Chapter Twenty-Two: Only Battle Remains

After Zhao Che sent the business car flying with a punch, the Blood Sword Alliance assassins responded swiftly, gathering together with practiced precision. Today, the Blood Sword Alliance had dispatched its elite, aiming to capture the four major powers of Jiangzhou in a single sweep. This operation had been months in planning, with enormous manpower and resources invested; countless masters had come from across the country and abroad. Headquarters had issued strict orders: success was imperative.

Their meticulous calculations, reconnaissance, and deployment had culminated in comprehensive preparations—by all accounts, the objective should have been within their grasp. Yet, they never expected that just as victory seemed assured, a figure of demonic strength would appear and shatter their plans—an imposing man whose single punch sent the business car skyward. And to compound their confusion, another youth appeared after him, delicate-featured yet radiant with destructive power, who caught the falling vehicle with one hand as if it weighed nothing.

“Zhao Che is at fault; he failed to consider everything,” someone muttered.

Zhao Che hurriedly knelt before Ling Feng.

“I don't think you’re fit to remain in the city,” Ling Feng scolded, his tone tinged with annoyance.

“Who dares interfere with the Blood Sword Alliance’s business?” At that moment, a young woman in her early twenties stepped out from their ranks. Her hair was dyed purple, she wore a black trench coat and a cropped top, two battle blades slung across her back. She strode forward with cold arrogance, her beauty sharp with a heroic edge, her hips swaying with confidence. As she approached Ling Feng and Zhao Che, she drew both blades with a metallic ring, dragging them behind her.

Sparks flew as the blades scraped across the marble, leaving deep, burning scars on the ground.

“So young, yet already at the advanced stage of post-heaven cultivation. She could probably withstand one move from Zhao Che. If she joins us, she’ll be a talent worth nurturing. This woman—I’ll take her,” Ling Feng said, hands clasped behind his back, nodding with authority. Though he was barely older than her, his words brimmed with the arrogance and gravitas of a veteran. The woman’s eyes narrowed, a mocking sneer curling her lips. She vowed to slice him into ten pieces for his presumptuousness.

“Emperor, there are 145 ants left,” Zhao Che murmured, still kneeling.

With a glance, the numbers were clear.

“The Blood Hand Alliance dares provoke me?