"Seems like the boy has some strength," said one of the bandits in the far back after hearing Long Huang's words of provocation.
"Let us show him that we don't fight fair," the bandit said with an evil grin.
"Yes," said the others as they closed in on Long Huang.
Seeing the bandits approach, Long Huang smiled as his battle intent began to rise.
"It's your funeral."
"Don't get cocky, boy!" one bandit warned.
Just then, the caravan leader exclaimed, "Young hero Zhao, aren't you going to help Young Master Long fight the bandits?"
"Why should I help that waste? He caused this mess by rushing in like a fool without a plan," Zhao Gun replied arrogantly.
"But still..."
"Enough until he begs for my help, then I will step in," said Zhao Gun as he cut off the caravan leader.
As the bandits closed in, Long Huang's calm smile morphed into a focused glare, his eyes narrowing with a fiery intensity.
The surrounding atmosphere crackled with energy, the kind of energy that sent shivers down the spines of even the most hardened criminals.
He could feel the doubt filtering through the ranks of the bandits, but their leader's jeering words struck a nerve.
"Don't be scared, brothers," the leader called out, waving his sword like a toy.
"He's just one kid who barely came out of his mother's womb!"
"Hahaha, you're right"
"Maybe his whore mother doesn't want him since she allowed him to come to such a dangerous place alone," said the leader.
The mockery hung in the air like a heavy fog, but for Long Huang, it felt like a slap. The taunt ignited something fierce within him, a whirlwind of emotions he thought he had buried long ago.
Memories of abandonment, loneliness, and a desperate longing for acceptance surged to the forefront of his mind, fueling his rage.
With a fierce snarl, he unleashed his battle intent like a tidal wave, the very ground beneath him trembling in response.
"How dare you speak of my mother!"
Long Huang roared, his voice echoing with the weight of his pain and fury. The bandits faltered, momentarily taken aback by the ferocity that radiated from this figure that looked like he was a boy toy for rich women's pleasure.
"I'm going to make you swallow those words."
Long Huang dropped his sword and sprang into action, the pain of his past morphing into a lethal weapon as he charged forward. He moved with a primal grace, a blur of motion that took the bandits by surprise.
With each strike, he poured every ounce of his anguish into his fists, each blow carrying the weight of his unresolved feelings. He dodged and weaved through their ranks, a whirlwind of focused ferocity.
One bandit swung a crude axe, believing he could intimidate the boy. Long Huang sidestepped effortlessly, countering with a quick jab to the gut that sent the man crashing to the ground, gasping for breath.
"It's going to take far more than that to even touch me!" he hissed through gritted teeth.
The leader's bravado began to falter as he witnessed his men falling like dominoes around him. The palpable energy radiating from Long Huang was intoxicating, dark, and vibrant.
"What are you waiting for? You cowards attack!!!!"
The leader shouted, desperation seeping into his tone as he attempted to rally his men. But Long Huang was relentless, the roar of his blood thrumming in his ears, drowning out the bandit's rallying cries.
The fight was embarrassingly swift. Zhao Gun barely had time to unsheathe his fancy sword before Long Huang moved. He was a whirlwind of controlled violence, disposing of the bandits with well-placed kicks, sharp jabs, and a dismissive flick of his wrist. One particularly unfortunate thug found himself hoisted and dangling from a tree branch, his own belt looped cruelly around his ankles.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Every blow Long Huang landed was fueled by a raw, desperate need to prove himself, to show he was more than just a boy abandoned to the whims of fate. It all culminated in a final, powerful strike that sent the leader sprawling to the ground.
Long Huang stepped forward and placed a foot on the man's chest, pinning him down. He stood there breathing heavily, his eyes ablaze with a terrifying determination.
"I am not a mere child," he declared, his voice steady despite the storm raging within him.
"I am someone you will never forget."
The leader's eyes widened in pure terror. In that moment, he felt a fear more true than any he had ever known.
As the last of the bandits fled or lay groaning, a stunned silence fell over the clearing, broken only by the quiet sobs of relief from the merchants. Long Huang walked over to where his simple sword lay, picking it up and sheathing it. As he brushed the dust off his robes.
"Teamwork," he declared, his tone dry as he cast a sidelong glance at Zhao Gun, who was still standing with his ornate blade half-drawn, looking utterly superfluous.
Zhao Gun, who had been reduced to little more than a glorified spectator, looked as though he had swallowed a lemon whole.
Long Huang clapped him on the shoulder. "See? Easy as stealing candy from a baby."
Zhao Gun jerked away, his face a storm of indignation. "You—!"
At that moment, the caravan leader rushed forward, bowing so low his forehead nearly scraped the dirt.
"Young masters!" the man cried, tears of gratitude and fear mingling in his eyes. "How can we ever repay you?"
But before either could respond, the air grew heavy. The wind died down. Even the ravens perched in the trees fell silent. A man emerged from the shadows. Tall and clad in dark robes with an axe in hand, his aura so dense that it made the ground tremble beneath their feet.
The caravan leader paled. "Oh no…" he whispered. "The Bandit King."
Zhao Gun's expression shifted from arrogant to concerned in the blink of an eye.
"Peak Blood Tempering Realm, the information was false," he hissed, fingers tightening around his sword. Meanwhile, Long Huang's grin only widened.
"Ah," he said, cracking his knuckles.
"Now it's getting interesting."
Meanwhile, Zhao Gun's face was drained of color as the aura of the Bandit King pressed down on them like an oppressive mountain, heavy and threatening.
"We're outmatched..." he muttered, his fingers trembling around the hilt of his sword, knuckles white with anxiety.
"Oh, stop being such a wuss, would you, Zhao Gun."
Long Huang scoffed, rolling his eyes with exaggerated annoyance. He cracked his knuckles with an expression of anticipation and joy. The sound echoed in the silence of the pass.
"You don't understand. We don't stand a chance."
"Honestly, for someone who brags so much, you fold faster than a cheap fan," said Long Huang.
Zhao Gun's frustration simmered; his eyes blazed with fury, the urge to curse Long Huang's entire lineage bubbling just beneath the surface.
Just then, the Bandit King's voice boomed across the rocky pass, slicing through the tension like a knife.
"WHO DID THIS TO MY MEN?!!!"
The bandit dangling from a gnarled tree limb by his belt whimpered, trembling in fear, and pointed a quivering finger.
"It was the pretty boy, Boss!"
The Bandit King's gaze, cold and filled with rage, locked onto Long Huang with an intensity that could ignite steel. His lips peeled back in a snarl, teeth bared like a feral beast.
"Boy, you're going to regret what you did."
Long Huang merely yawned, a dismissive gesture that downplayed the gravity of their situation.
"Oh? And how exactly are you going to make me regret anything?" His tone dripped with sarcasm.
"First, I'll break your arms," the Bandit King growled, cracking his massive knuckles with a sound like thunder. "Then your legs. Then I'll.."
"Ugh! Spare me the villain speech," Long Huang interrupted, waving a hand dismissively as one would shoo away an annoying fly.
"We get it. You're big, scary, and compensating for something. Can we skip to the part where I humiliate you?"
The Bandit King's eyes twitched, with even more rage and confusion battling for dominance on his face.
"Boy, didn't your parents teach you any manners? It's rude to interrupt an adult."
A heavy silence fell, thick and stifling. Long Huang's smirk vanished in an instant, the wind in the pass seemed to stop blowing, and it went still, as if waiting to be allowed to breathe. While beneath his robe, the tattoos of the blades of slaughter began to glow a faint red, the killing intent fogging Long Huang's mind.
"What!. All that talk and nothing to say?"
"Are you afraid of me, boy?" The Bandit King's smug smile widened, reveling in the moment.
Then
"Parents!, parents, parents!" Long Huang's voice dropped to a whisper, raw and jagged, slicing through the air.
"You want to talk about parents?"
Zhao Gun stiffened, his heart racing. He'd never heard that tone before. It was laced with something deeper than bravado; it was dangerous.
The Bandit King blinked once — just once, before the chaos that was Long Huang's rage erupted. The Bandit King swung his massive axe high over his head, instinctively blocking Long Huang's attack.
"DIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEE"
Long Huang roared as he unleashed his full fury upon the Bandit King. His furious roar echoed through the stronghold like that of an angry god. The air crackled with tension as the ground beneath their feet began to crack from the attack.