plumnovel Chapter 35: Drawing the Sword!
Chapter 35: Drawing the Sword!
He is Xue Bufu!
Ma Kongqun's pupils suddenly contracted!
A chilling coldness instantly shot from his feet to the top of his head, shattering all his excitement and fervor!
Xue Bufu is already here; there's only one possibility.
Their plan had already been exposed! This wasn't a surprise attack; they walked right into a trap!
What about the others in the Divine Blade Hall?
Are they already lying in ambush here?
A thought that would horrify everyone flashed through their minds.
Xue Bufeng seemed to be getting a little bored while waiting, and even yawned slightly.
Then, he looked up at the dark mass of people not far away, his gaze landing on Ma Kongqun's face at the front.
"I have been waiting for you here for a long time."
"I think there's no need to say anything more at this moment."
He spoke, his voice not loud, but clearly audible on the quiet street, carrying a playful, cat-and-mouse tone.
Before the words were finished—
He is no longer there.
There was the sound of wind and afterimages, but Xue Bufeng's figure was nowhere to be seen!
Ma Kongqun only felt a blur before his eyes, and Xue Bufeng seemed to have teleported several meters away, suddenly appearing less than three feet in front of him!
Under the moonlight, Ma Kongqun could even see the cold yet delighted smile in the other person's eyes.
Kill all your enemies, drink the wine in your cup, wouldn't that be exhilarating?
Then, Ma Kongqun saw a light.
A bewitching, chilling, crescent-shaped arc of blood-red light!
fast!
It's so fast that my mind can't keep up!
Ma Kongqun only had time to think of dodging before he felt a cool, slight touch on his neck.
His eyes widened; he wanted to lower his head, to roar, to swing the knife in his hand…
But all my strength was instantly drained away by that icy touch.
The field of vision begins to tilt and rotate.
He saw his headless body still standing stiffly in place, a fountain of blood gushing out of his neck cavity, looking particularly terrifying in the moonlight.
He saw the extreme shock and bewilderment that froze on the faces of Yun Zaitian and Hua Mantian behind him.
He saw Gongsun Duanqiu's face, his beard bristling, twisted with disbelief.
Then, darkness swallowed everything.
"Gulp."
The head fell to the ground, rolled twice on the yellow sand, and became covered in dust.
Only then did the headless corpse sway and collapse to the ground.
Dead silence.
A suffocating silence enveloped the entire street.
Two hundred elite disciples of Wanmatang, these tough guys who would never flinch in the face of swords and death, were now frozen in place as if under a spell.
Their minds went blank; they couldn't comprehend what had just happened.
Hall Master Ma Kongqun...
died?
Someone chopped off his head like chopping vegetables...with a single stroke?
The deathly silence continued to spread.
How long did this terrifying atmosphere last?
no one knows.
It may only last a moment, but it feels like an eternity to everyone.
Clouds in the sky and flowers all over the sky are the fastest to react.
Overwhelmed by fear and the instinct for survival, they roared almost simultaneously, retreating rapidly with their hands already on their weapons!
But it's still too slow.
Or perhaps Xue Bufeng's knife was just too fast.
The crimson arc of light barely paused, and in the instant that Ma Kongqun's head flew up, it drew two even faster and more unpredictable trajectories like a ghost!
Swish!
Swish!
Two more soft sounds, so faint they seemed as if only the wind had broken a blade of dry grass.
The figures of Yun Zaitian and Hua Mantian, who were retreating rapidly, froze at the same time.
The roaring expression still lingered on their faces, but their eyes were now empty and lifeless.
A thin red line, as thin as a hair, appeared on both of their necks at the same time.
The next moment, the two heads flew off their necks almost simultaneously and rolled together with Ma Kongqun's head.
Blood gushed forth again, staining the dry, yellow sandy ground a muddy, scarlet red.
From the moment Xue Bufu was executed to the moment Ma Kongqun, Yun Zaitian, and Hua Mantian were beheaded!
fast!
ruthless!
sly!
So fast that no one could react, so ruthless that it left no room for maneuver, so cunning that the path of the blade was completely invisible!
The morale of the two hundred elite soldiers collapsed instantly under this extremely bloody and terrifying start!
Everyone felt their hands and feet were ice-cold, their livers and gallbladders were trembling, and the hands holding the knives were shaking like leaves in the wind. They seemed to have lost all strength, let alone the will to attack or even to run away.
In the room, only one person in charge remained standing.
Gongsun Duan.
This giant, with a physique as imposing as an iron tower and a temper as fiery as fire, was now motionless, like a clay or wooden sculpture.
He stared wide-eyed, like copper bells, at the three familiar yet unfamiliar heads on the ground, then slowly raised his head to look at the figure in front of him carrying a blood-stained knife.
A wave of overwhelming fear washed over him like an icy tide.
But deep within this fear, a final, suppressed rage belonging to a warrior, born of extreme humiliation and repression, surged violently against his chest like a volcano about to erupt.
obviously.
Xue Bufu spared his life, but did not kill him, which was a humiliation to him!
Xue Bufeng carried the knife, but there wasn't a single drop of blood on its blade; it only reflected the cold moonlight.
He strode forward, walking unhurriedly toward Gongsun Duan.
The sound of footsteps echoed clearly in the deathly silent street, each step feeling like it was pounding on everyone's heart.
He walked up to Gongsun Duan and stopped.
He tilted his head, sized up the giant who was a head taller and twice as big as him, and laughed.
"You really wanted to teach me a lesson, didn't you?"
Xue Bufeng spoke, his voice tinged with laughter, yet chillingly cold:
"Now, I'm standing right in front of you, why... why aren't you drawing your sword?"
"Draw your sword!"
"Draw your knife!"
The words "draw your sword" were like a red-hot branding iron, fiercely imprinted on Gongsun Duan's frozen heart!
"Ugh!!!"
A roar of fear, humiliation, and raging fury, like the dying cry of a wounded beast, burst forth from Gongsun Duan's throat!
His eyes instantly became bloodshot, and veins bulged on his forehead. The immense sense of humiliation overwhelmed his fear of death!
He suddenly raised his hand and grabbed the strange curved knife with a silver sheath and black handle at his waist!
Draw the knife!
Even if I die, I will die fighting like a man!
Even if it means death, I will still deliver a fatal blow!
However, just as his fingers touched the cold hilt of the knife, that deadly, bewitching arc of blood-red light shone again.
This time, it was so fast that even the afterimage was almost invisible.
It was as if that light was meant to be there, waiting for Gongsun Duan's hand to reach out.
"Crack—"
The sound of a sharp blade slicing through a neck bone was still faint.
Gongsun Duan's action of drawing his sword froze in mid-air.
He ultimately did not draw his sword.
The frenzied, desperate expression on his face froze, and the last glimmer of light in his eyes quickly faded.
His massive body swayed, then he collapsed forward, kicking up a cloud of dust.
The fourth head rolled to the ground.
Xue Bufeng then slowly raised the blood-stained blade to his eyes and looked at it in the moonlight.
The snowflake-like blade remained spotless and pristine.
He nodded in satisfaction, and with a flick of his wrist, the scimitar silently slid back into its sheath.
He turned away, and from beginning to end he did not look at the two hundred Wanmatang elites around him who were already pale and trembling like leaves.
They were as if they were just a bunch of insignificant, terrified ants.
Then, carrying his knife, he leisurely walked back along the path he had come from, disappearing into the darkness at the other end of the horse track.
The wind is still blowing.
The wind whipped up fine sand, gradually covering the bloodstains on the ground and the four heads that were growing cold and stiff.
Only after Xue Bufeng's figure completely disappeared did the crowd, who had been standing frozen in place, collapse in disarray, as if their last supporting bone had been removed.
Some people began to vomit, some lost control of their bladders, and many more collapsed to the ground, staring blankly at the starry sky, as if their souls had flown away with the four heads.
No one dared to touch the four headless corpses.
No one dared to make even the slightest sound.
Only the wind and sand sob in the night of the border town.