Chapter 50: Who Scattered the Lime?!

"Who—who are you?" Shu Qiu’s face was etched with terror as he pointed at the crowd atop the roof and shouted, "I am Shu Qiu of the Eighteen Manors of the South! Do you intend to make enemies of both the righteous and demonic factions of Jiangnan?"

The sudden appearance of these people had caught him completely off guard, especially the red-robed figures who followed; the murderous aura that radiated from them was nearly suffocating. Just how many people had they killed to accumulate such a dreadful presence? Damn it! Could they be from Long or Zhao? Only those lands, plagued by endless war, could breed such butchers!

Sweat beaded on Shu Qiu’s brow as he fixed his gaze on the red-robed man who had just spoken from the rooftop. The man’s killing intent was so intense that Shu Qiu could scarcely breathe.

Kun Three lifted his head slightly. Without a word of waste, his voice cut cold and sharp: "Kill."

At the command, the red-robed figures leapt down from the rooftop, each shrouded in protective true energy, sword auras crisscrossing in the air! Their targets were the gathered members of both the righteous and demonic sects below!

"How bold!" roared Chen Tuozi, swinging his great palm at one of the red-robed men. But in that instant, a sword flashed forth to block him, then swept horizontally, forcing Chen Tuozi to retreat.

"Old man, you’ve got guts! Come, let’s have a bout," Qian Ten grinned, sword across his chest, eyes twinkling mischievously at Chen Tuozi.

In those few seconds, the red-robed figures had already plunged into the crowd, their swords slicing relentlessly, each stroke claiming a life. Their swordplay was ruthless, every move aimed at a vital point. Often, only a red flicker was seen, and the enemy’s neck would bear a crimson line before he collapsed, lifeless.

"We’re going in too!" Qian Thirty-Three rallied the Tiangang team, bellowing, "Don’t let the Earth Squad hog all the kills!"

As more joined the fray, the battle tipped overwhelmingly in their favor. The red-robed assailants were especially ferocious; unless one of the leading figures intervened directly, there was simply no resisting them. However, the leaders of the righteous and demonic factions were entangled with the foremost disciples of the Qian Kun Sect, unable to break free. Even a moment’s distraction would invite a sword strike.

Little Fatty Thirty-Six glanced around. Of everyone still on the rooftop, only he and Kun Three hadn’t joined the fight. He eyed the chaos below, his body trembling—his precious two hundred pounds of flesh could hardly withstand that carnage.

His eyes darted slyly. He pulled out a pouch of lime powder from his robes, snickering under his breath. Drawing a deep breath, his cheeks turned red, and with a mighty blow, he sent the powder swirling into the air. The lime danced on the wind, almost as if it had a mind of its own, whistling towards the melee below. In seconds, it hung over the heads of all, then dove straight for the eyes of the righteous and demonic sects.

"Ah! My eyes!"

"Who—who threw the lime?!"

"Curse their mothers!"

Cries of agony erupted as the sect members clutched at their burning eyes, cursing in rage and pain. The Qian Kun disciples’ eyes gleamed at the opening, their blades and swords flashing mercilessly toward their blinded foes.

Shu Qiu had been fending off three red-robed attackers at once; now, with lime burning in his eyes, he howled in pain, blindly shouting, "Who dares strike at me from the shadows?!"

Kun Three’s eyes flashed with cold light. In a blur, he shot down like lightning, hand gripping his sword hilt, swooping upon Shu Qiu like a wild goose. Every hair on Shu Qiu’s body stood on end; blinded, he could only raise his sword instinctively to block!

A cold flash—gone in a heartbeat.

Kun Three landed behind Shu Qiu, flicked the blood from his blade, and, pausing not at all, lunged back into the fray.

A red line appeared on Shu Qiu’s neck, blood gushing from his lips, his words already slurring. Such speed... That was his last conscious thought as his body tipped backward and crashed to the ground.

"Help me up! I can still fight." Qian Five, seeing his brothers’ valor, felt his heart surge with pride. It had been years since he’d fought alongside so many comrades. He clutched his sword, voice quavering, legs trembling. Had the Qian Kun Sect not arrived, he might have held on through sheer will, but now, with relief washing over him, he found his strength deserting him.

Shi Ya hurried to steady him, whispering gently, "You’re already so injured; you shouldn’t go back up."

Not far away, Qian Thirty-Three skewered a demonic sect disciple through the chest, then smiled back, "Exactly, Fifth Brother. If you have something more important to do, you should go. We’ll cover you here."

The demonic disciple spat blood and tried to strike back, but Qian Thirty-Three kicked him away and, with a clean slash, drew a line across his throat.

"That’s right—go on," Qian Ten called over his shoulder.

From afar, even Kun Three, drenched in the ecstasy of battle, glanced over and, though silent, nodded his approval.

"You all..." Qian Five paused, then, grabbing Shi Ya’s hand, began to make his way toward Swordpoint Manor.

The two wove through the carnage, any attack against them blocked by the disciples of the Qian Kun Sect.

Chen Tuozi’s sharp eyes caught sight of a slender object behind Shi Ya. He suddenly broke free of Qian Ten’s attacks, lunging to seize it.

A cold flash—and a jolt of searing pain. His hand was gone.

Kun Three, red robes billowing, stood before him, blade turning in a swift arc, a trail of white light left in its wake before he sheathed his sword.

So fast... Chen Tuozi collapsed, motionless.

"Give it your all—finish this quickly," Kun Three commanded, planting his sword in the ground and sweeping his gaze across the battlefield.

"Yes, sir!"

Qian Ten hurried over, glancing toward the town’s entrance with a puzzled look. "At Boss’s pace, he should’ve been here by now. Why hasn’t he shown up?"

At that, the icy mask on Kun Three’s face relaxed, a hint of a smile curling his lips—though his tone still held a chill, the teasing was unmistakable. "I heard Boss came alone this time. Little Red Candy didn’t tag along. Maybe he lost his way."

Qian Ten nodded, agreeing, "Very likely!"

...

On another rooftop nearby, Ji Huo muttered under his breath, "Those little brats—always slandering me."

Beside him, Xia Ningshang stifled a laugh. "They seem to know you well—even your sense of direction."

"That’s slander! Libel!" Ji Huo retorted.

"Is it?" Xia Ningshang’s eyes sparkled with mirth. "Young Master Ji, you lost your way several times on our journey here. If I hadn’t noticed in time, who knows what corner we’d have ended up in."

"I would’ve figured it out after a few more steps," Ji Huo mumbled.

Xia Ningshang giggled behind her hand.

Ji Huo watched the scene below, finally relaxing. It seemed there was no need for him to intervene after all. He hadn’t seen the Earth Squad in some time, but they’d grown much fiercer—throwing them onto the battlefield had been the right call. Especially Kun Three; his strength was now on par with Kun One’s from three years ago. He might even last a few moves against Little Red Candy.

"Hmm?" Ji Huo suddenly turned his gaze skyward, toward the edge of town. "Miss Xia, wait here. I’ll be back shortly."

With that, his figure blurred like a wandering dragon and vanished into the distance.

Xia Ningshang drew her gaze back from Ji Huo, her eyes returning to the town below. She murmured softly, "I never knew the Central Plains harbored a force like this."

Her gaze settled on the two figures supporting each other as they made their way toward Swordpoint Manor, her beautiful eyes flickering, lost in thought for a long while.