Mythical Three Kingdoms: Martial Arts Reach Divine Ranks, I Alone Rule the World

East of the city.

The General's Mansion.

General He Jin, returning from a banquet at Yuan Kui's residence, reeking of alcohol, staggered back to his room with the help of his maids.

"What utter nonsense about aristocratic families being superior!"

"Before this great general, even you, Yuan Ciyang, must smile and invite me to take the seat of honor, right?"

In a state between being half-drunk and half-awake.

He Jin recalled the polite manner Yuan Kui, the head of the Yuan family, had shown him at the banquet, and the obsequious manner and humble attitude of Yuan Ji, Yuan Shao, and Yuan Shu, the current members of the Yuan family...

His face was fleshy and rugged, but when he grinned, he exuded smugness.

So what if he came from a butcher family?

Faced with true power, even if your Yuan family is famous throughout the world, you still have to respect He Jin and fear He Suigao!

The more He Jin thought about it, the more comfortable he felt.

Even the maidservant in the manor who was supporting him, whom he would never normally give a second glance to, suddenly seemed quite handsome to He Jin.

"You're staying tonight."

"Make sure you serve this general well and make him feel comfortable!"

"You'll enjoy wealth and honor."

"Now."

"This general has a bit of a temper."

After getting drunk, He Jin suddenly felt a surge of anger.

He broke free from the support of the maids in the mansion, and his bloated hands restlessly reached out to embrace the maids' slender waists.

His other hand.

He then roughly ripped off the maid's skirt, revealing a large expanse of white skin.

"Great General!!!"

The maid was so frightened by He Jin's sudden violence that she turned pale.

She didn't even bother to help He Jin up.

He knelt down, crying, and kept kowtowing to the ground.

"General, you're drunk!"

"Please, please spare me!"

The maid stared in horror at He Jin's obese body, unable to imagine what would happen if that body were to press down on her.

In addition, she was just a servant girl with no cultivation.

If this fat, pig-like general, when drunk, were to act without restraint or restraint...

People really can die.

She served as a maid in the General's mansion.

She had seen many of her sisters die tragically because of the general's drunken and reckless behavior.

"Um?"

"How dare you, a lowly servant, disobey the general's orders?"

"Snapped!"

Looking at the maid kneeling at his feet begging for mercy, He Jin, whose interest had been greatly dampened, immediately became furious and slapped the maid across the face, still not satisfied.

You also need to lift one foot.

He kicked the ignorant maidservant directly at her.

In his rage, He Jin's kick was even enveloped in a blood-red aura...

If it is implemented.

The fate of the maid was predictable.

"Ugh!"

A sigh came from inside the house.

"Even if a monkey wears a crown, it is still a monkey; even if a butcher becomes a general, he is still a vulgar, low-class person."

"Someone who can't even control the guys down there..."

"He actually commands all the armies in the land."

"I don't know if it's the complete decline of the imperial court, or the tragedy of the people of this world."

The sudden sound from inside the room startled He Jin.

But then...

His expression changed drastically, and he sobered up considerably.

Because He Jin sensed it.

No matter how much force he exerted or how much he channeled the dragon-like blood energy within his body, the leg he raised remained unmoved...

They could never fall behind.

"Someone come here!"

"Guards! Assassins! Assassins!"

He Jin reacted quickly.

Realizing someone had broken into the house, he immediately shouted for help.

They were trying to attract the attention of the soldiers in the general's mansion.

Although he himself only possessed the martial arts cultivation of the Gathering Qi Realm, his residence had gathered a group of skilled individuals.

Among them are many who can fight against those at the Martial Phase Realm.

however.

What made He Jin despair was...

Even though he shouted until his voice was almost hoarse...

For a long time afterward, no one pushed open the door and rushed in to save him.

"What's wrong?"

"Not going to keep shouting?"

"Actually, you could shout until dawn!"

The mocking laughter filled He Jin with increasing apprehension.

"I wonder which master of literature has graced this place with their presence. I have no idea where I have offended you, that you have personally come here."

Even if you can't see the person speaking.

He Jin was still able to determine whether the newcomer was a Martial Realm expert or a Grandmaster Realm master.

Only those masters of literature and Taoism can achieve this.

Only by using literary means can one isolate a piece of heaven and earth, and seal off a space, preventing his cries for help from reaching the outside world.

He Jin was met with silence.

"Pfft!"

Blood splattered everywhere, staining He Jin's clothes red.

next moment.

He Jin felt a piercing pain.

He looked toward the spot of pain.

Surprisingly, blood was gushing from below his abdomen.

"Aww!"

A bloodcurdling scream, like a pig being slaughtered, rang out.

Having come from a butcher's background, how could he not recognize what the sausage mixed with blood that had suddenly fallen to the ground was?

That was his most precious treasure, his life's most precious possession.

As for the maids kneeling on the ground, they were even more straightforward.

Upon seeing the blood everywhere, her eyes rolled back, she tilted her head back, and fainted.

in the dark.

Zhang Mu, who concealed his true nature with his refined demeanor, glanced at the terrified maid and his lips twitched.

He's just letting innocent bystanders suffer the consequences.

Looking up at He Jin, Zhang Mu never felt that his methods were cruel.

Since He Jin became the Grand General, he has harmed quite a few women, and driven many respectable women to their deaths.

The women's families, fearing He Jin's power, had no choice but to swallow their bitter pill in silence.

Zhang Mu was not afraid of this man.

The reason he concealed his actions against He Jin was simply to avoid a direct conflict with the imperial court.

Just like Situ Yuanwei, who was mocked by He Jin after getting drunk.

He Jin was just a butcher; what was he compared to the Yuan family, which had produced four generations of high-ranking officials?

What the Yuan family truly fears.

It was the imperial court represented by the high-ranking general He Jin.

As long as Zhang Mu conceals his presence.

Even if someone later has extraordinary connections and manages to trace it back to him...

As the general of Yanmen, he was able to maintain a relatively respectable relationship with the imperial court, wasn't he?

Zhang Mu didn't believe the imperial court would fight to the death with a border general of unparalleled strength just for a butcher like He who rose to power through his sister's favor.

unless……

Zhang Mu looked up at the roof.

His gaze pierced through the rooftops, looking at the thirty-six garrison towers of the General's Mansion, which had yet to notice anything amiss.

Unless the imperial court is mentally prepared for the loss of most of the owners of these town generals' towers.

Slaughter half of the people in the town's tower.

That's all the strength they have.

Zhang Mu believed that he still had what it took to unleash his full power.

"what?"

"Did anyone actually notice?"

Zhang Mu, whose divine sense was extending outward, suddenly noticed a figure rushing towards He Jin's room in the backyard of the General's Mansion.

After a moment's thought.

Zhang Mu's body was filled with a surge of literary energy, and a shadowy figure emerged in his mind.

"The newcomer seems to be a sword cultivator like Imperial Tutor Wang Yue. Go and stop him."

Zhang Mu spoke in a relaxed tone, showing no sign of panic.

but.

Amidst his screams and excruciating pain, He Jin suddenly saw a white-clad swordsman appear before him.

The swordsman's long, white robe billowed as the sword energy emanated from him, the hem of which remained untouched by the dust of the mortal world.

The patterns etched on the white robe exude a sense of frost and sword energy, as well as the fragrance of ink and paper.

Vague and ethereal.

Just like the swordsman's true face that He Jin couldn't see clearly.

Almost without roots or traces.

He was neither like a mortal nor like a banished sword immortal from the mortal world.

and so……

The one who attacked me tonight was a literary master with profound swordsmanship.

Or is it...?

He was simply a sword master from the Mohist school who stood up for justice.

He Jin suppressed his pain and used the last bit of reason in his mind to try his best to deduce the identity of the person behind the scenes.

Before he could figure it out...

He Jin then saw the white-clad swordsman transform into countless sword intents, splitting into thousands of sword lights that rushed out of the room.

In the backyard.

The black-clad swordsman, who was rushing towards them with his sword, suddenly stopped, staring intently at a spot ten steps ahead as if facing a formidable enemy.

there.

Thousands of sword lights landed and solidified.

Not long after.

A white-clad swordsman appeared, his hands behind his back.

At the swordsman's waist.

A three-foot-long green sword hangs silently.

The sword was hidden in the hazy night, its blade not flashing with a cold, murderous light.

but.

The black-clad swordsman who stopped felt a profound and ancient sword intent emanating from within the sword.

The scabbard is covered with layers of blue lotus cloud patterns.

Bathed in moonlight, it shimmered with a faint, clear moonlight.

What horrified the black-clad swordsman most was:

The white-clad swordsman was clearly facing away from him...

There is no sign of him holding a sword!

No sign of charging up power!

He simply stood there casually, yet he possessed an unparalleled aura of "a sword at his waist, capable of cleaving heaven and earth."

And this kind of spirit...

The black-clad swordsman asked himself a question.

He had only truly experienced this with his master, Wang Yue.

The black-clad swordsman dared not make a move.

He even had a premonition.

If he takes even the slightest step forward...

Within ten steps, there is no chance of survival.

Even if his master Wang Yue were to come in person, he couldn't save him from this distance.

"Is it just my imagination?"

The black-clad swordsman murmured, trying to suppress this inexplicable premonition.

but.

Just then.

He heard a sound in his ear.

"Don't move!"

"Move, or die!"