Chapter 20: A Fortuitous Encounter (Please add to your favorites and recommend)

"An adventure?" Yao Qian murmured to himself. Though he had his suspicions, he hadn’t expected Old Wang to be of the same mind, even more assertive than he was.

"Yes, exactly, an adventure. I crossed paths with Old Chen back in my youth; he was a notorious bandit. If it weren’t for the fact that the Heart-Crushing Palm was so tyrannical, leaving grave harm on the body, he wouldn’t have washed his hands clean at forty. But who could have foreseen that in less than two quiet years, he’d become the secret mastermind behind human trafficking? He must have found something extraordinary in that time."

Listening to Old Wang’s analysis, Yao Qian nodded inwardly.

Since that was the case, a cold gleam flickered in his eyes.

By now, dozens had surged forward, weapons and bodies battering the shield wall with a relentless "thud thud thud." The shield formation, less than ten strong, was like a solitary boat in a turbulent sea, threatening to capsize at any moment.

Watching the guards grit their teeth and brace their shields, surrounded by the clangor of metal on metal, Yao Qian didn’t hesitate. This world was too perilous—if he let an opportunity slip by, he might never know how he’d die.

Images of Old Chen’s family and those withered corpses flashed through his mind.

He didn’t want to die!

His blade, Blood Reaper, flashed from its sheath as he stomped hard on the ground and vaulted upward. Landing atop the shields, he borrowed their force to propel himself straight into the fray.

With the blade in hand, enemies all around, he felt no fear or dread. Instead, there was a faint excitement. The veins stood out on the back of his hand as if cheering for the coming bloodshed, and a savage grin crept across his face, making him look almost demonic.

Seeing someone suddenly burst into their midst, the attackers were startled, then quickly drew their blades, slashing and thrusting at Yao Qian.

They aimed to hack him to pieces!

The smile faded from Yao Qian’s lips as he summoned the Iron Shirt technique. Instantly, his skin felt as if it had hardened, a keratinized layer forming over his body—strange, like donning an iron vest, yet without the weight.

He suppressed these sensations. Now was not the time for distraction.

With a ringing cry, Blood Reaper was drawn upward, as if a chain spanned the river.

Clang, clang, clang!

He blocked several incoming blades. Then, with a swift change of stance, he cut forward as if slicing through fruit, his blade cleaving straight for the neck of the man be