CHAPTER 76: BANDITS AND MONSTERS

Flames tore through the camp in the next breath. Huo Yanyan raised both arms high, fire spiraling upward before bursting apart into a storm of blazing feathers. Each ember fell like a vengeful comet, igniting fur and flesh, forcing wolves into howling frenzies. Her laughter rang out through the crackle of fire, wild and unrestrained. "Burn! Dance for me!"

Bai Lian moved in stark contrast. No reckless shouts, no unnecessary exertion—her sword traced almost lazy arcs, each motion deceptively effortless. Yet wherever her blade passed, wolves collapsed in silence, their bodies cut apart with unnerving precision. To those watching, it was as if death itself had stepped onto the battlefield, calm, indifferent, inescapable.

At the center of the chaos stood Tian Lei, unshakable. His sword and bow alternated seamlessly, qi-forged arrows pinning beasts into the dirt while his blade carved down others in merciless succession. Every strike was clean, every step decisive. His movements were efficient, predatory, each blow striking with the inevitability of a dragon’s claw raking through the night.

For a fleeting heartbeat, it seemed the tide had shifted. Wolves wailed, their numbers dwindling beneath the combined fury of the five.

But then—

A whistle cleaved the night.

The wolves froze mid-charge, heads snapping toward the treeline. Torches flared in the darkness, casting long shadows. Dozens of figures advanced, clad in mismatched armor and bearing weapons that glimmered with malice. Bandits—but not mere rabble. Their stances spoke of discipline, their qi glowed faintly with practiced control.

At their head strode a scarred man draped in black leather, a steel-tipped whip coiled in his grasp. He cracked it once, and the wolves immediately retreated behind the human ranks, snarling but obedient.

Domesticated. Controlled.

"Did you really think beasts of this number just wandered in?" His sneer cut through the noise. "No, disciples of the sects... they are ours. And they came because we brought them."

Another sharp whistle. More shadows shifted, revealing archers lining the ridges, bladesmen tightening their ring around the wagons.

The truth struck hard: this was no accident, but a planned raid.

Zhang Wu spat blood and grinned savagely. "Bandits and their pets, eh? Now it feels like a real fight."

Huo Yanyan’s flames rose higher, her eyes glowing like rubies. "Good. I was tired of slaughtering mutts."

Shui Han’s spear spun in calm, practiced arcs, his stance sharp as honed ice. "Don’t underestimate them. Those beasts are blood-bound. Their strength is unnatural."

Bai Lian said nothing. She only shifted her grip, gaze locking on the whip-user. "Then we cut off the hand that holds the leash."

The whip cracked again. "Kill them all!"

And chaos descended.

Bandits surged forward from every side. Wolves howled in formation, their attacks woven seamlessly with their masters’. Blades clashed, arrows hissed overhead, qi techniques split the night into blinding bursts of flame, ice, and lightning.

Tian Lei raised his sword, qi surging like a storm, the dragon soul within him stirring hungrily. "Come!" he roared, cleaving into the enemy line, cutting through man and beast as one.

The camp became a warzone. Steel shrieked, wolves snarled, cultivators clashed. Sparks of qi turned the night into a tapestry of violence.

Zhang Wu’s spear became a hurricane of steel. "Iron-Blood Spear—Dragon Breaks the Sky!" His sweeping arc knocked three riders from their mounts. But before his laughter finished, a figure darted from the trees—a bandit captain with twin sabers. "Twin Fang Style—Moon-Splitting Slash!" His blades clashed with Wu’s spear in a storm of sparks, driving the giant back step by step.

On the flank, Huo Yanyan’s fire exploded into a lotus of flame, engulfing wolves in a sea of burning petals. "Crimson Flame Art—Blazing Lotus Burst!" Yet the blaze was met by another captain—a woman armored in black scales, venom dripping from her whip. "Serpent Lash—Venom Veins Bind!" The lash tore through fire, coiling Yanyan’s wrist. Flames sputtered where venom burned, forcing her to wrench away with a sharp cry as poison and fire warred in the air.

Shui Han’s zither thrummed. "Clear Sky Melody—Rain-Cutting Strings!" Invisible blades slashed through chains and flesh, scattering beasts and riders. But then a horn bellowed from the dark. A drummer advanced, striking his chest-bound drum. "Bone-Crushing War Drum!" Each beat shook the ground like an avalanche, drowning Han’s melody, scattering his blades of sound. His face whitened, hands trembling on the strings.

Bai Lian stepped into the gale, whispering softly. "Heavenly Whisper—Binding Gale Hymn." Wind spiraled, halting bandits mid-charge. Yet another figure answered—a talisman-wielding captain who tore his rune wide. "Mountain Seal—Immovable Earth Wall!" The gale broke against the summoned barrier like ripples on stone. His grin sharpened as the talisman crumbled, unleashing a quake that rattled the clearing.

The monk of the Earth Lotus Sect bellowed, staff glowing gold. "Earth Lotus Dharma—Golden Arhat’s Sweep!" He smashed beasts and riders aside, bones cracking under each thunderous strike. But his chant was suddenly interrupted—five assassins slid from the shadows, their daggers venom-green. "Ghost Blade Technique—Nine Venom Fangs!" Their flurry rang against his staff like a storm of steel raindrops.

The clearing had descended into utter chaos. Bandits and sect cultivators clashed with ferocity, spirit beasts snapping between them, qi techniques tearing earth and sky alike.

Yet through it all, Tian Lei remained silent death.

A bandit’s saber tore toward his chest. His sword moved. No sparks, no clash—only silence. The man blinked, confused, before blood spread across his chest. He fell without even realizing.

One step forward, another cut. Two more dropped before their cries could rise. Bandits pressed on him in waves, but none lasted more than a breath. Their lives ended quietly, petals scattered by wind.

Even when wolves and serpents lunged again and again, driven forward by their handlers, Tian Lei’s blade never faltered. Each charge ended the same: a flick, a step, a fall. Man, beast, it made no difference—their bodies crumpled in silence.

He pressed deeper, weaving through allies and enemies alike. Where others roared, he was calm. Where others struggled, he flowed. Silent. Inevitably fatal.

By the time the chaos thinned, the ground behind him was carpeted with bodies—bandits and beasts alike. All fallen, one by one, under his blade.

And then—his gaze shifted.

Not far, Huo staggered, shoulders heaving, twin blades trembling against her chest. Three bandits circled her, eyes sharp with killing intent. Blood streaked her arm, her footing slipped. One enemy lunged with a vicious cleave.

"Not yet."

Tian Lei’s body blurred. His blade whispered. The strike never landed. A thin line of red opened across the attacker’s chest, and he dropped lifeless at Huo’s feet.

She blinked, startled, but Tian Lei had already moved again. A spear thrust forward, brutal and precise, only to dissolve as his sword glided across it. With a subtle twist, the wielder’s throat opened, his voice silenced forever.

The last bandit snarled, raising his heavy axe with both hands, swinging down with killing intent. The strike never reached. Jade petals shimmered, blooming in a wreath of light. The axe rebounded, snapping its wielder’s wrists. Tian Lei’s follow-up cut was quiet, merciful, final.

Silence returned.

Tian Lei lowered his sword, gaze shifting to Huo. She leaned against a log, chest heaving, sleeve drenched crimson.

"Rest," he said, voice calm, steady as night air. "I’ll hold the line until you recover."

For the first time since the night began, Tian Lei was not just the storm that killed, but the shield that guarded.

Her twin blades dripped scarlet as Huo staggered back, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. The earlier graze burned with every motion, slowing her strikes just enough for the enemy to press harder. She clenched her teeth, frustration boiling—since when did she need someone else to cover her?

Then Tian Lei’s shadow cut across her vision. His sword swept out, effortless, precise, and the bandit pressing her fell in silence, eyes wide in disbelief before crumpling into the dust.

Her heart jolted.

Huo’s cheeks warmed, heat rising despite the cold sting of battle. Useless... I actually needed saving. The thought gnawed at her pride. She wanted to snarl, to shout at herself, to deny it—but her body ached, her wound throbbed, and the truth lingered bitter on her tongue.

Tian Lei moved past her like a stream flowing around stone, his strikes cutting down another foe that dared raise a blade toward her. For the briefest moment, her gaze caught his profile—the calm lines of his face, eyes steady, unshaken even amidst the chaos.

Her chest tightened.

"Damn..." she muttered under her breath, gripping her blades tighter. Not at the enemies. Not at the wound. But at the traitorous flutter in her chest that struck harder than any blade.

The battlefield raged on, but in that stolen heartbeat, she hated the weakness that forced her to lean on him—yet couldn’t stop the thoughts of his face from lingering in her mind.

A hour Later

Steel clashed one final time before silence fell. The last of the bandits dropped to the earth with a heavy thud, his blade slipping from lifeless fingers. The air, thick with blood and smoke, slowly cleared, leaving only the ragged sound of breathing and the distant crackle of torches guttering out.

Tian Lei lowered his sword, crimson streaks glinting along its edge before he flicked them away. His gaze swept across the camp—comrades catching their breath, some wounded, others steadying one another. The wild beasts that had been driven into the fray lay scattered, their hulking forms now still.