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"Mr. Qi, why didn't you give me your 'Self-Preservation' Spirit Language?" Shen Tang almost spat blood. She had memorized that Spirit Language not long ago. It condensed qi into a protective aura, shielding the body! In simple terms, it put a shield on oneself. It was fine for Qi Shan to only shield himself, but this guy actually subtly retreated behind her, leaving her, an eleven or twelve-year-old otaku who couldn't lift a chicken, to face a murderer who had wiped out an entire family! It was outrageous!
Qi Shan calmly said, "I am physically weak and not good at fighting."
Shen Tang: "..." She suddenly remembered her assessment of Qi Shan after reading the Spirit Language scroll last night—"a schemer who fights defensively and ambushes for kills"—now it seemed this assessment was incomplete; she had to add another trait: this guy was also quite adept at backstabbing teammates.
"Even if you're not good at fighting, you're still a young man who's come of age!" Hiding behind her? Was that something a true man would do? With that, she kicked the middle-aged man in the chest. Seeing the man, who hadn't even reacted yet, sent flying half a zhang (approx. 1.6 meters), Qi Shan said, "A young man who has come of age wouldn't kick someone that far either."
Shen Tang: "..."
The middle-aged man fell to the ground clutching his chest, his face filled with shock. He never expected Shen Tang, a slender child, to have such immense strength. He channeled force and slammed his hand on the ground, leaping up with a roar, "If you don't value your lives, then don't blame this old man for being ruthless!" He pulled out a red-glowing woodcutting knife from somewhere. It swung down towards Shen Tang's head!
Thump!
The man's woodcutting knife, imbued with Martial Courage, cut through metal like mud. In a single clash, it cleaved Shen Tang's woodcutting knife in two. Seeing his advantage, he happily swung his knife horizontally with brute force, aiming for Shen Tang's neck. A smile curved his lips; he seemed to envision Shen Tang's head flying off. Who knew she would duck back, avoiding the successive red woodcutting knives, and shift her footwork, each step calm and composed. The middle-aged man had no particular technique or style; all he had was brute force and that glowing red, metal-cutting woodcutting knife. He swung the knife relentlessly, one strike after another. One hit, and it would be death or permanent injury.
Watching the cracks appearing on the ground, Shen Tang's expression slightly hardened. Qi Shan interjected, "Second-rank Shangzao." Still just a second-rank Shangzao with brute force. Shen Tang seized the opportunity to get close, curled her fingers, and channeled strength for a strike at his wrist. The middle-aged man cried out in pain, his woodcutting knife forcibly escaping his grasp. She then seized the opportunity to deliver a fierce kick three inches below his navel. This kick not only hit the man where it hurt but also made Qi Shan instinctively gasp. He covered his face with his sleeve, unable to watch. No man could endure such pain. The middle-aged man was no exception. He cried out, bending over, which played right into Shen Tang's hands. She grabbed his topknot and pulled it down, making him collide with her upward-thrusting knee.
Thump!
Qi Shan instinctively touched his nasal bone. He felt the man's pain just by watching. At this moment, his peripheral vision caught a shadow moving outside the paper window. He chanted without hesitation—
"In the same storm, with the same boat, save us from peril!"
The instant the word "save" (拯) fell, a gray light, with an irresistible momentum, broke through the window, striking at Shen Tang's vital points. Simultaneously with the gray light, an aura of glowing characters suddenly appeared around her. The two clashed, and a shockwave exploded with a boom. Shen Tang had already dodged, looking at the spear blade buried inches into the ground, then looked up at the window—there was still an enemy hiding!
Qi Shan said, "A comrade. He should be a third-rank Zanniao." With his rich experience, he had roughly judged the comrade's strength just from the force of that one shot. But his next sentence was—
"Young lord Shen should be able to handle it."
Shen Tang: "..." The subtext of this was that he still intended to observe from the sidelines.
Unlike the unrefined middle-aged man, this newcomer was clearly a trained fighter. He leaped in to attack, and with a pull of his hand, the long spear embedded in the ground flew into his grasp. His target, however, was not Shen Tang; he feinted and charged directly at Qi Shan. The newcomer was dressed in black, nine feet tall, with a broad back and muscular physique. Just standing there, he exuded immense oppressive power, making the previously spacious room feel narrow and suffocating.
Qi Shan wore an expression of "just as expected." He unhurriedly chanted a single-word Spirit Language. Textual light surged around his feet, and his figure shifted slightly, retreating over a zhang away. The man in black tried to pursue, but Shen Tang, wielding the "Mother's Sword," blocked him, preventing his escape.
Clang!
Spear and sword clashed. Qi Shan flashed to a safer, open area, and slowly added, "When danger is upon me, I shall transfer it to others. Therefore—my danger means others' danger. If others wish to be safe, they must lend aid to resolve my predicament." As the Spirit Language manifested, textual light glowed beneath Shen Tang's feet.
Shen Tang, having heard the Spirit Language clearly: "...???" Blocking the enemy's storm of spear thrusts, she angrily shouted, "Qi Yuanliang! Be a human!" Qi Shan was truly a dog! That Spirit Language, at first glance, seemed fine, but translated, it meant: "If I'm in danger, I'll transfer the danger to others. If I'm in danger, others will be in danger, so that person, wanting safety, has no choice but to help me resolve my danger." It was equivalent to forcibly sharing the danger.
"Young lord Shen, prioritize the big picture," Qi Shan, hearing this, shamelessly chuckled, "As the saying goes—'Literary Heart unbroken, Martial Courage unquenched.' This trained fighter would know this principle. I am frail, and my life is entrusted to young lord Shen."
Shen Tang: "..." Big Brother Qi Yuanliang, do you remember what you said last night: 'Do you think this sword of mine is for decoration or a handy weapon?'After just one night, you're already playing the role of a frail scholar?
Boom!
The roof of the house was torn open, a large hole blasted by the gray light picked up by the sword. This man's strength was surprisingly great, at least much greater than that of the third-rank Zanniao officer. Shen Tang retreated several steps before dispelling the heavy pressure. Looking at her slightly numb tiger's mouth, her expression slightly darkened.
"Qi Yuanliang, are you sure he's a third-rank Zanniao?" Qi Shan was about to say "yes," but then, by the light of the unextinguished oil lamp, he saw the man's thick lips slightly parted, silently mumbling something. Immediately after, his entire aura changed. He instantly danced, unleashing hundreds of spear shadows. The spear shaft coiled around Shen Tang's long sword like a nimble serpent.
Qi Shan carefully distinguished the lip movements.
[A soldier's tactics are not constant, just as water has no constant form...]
This is... Qi Shan instantly understood.
"Be careful! This fellow is a fourth-rank Bugeng!" Almost as soon as the words fell, a slightly illusory black shadow silently appeared in Shen Tang's blind spot, forming a pincer attack with the black-clad man who was already entangled with Shen Tang. The spear wind swept in. Shen Tang, as if having eyes in the back of her head, grabbed a dangling cloth curtain and leaped vertically onto the broken beam, avoiding a spear thrust aimed directly at her heart.
"Holy shit, he can even use clones!" As soon as she stood firm, Qi Shan's voice reached her ear.
He said, "Stars scattered across a chessboard!"
Buzz—
Interweaving characters extended from his feet, looking at first glance like a giant chessboard. As the chessboard appeared, the black-clad man's feet sank. His knees trembled slightly, as if a giant boulder pressed on his shoulders and his legs were stuck in an invisible bog. He roared loudly, and his Martial Aura burst forth, the gray light colliding with the textual light, producing a harsh impact sound. Shen Tang looked at this scene, unsure how to help. This was beyond her comprehension.
Qi Shan saw her concern and said sternly, "Just fight! Leave the rest to me. Catch him alive!" The thresholds for Gongshi and Shangzao were extremely low; any martial artist could achieve them. Third-rank Zanniao was a dividing line. From fourth-rank Bugeng onwards, one could borrow military strategy Spirit Languages. In the army, they could at least be a centurion. If they were willing to join a powerful family as retainers, they wouldn't have to worry about food or drink. Why would they become bandits and resort to robbery and murder for a living?