If I, a death row inmate, am not to become a demon, am I to become a member of the Imperial Guard?

Time seemed to stretch out at that moment.

Everyone in the camp saw the claw.

Huge, rough, composed of dark blue-green rock. It was covered with densely packed runes. The runes seemed alive, slowly moving across the surface of the stone claw. They exuded a chilling aura.

That wasn't just a simple physical attack.

The air is distorted.

An invisible rule, as the stone claw pressed down, enveloped the area where Zhou Yang was. Some of the exiles who were close by felt their bones cracking. It was as if they would be crushed into mincemeat by this force in the next second.

Qin Shuang's pupils suddenly contracted.

Her hand instinctively reached for the knife at her waist.

But she didn't move.

She stared intently at the figure's back.

Zhou Yang's back view. Very calm. Even somewhat lazy.

He didn't look up at the devastating stone claw. His gaze seemed fixed on the ground ahead, as if something there held more allure than the deathly threat above him.

Kurogane opened his mouth wide, but no sound came out.

crazy.

This person is really crazy.

Faced with such a monster, they didn't even try to dodge?

The sentinel moved swiftly. From the moment the attack was launched to the moment the stone claws fell, only a single breath elapsed. Before the absolute power of the rules, any attempt to dodge seemed futile.

The stone claws blocked out the sunlight.

The shadows completely engulfed Zhou Yang.

Just as the shadow fell.

Zhou Yang moved.

There were no extraordinary or shocking movements.

There is no footwork that is extremely fast.

He simply raised his right hand.

A simple, even somewhat slow, movement. His hand grasped the inconspicuous fragment of the dragon's spine at his waist.

The fragment was slightly warm to the touch.

A surge of warm energy instantly flowed from his palm, down his arm, through his meridians, and into every part of his body.

His calm expression finally showed a slight change.

His eyes lit up for a moment.

Like a spark streaking across the night.

Then, he thrust the sword forward.

There are no moves. There is no name.

It's the purest form, a thorn.

The tip of the dragon spine fragment glowed with a faint blue light. This light stood out sharply in the dim shadows, like a needle piercing through a thick curtain.

The stone claw and the fragment met.

There was no deafening explosion as expected.

There was no harsh friction from metal colliding with rock.

There was no sound at all.

There was only one kind of "crack" sound, indescribable in words. It was like a taut string snapping suddenly. The sound wasn't loud, but it was sharp enough to pierce to the bone.

Everyone present felt a buzzing in their ears.

They witnessed a bizarre scene.

The sentinel's massive stone claws, powerful enough to shatter mountains, stopped the moment they touched the tip of the dragon's spine fragment.

It's like a video that's been paused.

Then, center on the contact point.

On the surface of the stone claw, spiderweb-like gray cracks appeared.

The cracks spread extremely quickly.

In the blink of an eye, it covered the entire massive claw surface.

Then, one by one, the runes carved on the stone claws dimmed, like candles burning out.

"Click..."

A slight, crisp sound.

The tips of the stone claws were the first to crumble.

It didn't shatter. It didn't collapse.

Instead, it transformed into the finest gray fly ash. Like sandstone eroded by wind and sand for thousands of years, it dissipated into the air bit by bit at your fingertips.

This trend of disintegration spread rapidly upwards along the cracks.

The entire massive stone claw, starting from the point of contact, broke apart inch by inch, turning to ash.

In just a breath or two.

That once-mighty, all-powerful claw of power vanished completely. Not even a speck of dust the size of a fingernail remained. Only a faint gray dust lingered in the air.

Zhou Yang's steps did not stop.

As he thrust out the sword, he took a step forward.

This step allowed him to emerge from the shadows and re-enter the sunlight.

His sword followed suit.

The fragments of the dragon's spine continued forward relentlessly.

It pierced through the sentry's massive, hard chest.

They still didn't encounter any significant resistance.

Like a red-hot iron rod plunged into a block of cold butter, the fragment sank in easily, leaving only the last piece of the hilt in Zhou Yang's hand.

The sentry, that three-zhang-tall killing machine, froze.

It lowered its head, as if trying to see the small hole in its chest.

But it's too late.

Zhou Yang's stab wound was not just a physical one.

Rather, it is its core "rules".

A burst of blue light erupted from the sentinel's chest, like a bomb detonating underwater. The light was contained, not spreading outwards, but rather frantically washing over its body.

At that moment, all the runes on its body flashed.

Then, as if all its energy had been drained, it went out instantly.

Having lost the light of the runes, the Sentinel's body began to crumble from the inside out.

"puff……"

A dull thud.

It wasn't an explosion.

It is disintegration.

The spot on its chest where the dragon's spine fragment had pierced it was the first to turn to stone dust. This wave of disintegration spread throughout its body at a visible speed.

Its arms, legs, and head.

All bodies made of rock have lost the power to maintain their form.

They become crumbly and fragile from the inside out.

Then, under its own weight, it collapsed silently.

The exiles watched helplessly.

The monster that had plunged them into despair collapsed and crumbled rapidly, like a sandcastle whose foundation had been removed.

The enormous body was reduced to a messy, inconspicuous pile of stones in just a few seconds.

Finally, even the pile of stones broke apart.

It turned into dust that filled the sky and drifted away with the wind.

Only one person remained in the same spot.

Zhou Yang.

He slowly withdrew his hand that was holding the fragment of the dragon's spine.

The blue light on the fragment gradually faded, restoring its ancient appearance. However, it seemed to be covered in more dust than before.

He gently shook his hand.

It was as if he had only accomplished a trivial little thing.

The whole world fell silent.

A deathly silence.

The previous shouts, fear, and cries all vanished. Everyone stood frozen in place, like real stone statues.

Their minds were blank.

I can't understand what just happened.

That indestructible, unkillable Sentinel, the embodiment of absolute rules, that monster that plunged everyone into despair, just like that…

That's all?

A fatal blow?

I didn't even understand how he died.

Black Steel's mouth was agape, wide enough to fit a fist. His eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets. He stared intently at Zhou Yang, then glanced at the empty space on the ground, repeating this several times.

He wondered if he was dreaming.

A chill ran from his tailbone straight up to the top of his head.

This is not because of fear.

Rather, it's because of... reverence.

He finally understood.

What did Zhou Yang mean by what he said yesterday?

"Walls are meant to be pried open."

The piece of scrap metal in his hand was that "crowbar." It could pry open all the "rules" of this world.

Qin Shuang watched Zhou Yang's retreating figure.

Her clenched fist finally loosened. She let out a long, silent breath. In that breath, there was lingering fear, shock, but even more so, a certainty that... it was just as she had imagined.

She knew it.

This man always manages to create miracles.

Zhou Yang turned around.

His gaze swept across the entire room.

His gaze swept over the faces of the exiles—a blank, numb, fearful, yet tinged with a hint of ecstasy.

He raised his hand and pointed with the end of the dragon spine fragment to the pile of dust on the ground that had not yet completely dispersed.

His voice was very flat.

But it was like a heavy hammer, striking everyone's heart.

"remember."

It is not a god.

"It's not a rule either."

He paused.

"It's just a wall."

"A wall that can be torn down."

The exiles were startled.

The way they looked at Zhou Yang completely changed.

There is no more doubt, no more fear.

All that remained was an almost fanatical worship.

Black Steel was the first to react. He bowed deeply to Zhou Yang. This action was like triggering a switch.

The exiles around them all knelt down at once.

It was a dark, dense mass.

The people kneeling down were not human beings.

It is a hope.

A hope that could lead them out of this desperate situation.

Zhou Yang looked at the people kneeling on the ground, his face expressionless. He neither accepted nor refused.

He simply shifted his gaze to Qin Shuang beside him.

Qin Shuang was also looking at him.

A complex smile played in her eyes, as if to say, "Look, you've won over another group of people."

Zhou Yang's lips curled up slightly.

An almost imperceptible curve.

He walked up to Qin Shuang and said naturally:

"Let's go see what's behind the door."

Divine power is like a prison

The wind stopped.

The dust from the shattered stone sentinel statues was still slowly settling. The air was thick with the smell of rust and burnt metal, mingling with sweat and seeping into everyone's nostrils.

The surviving exiles collapsed to the ground.

They stared at the man standing in the center of the stone statue's ruins. Their eyes held fear and awe, as if they were seeing a god or demon.

Zhou Yang's breathing was steady. He didn't even glance at the spoils of war at his feet. He drew the fragment of the dragon's spine from his waist. The fragment was still covered in the stone statue's powder. He used a clean cloth to slowly wipe it clean. His movements were gentle and focused.

It was as if that earth-shattering blow had merely brushed away a speck of dust from his shoulder.

Dead silence.

This camp, once filled with despair and screams, is now so quiet you can hear your heart pounding in your chest.

Black Steel was the first to move.

His knees buckled, and he knelt heavily, his forehead pressed against the dusty ground. The burly man, his face contorted with rage, spoke in a hoarse voice that drowned out all other noises.

"Greetings, Master!"

These two words, like a spark, instantly ignited the entire camp.

Behind him, a dark mass of people knelt down. The sounds of kowtowing rose and fell, mixed with excitement and trembling sobs.

"Greetings, Master!"

"We are willing to die for you!"

The sounds surged like a torrent. Everyone who knelt bowed their heads low. They dared not look Zhou Yang in the eye. That figure was beyond their comprehension. He was a powerful being outside the rules, their only hope for survival.

Zhou Yang paused for a moment while wiping away the fragments.

He didn't turn around.

His gaze remained fixed on the weapon in his hand. The dark metallic surface reflected his calm, unwavering eyes.

"Black Steel".

His voice wasn't loud, but it reached everyone's ears clearly.

"Your subordinate is here!" Kurogane suddenly raised his head, his back ramrod straight.

"Clean up the battlefield," Zhou Yang said calmly. "Collect all usable weapons, wearable clothes, and food."

"Yes, Master!"

Black Steel immediately stood up, turned around, and roared at the people behind him, "Did you all hear that? The master has ordered! Move! Those who don't want to live can continue lying on the ground waiting to die!"

The exiles awoke as if from a dream. They scrambled to their feet, their eyes gleaming with a burning light—the ecstasy of surviving a catastrophe and a yearning for the future.

They began to act.

Some rushed toward their fallen comrades, not to mourn, but to retrieve the water pouches and provisions from their waists. Others cautiously approached the fragments of the statue, trying to find usable materials.

For the first time, the camp became orderly. The looting was no longer chaotic, but rather a collection under a unified command.

Black Steel personally led several strong men to begin moving the stone statues' corpses. They wanted to see if there was anything of value among these stone monsters.

Zhou Yang put away the fragments of the dragon's spine.

He looked around. The wounded lay groaning on the ground. Those who could stand were busy. No one was slacking off, no one was complaining.

His gaze returned to Black Steel.

Black Steel was directing several men to drag the body of an exile to a corner. His movements were swift and efficient, his face devoid of any superfluous expression.

This is the law of survival in exile. Death is the norm, and grief is a luxury.

Zhou Yang took a few steps forward.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at him respectfully.

Zhou Yang's gaze swept over the wounded lying on the ground. Their wounds were all different; some were cut open by rubble, and some had their bones broken by the force of the sentry's attack.

"The wounded stay behind," he said, his voice still calm. "The rest of you, follow."

A commotion broke out in the crowd.

Leave the wounded behind? In this place that has just been through a battle and is fraught with danger? That would be tantamount to sentencing them to death.

A flicker of hesitation crossed Black Steel's face. But he didn't ask why. He simply looked at Zhou Yang, awaiting the next command.

Zhou Yang's gaze swept over everyone.

"Those who dare not leave," he paused, his voice turning cold, "will bear the consequences."

No one spoke.

But everyone was thinking. Staying meant certain death. Going with them might mean survival, even if the future was uncertain.

An exile with a leg injury struggled to his feet. He tried several times, but failed. He looked at the crowd with despair and pleading in his eyes.

A one-eyed man with a cane glanced at him, then at Zhou Yang's back. He suddenly threw down his cane and hopped forward on one leg, leaving a bloody mark on the ground with each step.

"Hey, wait for me!"

He shouted hoarsely.

This action is like a signal.

The wounded who could move began to struggle. They helped each other or crawled on the ground, trying to keep up with the main force.

The seriously wounded, unable to move, could only watch in despair as the crowd receded into the distance. Their eyes, which had been pleading, turned deathly still.

No one looked back.

Zhou Yang watched all of this with no expression on his face.

This is not kindness. This is selection.

What he needs are warriors, pawns who can keep up with him. Burdens must be discarded.

He turned around, no longer looking at the scene behind him.

"keep going."

His voice was devoid of any emotion.

Black Steel immediately responded, "Yes, Master!"

He yelled at the crowd behind him, "Keep up! Anyone who dares to fall behind, I'll be the first to rip their head off!"

The exiles gritted their teeth, dragging their weary bodies, and followed Zhou Yang's pace. The only sounds in the procession were heavy footsteps and suppressed breathing.

At the very front of the group, Qin Shuang walked quietly beside Zhou Yang.

She didn't utter a single word from beginning to end. She simply watched. Watched how Zhou Yang subdued this group of unruly exiles in the simplest and most direct way.

Violence, intimidation, and then hope.

Finally, with a cold command, complete control was achieved.

She had to admit that this man was terrifying. His methods were more effective and more blatant than any political maneuvering she had ever witnessed in the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

Qin Shuang lagged slightly behind, standing shoulder to shoulder with Zhou Yang.

She leaned closer and lowered her voice so that only the two of them could hear her.

Is it very energy-intensive?

She was asking about lifespan.

Zhou Yang looked straight ahead and shook his head.

"No."

The corner of his mouth seemed to twitch slightly, so quickly it was almost an illusion.

"Just a warm-up."

Qin Shuang's heart skipped a beat for no apparent reason. A mere warm-up... and he'd taken down such a terrifying monster? She suddenly wondered, if Zhou Yang got serious, what in this world couldn't he do?

She didn't ask any more questions.

She simply followed him silently, like a silent shadow.

The group passed through the camp. Ahead stood a massive stone gate. That gate had remained tightly shut until now. The stone sentinels were its gatekeepers.

Now, the gatekeeper is dead.

The stone gate is engraved with intricate and ancient patterns. During the battle, it was dented by flying pebbles, but it remained tightly closed.

Black Steel walked to the door and pushed it open.

The stone gate remained completely still.

He turned around and looked at Zhou Yang with some difficulty: "Master, this door..."

Zhou Yang ignored him.

He walked straight to the door, reached out, and gently touched the cold patterns on the door.

A faint energy flowed from his fingertips into the doorway.

A knowing glint flashed in his eyes.

The door was locked. Locked by the core of that stone sentinel statue. Once the sentinel died, the lock opened.

It just requires a bit of skill to open it.

Zhou Yang withdrew his hand and said to the people behind him, "Everyone, step back."

The exiles immediately scattered back, watching the massive stone door warily.

Zhou Yang lifted his foot.

Instead of kicking, he gently tapped a small, inconspicuous corner directly below the stone gate with the tip of his foot.

Click.

A soft sound.

It was as if some mechanism had been triggered.

Immediately afterwards, the massive stone door emitted a dull, grinding sound. Instead of opening to the sides, it slowly rose upwards.

Dust settled down.

The scene behind the door was gradually revealed to everyone.

It wasn't another campsite, nor was it some kind of treasure trove.

Instead, it was a bottomless staircase. The staircase stretched downwards and disappeared into endless darkness.

A cold, damp wind blew up from below, carrying an indescribable stench of decay.

Everyone fell silent.

They stared at the dark staircase leading to the unknown, their faces filled with fear and unease.

In this land of exile, the unknown often meant death.

Black Steel's expression also turned serious. He gripped the iron knife in his hand and looked at Zhou Yang.

Awaiting his new orders.

Zhou Yang stood at the doorway, feeling the chilly wind. His expression remained unchanged.

Darkness was never a threat to him.

He simply turned his head and looked at Qin Shuang beside him.

Qin Shuang was also looking at him.

A complex smile played in her eyes, as if to say, "Look, you've won over another group of people."

Zhou Yang's lips curled up slightly.

An almost imperceptible curve.

He walked up to Qin Shuang and said naturally:

"Walk."

"Go and see what's behind the door."

Qingyan Guard

The temple was even colder, with light filtering through cracks and falling on the carvings in the bluestone floor. The powder within the patterns trembled slightly under each step, as if about to spill something. Zhou Yang, leading Qin Shuang, Hei Gang, and several exiles, descended the stone steps. The space ahead gradually opened up, with bronze lamps on the ceiling casting concentric circles of light. Below stood several withered trees, their dry branches leaning precariously like wounded arms.

Zhou Yang didn't speak, but simply stepped over a horizontal bluestone. His expression remained languid, the dragon spine fragment in his hand occasionally catching his eye. Qin Shuang walked beside him, her cloak billowing in the wind. Her gaze never left the passage. Black Steel, at the back of the group, glanced around from time to time, his nostrils flaring slightly.

The temple's architectural style shifted again; the passageway that appeared before them was no longer made of rough, shiny stone. The walls turned a deep blue-green, the flagstones were polished smooth, and their surfaces were engraved with what appeared to be symbolic totems. The totems stretched along the passageway, as if forming some kind of whisper. Each pattern had an exaggerated mouth with rough teeth, seemingly uttering some kind of name.

"The guardians deep within the temple should be more than just stone statues." Black Steel's voice was deep, but not hurried. He fixed his gaze on the place where the totem met the shadow.

Zhou Yang nodded slightly. He touched the shard at his waist, feeling its warning ahead. The shard was a few degrees warmer than its surroundings, like a thread pulling him forward.

Footsteps were muffled between the bluestone walls as the procession reached a massive archway. The air outside suddenly turned cold. Two statues, half-human and half-beast, stood on either side of the archway, each holding a spear. The texture of the bluestone gleamed damply in the firelight.

"Let's stop first." Qin Shuang tilted her head slightly to Zhou Yang and pointed to the open space by the door. "There are people waiting there."

The area outside wasn't dark; instead, it was illuminated by rings of torches. The torch flames were bluish, casting long shadows on the walls. The flagstone pavement was highlighted by the firelight, as if someone was watching every step. Then, a group of figures entered from outside.

About fifty men, clad in Qingyan-style armor. The armor was made of dark blue-green rock, with a finely textured surface resembling a cross-section of a mountain. The plates were connected by black copper chains, producing a low clanging sound as they walked. The helmets had no visors, the smooth surfaces revealing each man's eyebrows and eyes. Sword-wielding soldiers followed behind, occasionally shifting their hips to confirm their position.

Their steps were precise, their formation impeccable, and their longswords were sheathed in bronze at their waists. At the head of the procession, a young man stepped forward alone. He was not particularly tall, but broad-shouldered, and his every movement exuded an elegant air. In his hand he held a halberd, its shaft wrapped with a torn ribbon. The tip of the halberd gleamed with a grayish-blue light, like a crushed ice blade.

"Guardian of Qingyan." The young man pressed down with his left foot, the tip of his halberd drawing a thin line on the bluestone, the sound like a cold knife scraping stone.

Zhou Yang stopped and looked the man up. There was a hint of contempt in the Qingyan Guard's expression, and the corners of his mouth were slightly raised.

"Where did this beggar come from, daring to enter the temple?" the young man said to his deputy, his tone carrying a hint of earthiness. His gaze swept over Zhou Yang, as if confirming an unknown stain. He didn't move, but merely assessed Zhou Yang's worth with a single glance.

The deputy beside him bowed silently, holding two short spears. His back looked tense, clearly indicating he didn't want to get into a conflict.

Black Steel stepped forward, his voice as steady as before: "We are the Black Steel faction, and we have come here..."

"Black Steel?" The young man raised an eyebrow, seemingly hearing an unfamiliar term. He interrupted Black Steel abruptly, sidestepping and slamming his halberd down, the tip striking the bluestone. The bluestone's texture gleamed harshly beneath the halberd's tip. "Never heard of it. Get out of the way, don't dirty the path of the Green Rock Guards."

The young man flipped his fingers upwards, and the tip of his halberd gently touched the ground. The scattered powder from the black stone was compressed, like suppressed breathing within a temple.

Qin Shuang didn't make a move; she simply took a small step forward, her eyes as cold as bronze on a wall.

Zhou Yang turned to look at her, a slightly sarcastic smile on his face: "You just sit here guarding the bluestone, guarding the totem, have you ever thought about who took them from?"

The young man from the Qingyan Guard's eye twitched, his contempt undiminished, but his grip on the halberd tightened. He glanced at the soldiers behind him, a faint smile on his face: "You're right. We don't know who lost what we're guarding. But this temple is the lifeblood of Qingyan, not yours."

Zhou Yang took a step to the side. His gaze swept from the young man to the halberd, subconsciously trying to discern its construction. The Qingyan Guard's halberd was made of Qingyan alloy, with a thin, low-profile raised line at the end, facilitating quick withdrawal. It appeared to be both powerful for long-range attacks and adaptable for close combat.

"You're guarding the lifeline, but who are you guarding?" Qin Shuang's voice was calm, yet it carried a chilling undertone. She glanced at Zhou Yang again, a flicker of emotion in her eyes. "You think that by guarding the totem, you can control the temple. But you've forgotten that there are people on the totem."

The young man's eyes darted around before settling on Qin Shuang. He tightened his shoulders again, as if holding his breath: "The Guardians of Qingyan do not allow any exiles to set foot here. You're not an exile? Then get out of the temple."

"Qin Shuang." Zhou Yang's voice was lower than before, his gaze never leaving the young man. "You guard this temple, actually afraid that someone will take it away. Then let me ask you this: are you guarding the bluestone you see, or the territory written beneath it?"

The young man frowned slightly, then softened his tone: "We are protecting the orthodoxy of Qingyan. People like you will only turn Qingyan into ruins."

Zhou Yang did not answer. He withdrew his hand from his eyes, his gaze calm. His body seemed to be deliberately slowing down, as slow as his breathing itself.

He turned to Qin Shuang and whispered, "Don't move yet. Let me try."

Qin Shuang looked at him, a question in her eyes: "What test?"

Zhou Yang glanced around. The air in the temple smelled dry and cracked, the smoke from the torches carrying the fragrance of minerals. He looked at the Qingyan Guard. Their artificial aura was mixed with the coldness of the bluestone. He then looked at the ribbons on their halberds, noticing that the patterns on them were not ordinary designs, but the insignia of the Qingyan Guard. The patterns represented ranks, and the color of each rank corresponded to a different status.

"Your troops are numerous, but where is the bugle call for defense?" Zhou Yang asked. His voice was not loud, but it had the force of a knife.

The young man from the Azure Rock Guard twitched his brow again. However, he didn't speak again.

Zhou Yang turned his attention to the ground beneath his feet. His hand gently traced the crack in the stone. A faint vibration emanated from the crack. He stepped on it lightly, and a slight crack appeared, revealing a layer of silvery-white metallic light. This metallic light flowed subtly, as if carrying an electric current. He lifted his leg and stepped down, and the gravel crumbled, revealing a slab of bluestone. It turned out that the slab was a button.

"That's not a trap," Qin Shuang reminded her.

Zhou Yang didn't turn around. His voice was low as he said, "This button is usually used to test intruders. You're guarding Qingyan because this button isn't under your control."

Qin Shuang understood his meaning. Their gazes returned to the young man from the Azure Rock Guard. Upon hearing this, the young man suddenly felt a surge of tension. He abruptly swung his halberd, the tip casting a shadow that seemed to tear through their vision.

"Get out." He raised his halberd, his voice turning cold.

Zhou Yang lifted his foot but didn't move, his figure as if waiting.

The young man from the Azure Rock Guard saw something called "confidence" beneath the halberd tip. It seemed hollowed out, yet still creaking. With a loud bang, he roared and thrust his halberd forward. Zhou Yang sidestepped, taking a step forward. His body didn't accelerate, but it was as if he knew the halberd's trajectory beforehand. The bluestone beneath his feet moved, as if he had stopped its rhythm.

The halberd tip sliced ​​through space, its cold metal blade gleaming. The soldiers of the Azure Rock Guard trembled instantly. After the halberd roared, a ring of azure light exploded out, like a burst of flame. Every movement he made carried a flowing rhythm, as if someone were controlling him.

Suddenly, the young man from the Azure Rock Guard roared, "He's using the Dragon Spine!"

Black Steel stepped forward, raising his hand to strike. But Qin Shuang blocked him.

"Observe," she said. Her voice was low, but every word was uttered with a sense of urgency.

Zhou Yang took a step to the side. The fragment of the dragon's spine suddenly emitted a silver light. In an instant, his figure left a trail of light on the bluestone. The light seemed compressed reality, carrying a dreamlike weight, and rushed directly towards another passage.

The young man from the Azure Rock Guard was stunned by the sudden light and shadow, his halberd slipping slightly from his hand in shock. He turned to look at Zhou Yang, a look of confusion in his eyes. His movements froze. The childhood instruction to never hold back trembled unsteadily at this moment.

Zhou Yang didn't make a move. He simply stopped in mid-air. His feet didn't leave the ground, but he solidified the cracks in the bluestone. The streak of light gradually disappeared, like dust blown away by the wind.

"The fact that the halberds don't move away as they pierce the air shows that you have good eyesight," Zhou Yang said. "But have you ever considered who is controlling the halberds inside the temple?"

The young man from the Qingyan Guard stood there, half calm and half panicked. Zhou Yang's voice was like the wind, brushing past his shoulder.

"Get out of my way." The young man raised his halberd again, a glint of red flashing in his eyes. "If you don't move, I'll drive you all out."

Qin Shuang remained calm, merely raising her chin slightly: "Expel? Then you should take off your safety shield first."

Zhou Yang continued walking. Hei Gang sighed and followed. The soldiers of the Azure Rock Guard were thrown into disarray. Their eyes seemed to be seeing another force ahead for the first time. That force wasn't theirs; it was merely a fleeting glimpse of light and shadow, yet it made them somewhat understand the meaning of all their training.

"We're just guarding a place," the young man said in a low voice, his voice filled with anger and a sense of helpless fear.

"What you're upholding isn't important," Zhou Yang replied calmly. "What's important is whether you believe the current rules must continue."

"What exactly do you want?" the young man gritted his teeth and raised his halberd once more.

"I want to know whose path this Qingyan you're guarding is," Zhou Yang said, turning to Qin Shuang. "Let's show them how far we can go."

Qin Shuang nodded slightly, a barely perceptible spark in her eyes. Her fingers traced the hilt of the sword, as if listening to its heartbeat.

Zhou Yang walked up to the group of Qingyan soldiers, pointed at the Qingyan Guard youths, and said, "If you continue to block our way, just wait to slowly disappear into the temple. No one will remember that you are the Qingyan Guards. This temple has long been occupied by someone else."

His voice didn't rise; it was even a little languid. But the phrase "occupied by others" was like a stone thrown into water, creating ripples in the young man's ears.

"Get out," the young man from the Azure Rock Guard said again. His pupils dilated slightly, as if he was trying his best to interpret the words as an order.

Zhou Yang withdrew his hand and leaned back slightly. He looked at the other person with a familiar and insightful gaze.

"You are the Guardian of Qingyan," he said calmly. "But how convinced are you that you truly belong to Qingyan? Or are you merely clinging to the past glory, following others?"

The young man raised his halberd and let out a low roar. The halberd tip dipped downwards, and a beam of azure light rose from the ground. The soldiers of the Azure Rock Guard immediately took a step back. The azure light was suppressed into the ground, and flames spread along the crack in the earth.

Qin Shuang stopped beside Hei Gang and glanced at Zhou Yang. Zhou Yang looked at the young man from the Azure Rock Guard, a slight smile playing on his lips. He made himself appear unhurried.

"Since you're guarding Qingyan, then tell us where the real protective talisman of Qingyan is." Zhou Yang's voice was calm, as if he were chatting.

The young man fell silent. His gaze swept around, but he couldn't find an answer that would convince him.

"Amulet," he muttered to himself, "long ago..."

Before he could finish speaking, the halberd trembled in his hand. The tremor quickly spread throughout his body. His hands were sweaty, and the texture of the bluestone gave off an unpleasant coldness in his palms.

He lowered his head, and an image suddenly flashed in his pupils: an old man standing at the entrance of the temple, holding a blue stone in his palm. The old man said, "Qingyan is not a mountain."

The young man suddenly looked up, his lips moving as if sucking in a memory.

"Qingyan is a group of people," Zhou Yang said. "It's each and every one of you. Now it's your own path you've chosen."

He raised his hand, his gaze passing over the young man and landing on the Qingyan soldiers in the ranks. The soldiers' eyes gradually focused, as if drawn by a warm current towards some exit.

"We don't want to fight," Zhou Yang said. "Neither do you. Get out of the way." After he finished speaking, he said no more.

Zhou Yang slowly raised his hand to shoulder height, then let it fall naturally. Throughout the entire process, he didn't move any closer. Only the light in his eyes carried a silent signal.

The young man from the Azure Rock Guard gritted his teeth, his hand gripping his halberd tightly. The halberd's tip flashed coldly in the air. He stood there for a long while, finally collapsing to the ground with the wind. At that moment, the halberd hit the ground with a dull thud. The entire passage seemed to gasp for air.

He stood there, motionless, his halberd pressed firmly against the bluestone wall, a few pieces of stone falling from the rock face. The stones landed on the ground with a dull thud. The soldiers retreated, but the halberd remained motionless.

"If you want to leave, then leave," the young man suddenly said.

He's not making concessions, he's giving up.

"The Guards of Qingyan are Qingyan itself," he said. "What you want... is the path beneath the Qingyan stone."

Kurogane said softly, "He knows."

Qin Shuang frowned, looking at the young man. Her gaze turned steady. "The road to Qingyan doesn't belong to you just because you guard it. It belongs to all of you. If you're unwilling to guard it, then give the road to us."

Zhou Yang took a step forward, his foot landing on the bluestone. A slight warmth emanated from his feet. The temperature of the bluestone seemed to respond to his footsteps. He stepped forward and whispered to the Bluestone Guards, "Your orders are based on rigidity. One day it will break. Today, you can choose whether to let it break."

The young man knelt down on the ground, his hands supporting him. His lips were dry, and his tongue moved slightly in his mouth.

"You—" the young man from the Green Rock Guard said in a low voice, "who...who are you?"

"We are Blacksteel," Blacksteel responded. His tone was gentle and to the point.

"And...and us too," Zhou Yang said.

Then he turned and gestured for Qin Shuang and Hei Gang to retreat. The three of them slowly retreated to the entrance of the passage, their backs to the Azure Rock Guards. Zhou Yang took one last look into the depths of the passage, where the sound of the Azure Rock Halberd scraping against the ground could be heard. He didn't move, as if waiting for a response.

The young man from the Azure Rock Guard raised his head, watching their departing figures. He stood silently. The light of Azure Rock spread behind him. Something new slowly emerged in his eyes. It wasn't contempt, but wariness.

"Don't come with us," he commanded. But his voice lacked power.

Zhou Yang didn't look back. His steps continued as he strode deeper into the temple. The Azure Rock Guards behind him remained standing. Their halberds were stuck in the bluestone, like a mark that hadn't been removed. The vibrations from the halberds hitting the ground still lingered in the air.

In the shadows of the temple, the light from Azure Rock seemed like heavy breathing. At this moment, a seed had been planted between the Azure Rock Guardians and Black Steel. They were no longer simply enemies, but a tacit understanding of mutual protection.

Zhou Yang walked through the passage, his figure beginning to be swallowed by the deeper shadows. He glanced back one last time; the Qingyan Guards were still standing. Their halberds lay motionless in the ground. No one came after him.

A cold wind blew from the depths of the passage, causing the bluestone walls to gleam faintly. The wind carried a slightly dry smell, yet also a refreshing quality, as if it had been polished by sand and gravel. After the wind subsided, the temple returned to silence.

"Come in," Zhou Yang said in a low voice. His voice wasn't loud, but it sounded like he held a key to a lock.

The young man from the Azure Rock Guard stood still, still clutching his halberd. But the grip on his hand was looser than before. He slowly withdrew his gaze, his eyes passing over Zhou Yang's departing figure and turning towards the depths of the passage.

So Zhou Yang led Qin Shuang, Hei Gang, and the exiles onward. Their steps were slow, yet heavy. The ancient totems on the stone wall seemed to come alive, silently watching them.

Ants spouting nonsense

At the end of the corridor, a stone door slowly opened from the inside. Behind the door was a long, narrow courtyard paved with bluestone and covered with runes on both sides. Light filtered down from above, dappling the ground. Tiny dust particles swirled gently in the air with each step.

Zhou Yang stood at the entrance, his gaze not reaching the depths of the courtyard. Qin Shuang and Hei Gang followed closely behind, the exiles forming a line and consciously making way. Li Baodao and his group stood at the back, their eyes somewhat unfocused, but they did not move.

In the courtyard, a group of people formed a semi-circle. The young man at the front was tall and thin, with a bronze halberd at his waist, scars on his face, and a wary look in his eyes. Their uniforms were identical, with the insignia of the Qingyan Guard embroidered on their chests. At this moment, that insignia, reflected in Zhou Yang's eyes, resembled an unpolished piece of bronze.

The young man raised his hand, signaling Black Steel to step back a few paces. Black Steel obeyed curtly, moving to the sides. His lips twitched slightly, seemingly dissatisfied, but he did not resist.

"You're their leader?" The young man strode forward, his eyes scanning Zhou Yang. A slight smirk played on his lips. "You don't look like much. You can tell it's not gilded."

His voice was cold and defiant. The silence in the courtyard was heavier than the grass and trees.

Zhou Yang glanced briefly at his surroundings. He didn't take a step forward, nor did anyone step forward to protect him; his body was like a silent stone. His breathing was steady, yet his aura made people automatically back away.

"Speak," the young man said with a sneer. "Kneel down and apologize. Take back the audacity you had in daring to disturb our Beiling."

Beside him, a guard stepped forward, tracing a hook shape between the halberd handle and the hammer with his finger. As he drew closer, he deliberately lowered his voice: "Useless dog, kneel down and apologize." His voice was mocking, as if he were laughing at Zhou Yang's status for wearing cloth shoes.

Zhou Yang remained motionless. Qin Shuang stepped back half a step from the side, her eyes never leaving the guard. Her breathing became heavier, and mist quietly gathered in her sleeves.

The guard raised his hand, his strength noticeably increasing, and pushed hard. The sound of wind in the hall stopped abruptly, and even the wind carried a slight dryness.

Qin Shuang merely extended a finger, the icy air piercing like a thin knife. The guard still casually lunged forward, unaware of the sudden change in the situation. A chill flashed across his chest. That coldness was sharper than the wind of the Northern Ridge, piercing straight into his throat.

The guard stumbled back two steps, his weapon slipping from his hand. A chill gripped his ankles, pinning him to the ground. His lower body muscles stiffened, even his breathing cracked. Frost slowly seeped from the ground, enveloping his torso.

Qin Shuang withdrew her fingers. As the chill dissipated, the guard coughed softly, unable to move. He seemed pinned to the ground by steel nails. On the ground, the weapon lay broken in two, the blade pointing upwards.

In the courtyard, the young man bearing the Qingyan mark narrowed his eyes. He recognized the technique. The Ice Soul Profound Technique, one of the legendary techniques circulating beyond the Northern Ridge. It wasn't the common cold-based technique, but rather one with layers of barriers, capable of freezing a person in place. He never expected this technique to appear before his very eyes.

"You're from Jianghuai?" he murmured, a hint of surprise in his voice. His gaze shifted to Qin Shuang's waist, instinctively scrutinizing her waist token and soft sheath. The patterns carved on that emblem were different from those of the Qingyan Guards he had seen before; they were sharp and intricate.

Qin Shuang's gaze remained calm. She did not respond. She merely raised her chin slightly, as if to indicate some kind of tacit understanding.

The young man withdrew his surprise, a cold laugh returning to his lips. He turned his gaze back to Zhou Yang. "A fugitive venturing into Beiling territory, quite bold. Is he courting death?"

"What you said was rather awkward." Zhou Yang didn't respond directly. He slowly raised his hand, gesturing for those around him to move aside. The gesture was small, yet it gave the impression that he was in control.

"Kill the man," the young man commanded. "Take the woman away. All their belongings are ours. Anyone who dares to approach again, riddle them with bullets."

As soon as he finished speaking, a low, suppressed gong sounded in the hall. Several guards wielding halberds stepped forward simultaneously, their movements swift. Hei Gang crouched down, protecting Qin Shuang at her side.

The air in the courtyard seemed to freeze. Qin Shuang remained calm, a slight chill in her eyes. She didn't draw her sword, but she didn't back down either. Zhou Yang turned his head slightly, looking this way, his gaze devoid of anxiety, as if he had calculated the rhythm of the music beforehand.

The young man spoke again: "Everyone needs your lives, so hand over the stuff first." There was a deliberate sense of control in his tone.

Zhou Yang remained standing in the same spot. His peripheral vision swept over the exiles. They nervously looked up, as if they could hear their own hearts pounding.

"You can kill him, but you can't kill me." Zhou Yang took his first step. His steps weren't heavy, but with each stomp, the surrounding air pressure seemed to be flattened. "Your color is similar to the stone walls here. What good would it do to die here?"

The young man raised his halberd. The tip gleamed faintly, aimed at Zhou Yang's chest. The engravings on the halberd shaft suddenly twitched, as if gripped too tightly.

"Then let's begin." He grinned, a cold smile playing on his lips.

Zhou Yang didn't speak again. His body straightened. Suddenly, he didn't move, yet the pressure was felt within three steps. Qin Shuang's palms felt slightly cold; she saw the light in Zhou Yang's eyes, a hound-like focus.

The young man swung his halberd. The halberd drew an arc in the air. Gusts of wind rose from the bronze. The gleam of the halberd's tip swept across the scene like a blade slicing through the night.

Zhou Yang didn't blink. Suddenly, he raised his arm, his elbow blocking like a bridge pillar. He pushed his palm through the air. The vibration traveled from his wrist to his fingertips, transmitting to the bronze halberd.

The halberd stopped. The chill in the air abruptly vanished. The surroundings were as still as if a pause button had been pressed.

Qin Shuang and Hei Gang both knew that Zhou Yang hadn't used his true moves from beginning to end. He had simply brought the edge of the barrier closer. As long as he didn't move, the halberd wouldn't move either.

Some of the people in the courtyard were swallowing hard, while others gripped their weapons tightly. The young man's expression changed. "How dare you. You think a few words can shield you from seventeen hidden weapons?" he sneered. "Fine, kill one then."

He gave the order. Several guards rushed out, their halberds flashing like rain. They didn't wait for Qin Shuang to exert her strength, nor for Zhou Yang to make a move.

The air seemed to tear apart once more. Zhou Yang slowly withdrew his hand, his body suddenly becoming viscous. Qin Shuang also unleashed a cloud of icy mist, raising her black steel blade.

But the sounds in the courtyard grew lively. Far from being in a hurry, they reveled in the exhilarating feeling of being superior. Even when they slammed each other to the ground, they felt naturally superior.

"Go to hell." The young man spoke again, deliberately lowering his voice. As he spoke, he looked at Zhou Yang, his eyes growing increasingly heated. "Even if you've played the card of death before, don't pass it on to us."

Zhou Yang smiled, a hint of mockery in his eyes. He lightly tapped the ground with his toe. The sound was almost swallowed by the wind.

"You will be saved by yourselves," he said softly, his voice gentle, like a reminder to an old friend.

The Qingyan Guards didn't move. They were still preparing to act. The young man remained standing there, exuding an unusually comforting confidence, looking down on everyone.

Zhou Yang took his second step. He didn't rush towards his opponent, but instead walked towards that even darker corner. Hei Gang and Qin Shuang simultaneously brandished their swords, protecting him.

"Kill the man, take the woman away," the young man ordered again. His tone was soft, but it sounded like a judgment.

He didn't have time to notice the slight tremor of the bluestone beneath Zhou Yang's feet. He kicked away some accumulated dust, and tiny grains of sand fell. His gaze drifted to the piece of gravel that had just been polished open.

"Let's begin." Zhou Yang's smile deepened. Every word he spoke was like a nail, striking a chord deep within people's hearts.

Silence settled once more in the courtyard. The command was given, and several halberd tips gleamed coldly, thrusting towards Zhou Yang simultaneously. Zhou Yang didn't dodge. He simply sidestepped, using the momentum from his stance to push the impact against the halberd tips.

"It's too loud," he muttered. The sound wasn't loud, but it was heard by Ji Jian.

The young man from the Azure Rock Guard gasped sharply. He seemed to shrink into a single point, as if fixed in place by starlight. Qin Shuang glanced at him, her eyes suddenly turning cold. She said softly, "They kill without warning, and now you still want to provoke them?"

The young man did not answer. His gaze swept over Zhou Yang, then suddenly turned to the darkest part of the courtyard.

"Here..." He gritted his teeth, and with a swift motion, brought the knife down. "Kill him."

Another uproar erupted in the courtyard. They charged even faster, as if their feet were on fire. With each step Zhou Yang took, a section of the surrounding air was torn away. He had grown to the point where he could divide his enemies into two groups: one group was forced back, while the other was pushed closer.

"Their things are all ours," the young man laughed. His laughter echoed on the stone wall like phosphorescence.

Qin Shuang did not answer. She took out a jade slip from her sleeve. A faint blue light flowed in her hand. Her gaze became calmer. She was no longer scheming against her opponent, but controlling time.

In the courtyard, the air seemed to split open. When the black steel blade cleaved down, it stirred up a gust of wind that swept through the entire space. The wind carried dust and the realistic hissing sound of metal.

Zhou Yang's steps glided slowly beneath his feet, as if he were performing a light dance. Each wave of his hand was incomplete, yet he precisely timed each movement. He needed to create distance, but he didn't give up his attack.

Deep within the courtyard, in a corner, some points of light flickered in the darkness. Qin Shuang's gaze locked onto that spot. She realized: it wasn't an ordinary dark room, but a faint array. Something was moving within the array, tiny, like an insect.

The young man gave the order again: "Kill!"

Blade light mingled with icy mist. Qin Shuang's white light was like cold frost. Zhou Yang's figure grew brighter and brighter. He raised his hand, his fingertips lightly touching the stone wall. The exposed skin on his palm gleamed in the lamplight.

"You're all faking your deaths," he said softly. "If you die too quickly, no one can keep up."

The words had barely left her lips when Qin Shuang's icy aura spread. She stomped her foot, and cracks in the ground spread like a spiderweb beyond the bluestone. The longsword in her hand danced along with the cracks, its tip slicing across most of the courtyard.

A cold glint flashed in the center. That was the rhythm between her and Zhou Yang.

The young man was jolted backward by the frost. The guards by the courtyard were stunned. They hadn't expected that the girl who had just been mocking them could now shatter the ground.

"Retreat!" he roared, retreating to the back of the crowd. Although his voice was rough, it betrayed a hint of panic.

"He's testing the waters," Qin Shuang said. She glanced at Zhou Yang, her lips twitching slightly. "Don't give him a chance."

Zhou Yang looked at the young man. He still didn't make a move. He simply lifted his palm from the stone wall. On his palm, fine golden lines lit up, like stars.

"You really think this is North Ridge's biggest move?" he asked softly. "Fine, then I'll ask you: what are you most afraid of?"

The young man's face contorted in pain as he pondered: power, or glory? He gripped the halberd's hilt, his hand trembling. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a rune flickering on the ceiling of the courtyard. The rune glowed faintly, as if waiting to be ignited.

His voice slowed: "Kill...kill him."

Qin Shuang's gaze locked onto the rune, and she suddenly laughed. "Heh, it hasn't really begun yet."

Zhou Yang slowly withdrew his hand. In that instant, the air in the courtyard began to circulate slightly again. The previously suppressed atmosphere regained some space.

The young man from the Azure Rock Guard's eyes twitched wildly. He saw his fingers turning white. He suddenly lowered his body and rushed out.

"Kill the man, take the woman away."

The command rang out once again. Before it even landed, it was already like a nail driven into thin air.

In the shadows of the courtyard, the hidden door quietly opened a crack. A faint, cold light shone through the crack.

Qin Shuang heard it. She sheathed her knife, turned around, and aimed in that direction. Zhou Yang also turned his head, and through the gap, he saw a black mirror.

Zhou Yang nodded slightly, as if gesturing to Qin Shuang. His movements were steady and natural.

The young man from the Azure Rock Guard watched all this, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and understanding. He realized: they were nothing but ants, while the other side had already tested his heartbeat.

"Kill him." He gave the order again.

Qin Shuang raised her hand, frost swirling before her. Her voice was calm and unwavering: "He's not in a hurry. What about you?"

The young man gritted his teeth, and three seconds later, he gave the final command: "Charge!"

Chaos erupted instantly in the courtyard. Several Qingyan Guards, halberds in hand, charged towards Zhou Yang. Qin Shuang and Hei Gang, one in front and one behind, formed two lines of defense.

Zhou Yang shifted slightly backward, leaving a gray shadow beneath his feet. His movements weren't flashy, but they were so precise that no one could keep up. Every step he took was perfectly in sync with his opponent's rhythm.

"You haven't even started yet," he whispered. His voice was soft, but it was like a thread pulling people down.

Zhou Yang stood there, slowly raising his hand. The courtyard floor trembled slightly. Qin Shuang also raised her sword, a flash of silver light.

The lights in the courtyard suddenly dimmed by half.

The young man from the Green Rock Guard gritted his teeth and gave another order: "Kill him!"

At that moment, everyone was forced to bring their attention back to reality. The air still carried the scent of blood. The moment Qin Shuang moved, Bing Shuang immediately rushed forward, coiling around her leg like a snake. Zhou Yang took a step forward, igniting everything.

The light in the courtyard returned. The conflict continued. But the next moment, a muffled thud came from deep within the alley.

Zhou Yang did not respond. He simply stood there, his gaze fixed on the crack. The young man from the Azure Rock Guard immediately realized: he was no longer an enemy. He was a god from the heavens above.

"Kill him!" the young man shouted the order again. His voice was forceful, yet powerless.

These words fell into the courtyard, shaking off the dust and also marking the beginning of a new rhythm.

Preemptive strike

"Kill him!"

The young man's voice echoed in the passageway.

Like a stone thrown into water, creating a chaotic ripple.

Behind him, the Qingyan Guards moved.

There were no unnecessary movements, no shouts.

They simply took a step forward at the same time.

The footsteps were synchronized, as if they were the footsteps of the same person.

The armor rubbed against the plates, producing a soft, cold sound.

Their formation resembled a slowly advancing iron wedge.

The person at the very front is holding a tower shield as tall as a person.

There are no gaps between the shields.

Behind them were spearmen, their spear tips protruding from the gaps in their shields.

A forest, a forest made of steel.

Sunlight streamed down from the courtyard, illuminating their armor.

It reflects a blinding light.

The light flowed like a layer of cold flame.

The air seemed to freeze at that moment.

The exiles could sense it.

It was an overwhelming pressure.

It's not the aura of one person, but the aura of a whole.

A sophisticated, efficient machine designed solely for killing.

"Oh shit……"

An exile muttered to himself. His hands were trembling.

The iron knife in his hand trembled.

The blade was dull and had nicks.

Against that formation, the weapon in my hand is like a stick.

Fear gripped his heart like a vine.

He wanted to back away.

Some people in the line unconsciously shrank back.

"Stop right there!"

Black Steel's roar was like a heavy hammer blow.

It struck a chord in everyone's heart.

His face turned bright red, and the veins on his neck bulged.

"Have you forgotten what Master Zhou taught you? Do you think hiding your head will save your life?"

He stood at the very front, carrying his broadsword, which was as big as a large door panel.

"If you're afraid of dying, get out of here! Don't dirty my eyes!"

Nobody moved.

Get lost? Where can you get lost to?

There was no way out behind them.

Ahead lies a killing formation.

Either way, it's all the same – death.

Black Steel roared and kicked someone who was trying to back away in the butt.

"Pick up your knife! Look ahead!"

"They kill people, so we kill people too!"

"Whoever wants us dead, we'll make them die first!"

What Zhou Yang taught before was very simple.

There are no fancy moves.

Only a few words.

First, don't go it alone. You are a group of people, not a dog.

Second, don't look at the shield bearers, look at the spearmen. The spearmen are the teeth of the formation.

Third, if you're injured, retreat to the back; don't stand there as a target. No one will clean up your mess.

Fourth, don't even think about cutting through their armor; you don't have the strength. Look for their joints, their faces, their necks, and their hands.

A few words, rough, but useful.

These exiles, who had faced death countless times, understood instantly.

They were not warriors.

They were just prisoners trying to survive.

To survive, they can become more ferocious than wild beasts.

Black Steel's roar rekindled the last embers of fire in their hearts.

That bit of resentment, that bit of ruthlessness.

"Fuck him!"

Someone swore.

"Let's fight them!"

"Killing one is enough to break even, killing two is a bonus!"

The exiles' formation gradually stabilized.

It's very rudimentary.

It's just people packed together, all crammed together.

Everyone carried what was convenient for them.

Iron knives, iron rods, and even sharpened stones.

Their eyes changed.

The fear from before is still there, but there's more of a sense of madness now.

A kind of ferocity that is willing to risk everything.

Like a pack of hungry wolves cornered against a wall.

Looking at the armored torrent opposite them, they bared their teeth.

"Form ranks! Prepare for battle!"

Black Steel held his broadsword across his chest and gave a second command.

"Bang!"

Iron against iron, finally collided.

The wall of tower shields slammed into the defenses formed by the exiles' bodies and makeshift weapons.

The exiles at the very front were struck as if by a battering ram.

With a muffled groan, his body flew backward.

The sound of bones breaking was clearly audible.

Blood blossoms exploded in mid-air.

But the people behind immediately filled the empty seats.

Their eyes were bloodshot, they roared, and they thrust and slashed with their weapons.

"what!"

A scream.

They were not exiles, but members of the Qingyan Guard.

A sharpened iron rod was thrust into the underside of a shield and landed precisely on the ankle of a Qingyan Guard.

The soldier stumbled, and his shield tilted slightly.

It's now!

A fellow exile, as if possessed, slashed the other man’s neck with the chipped iron knife in his hand.

"Pfft."

It wasn't cut through.

But the sharp edge still managed to cut through a layer of skin and flesh.

Fresh blood gushed out like a floodgate opening.

The soldier clutched his neck and collapsed.

The spearmen behind him were immediately overwhelmed.

Screams, curses, and the clash of weapons instantly echoed throughout the passage.

The battle has entered its most primitive form of flesh and blood grinding.

The exiles were fearless in the face of death.

They knew they had no skills, so they could only risk their lives.

Injured? As long as you're not dead, keep hacking.

A broken arm? Bite it with your teeth.

Their goal was clear: to execute Zhou Yang's simple instruction—find weaknesses.

One madman after another, like ants, squeezed into the gaps in the armor.

For the first time, the Qingyan Guard's formation became chaotic.

They are so powerful that almost no one can challenge them head-on.

But they were facing a group of desperados who did absolutely nothing by the book.

These desperados had only one thought in their minds.

I'll drag you down with me.

"Hold on! Don't break formation!"

The young leader's voice was calm, but carried a hint of barely perceptible anger.

He hadn't expected that these ragged prisoners would possess such astonishing resilience.

He stood at the back, holding his halberd, without moving.

His gaze, like that of an eagle, swept across the entire battlefield.

He is looking for a leader.

He found it very quickly.

The burly man who had withstood a barrage of attacks with his broadsword.

Black steel.

Black Steel is now covered in blood.

There are enemies, and there are our own.

He stood like a demon god at the very front of the exiles' formation.

His broadsword moved with sweeping, powerful strokes, each swing forcing back several enemies in front of him.

The wind howled, carrying the stench of blood.

But he is also being worn down.

The other side's teamwork was too seamless.

As soon as one person attacks his upper body, someone else immediately attacks his lower body.

One person feigns an attack on the left, but the fatal blow will inevitably come from the right.

Several wounds quickly appeared on Black Steel's body. They weren't deep, but they hurt a lot.

He gritted his teeth and remained silent.

He knew he was the anchor for this line of work.

If he falls, these people will be completely ruined.

"court death!"

Black Steel roared and cleaved a tower shield away with a single strike.

The blade slashed downwards, cutting a deep, bone-revealing wound into the soldier's shoulder.

But he also left himself vulnerable.

A chilling killing intent came from his side and behind.

It was a long spear, like the forked tongue of a venomous snake, aimed straight at his waist.

Black Steel's pupils contracted.

He tried to dodge, but it was too late.

The body's movements couldn't keep up with the speed of the killing move.

It’s over.

The thought flashed through his mind.

Just then.

"Ding!"

A crisp sound.

A cold arrow, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, precisely embedded itself in the shaft of the spear.

The immense force caused the spear to deviate by half an inch.

The spear tip grazed Black Steel's side, leaving a bloody mark.

Black Steel seized the opportunity to turn around and kicked the spearman to the ground.

He glanced, still shaken, in the direction from which the arrow had come.

It's Qin Shuang.

She had somehow retreated into the shadows on one side of the passageway.

He held a small horn bow in his hand, the bowstring still vibrating slightly.

Her face was expressionless, but her eyes were very focused.

Like a gardener pruning flowers and plants, calmly cutting off the excess branches.

"Take care of the one with the bow!"

The young leader finally discovered Qin Shuang.

His eyes turned cold, and he issued a new order.

Immediately, two Qingyan Guards broke away from the main group, wielding short swords, and rushed towards Qin Shuang.

They were incredibly fast and low-slung, like two cheetahs.

Qin Shuang frowned slightly and drew another arrow from her quiver.

too fast.

She had just nocked an arrow when the enemy had already charged in.

A flash of light slashed straight at her face.

Another blade flashed, aiming for her legs.

They attacked from both sides, cutting off all escape routes.

Qin Shuang's eyes showed no sign of panic.

Instead of retreating, she advanced, suddenly lowering her body downwards.

The longbow in his hand was no longer a weapon, but an iron rod.

"Bang!"

He bent down and struck the soldier below precisely on the wrist.

The other person felt the pain and their wrist twisted to the side.

Qin Shuang rolled forward and landed behind another soldier.

The soldier missed with his sword, then turned and tried again.

Qin Shuang had already distanced herself from them.

She nocked an arrow again, but this time, her target was not the soldiers fighting amongst themselves, but the young leader in the rear.

The young leader felt it.

The coldness emanating from that horn bow.

For the first time, a hint of surprise appeared in his eyes.

This woman's skills were surprisingly good.

He had to admit that he had underestimated this group of people.

"Ants, how dare they speak of life and death."

He snorted coldly and refused to stand by any longer.

He moved.

His body was like a fully drawn bow, which sprang out in an instant.

He swung the heavy halberd in his arms with one hand.

Where the halberd passed, the air seemed to be torn apart.

"clang!"

A loud bang.

The broadsword made of black steel was struck hard by the shaft of the halberd.

The immense force caused his tiger's mouth to split open, and blood flowed freely.

The broadsword almost slipped from his hand.

He took three or four steps back before regaining his balance.

The young man from Qingyan Guard was already standing in front of them.

The young man's eyes were calm.

It was as calm as a stagnant pool.

"Your opponent is me."

After the young man finished speaking, he shook his halberd.

The halberd tip, like a cold star, pierced towards the throat of the black steel.

too fast.

Black Steel felt a blur before his eyes.

The shadow of death instantly enveloped him.

He instinctively parried with his sword.

"when!"

Another loud bang.

The halberd's attack was far more devastating than he had imagined.

Moreover, the tip of the halberd carried a strange spiraling force.

The shock made his entire arm go numb.

"flaw."

The young man uttered two words.

With a flick of his wrist, the halberd tip, which had been thrusting straight forward, instantly transformed into a horizontally slashing crescent moon.

A silver arc of light flashed and disappeared in an instant.

Black Steel felt a chill in his chest.

He looked down.

A long gash appeared on his chest.

From the left shoulder, extending all the way to the right abdomen.

It wasn't very deep, but the flesh was torn open, and fresh blood was gushing out.

Blood instantly stained his tattered clothes.

Black Steel staggered and knelt on one knee.

He used his broadsword to brace himself against the ground to keep from falling.

He was breathing heavily, and his vision was blurring.

"Boss!"

The exiles nearby saw this and their eyes widened in fury.

He tried to rush over, but was immediately entangled by two Qingyan Guards.

The entire battlefield began to show signs of collapse due to Black Steel's severe injuries.

The morale of the exiles plummeted like the receding tide.

The Qingyan Guards, on the other hand, grew stronger with each battle.

The efficiency of the killing is getting higher and higher.

One exile after another fell.

Their defenses are being eroded little by little.

Kurogane raised his head and looked at the expressionless young man in front of him.

He wanted to stand up.

He wanted to swing the knife again.

But my body wouldn't obey me.

The force is being gradually drained from the body along with the flowing blood.

The young man raised his foot, preparing to stomp on his head.

Let's put an end to this farce.

Just then.

A hand gently pressed on his ankle.

That hand was very white and clean.

It was completely out of place in this bloody and filthy environment.

The young man stopped moving.

He slowly lowered his head.

Follow that hand.

Zhou Yang had somehow walked up to him.

Zhou Yang didn't even look at him.

His gaze fell on the ever-expanding pool of blood on the ground.

It is the blood of Black Steel.

Then, he looked up at the young man.

His face still held that lazy look.

It was as if all of this had nothing to do with him.

"Your hands are too heavy."

Zhou Yang said softly.

His voice wasn't loud, but it drowned out all the other sounds on the battlefield.

The young man's pupils suddenly contracted.