A family of loyal martyrs, starting with nine wives to continue the family line.

Wei Zhao stared at the three Zhang Yans on the high platform, not putting away his gun, but instead moving it forward another half inch.

It's not an illusion.

He dismissed the idea at first glance.

All three of them were able to stand, breathe, and raise their hands in the wind.

When that volley of crossbow bolts just flew, the one on the left dodged to the side, the one on the right raised his sleeve to deflect the arrows, and the one in the middle didn't even blink.

really interesting.

He felt reassured.

If all he did was pretend to be a ghost, he could laugh it off; but if three people had actually practiced to this level, then the Holy Flame Sect's current predicament couldn't have been won by deception alone.

"His Majesty."

Zhao Qiniang called him softly, her throat a little tight.

"These three are not right."

"I saw it."

Wei Zhao didn't turn around; his spear was held horizontally in front of him, and his gaze didn't waver an inch.

"They're all good at pretending."

No sooner had he finished speaking than Zhang Yan, the one on the left, made his move.

He was a bit fat and heavy, but his feet were fast. He pressed forward with a short halberd, flipped his wrist, first knocked aside two long spears of the Imperial Guards, and then pressed towards Wei Zhao's flank.

The one on the right is thinner and more insidious, unleashing a barrage of hidden weapons from his sleeves, specifically targeting the horse's eye and the throat.

The one in the middle is the most stable; the copper bell doesn't ring, yet its aura is the most intimidating. Standing on the high platform, it looks like it's watching its prey.

Wei Zhao's eyelid twitched.

These three people are not just similar in appearance.

Their training methods were all identical, as if they had been cut from the same mold.

But upon closer inspection, they are not entirely the same.

The one on the left has broader shoulders and a heavier stance, as if he ate a lot from a young age and practiced hard skills.

The one on the right has long, slender fingers and moves quickly, clearly indicating agility.

The one in the middle was the heaviest. When he stood there, his back and waist didn't move at all, as if he was the one who knew how to hold his head back the best among the three.

He suddenly understood something.

It's not an illusion.

are people.

"Liu Jingshuang!"

He gave a shout, and the cavalry in front immediately turned.

"Don't chase the one in the middle, bite the left and right ones first!"

Liu Jingshuang cleaved a red-eyed assassin in the chaos of battle with a single stroke, and upon hearing these words, her eyes flickered.

"You figured it out?"

"Like triplets."

Wei Zhao smirked and thrust his spear forward, knocking away one of the altar members who rushed at him.

"They're quite the players."

His anger suddenly turned into a cold laugh.

Ok.

They pretended to be gods, wise teachers, and celestial beings; in the end, it turned out to be just the three brothers taking turns.

One stood in front speaking, while the other hid behind changing clothes; one played the role of a powerful figure, while the other played the role of a miracle.

The people were so frightened by them that they naturally believed them.

The soldiers were naturally panicked after being put on such a show.

No matter how sophisticated the deception, there has to be a limit.

The bottom line is people.

"Zhao Qiniang," Wei Zhao called again.

"Your subject is here!"

"Look at the one in the middle, don't let him get away. The fat one on the left has the heaviest moves, he definitely won't last long. The skinny one on the right loves to use dirty tricks, chop off his hand first."

Zhao Qiniang gritted her teeth and agreed.

"clear!"

She spurred her horse and turned, charging straight to the right.

Before she could fully break free, Wei Zhao took the initiative.

He spurred his horse, his white clothes stained with blood, and thrust his spear straight out, the spear thrusting without any fancy moves, aiming directly at Zhang Yan's chest on the left.

The opponent swung his short halberd horizontally, forcefully blocking the impact. The immense force of the impact even forced the horse's head to the side.

Wei Zhao's wrist twitched, but his mind became even more at ease.

He is very strong.

The moves were very solid.

This is not a fancy skill that a street performer can master.

But that's how it is.

"Come."

He uttered a single word in a low voice, then with a flick of his spear, the tip of which struck three times in the air, forcing his opponent to take a step back.

Zhang Yan, the one on the left, frowned and swung his short halberd, aiming straight for Wei Zhao's shoulder and neck.

Wei Zhao didn't dodge. Instead, he deflected the halberd blade half a foot off course, and the spear tip struck him squarely in the ribs.

The man groaned and staggered backward.

Wei Zhao instantly understood.

This person's self-defense skills are not bad, but they are not the most profound.

Just as he was about to give chase again, the thin Zhang Yan on his right pounced from behind, a flash of cold light from his sleeve, and three thin needles went straight for the back of his neck.

Wei Zhao didn't turn around. He pressed the spear shaft back, knocking the three needles away. He then twisted his body to the side and swept the spear horizontally.

"roll."

The man on the right lightly touched the ground with his toes, and floated back two zhang (approximately 6.6 meters). He was still laughing when he landed, and his laughter was sinister.

When Wei Zhao saw that smile, his heart grew even colder.

wrong.

The one on the right has such lively eyes.

The guy on the left who was hit by him earlier is now just furious.

The one in the middle has always been as stable as a rock.

But the one on the right, while smiling, seemed a little scared and anxious.

He wasn't the heaviest, nor was he the most capable of carrying anything.

He's the one who can run.

Having spent so many years on the battlefield, Wei Zhao had seen this kind of look far too often.

A person who is truly dedicated to their work wouldn't have such a fake smile.

"Of the three of you, which one is the real Zhang Yan?"

He suddenly spoke.

This sentence wasn't loud, but when it got out in the chaos of battle, it still surprised many people.

The man in the middle of the platform finally changed his expression.

But it was quickly pushed back down.

"Emperor Xinwu, even on the verge of death, still wants to spout nonsense?"

Upon hearing this voice, Wei Zhao immediately smiled to himself.

Not bad.

The voice is similar too.

But that brief pause just now was enough.

He guessed right.

The one in the middle is the most pretentious.

Or at least, he's the one out of the three who most resembles a "wise teacher."

Stop my ass.

Wei Zhao was too lazy to play along with him. With a flick of his spear, he charged straight into the formation.

"Today I'll see just how long the three of you can hold out."

He knocked down two cult members who rushed at him with a single shot and headed straight for the high platform.

The fat Zhang Yan on the left immediately stepped up, his short halberd whistling through the air, while the thin one on the right also joined in. The three of them, one in front, one on the side, and one behind, coordinated extremely fiercely.

Wei Zhao then truly found it interesting.

The triplets are so in sync, they're really a handful.

The left side is the main attacking position, the right side is used for surprise attacks, and the middle provides cover.

As soon as one of them speaks, the other two immediately fill in.

No wonder they managed to turn the Holy Fire Cult into what it is today.

Ordinary thieves wouldn't know this.

It's not difficult for one person to pretend to be a god, but when three people take turns pretending, taking turns to appear and relay messages, they can really make the ignorant masses run wild.

Unfortunately, they encountered Wei Zhao.

He hates people who make a living by deceiving others the most.

What's even more annoying is that this scam can actually kill people.

"Liu Jingshuang!"

Wei Zhao suddenly thrust his spear through the shoulder of the man on the left, forcing him to take a half step back.

"Force the one on the right out for me!"

Liu Jingshuang sliced ​​a small black and red flag in half with a single stroke, then looked up and saw Wei Zhao's spear stance, immediately understanding what was going on.

Instead of charging straight at the high platform, she slashed diagonally, her blade flashing, forcing the skinny Zhang Yan on the right to change his moves repeatedly.

In his haste, the man's steps faltered for a moment, and he flung out a handful of fine needles from his sleeve.

This was the moment Wei Zhao had been waiting for.

"So you're most afraid of getting close to people."

He sneered, and his spear suddenly rose from the ground, the tip of which directly lifted the other man's sleeve.

The man felt a sharp pain in his wrist, his hidden weapons scattered all over the ground, and his expression changed.

Wei Zhao saw it clearly.

This person is the thinnest one.

His aura was also the most unstable; he had relied entirely on his agility to withstand those underhanded attacks. Once he was cornered, his true colors were revealed.

it is good.

The one in the middle that's left isn't far off.

On the high platform, the one who was truly the most composed finally broke his silence. He stared at Wei Zhao, his gaze as if he had finally been cornered.

"You noticed?"

Wei Zhao slammed the gun barrel to the ground, and blood dripped down the butt of the gun.

"You guys are good at pretending."

He looked up, and a mocking smile finally appeared on his lips.

"It's a pity that the Holy Fire Cult's Master of Peace is actually a set of triplets."

After that sentence was uttered, there was a moment of silence around them.

Wei Zhao didn't stop; his voice was very cold.

"So all your tricks are just charlatans trying to deceive people."

"The wind is borrowed, the bells are borrowed, the flag is borrowed, even this face is borrowed."

His eyes swept over the three people on the platform, and his fingers tightened.

"The Holy Fire Cult ends here."