King of Hundred Victories Saber

The long saber at his waist was adorned with intricately crafted patterns, exuding the charm of time’s sedimentation, whispering tales of bygone sword glints and shadows. Changwei strode steadily, step by step toward the Hake Tribe at the checkpoint, each step firm and powerful, as the dust beneath his feet slightly rose with his tread, displaying the poised demeanor of a seasoned Escort Master.

However, Li Yuanbo and his brothers from the Hake Tribe looked on with eyes full of disdain, as if viewing a group of insignificant ants.

Li Yuanbo’s lips curved into a twisted, menacing smile, like a malevolent ghost crawling from the depths of the Nine Nether Hell, emanating a chilling aura: ”Brothers, go! These Central Plains people, audaciously trying to traverse the Salt Road without paying the salt tax, today they must learn the might of our Hake Tribe! We must make them understand that the Salt Road is not a place for their unruly antics! If anyone dares resist, kill without mercy!” His voice was sharp and fierce, howling in the gale like a Life-Ending Talisman.

As his words fell, a group of soldiers, fierce as wolves and tigers, surged toward Changwei and his men like crashing tides.

The weapons in their hands glinted with cold, eerie light under the dim sky, and the shouts of killing were earsplitting, as if the earth and sky were being torn apart, instantly plunging the entire Salt Road into a calamity.

Upon witnessing this, anger flared in Changwei’s heart, akin to a volcano long dormant and now on the verge of eruption. The flames of rage fiercely burned within his chest. He drew his saber swiftly, the motion as rapid as lightning.

The saber glinted, like a lightning bolt slicing through the night sky, illuminating the dim Salt Road in an instant.

He shouted loudly, ”Brothers, fight alongside! As Escort Masters, we safeguard the peace of this journey, and we must not allow these barbarians to prevail! Today we will show them that the heroes of Central Plains Martial Arts are not to be trifled with! Life and death hinge on this battle, and in such an encounter, the brave triumph!”

His voice, as resonant as a bell, echoed in the gale, stirring the hot blood in the hearts of everyone present.

With that, Changwei executed the ”Qimen Sancai Saber Technique,” his signature skill honed over years of traversing the Jianghu.

His agility and swiftness were akin to a leopard moving freely through the mountains, each action radiating the beauty of power and speed.

His swordsmanship was exquisite and unmatched, each slash accompanied by the whooshing sound of wind, which was exceptionally sharp as if capable of cleaving the biting cold wind in two. The glinting saber moved like silver crescents, drawing fatal arcs in the air.

A group of Escort Masters also unsheathed their weapons, fighting alongside Changwei.

Some wielded long spears with shimmering tips; others brandished Dual Blades, dancing them through the air.

Their figures seemed increasingly resolute in the fierce wind, closely coordinating to form an unbreakable wall, staunchly defending their dignity and mission, safeguarding the Escort Vehicle, and preserving the honor of Central Plains Martial Arts.

The gale continued to ravage the Salt Road, like a never-tiring vicious beast, roaring in bursts.

The stench of blood thickened in the air, increasingly intense, like a heavy haze, weighing down on the hearts of everyone.

Meanwhile, Li Yuanbo and his three brothers appeared like four Demon Gods emerging from the deepest pit of Hell, radiating a terrifyingly evil aura.

Each held weapons in both hands, one gripping the Serrated Golden Saber, its teeth gleaming with a chilling light under the dim sky like a row of menacing fangs ready to tear enemy flesh; the other held a sharp black sword, its blade resembling a bottomless dark pool, hidden with endless killing intent. They performed the bizarre ”Yin Yang Chaos Blade Technique,” a peculiar and elusive martial art secret to the Hake Tribe, where saber skills and swordsmanship combined, blending hardness with softness, yin with yang, fantastically unpredictable, overwhelming and mesmerizing.

Whenever their chaotic blade and sword technique confronted enemies, the black sword, initially gentle like water, was now infused with the fury of an Ancient Demon God, hacking and chopping with mountain-splitting rock-breaking force, rapidly transforming into an extremely fierce blade technique, each strike causing the air to tremble; while the golden saber changed its usual form, stabbing, flicking, slicing, all following the nimble path of a single sword, saber turned to sword, sword turned to saber, its changes unpredictable and elusive.

The intertwining glints of sabers and swords were like lightning interwoven in the night sky, instilling fear.

As the two sides clashed, the situation shifted like a storm, turning dire for Changwei and his men in mere moments. Within three moves, Li Yuanbo, Li Yebu, Li Shenbo, and Li Zhibo’s brothers closed in on Old Leader Changwei with their eerily bizarre blade and sword techniques, moving with ghostly speed.

Changwei found cold glimmers flashing before him, like clusters of icy flames, before he could effectively defend, a sharp pain surged through his arm, akin to thousands of steel needles piercing simultaneously.

He groaned, the sound low and suppressed, as though struck by a heavy hammer into the depths of his soul. Blood gushed from his arm, with crimson blood instantly staining his sleeve, glaringly conspicuous in the cold wind like a blood flower blooming in winter.

Immediately after, the four advanced, weapons gleaming with chilling light, hacking ferociously like ravenous wolves towards the Escort Masters.

In a flash, desperate screams echoed, the sound harrowing and despairing, like the cries of ghosts and the howls of wolves, unending.