northernbook Chapter 483
Chapter 483
The sky was overcast, with thick, leaden clouds pressing down overhead, as if an impending storm was brewing. The market was bustling with people, a cacophony of hawkers' cries and laughter creating a lively scene. However, no one realized that danger was lurking nearby.
Suddenly, a commotion shattered the market's clamor. The crowd seemed to be parted by an invisible force, and a figure in black robes emerged from the throng. Strange red patterns were embroidered on his robes, shimmering eerily in the dim light, like mysterious symbols from hell. He held a dagger in his hand, its blade gleaming with a chilling light that sent shivers down one's spine.
The black-robed man's movements were incredibly unpredictable. With a light touch of the ground, he appeared before Jing Chu in an instant, like a ghost. Without the slightest hesitation, he flicked his wrist, and the dagger thrust straight at Jing Chu's throat with lightning speed and a ruthless, cunning angle.
Jing Chu's pupils contracted sharply. Years of experience in the martial world allowed him to react swiftly in this critical moment. He dodged to the side, his body as light as a willow catkin, skillfully avoiding the fatal blow. At the same time, he swiftly drew his longsword from his waist and swung it in a counterattack, the blade slicing through the air with a sharp whistling sound. However, the man in black robes seemed to have anticipated this, his figure flashing as he easily evaded Jing Chu's attack.
After a few exchanges, Jing Chu was secretly alarmed. This person's martial arts were clearly superior to the other men in black robes; every move was perfectly timed, the defense was impeccable, and the offense was swift and fierce. Jing Chu realized that this person might be the key figure in their operation.
The two exchanged blows, dozens of moves in total. While fighting, Jing Chu carefully observed his opponent's techniques, gradually figuring out the black-robed man's style. He knew that continuing this stalemate was disadvantageous; he needed a swift victory. So, seizing an opportunity, he feinted, his longsword tracing an illusory arc in the air. The black-robed man fell for it, hastily raising his dagger to defend. In that instant, Jing Chu's eyes sharpened, and with a surge of power, he unleashed a full-force sword strike at the black-robed man. This strike concentrated all his strength, the sword wind whistling, its power astonishing.
The man in black robes' expression changed drastically, and he hurriedly raised his dagger to defend himself. With a loud clang, sparks flew, and the man in black robes was forced back several steps by the immense force, his arm slightly numb.
However, at that moment, a sinister laugh echoed from the depths of the Taoist temple. The laughter seemed to emanate from the deepest hell, chilling to the bone and sending shivers down one's spine. Immediately afterward, a figure shrouded in black mist slowly emerged. The mist swirled around him, obscuring his face, but a powerful sense of oppression emanated from him.
"I didn't expect the Prince's Mansion to send such a formidable figure. However, none of you will leave today." The man's voice was cold and hoarse, as if it were being squeezed out from between his teeth.
Jing Chu gripped his sword hilt tightly, veins bulging on the back of his hand, watching his opponent warily. He knew in his heart that the real challenge had only just begun. He glanced back at the guards, his eyes resolute, conveying silent encouragement. The guards also tightened their weapons, returning his determined gaze, preparing to face this even more difficult battle.
The mysterious figure concealed within the black mist merely raised a hand and casually waved it, instantly stirring the surrounding air as if stirred by an invisible, eerie force. In the blink of an eye, a swarm of ghostly figures seemed to spring from nowhere, a group of black-robed men rushing out from all directions. They moved with incredible agility, their footsteps landing without a sound, yet in the blink of an eye, they had surrounded Jing Chu and his guards in layers upon layers.
These men in black robes each possessed a bottomless, sinister gaze, their eyes like those of wolves in the cold night, fierce and icy. They held various weapons in their hands, the blades of swords gleaming coldly in the dim light, as if foreshadowing the impending bloodshed.
Jing Chu's expression was grave, his heart pounding in his chest, but years of experience in the martial world had honed his composure in the face of danger. He took a deep breath, his chest heaving, to calm his nerves, then lowered his voice and said firmly to the guards beside him, "Everyone, stand back to back, don't panic, be careful!" His words, though brief, were like a shot of adrenaline for everyone. The guards quickly moved closer together, standing back to back in a tight defensive formation, gripping their weapons tightly, ready for battle.
Almost the instant Jing Chu finished speaking, the battle erupted again like a surging tide. Jing Chu struck first, his longsword flashing with incredible speed and precision, a silver curtain of light. Each swing of his sword created a whistling sound, forcing the black-robed figures who tried to approach to retreat repeatedly under the fierce swordplay.
The guards, not to be outdone, though merely ordinary guards of the Prince's mansion, fought bravely in this life-or-death situation, not one of them retreating. Their battle cries mingled, soaring into the sky and echoing endlessly in the confined space. However, the enemy surged in like a relentless tide, wave after wave. As time passed, Jing Chu and the guards' strength gradually waned, their movements becoming sluggish, and they slowly began to struggle. Sweat streamed down their foreheads, dripping onto the ground beneath their feet, mingling with the blood.
Just as the situation reached an extremely critical point, a blinding bolt of lightning suddenly streaked across the already terrifyingly gloomy sky. The lightning, like a giant axe splitting the heavens, cleaved a gaping fissure in the dark expanse. Immediately afterward, large raindrops poured down, instantly enveloping the entire battlefield in a curtain of rain. The rain lashed against everyone, and a chill quickly seeped into their bones.
However, the rain gave Jing Chu a sudden realization. During a lull in the fierce fighting, he keenly noticed that the strange patterns on the black robes of the men in black robes were becoming increasingly dim under the rain. Not only that, their movements were noticeably slower, their once agile movements becoming clumsy.
Jing Chu acted decisively, shouting at the top of his lungs, "Use the rain to attack their patterns!" His voice rang out loudly amidst the rain and shouts of battle. Hearing this, the crowd snapped out of their daze and changed their attack strategy. They no longer blindly engaged the black-robed men in a physical confrontation, but instead focused on the location of the patterns on their bodies and launched precise attacks.
As expected, the black-robed men's defenses showed numerous weaknesses. Jing Chu and his group seized the opportunities, launching repeated attacks and forcing the black-robed men into a retreat. Seeing this, the figure in the black mist let out a cold snort, his voice filled with resentment and anger. Then, his figure flashed through the rain, disappearing like a ghost. Seeing their leader flee, the remaining black-robed men were thrown into chaos, abandoning their armor and weapons, and scattering in the rain.
Jing Chu, panting heavily, held his longsword low, rain streaming down its blade. He watched the enemies gradually disperse, his tense nerves finally relaxing, knowing the crisis was temporarily over. But he felt no relief. He looked up into the depths of the rain, his eyes filled with worry. He knew that even greater challenges lay ahead, and they were about to face an even more difficult and unknown battle.