Lin Feng stared, incredulous. Among the four cultivators, three were the very thugs who'd tried—and failed—to rob him in Azurecloud City.
Their faces blanched like cornered rats.
"B-big Bro… We didn't mean to cross your path! Last time was our fault—you punished us already! We'll leave right now! Spare us, please…"
The brawny leader, Zhang Fangzhou, stammered, palms sweating. The memory of their humiliation paled next to witnessing Lin Feng casually slay a Tier 2 beast.
Lin Feng chuckled.
"Relax. That business is settled. You haven't provoked me now."
Relief washed over the trio. Zhang Fangzhou bobbed his head.
"Y-yes! Thank you for your mercy!"
The spearman, Long Chengkong, eyed them curiously.
"You know each other?"
"We've met," Lin Feng said mildly. "Not acquaintances."
Long Chengkong clasped his fists.
"I owe you my life back there. I'm Long Chengkong. May I ask your name?"
"Lin Feng. Well met."
Zhang Fangzhou cut in eagerly:
"I'm Zhang Fangzhou! This is my second brother, Yao Wangtian, and third brother, Xu Rong! Honored to meet you, Big Bro Lin!"
All three bowed—despite being older. Lin Feng suppressed a sigh.
Footsteps approached. A middle-aged man in brocade robes emerged, flanked by attendants. Long Chengkong gestured:
"Lin Feng, this is Yang Ge, owner of the caravan. We're escorting his goods to Biquan City."
He turned to Yang Ge.
"Sir Yang, this is Lin Feng. We'd have been doomed without him."
Yang Ge offered a polished bow.
"Young Hero Lin! Your valor saved us. Yang Ge is eternally grateful."
Though mortal, his poise revealed experience dealing with cultivators.
Lin Feng inclined his head.
"A small matter. 'Lin Feng' suffices."
Seeing Lin Feng's approachability, Yang Ge brightened.
"We've prepared a meal just over there. Join us? We can talk as we eat."
Lin Feng's gaze drifted toward the wagons. Steam rose from makeshift stoves; the scent of braised meat teased the air. His stomach growled.
"Gladly. Lead on."
——
Thick rugs covered the ground behind the wagons. Platters of roasted pheasant, herb-steamed buns, and pickled vegetables lay spread. As they settled, Xiao Qiu—disinterested in mortal food—burrowed into Lin Feng's robe and slept.
Between bites, Lin Feng pieced together their story:
Yang Ge owned Azurecloud's renowned Yang Textile Emporium. Seeking expansion, he'd secured trade routes in Biquan City. To save time, he'd risked cutting through Seven Peaks Forest's eastern fringe—hiring Zhang Fangzhou's trio from the Mercenary Guild as guards. Long Chengkong, encountered at the forest's edge, joined for extra security.
"We thought the outskirts were safe with four cultivators," Yang Ge sighed, refilling Lin Feng's wine cup. "Then that grizzly appeared during our noon halt. If not for you…"
Zhang Fangzhou leaned forward, earnest.
"After you… disciplined us last time, Big Bro, we quit back-alley mugging! Swear it! We're doing honest guild jobs now."
Lin Feng arched a brow but said nothing. Casually, he steered the talk:
"I've been training deep in the forest. Any notable news from Azurecloud?"
Zhang Fangzhou's eyes lit up.
"Huge news! Two nights ago—southern forest edge—a battle that shook the heavens! You know the He family's young master, He Yuan, vanished? Well, the He clan tracked the 'killer'…"
He paused for effect.
"Patriarch He Wenyang led half their elites out. But the target was a Golden Core cultivator! With a flying sword! Witnesses say the He group was shredded by sword-light—no resistance! Their corpses… burned to ash."
"Golden Core?" Lin Feng feigned surprise. So they mistook my flying sword for a Core Formation expert's… Clever.
"No doubt!" Zhang Fangzhou vibrated with awe. "Multiple witnesses! Sword-light everywhere—whoosh!—heads flying! A real Golden Core! Imagine… killing with a flick of the wrist!"
He gazed distantly, the fanboy in him aflame.
Lin Feng masked his amusement.
"A Golden Core in a backwater like Azurecloud? What happened to the He family after?"
——
Yang Ge lowered his voice.
"Chaos. With their patriarch and elites dead, the remaining He clansmen are scrambling. The Wang and Liu families circle like vultures—their assets, mines, shops… all contested."
Long Chengkong frowned.
"Rumors say the He family offended a wandering Core Formation senior. But why would such an expert linger here?"
Xu Rong, the rat-faced brother, piped up:
"Maybe he's hunting treasure! I heard whispers of a secret cave in Crimson Crag—"
"Silence!" Zhang Fangzhou elbowed him. "Don't waste Big Bro Lin's time with tavern tales!"
Lin Feng's fingers stilled around his cup. Crimson Crag cave? Coincidence? Before he could probe, shouts erupted from the wagon line.
"AMBUSH! BANDITS!!"
A guard tumbled backward, an arrow jutting from his shoulder. Shadows detached from the treeline—fifty men at least, armed with jagged blades and recurve bows. At their helm rode three cultivators on armored dire-wolves.
The lead rider, scar bisecting his cheek, leveled a bloodstained axe at Yang Ge.
"Drop your goods. Walk away. Or feed the crows."
Lin Feng set down his cup. Xiao Qiu peeked from his collar, whiskers twitching.
"Dire Wolf Raiders," Long Chengkong hissed. "Tier 2 Beast Tamers. That scarred one—'Bloodaxe' Garm—is Foundation Establishment Stage 5."
Zhang Fangzhou's trio drew weapons, hands trembling. Yang Ge's attendants froze.
Bloodaxe Garm sneered.
"Five breaths. Choose."
Lin Feng rose. Dust sighed off his robes.
"You're blocking my view."
His flying sword materialized—a silver viper poised to strike.