"Road-Block Tiger" Wang Ba flew into a rage. "What are you boasting about now? You fancy yourself some hero of the martial world? Look around—you're surrounded! And still you dare talk big!"
The second-in-command, Wang Tao, added with disdain, "You've already reached this point, haven't you? What's the point of fighting on? Best concede now—we might spare your life. Otherwise, you will not survive."
But "Thunderblade" He Ping quickly saw their ploy. They had not attacked immediately—first, because they wished to win without a fight and avoid casualties; second, because they wanted to test his strength. Knowing they would not strike hard at once, he snorted. "Strength in numbers does not make heroes. If you dare, face me one-on-one!"
"Road-Block Tiger" Wang Ba laughed boldly. "Why not? Blade, sword, or bare fists—you name it!"
Thunderblade He Ping replied, "In all my years roaming the jianghu, I have never bowed my head to anyone. Since you insist—let's do it bare-handed. Do you dare?"
Wang Ba sneered inwardly. Still trying tricks, are you? But with He Ping already trapped like a turtle in a jar, what was there to fear? He said slowly, "No need to rush. Recently several formidable strangers from the Central Plains have arrived. Let them warm you up first. If the 'Underworld Envoy—Lives-Not' survives you, then we'll see how many catties of skill you really possess!"
This was the classic tactic of sending the lower horse against the upper—testing first before committing. After the Ghost King of the Yin-Sky Sect was slain and the sect scattered, four survivors—Underworld Envoy Lives-Not, Sun-Chaser Dies-Not, Soul-Seeker Saves-Not, and Lone-Spirit Kills-Not—fled west to the desert, where Wang Ba took them in and granted them rank.
Thunderblade He Ping handed his saber to a nearby martial aide and said loudly, "Very well—let us test each other's true skills!"
Underworld Envoy Lives-Not leapt forward, cupped his fists, and declared, "I have long heard of the famed Thunderblade. Today, I seek instruction!"
He Ping was a first-rate master of the jianghu, renowned for knife techniques. Wang Ba deliberately wanted to see his unarmed skill—and at the same time gauge the abilities of these four envoys.
Lives-Not's eyes gleamed like a hawk's. Suddenly he thrust out his palm, his body shooting forward two zhang in a single pounce. Yet He Ping, instead of dodging, remained perfectly still. At the instant the strike arrived, he suddenly fell backward, performing a flawless "Kite-Turns-over" flip. Lives-Not lunged past empty air—and He Ping, slapping the ground with one palm, used the rebound to spring upright and counterattack.
The timing of these moves was so precise and fluid that the onlookers could barely believe their eyes. They knew Thunderblade's fame came from his saber—never imagining his unarmed skill was this extraordinary.
A sudden gust of sand swept across the ground. The crowd instinctively shielded themselves. Only after the dust fell did they realize—it came from He Ping's unleashed inner force! With a twist of his waist, his entire body rotated; the waist drove the shoulder, the shoulder drove the elbow, the elbow drove the hand, and the hand led the power. His strikes came surging like tidal waves, roaring like thunder.
It is said that high skill breeds courage—but sometimes the ignorant are even bolder. Lives-Not lasted only a few exchanges before falling into danger. His three comrades—Dies-Not, Saves-Not, and Kills-Not—became frantic and could no longer care about rules of the jianghu. All three leapt in simultaneously.
He Ping sensed fierce winds overhead. Looking up, he saw three palms descending. He snorted coldly, "Vile rabble!" With a flash in his eyes, he roared, his inner energy surging as his hands swept outward. Now all four men surrounded him, striking from every direction.
Yet He Ping met their blows calmly, parrying and countering. One against four—and he did not lose ground. The four envoys had never imagined Thunderblade He Ping was such a powerhouse. No wonder Li Zhu'er had once sought him out! Though in his forties, his inner force was deep and inexhaustible. His palms were hard as iron, cleaving like blades, each strike as lethal as his saber itself. He hacked and chopped with both hands, driving the four back in complete disorder. Wang Ba, watching, was shocked. This man's martial skill is terrifying. How am I to deal with him?
A murmur of awe swept through the entire camp.
In the next instant of battle, Dies-Not failed to evade. He Ping's sweeping palm struck his left chest with a resounding crack, flinging him two feet back. Saves-Not tried to rescue him, but He Ping twisted, slammed his elbow backward, and struck Saves-Not to the ground with a grunt.
Kills-Not and Lives-Not attacked from both sides. He Ping spun, snatched both their wrists in mid-strike, yanked them inward, then unleashed twin palms point-blank—sending both men flying with another heavy crash. His movements were crisp, swift, deadly, free of hesitation.
The thieves stared in utter disbelief.
Thunderblade He Ping straightened his stance, clasped his hands behind his back, and bellowed, "Who else dares test my skill?"
Only now did they understand the true depth of his martial arts.
A figure soared several zhang and landed before He Ping—it was none other than the Western Region's Snow-Blade King, Hu Tian.
Hu Tian said, "The name of Thunderblade He Ping shakes the world. I, the Snow-Blade King of the Western Regions, have come to challenge your supreme art."
He Ping raised a brow at the title. Snow-Blade King? A blade expert, no doubt. He asked, "Just now we fought bare-handed. Does sir now intend to use the blade?"
Hu Tian snorted. "Of course. I'm not foolish—I'll be using my blade!"