Bang! The door was smashed open, and four men rushed in like a whirlwind, coming to a halt before General Jian.
They had fierce, brutish appearances, with rugged features, looking almost identical, and all were unarmed.
“It’s too late. You won’t be able to escape,” the one on the far left sneered again.
“Because we’ve already arrived,” added his brother beside him.
“With us here, you’re all going to die,” emphasized the second from the right.
“Therefore, whether you flee or not is meaningless,” the one on the far right proudly surveyed Meng Qi and the others.
Meng Qi gripped the hilt of his Ice Gate Sword, focused only on the tip of the blade, as if nothing else could capture his attention. Meanwhile, Lu Zhongqi kept retreating unconsciously, hiding behind Meng Qi. Taoist Hu guarded Lu Guan closely, glancing instinctively at Meng Qi, while Ruan Yushu gently strummed her zither, seemingly oblivious to the men before her.
“He’s dead,” remarked one of the Zheng brothers on the far right, gazing at the corpse of General Jian.
“He died because his martial arts weren’t good enough,” said the second from the right.
“We’re stronger than him, so we won’t die,” the second from the left emphasized forcefully.
“It will be you who dies!” the one on the far left menacingly stared at Meng Qi and the others.
Their positioning was strange, seemingly always forming a semicircle, and they spoke strictly in a certain order.
Under the expectations of Lu Zhongqi and Taoist Hu, Meng Qi slowly rose, gripping his sword with calmness, as if the four before him were nothing but weaklings.
“Has the Evil Monarch arrived?” Meng Qi asked casually, his eyes fixed on his sword.
“The Master hasn’t come,” answered the eldest of the Zheng brothers on the far left.
“There’s no need for him to come,” the second from the left explained.
“You’re not even worthy of him lifting a finger,” the second from the right said reverently.
“We’re more than enough!” the youngest brother on the far right boasted proudly.
Meng Qi lifted his head, his sword angled outward, and coldly replied, “Too bad. No one will be here to bury you.”
He spoke matter-of-factly, and Lu Guan, Lu Zhongqi, and Taoist Hu, having witnessed Meng Qi effortlessly kill General Jian moments ago, began to feel similarly confident. However, upon recalling that these were the infamous Zheng brothers, their fears returned.
“We don’t need anyone to bury us,” the youngest on the right snorted.
“We will definitely win,” the second from the right raised his hands, assuming a fighting stance.
“It’s you who will need to be buried,” the second from the left retorted.
“There’s no one to do it,” the eldest brother stepped forward. The four moved as one, their eight palms striking simultaneously, forming a net with no gaps!
Suddenly, Meng Qi shouted:
“Attack!”
At that moment, Ruan Yushu’s zither sound became piercing, blending with Meng Qi’s roar, piercing straight into the heart and lungs!
The Zheng brothers felt a loud ringing in their ears, unable to hear anything else. Dizzy and disoriented, their limbs slowed. If not for their strong inner energy instinctively resisting, they might have frozen completely.
Seizing the opportunity, Meng Qi rushed forward, sweeping his sword and unleashing the “Arrow-Breaking Style!”
Ahh!
The Zheng brothers cried out in unison, closing their eyes, blood and fluids flowing from them.
Blinded, they wildly swung their palms and stepped randomly, completely chaotic.
Meng Qi darted among them, flashing his sword four times, then stood proudly, sheathing his sword.
Plop! The Zheng brothers fell almost simultaneously, each with a sword wound in the throat, their positions identical. If someone saw them, they might have thought it was one corpse and its three reflections.
Three moves—only three moves—and the infamous Zheng brothers, feared throughout the martial world, lay dead, without even a moment’s resistance!
Taoist Hu felt that all his life’s shocks combined couldn’t compare to today’s events; it was as if he were dreaming!
When had the once unapproachable General Jian and the Zheng brothers become as ordinary as commoners, unable to resist Meng Qi’s sword?
It was said that together they could rival the Ghost King and the Moon-Washing Taoist, but what about Meng Qi with his lone sword?
He and Lu Zhongqi looked at Meng Qi with completely changed expressions. No matter how unbelievable it seemed, the facts were undeniable. Perhaps this young man would one day become the “Sword Emperor,” standing equal to the Queen’s Sorcerer and other greats!
Meng Qi turned and walked back to the fire, nodding slightly at Lu Guan’s gratitude, then remained silent as usual.
Frankly speaking, it wasn’t because his Thunder Words had become this powerful, nor was it solely due to Ruan Yushu’s zither enhancing their effects. The Zheng brothers only became true experts when working together. Alone, they were barely better than the Poisonous Wandering Ghost, and against Thunder Words combined with the zither, they were only slightly more formidable. Against experts at the level of the Ghost King or the Evil Monarch, Thunder Words would only cause momentary dizziness and a brief delay, costing them a crucial opportunity.
Once they were stunned and unable to coordinate, the Zheng brothers’ fate was sealed!
Lu Zhongqi searched the bodies of the Zheng brothers again, but unfortunately, they were always reckless, carrying nothing but food.
“There’s a letter!” Lu Zhongqi exclaimed joyfully when searching the last body. This might be evidence of a traitor in court orchestrating the assassination, which could be presented to the Emperor, ensuring they couldn’t escape punishment.
“What does it say?” Lu Guan calmly asked.
Lu Zhongqi examined it, removed the envelope, unfolded the letter, and his face changed: “It’s from the Evil Monarch.”
He instinctively read aloud: “My subordinates acted rashly. Please forgive General Lu. One day, I will personally visit and ask you to wait.”
Seemingly courteous words carried an air of arrogance and confidence, as if saying, “Your head will be mine!”
Moreover, this letter was written before the Zheng brothers’ failure, as if he could foresee the future!
“Superstitions and petty tricks,” Meng Qi coldly remarked.
Taoist Hu suddenly realized: “The Evil Monarch wrote this letter as a precaution. If the Zheng brothers succeeded, we wouldn’t have seen this letter—it would have been burned upon their return. If they failed, it meant we had an expert nearly at his level, and this letter could unsettle our minds.”
“Despicable villains of the Evil Sect!” Lu Zhongqi angrily cursed.
After calming down, he suddenly sighed: “But at least this proves the Evil Monarch will definitely act personally.”
“Yes,” Taoist Hu also sighed, and the shrine fell silent again, with only the distant sound of the zither echoing.
None spoke. Though Meng Qi was strong, with unpredictable sword techniques, compared to the infamous Evil Monarch, known for his Deathless Seal Art and Illusory Devil Steps, he probably still fell short.
The “Evil Monarch” Guan Ying had evaded both the National Preceptor and the Queen’s Sorcerer, and had battled the Ghost King, the Peerless Blade, and the Ruyi Monk simultaneously without suffering defeat—his power was undeniable!
Sad winds often bring bitter rains. Outside the shrine, autumn rain gradually began to fall, and the night deepened.
Lu Zhongqi no longer mentioned rushing to the capital that night, because in such conditions, traveling at night would make them vulnerable to ambushes, and Meng Qi wouldn’t have time to rescue them. It was better to hold their ground at the shrine.
The wind howled and the rain fell heavily, striking the roof tiles with a loud clatter, enhancing the feeling of deep night and silence.
Suddenly, all four windows were smashed open, and five or six figures leaped inside.
As they were about to attack, they saw Meng Qi sitting with his sword across his knees, motionless like a mountain, coldly staring at them without any intention to draw his sword.
The intruders hesitated, instinctively looking around, and noticed five corpses near the shrine’s entrance, scattered haphazardly.
One was tall and rugged, with wide eyes and an open mouth, his death expression fierce. His jaw wound was deep. The other four were fierce-looking and identical, their wounds identical—precisely at the throat, all sword wounds. At first glance, one might think it was an illusion.
Startled, they turned their gaze back to Meng Qi, the most striking figure in the shrine. They saw his cold expression and eyes filled with icy menace. They saw the blood slowly trickling along his sword toward the tip, forming a droplet, trembling on the edge.
With a faint sound, the droplet fell to the ground.
“Retreat!” they shouted in unison, leaping back out the way they came, but without the previous agility or ferocity, appearing panicked and clumsy.
The shrine returned to silence. This time, Lu Zhongqi, Taoist Hu, and the others relaxed somewhat. Ruan Yushu’s zither changed to a flowing, melodious sound, while Lu Guan calmly picked up a military treatise and began reading it by the firelight.
Another group arrived outside. They saw the broken windows and doors and felt the eerie silence inside, which alarmed them. They dared not act rashly, cautiously approaching the windows to peer inside.
What they saw startled them. Lu Guan’s group appeared as if on a leisurely outing, showing no signs of panic or tension from being pursued.
The most eye-catching figure was a young man with a sword across his knees, half-closed eyes, and an icy, indifferent expression, exuding a deep chill and fear, even more striking than the rare beauty beside him.
They swallowed hard, carefully observing the scene inside the ruined shrine.
Suddenly, their eyes widened, pupils contracting in shock, as they exclaimed, “General Jian!”
“The Zheng brothers!”
After a brief silence, many turned and fled without looking back. If even the Zheng brothers had died here, who would dare to attack?
A few braver ones remained. They found the situation suspicious. If those inside could kill the Zheng brothers, why hadn’t they come out to attack them? Perhaps there was something amiss—maybe the real killer wasn’t among them and had already left, so they only dared to scare people, not to fight.
One of them summoned his courage, leaped onto the roof, found a position, and smashed through the tiles and wooden beams, striking downward from above!
The others quickly turned to look inside, ready to attack if they saw any sign of weakness.
Ahh!
A scream rang out. They hadn’t even seen the fight clearly when the attacker lay on the ground, bloodied and broken, but the fatal wound was a sword through the center of his forehead.
Yet the cold, merciless young man still sat cross-legged, sword resting across his knees, though now streaks of blood ran along the blade, quickly gathering at the tip, dripping one by one.
Drip, drop, the faint sounds echoed like alarm bells in their hearts. One by one, they silently turned and left.
After that, several more groups came, but none dared to enter the shrine. They merely watched for a while before quietly retreating, arriving in the rain and leaving soaked by it.
The rain cleared, clouds scattered, and dawn approached. Meng Qi slowly stood up and calmly said, “It’s time to leave.”
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