What ruthless measures! Or perhaps Jun Moxie’s actions could no longer be described as merely "ruthless"—they were utterly poisonous slaughter! Any single one of those attacks would have been lethal, yet this great killer unleashed dozens of such venomous blows in rapid succession! The reason was simple: the roadblock before him was a master of the Yu Xuan realm. If he couldn't break through in one swift burst, he might escape using the "Yin Yang Evasion," but of his eight guards behind him, perhaps not a single one would survive! "Better a fellow daoist dies than I!" Your death is preferable to ours! Therefore, you must die! Jun Moxie knew his current cultivation was still shallow, so he harbored no illusions of shattering the enemy's Xuan Qi defenses and killing him with a single strike. Thus, his attacks descended like a torrential downpour from the heavens, ceaseless once begun! If the Yu Xuan master died tragically, the blame could only be laid at the feet of his high cultivation—had anyone seen the previous six assassins die without suffering?

While launching this deadly barrage, Jun Mo’ou maintained his high-speed forward momentum without the slightest pause. The body of the Yu Xuan assassin seemed tethered to Jun Moxie’s own, dragged along as he sprinted, the attacks continuing relentlessly mid-run! Poisonous! The body of the Yu Xuan master, who just moments before had been an unyielding barrier, suddenly tore apart with grotesque unnaturalness under Jun Mo’bang’s assault. Limbs separated, flying toward four different directions, while the head smashed down with a thud—like a rubber ball violently stomped upon—propelled by suppressed kinetic force, tumbling high into the air. The torso at the center had been reduced to scattered pulp and shattered bone! Jun Moxie, with his eight guards, sped through the rain of gore. Throughout the entire passage, their speed did not falter by a single fraction! The assassins chasing behind clearly saw: This demonic figure brutally carved a massive hole through their leader’s body and shot through as if passing through tissue paper! Jun Moxie’s body instantly reoriented itself. The gleaming, cold long-sword was still affixed to him; however, with the change in posture, it now lay horizontally across his chest. Clinging to the hilt were five fingers, still attached to half a wrist, veins bulging as they gripped the sword with unyielding resolve—testament to the weapon’s owner’s absolute determination to kill the enemy! The nine of them, seizing the moment, managed to narrowly slip past the street corner! On the distant main road, several streaks of vibrant, multi-hued Xuan Qi lights sped rapidly through the rain—it was the Jun family’s reinforcements arriving.

"Xiao Qi!..." Li Zhiwu, the leader of the pursuing black-clothed assassins, staggered to a halt in the pouring rain as if struck by lightning. The head that had soared into the sky fell back down with a thump, landing right at his feet. It rolled twice, settling face-up. The expression frozen on the sightless face was one of ferocious, triumphant glee, about to succeed—yet he had died instantly before even managing to shift the expression on his face! Brothers who had faced death side-by-side for years, sharing life and hardship, were reduced before his eyes to a puddle of gore! Not merely separated head from body, but shredded more violently than death by a thousand cuts! There wasn't even the slender hope of gathering the pieces into one recognizable corpse! What kind of sensation was this?

The black-clothed assassin leader felt his heart bleed.

Only a few days prior, Xiao Qi had been boasting about how clever his young son was, how virtuous and kind his wife, and dreaming of retiring once the Young Miss’s great revenge was complete—to abandon all worldly affairs and dedicate himself to a simple life with his wife and child: gardening, tending flowers—what blissful freedom that would be.

He remembered the undisguised yearning in Xiao Qi’s eyes when he spoke those words, and the deep weariness he felt for this life of licking the blade’s edge! Just moments ago, he stood beside him, taking his orders to block this contingent of Jun family guards! And now, he lay before him, brutally murdered! All because of one command from him. "Who are you? Dare to leave your name!" Li Zhiwu, clad in black, cloaked in black, and masked with black cloth, stood roaring in the torrential downpour, his voice like the screech of an old ape in the night—piercingly mournful! "Who are you...?"

Flashes of lightning crisscrossed the sky, followed by continuous, rolling thunder, pealing like heavy, forceful drumbeats on a battlefield—oppressive and bloody! The Young Master Jun snorted coldly: "And who are you? Dare to leave your name!" With the Jun family reinforcements now present, the situation had reversed. If he could, at this moment when the leader was distraught over the loss of his trusted subordinate, discern the enemy's identity, it would be ideal! Li Zhiwu hissed hatefully, "I am... you damned traitor, you dare not give your name?" He had managed, at the very last second, to pull back from the brink, avoiding revealing his own identity.

The front remained silent; no one answered, only the sound of the Jun family’s relief teams swarming in from all directions.

"Retreat!" A cool voice cut through the air. The black-clothed young woman’s attire was completely soaked, her long hair plastered to her cheeks. Her icy eyes flickered with pain and disappointment, yet her command to withdraw was decisive and absolute.

Li Zhiwu snapped back to reality. One of the men beside him bent down to pick up Xiao Qi's head, the other helped lift him, intending to leave. A strange noise erupted from his throat, as if his very soul had cracked; he abruptly wrenched free, snatched Xiao Qi’s head into his own embrace, and cast one last, long look toward the Jun family members arriving in the distance and the scattering figures of Jun Moxie’s guards. In his eyes burned hatred as vast as a mountain, resentment as deep as the sea! Without a word, he turned and departed.

Xiao Qi, Brother will take you home! Two streams of desolate, turbid tears mingled silently with the rainwater and vanished.

"Go!" The black-clothed assassins had no time to retrieve their fallen comrades' bodies; they turned and vanished into the thick curtain of rain. Moments later, the main contingent of Jun family rescuers arrived to surround the area, but all that remained were a few cold corpses...

Just as the immediate danger passed and his probing attack concluded unsuccessfully, Jun Moxie crouched low, twisted, and slipped behind a moderately sized weeping willow by the street.

A streak of golden-yellow Xuan Qi light descended swiftly, piercing the rain, and landed before the eight battered and wounded guards. Its gaze swept them up and down: "No deaths, that's good. Where is the Young Master?"

It was Old Steward Pang! This steward of the Jun Residence, always so secretive, was actually a peak master of the Di Xuan realm! All eight guards froze, stunned! The person earlier had only said the Young Master was safe, but where was the Young Master himself? Had he not returned home? They exchanged bewildered glances.

Old Pang’s wrinkled face suddenly showed two eyebrows drawing taut. He asked menacingly, "You abandoned the Young Master and fled for your own lives?" A killing intent laced his voice! "N-no, it was... it was a mysterious master, he said he had already rescued the Young Master... just now, in the siege, he... he saved us. Has the Young Master not returned home?..." Jun Hu lowered his head in deep shame. If the Young Master was not safe, their hundred deaths would not suffice to atone for their failure.

"Mysterious master? Where is that mysterious master?" Old Pang asked three times in succession, his voice growing colder: "You casually believed an outsider, disregarding the Young Master’s safety to save your own lives? What use are you to the Jun family?!"

Thud! All eight dropped to their knees in the rainwater, standing ramrod straight, prepared to accept punishment, unable to speak.

Old Pang sighed deeply and then barked fiercely: "Jun Hu! Years ago, your Master took pity on your loneliness, brought you into the residence, taught you martial arts, and repeatedly entrusted you with great duties, always finding you reliable. That is why I placed the Young Master’s safety in your hands! Now the Young Master’s life or death is unknown. According to both family and military law, you deserve death! Do you have anything to say?"

"Your subordinate has nothing to say! I willingly accept the punishment!" Jun Hu knelt rigidly, the rain pouring over his head mixing with the blood, his face utterly expressionless. In truth, at this moment, he could have explained that their initial retreat was upon the Young Master's orders. Furthermore, since they were not the primary target of the assassination, they might have broken free much earlier if they had fought only for themselves. Yet, they had fought desperately to draw the enemy’s attention. None of this did he mention. If the Young Master met misfortune, it was his dereliction of duty—a clear fact, whether he spoke of it or not.

"Wait, wait..." Jun Moxie, covered in dirt and looking utterly disheveled, emerged from behind a broken wall and rushed over: "Old Pang, don't blame good men. If it weren't for Jun Hu and the others risking their lives to draw the enemy away, I could not have escaped. In fact, Jun Hu and the others have performed a merit, not an offense."

"Is that so?" Old Pang’s expression immediately softened. "Why didn't you say so earlier?" He glanced around and inquired, "Where is the mysterious master who saved you just now? This person has shown great favor to our Jun family; we must repay him handsomely."

"Your subordinate saw him go in a certain direction just now, but his movement technique was too marvelous; the subordinate dare not be absolutely certain," Jun Hu replied, still kneeling, raising a hand to point in the direction Jun Moxie had just come from.

"That person is truly strange. He threw me around until I was dizzy," Jun Moxie rubbed his forehead, where a slight bruise seemed to be forming. "He even kicked me just now after saving my life, and then left without a word. Truly impolite."

"What did this person look like?" Old Pang’s mind was racing through several possibilities.

"His face was covered; impossible to see clearly," Jun Moxie and Jun Hu answered simultaneously. However, Jun Moxie’s tone was carefree, while Jun Hu’s voice was filled with gratitude.

"It is unexpected that even after the Marshal displayed such power, there are still those in the capital foolish enough to target the Young Master," Old Pang murmured heavily. He waved his hand: "All eight of you, after recovering, go first to see the Third Master. Report everything that happened today, down to the smallest detail. Then, hand over all subsequent matters to the Third Master for handling!"

"Yes!" All eight replied in unison, standing up.