Chapter 009: Murder

Before the words had even faded, his single-handed blade had already left its sheath.

A crystalline flash burst forth.

With a forceful push from the ball of his foot, there was a sharp splash as water scattered in every direction; his whole body soared into the air like a great bird taking flight, pouncing forward.

Tiger Leaps the Ravine!

All his strength, amassed over time, was poured into a single, lethal strike.

This technique was one of the Five Tiger Severing Gate Blade’s five killing moves, specifically meant to break through enemies at medium or long range.

In the blink of an eye, the dark figure was already before him. Yu Hongchuan, known as the Bone-Grinder, only saw a dazzling crystalline light bloom in his pupils, a chill spreading from his heart, as if the blade’s gleam would split him open and drive straight into his chest.

Yet, his years of experience and battle-hardened instincts kicked in instantly. In a flash, he found a way to counter.

He reached out, eagle-clawed and wolf-like, snatching up the terrified, frozen coachman before him and thrusting him as a shield.

A dull, piercing thud sounded—the single-handed blade drove through the coachman’s body, emerging from the other side, and left a shallow cut across Yu Hongchuan’s chest.

The coachman, struck by the blade, stiffened abruptly; blood spurted forth, splattering the dark figure, filling the air with the heavy scent of blood, momentarily stunning him.

Yu Hongchuan hadn’t expected to find a moment of reprieve in what should have been a deathtrap.

With a long howl, he flung the coachman’s corpse at the dark figure.

The dark figure reacted at once, shifting his stance, retreating several steps, drawing his blade to evade the incoming body. The corpse crashed to the ground with a muffled thud, sending water flying.

Hardly had the dark figure evaded the corpse when Yu Hongchuan, seasoned by countless battles, followed hot on its heels, leaping forward.

“Hmph, just a greenhorn and you dare seek trouble with me? You truly don’t know the meaning of death,” Yu Hongchuan sneered, lips curling into a cold smile.

A single exchange was enough for him to see that, though the dark figure’s blade work was decent, his lack of real combat experience left his reactions wanting.

With a spread and hook of his five fingers, his hand transformed into an eagle’s claw. Seizing the moment when the dark figure was distracted, he lashed out—straight for the throat.

Should this claw strike true, the throat would be torn out, the head wrenched from the body.

Precise, swift, and merciless!

Indeed, there are only mistaken names, never mistaken reputations. The Bone-Grinder’s name was well-deserved.

At this critical moment, the dark figure reacted in a flash, arching backward and falling into a perfect bridge, barely dodging the lethal grab at his throat.

Rolling to his feet in a half-crouch, the dark figure struck again, his blade sweeping low toward Yu Hongchuan’s legs.

The torrential rain drummed against the two figures and the world around them, blurring the very air.

Just then, a piercing, desperate scream erupted from inside the carriage—a woman’s voice, sharp and ragged.

So there was still someone in the carriage!

But at this point, neither man had the luxury to spare a thought. Their entire beings were locked in the deadly struggle before them.

Their figures blurred and crashed together again and again—within a few heartbeats, they’d exchanged over a dozen blows, evenly matched, a true meeting of worthy opponents.

As they crossed paths once more, Yu Hongchuan was beginning to pant, blood running from fresh wounds on his arm and chest. The metallic scent was swept away by the rain, leaving only pale, gaping flesh.

The dark figure’s conical hat had already been knocked away, revealing a face almost too young—sixteen or seventeen at most—handsome and resolute, his posture upright as a straight tree, brows slanting upward, eyes clear as ink-wash, full of spirit. The lines from the corners of his eyes to his temples were sharp and clean, revealing a determined, unyielding character.

This youth in black was none other than Yao Qian.

Yet, at this moment, he too appeared rather battered. His left sleeve was sheared off at the shoulder, exposing an arm covered in bruises and welts. His chest was slashed open in several places, blood oozing before being washed away by the rain.

Despite the pain and exhaustion racking his body, his spirit soared.

He felt every cell in his body breathing freely, a wild exhilaration surging within him.

In that moment, he finally understood Old Wang’s painstaking intentions.

Without real combat, locked away creating techniques behind closed doors, blade skills would never progress.

Killing arts must be tempered by blood and honed in bitter struggle; only through such trials could one’s potential be truly awakened, one’s skills ascend to the highest level.

Now, under the pressure of mortal danger and the opponent’s relentless assaults, his understanding of his blade became ever clearer, his use of technique ever more natural.

The barrier in his blade work, once faint yet persistent, seemed to be thinning, as if he might break through into a new realm of the Five Tiger Severing Gate Blade at any moment.

This epiphany was both mysterious and vivid.

His eyes shone brighter, his fighting spirit blazed higher, tiger-like gaze locked on Yu Hongchuan.

Though all this seemed to take time, it happened in the space of a heartbeat.

Seeing the gleam in Yao Qian’s eyes and the surging will to fight, Yu Hongchuan’s expression changed.

“Boy, if you leave now, I’ll spare your life. Such a shame for one so young to die by my hand…”

But before he could finish, Yao Qian stepped forward.

White Tiger Devours the Corpse!

Crouched like a mountain, head lifted, eyes fixed on the vital points—like a tiger about to seize a corpse from the grave!

The blade thrust straight for the chest, throat, and temple—sudden, unexpected, the assassination strike among the Five Killing Blades.

The Bone-Grinder hadn’t expected the youth to be so unafraid of death. But now was not the time for hesitation. Eyes blazing, hair bristling, he slid forward rather than retreating, one hand forming an eagle’s beak to snatch at Yao Qian’s right hand, the other forming a tiger’s claw to seize his chest.

If this claw landed, it would tear out the heart—a certain death.

Their bodies collided. Seeing Yao Qian’s bloodless face, Yu Hongchuan thought the boy had been scared witless.

“You don’t cherish the chance I gave you—truly courting death.”

That thought had barely formed when Yao Qian’s lips curled with the faintest smile.

At that, Yu Hongchuan was seized by a sudden premonition of doom.

“Not good!”

But it was already too late!

The blade strike was dazzling—a near-perfect execution of the assassination form. To a battle-scarred veteran, blocking it wasn’t impossible, though it might cost him something.

And Yao Qian knew this well.

So, as the blade thrust out and Yu’s hand was about to strike, Yao Qian let go, letting the blade drop, and seized the Bone-Grinder in a sudden, fierce embrace.

Yu Hongchuan, caught off guard by the abrupt switch from a brilliant attack to such a shameless tactic, was momentarily stunned.

But Yao Qian was fully prepared.

His hands cupped Yu’s head—as if a lover caressing a sweetheart—yet with a vicious grit of his teeth, he smashed his own forehead into Yu’s face.

Crack!

The brutal impact warped Yu Hongchuan’s features, blood streaming from his nose like twin serpents. Yao Qian struck again; stars exploded in Yu’s vision, his senses overwhelmed.

Even Yao Qian felt dizzy, his brow throbbing with pain.

But he was ready for this. Twisting his body, he hooked his right foot beneath the fallen blade, flipping it into his hand. Gripping it with both hands, he drove it down—blood gushed as Yu Hongchuan howled in agony.

Yao Qian didn’t hesitate—he wrenched the blade free and stabbed again, three times in all, opening six wound channels, blood bubbling out.

Yu Hongchuan’s vision swam with phantoms, agony wracking his body, every nerve shrieking.

It was the final straw.

What use are past glories, when death comes for you? The terror of the unknown remains.

He tried to run, but slipped and fell, scrambling desperately forward, still clinging to life.

Yao Qian followed, his earlier turmoil at killing already settling into calm.

His face was expressionless, as if to say: such is the world, fate so cruel, survival itself a struggle—why yearn for more?

His thoughts cleared, he moved without hesitation, quickly closing the distance.

Yu Hongchuan, sensing him, tried to speak.

“I have—”

But before the words were out, a crystalline flash split the rain-soaked darkness. Head and body parted; blood fountained, the rainwater turning red as it ran joyously outward.

The Bone-Grinder, Yu Hongchuan, perished in the rain-soaked night.