The charming widow of the Marquis's mansion: The stable boy carries the flag and raises the dra

Yang Tieyi said in a deep voice.

"How about this: we join forces to get rid of these troublesome figures in the Central Region first. I'll help you deal with Zhao Heng and Ling Feng, and after it's done, you'll give me a few flags, how about that?"

He spoke frankly, as if it were a fair trade.

Zhao Heng's eyes turned colder, but he didn't rush to speak.

Ling Feng remained standing atop the hill, a faint smile playing on his lips, as if he had heard an amusing joke.

Wang Long looked at Yang Tieyi, and after a moment, shook his head.

"No need."

Yang Tieyi was taken aback.

"What? You think my price is too high?"

"It's not a matter of whether it's high or low."

Wang Long spoke in a flat tone.

"I've never liked cooperating with others. Since we're all here to grab the flag, let's each rely on our own abilities. You can all come at me together; I don't mind."

After these words were spoken, there was a moment of silence below the hill.

Yang Tieyi's smile slowly faded. He stared at Wang Long for a few moments to make sure the other man wasn't joking, then chuckled.

"Such arrogance."

Zhao Heng also spoke slowly, his voice carrying a hint of coldness.

"Wang Long, you think too highly of yourself."

Ling Feng clapped his hands high on the hill, his tone filled with genuine admiration.

"That's really impressive, but... being too impressive can easily lead to failure."

Wang Long did not answer. He simply raised his hand, and nine golden sword lights flew out from behind him, hovering above his head.

The sword trembled slightly, emitting a clear, melodious hum that was particularly distinct in the morning mist.

"Enough talk, let's attack together."

Yang Tieyi remained silent. He drew his silver spear, the tip tracing an arc in the morning light. His spiritual energy surged like a tide, and his calm yet sharp aura was fully unleashed at that moment.

Zhao Heng also made a move.

A dark gold longsword was held horizontally in front of him, and the spiritual energy patterns flowing on the blade lit up one by one, as if some ancient runes were awakening.

The two attacked Wang Long from the left and right, almost simultaneously!

The silver spear, like a silver dragon emerging from the water, thrust straight at Wang Long's face, its momentum fierce and precise. The dark gold longsword swept horizontally from the side, its blade carrying a heavy spiritual power, blocking Wang Long's retreat.

Although their cooperation was impromptu, it was surprisingly seamless, clearly indicating that they were both extremely experienced opponents.

Wang Long did not retreat.

He shifted his feet slightly, his figure weaving between the clashing of guns and knives, precisely avoiding the sharpest points of the two attacks.

Nine golden sword lights simultaneously dispersed under his mental control. Three were aimed at Yang Tieyi's spear shadow, three were aimed at Zhao Heng's blade, and the remaining three, like hunting hunters, circled around the two, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

Yang Tieyi's spear thrust was blocked by three sword lights. His body paused slightly, then his spear thrust changed, bypassing the sword lights like a nimble snake, and went straight for Wang Long's lower body.

Taking advantage of that brief opening, Zhao Heng turned his blade, changing from a horizontal sweep to a diagonal slash, and brought it down toward Wang Long's left shoulder!

The two launched their attacks in rapid succession, their coordination even more seamless than before, clearly indicating that they had truly entered a state of combat.

Wang Long's expression remained calm. He sensed that although Yang Tieyi's spear technique was sharp, it carried a kind of probing precision, while Zhao Heng's sword technique became increasingly profound, as if it was about to crush his defense little by little.

The pace of their attacks accelerated, and the aftershocks of their spiritual energy collisions tore the surrounding morning mist apart.

Wang Long moved swiftly amidst the dense onslaught, nine sword lights swirling around him like living things, sometimes splitting up to defend themselves, and sometimes merging into a golden shield of light, blocking all the deadly attacks.

Every block and every counterattack was executed with an extremely precise sense of rhythm.

After about thirty or forty breaths, Yang Tieyi's spear technique finally showed a slight stagnation.

No matter how powerful his spiritual energy was, even a continuous burst of high-intensity energy would eventually experience a brief decline. Wang Long captured that moment.

He stomped his foot, creating a shallow crater in the ground, and his body shot forward like a cannonball. The golden light sword in his hand, condensed from spiritual energy, suddenly swelled up, carrying a sharp sword intent, and pierced straight into the gap in Yang Tieyi's defensive circle!

Yang Tieyi's pupils contracted slightly as he parried with his spear, but the impact forced him back several steps, his hand tingling slightly.

Wang Long did not pursue. Instead, he turned around, and his golden lightsaber drew an arc in the air, precisely colliding with the dark gold blade that Zhao Heng had slashed out from the side.

clang!

With a loud bang, golden light and dark golden spiritual energy exploded in the air, like water and fire colliding.

Zhao Heng's sword strike was abruptly cut off. He felt a deep and powerful force coming through the blade, forcing him to take a half step back to regain his balance.

There was a brief moment of silence below the hills.

Yang Tieyi glanced down at his slightly numb tiger's mouth, then looked up at Wang Long. The fighting spirit in his eyes was even stronger than before, but there was also an undisguised seriousness.

He slowly exhaled a breath of stale air and gripped the silver spear tightly again.

"That one... it's definitely something."

Zhao Heng stood beside him, also holding his dark gold longsword horizontally in front of him, his gaze deep and serious. After a moment, he spoke.

"We underestimated him."

The two exchanged a glance, and neither said anything more.

Ling Feng stood atop the hill, taking in the entire scene.

The smile on his face faded slightly, and his hand had somehow found its way to the hilt of the blue longsword at his waist.

His gaze fell on Wang Long, with a more focused scrutiny.

Just as he was about to step down the hill, a light green figure appeared silently in front of him, blocking his way.

Ye Niannu had somehow circled around to the side of the hill and was now standing there, holding a long sword that gleamed coldly in her hand. Her peach blossom eyes were smiling, but her tone was less languid than usual.

"Your opponent is me."

Ling Feng paused for a moment, then a gentle smile returned to his face.

"Alright."

His figure moved, like a gentle breeze sweeping across the hilltop. His cyan longsword was drawn, and the sword light poured down like flowing water, heading straight for Ye Niannu!

Ye Niannu raised her sword to meet the attack. The two swords clashed in mid-air, producing a series of crisp and dense sounds, like pearls falling onto a jade plate, or like some kind of silent rhythm spreading in the air.

The viewing platform was completely silent.

The elder in the dark gold robe who had been holding a teacup in the central viewing area had put it down at some point.

His gaze was fixed on the area on the map surrounded by several points of light, his lips were tightly pressed together, and his face was so solemn that it seemed as if water could drip from it.

The gray-robed old man beside him also had a solemn expression, and his voice was dry and incredulous.

"That Wang Long...fighting two against one?"

The elder in the dark gold robe did not answer, but his silence itself was an admission.

In the southern viewing area, the expressions of the team leaders were equally complex.

Someone whispered something.

The leader of the Western Regions Serpent Bone Sect stared at the rapidly moving dots on the map, his face ashen, but he said nothing more.

In the Eastern Region spectator area, the atmosphere was completely different.

Several team leaders clenched their fists, and some even couldn't help but whisper "Good!" before quickly lowering their voices.

Song Tiange stood at the front of the crowd, his hands behind his back, his gaze fixed on the battlefield. Although his expression remained calm, a closer look would reveal a barely perceptible curve at the corner of his mouth.