Chapter 33: The Lone-Armed Warrior Returns, Clash with a Vital Force Cultivator

Chapter 33: The Lone-Armed Warrior Returns, Clash with a Vital Force Cultivator

Vital Force Cultivator!

Though Yan Que’s voice was calm, his words struck like thunderclaps in the still air, sending ripples of shock through the crowd.

A Vital Force Cultivator—someone so rare in White Stone City that even catching a glimpse of one was a stroke of luck. And now, not only had they encountered one, but they’d drawn its wrath.

What stung most was that this Vital Force Cultivator had chosen the lowest of paths—ambushing merchant caravans like a common bandit.

A blatant act of bullying!

The group’s faces darkened with outrage.

The moment Third Chief’s strength was revealed, the Fang Clan’s advantage crumbled. Moments ago, they’d been holding their own against the bandits, but now the tide had turned.

“Leave those two alive. Kill the rest!”

Third Chief’s blade sliced through the air, pointing at Yan Que and Fang Rou as he barked his command.

“Understood!”

The bandits roared in unison, their morale surging. The Fang Clan, however, faltered, their formation crumbling.

“Run!” Yan Que shouted, ignoring his wounds. Every second counted.

He turned to Fang Rou, who helped him stagger to his feet.

“Rou’er, when I hold him off, you escape!” he whispered urgently.

“Uncle…” Fang Rou’s voice trembled. She’d never faced such chaos before. She’d believed Yan Que’s strength would protect them, but now he was injured—unarmed and cornered.

Before she could protest, Yan Que silenced her with a sharp glance.

As he turned to retrieve his blade, his eyes narrowed. Where was his sword?

Scanning the ground, he found no trace of his steel saber.

“Watch out!” Fang Rou screamed suddenly.

Yan Que abandoned his search, pivoting just in time to see Third Chief charging. He shoved Fang Rou aside and lunged forward.

The clash was brief. Yan Que, already weakened, was no match. Within moments, Third Chief struck him down, leaving him critically wounded.

Glaring at his foe’s smirk, Yan Que spat, “Do your worst!”

“A tough one, huh? Don’t worry—I won’t kill you,” Third Chief sneered.

“But your attitude grates on me. Let’s see how bold you are with your arms cut off!”

He advanced slowly, savoring Yan Que’s desperation.

Yan Que’s face paled. A swordsman without arms was a man without purpose.

“Don’t touch my uncle!” Fang Rou stepped forward defiantly.

Third Chief’s eyes flickered. In one fluid motion, he struck—his palm roaring like a gale.

Bang!

“Hmph? Who are you?”

A thunderous collision echoed.

Third Chief staggered back, his expression hardening as he faced the lone-armed man in the black coat.

One arm, half a sleeve—yet the figure radiated power. Towering over Fang Rou, his sheer presence exuded pressure.

The brief exchange had left Third Chief wary. This stranger was strong.

Without a word, Su Chen charged.

No time for questions—only action.

Third Chief snarled, his eyes glinting with cold fury. He launched himself forward like a cannonball.

“That’s my sword!”

Fang Rou gaped at the newcomer, but Yan Que’s eyes locked onto the steel saber at Su Chen’s waist.

The battlefield erupted.

Blades clashed, sending razor-sharp gusts slicing through the air. Cloaks flared, hair whipped wildly, as the two warriors blurred into a storm of motion.

Within moments, they’d exchanged over a dozen strikes, neither gaining ground.

“His Crescent Blade Art is incredible!” Yan Que marveled.

Initially concerned for Su Chen, he now saw the truth—Su Chen’s technique was honed to perfection, even surpassing its traditional limits. Though his style lacked endurance, Su Chen compensated with raw power, overwhelming Third Chief.

“Haa!”

Third Chief roared, desperation bleeding into his strike. He gripped his blade, channeling his full force into a single, blinding slash.

The air split with a shriek—a sound like steel scraping porcelain, vibrating through the crowd.

Fang Rou flinched, covering her ears, but her eyes never left the duel.

The surrounding skirmishes halted as all turned to watch.

The two figures stood locked in place, the silence broken only by the faint crack of strained steel.

Then—snap!

Both blades shattered, clattering to the ground.

The warriors leapt back, facing each other across the debris. The air hung thick with tension.

“You’re strong,” Third Chief growled. “But without a weapon, you’re nothing.”

He drove his broken blade into the earth, glaring.

Yan Que stepped forward. “Brother, be careful—he’s a Vital Force Cultivator!”

Su Chen’s expression didn’t waver. If anything, his eyes burned brighter.

“Let’s see how strong he really is,” he thought, sheathing his broken saber.

Third Chief’s lips curled. “Fool! Die!”

He surged forward, the ground trembling beneath him.

Su Chen’s pupils contracted. Planting his feet, he met the charge head-on.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end