A roar brimming with venom erupted from Cheng Ningsheng’s mouth. He raised his staff high, his hair and beard standing on end, appearing like a divine being descending, imposing and utterly supreme.

Even Guan Wei, a veteran of countless battles, felt a prickle of genuine fear at that moment. He knew that the strike unleashed by the old man in his fury could not be a trivial matter.

Taking a step back, Guan Wei held his great saber level across his chest, focusing his entire being on the confrontation.

However, what he expected was not the staff held high above Cheng Ningsheng’s head, seemingly ready to smash down at any second. His vision flashed, and he instantly registered more than ten glints of cold light. He immediately understood: Cheng Ningsheng’s move was merely a feint; what was truly aimed at him were the dozen or so crossbow bolts that had been secretly targeting him all along.

Fortunately, Guan Wei possessed vast experience, especially in dealing with such projectile attacks, skills few others could ever attain.

His body instantly coiled up like a frightened hedgehog. Disregarding all image, he rolled onto the ground. Though it looked somewhat undignified, he managed to evade every single bolt.

This was his true mastery, the ultimate survival technique honed in piles of corpses and under barrages of arrows.

But before he could even rise, the sound of weapons tearing through the air arrived above him like a sudden downpour.

He cursed inwardly and desperately parried left and right, just managing to avoid the dozen staff strikes Cheng Ningsheng delivered in the follow-up. Yet, he had no moment to catch his breath, as two old men and four middle-aged men suddenly leaped out from behind Cheng Ningsheng—all of them possessing the cultivation level of the Eighth Layer of Inner Strength.

As these figures appeared, they gritted their teeth, recklessly swinging their weapons at him with fatal intent, as if each bore an irreconcilable, deep-seated hatred for him.

Even though he was a master of the Ninth Layer of Inner Strength, Guan Wei was startled by this sudden volley of attacks. Six masters of the Eighth Layer of Inner Strength—even he could not afford to dismiss them lightly.

Having barely dodged clear, a thick staff once again materialized before his eyes.

Guan Wei’s fierce nature immediately flared up. He roared, no longer bothering to defend against the staff smashing down upon him, and swung his great saber backward, intending to force a mutually destructive outcome with Cheng Ningsheng.

However, halfway through his swing, his saber was intercepted by a long spear thrust.

Guan Wei knew disaster was imminent. He desperately twisted his head sideways, only to be struck on his left arm by the staff. An intense, burning pain shot through him, momentarily paralyzing nearly half his body.

A figure rushed up to his side, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Cheng Ningsheng, glaring down at him coldly.

Guan Wei clenched his jaw, then suddenly heard a chorus of agonizing screams.

It turned out the initial crossbow barrage had involved far more than just a dozen bolts. Besides targeting him, dozens more had been loosed toward the others. His subordinates, the old comrades who had followed him for decades, were mostly wounded by arrows.

His gaze drifted toward He Quanxin, and he sneered, asking, “Who are you? There shouldn’t be a second Ninth Layer cultivator in the Cheng family.”

He Quanxin retracted his long spear and announced loudly, “He Quanxin of He Family Village pays his respects to Commander Guan.”

“He Family Village…” Guan Wei nodded repeatedly, grinding his teeth, “A fine He Family Village, and the Cheng family too! You bastards! How dare you injure the men of the Red Turban Bandits? The First Chief and the Second Chief will never let this go. They will slaughter every last one of you, leaving no chicken or dog alive.”

Cheng Ningsheng slowly lowered his staff, the venom in his eyes no less intense than his opponent’s.

“Is that so? Then we shall wait for them right here. The Red Turban Bandits—hehe. Let’s see just who ends up with no chickens or dogs left.”

The Cheng Residence had suffered such inexplicable casualties this time, and even the Thousand-Year Blood Ginseng had been stolen. Under such circumstances, they were already sworn enemies of the Red Turban Bandits; it was either their death or the bandits' demise.

He Quanxin hesitated slightly, sighing inwardly, realizing the He Family could not extricate itself from this situation now.

However, the Red Turban Bandits were mere thugs from Taichong County, whereas the Cheng family was one of the county’s three major powers. If forming an alliance with the Cheng family resulted from this clash, it might not be a total loss.

After speaking, Cheng Ningsheng raised his staff high. “Nephew He, shall we join forces and strike this man down?”

“Good. I shall follow Elder’s every command,” He Quanxin replied loudly.

The two moved as one, thrusting their staff and spear forward simultaneously, showering Guan Wei as if whipping up a storm of wind and rain.

Guan Wei’s heart was a mixture of shock and rage, but cornered to this desperate extent, he showed no weakness. He brandished his great saber, defending with impenetrable skill. Though fighting two opponents, his innate ferocity allowed him to hold his ground for the time being without suffering a clear disadvantage.

The others naturally did not stand idle. He Quanming and He Yitian helped the Cheng family members surge forward, completely surrounding the wounded bandits and those who had narrowly escaped the crossbow fire.

No more words were exchanged. A frantic battle erupted. This time, however, the bandits were severely outmatched compared to the combined forces of the Cheng and He families. Despite the bandits’ ferocious nature, they were quickly overcome, either killed or captured, like withered leaves swept by an autumn wind.

He Yiming did not join the fray. He pulled three sections of steel, each nearly a meter long, from the large pack on his back and began assembling them piece by piece.

When the three metal sections were finally joined, they formed a massive, terrifying great-polearm saber nearly three meters long.

Seeing this formidable weapon, the elders and middle-aged men of the Cheng family all changed expression.

This great saber was not unfamiliar to people of their generation. They had witnessed its terrifying might in their youth. Back then, in the entirety of Taicang County, only one man could contend against this blade.

But for the past two decades, this saber had been withdrawn from public view. Some in the younger generation had never even heard of it. Yet now, as the great saber reappeared, their buried memories instantly sharpened.

Looking at the young He Yiming, the elders of the Cheng family were overcome with complex emotions.

As for the younger disciples of the Cheng family, they too were shaken by the weapon’s horrifying appearance. Perhaps they had never heard the legends surrounding this saber, unaware that the very foundation of the He Family’s power was built upon it. But just looking at its form, no fool would believe it was merely ornamental.

He Yiming stood there, holding the great saber, his gaze fixed steadily upon the three facing Guan Wei.

He did not join the siege immediately. Although fighting such opponents required no adherence to protocol, if the goal was to kill him on the spot rather than allowing him to escape, then having too many surrounding attackers was not necessarily better.

After a long pause, He Yiming frowned slightly. They had underestimated the man’s tenacity. Under the combined assault of two masters of the same level, though he was fully occupied and seemed on the verge of collapse at any moment, he had suffered no truly significant injuries throughout the engagement.

A master of the Ninth Layer of Inner Strength—at their level, defeating them might not be difficult, but killing them was an entirely different matter.

Seeing that all his companions nearby had been annihilated, Guan Wei suddenly bellowed. With a wave of his left hand, a series of rapid whistling sounds erupted. Several throwing knives seemed to materialize suddenly from the netherworld, flashing brilliant, snowy white under the sunlight as they flew toward Cheng Ningsheng.

Though Elder Cheng hated him to the bone, he wouldn't risk mutual destruction in a situation where he held absolute advantage. His figure paused, and with a circular sweep of his staff, he completely blocked the flying knives.

But in that split second, Guan Wei merged with his saber, transforming into a streak of lightning as he lunged fiercely toward He Quanxin.

He Quanxin’s expression shifted slightly. He vaguely sensed that this strike contained all of Guan Wei’s full inner strength, and its fierce momentum carried an undertone of sheer desperation. If he met this blow head-on, he feared they would truly end up crippling each other.

His thoughts shifted, and his killing intent instantly weakened. Reluctantly, He Quanxin retreated two steps, his long spear lightly flicking out to evade the mad strike.

Guan Wei let out a triumphant laugh, his body moving like lightning as he broke free from the entanglement of the two Ninth Layer masters.

Even though all the brothers he had brought were annihilated this time, as long as he lived for one more day, he could always return to avenge them.

He only remembered the He and Cheng families joining forces to slaughter his men; he completely failed to recall that this conflict had been initiated by them first. For these bandits, killing was natural and justified. But if others dared to kill them, that was absolutely unacceptable. As long as a single breath remained, vengeance must be exacted.

However, just as his laughter died in his throat, his vision abruptly blurred, followed by the sensation of an immense, almost unbelievable gale force rushing toward him. Simultaneously, his sight was overwhelmed by a blinding, dazzling light.

Fortunately, years of life-or-death experience allowed him to react at the last possible moment. He raised his great saber high, blocking directly in front of him at the critical juncture.

With a deafening boom, He Yiming’s great-polearm saber struck Guan Wei’s long saber with brutal, unadorned force.

Though Guan Wei’s saber was large, compared to the great-polearm saber, it was insignificant.

Struck by this blow, it felt like a mountain crushing down. Guan Wei could no longer remain upright. His feet crossed as he retreated backward, attempting to diffuse the immense weight of the strike.

But after only a few steps back, he felt an overwhelming force slam into him from behind. He knew disaster had struck, but at this point, there was no room left to maneuver.

A thick staff, imbued with indelible hatred and the vengeance for a hundred lives, smashed viciously into Guan Wei’s waist.

He let out a monstrous roar, and his body was brutally cleaved in two. The flesh and blood at the upper and lower halves of the rupture were a gruesome mess, his agonizing screams chilling the blood, vast patches of crimson soaking the ground, even his internal organs spilled out.

Yet, even under such a horrific injury, he did not die instantly, continuing to shriek in agony. Only after a long while did his voice finally rasp out, and he expired.

Cheng Ningsheng watched him coldly, a gleam of vengeful satisfaction flickering in his eyes that was equally bone-chilling.

P.S.: First update for today. Brothers, please support with recommendation votes. Thank you ^_^