The connection between wiping out the Ravager Squad this morning and being ambushed right after stepping outside was hard to dismiss.

"Still, whoever they are, if they dare lay a finger on Judy or Angellisa, I won't mind slaughtering the lot of them! Even if I can't kill them now, once I master the Art of Air Walking, escaping will at least be an option," Chen Feng decided, putting everything else out of his mind and focusing his mental energy intently on the trees flanking the narrow path.

"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh..." Several sounds of objects tearing through the air zipped in from the woods.

It was arrows loosed from strong bows.

"Child's play," Chen Feng snorted, darting forward to evade an arrow coming from behind, while simultaneously unleashing a Ghost Burn to shatter all the arrows shot from the front. He followed up with four grappling hooks launched from the ground—two forward, two back!

"Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!" Four successive, massive explosions followed as the grappling hooks tore through the trees, snapping dozens of large trunks and engulfing the entire grove in a sea of fire.

"Aaargh..." "You dare!" Amidst sharp shouts, over a dozen figures burst rapidly from the burning foliage, instantly surrounding Chen Feng.

He glanced at them; every single one was at the level of an Eighth-Rank Fighter.

Judging by their singed hair and clothes, they had clearly suffered from Chen Feng's previous attack and were looking quite ragged. The attendant boy in front of Chen Feng was utterly terrified, cowering down and clutching his head.

Chen Feng silently counted fourteen figures closing in. Each carried a weapon—a sword, a saber, or a staff—varying in length and shape.

"You insolent brat! Burning down private grounds! You're looking to die!" the man in the very center shouted.

Chen Feng looked up at the group, his gaze brimming with disdain. His words, arrogant and icy cold, cut through the air: "Hmph. A gaggle of trash!"

"You..."

All fourteen of them were Eighth-Rank Fighters. For this youth, who looked barely sixteen, to be so audacious, showing them utter contempt, enraged every Fighter present.

"Brothers, stop holding back! Let's take him down together!" the central figure commanded.

The fourteen responded in unison, surging forward in a tumultuous wave of attack.

A faint smile touched Chen Feng's lips. With his current cultivation, fourteen Eighth-Rank Fighters posed no real threat; in fact, they were a perfect opportunity to test out the 'Anticipating the Enemy's First Move' technique he had grasped that morning.

Though they attacked simultaneously, they couldn't all reach him at once. In a brief moment, two weapons were already upon him—a long staff coming from the front, and a heavy sword from behind. The owners of these two weapons had perfectly blocked Chen Feng's routes of escape, one ahead and one behind.

The positions and angles of the staff and the sword were wickedly precise: one aimed directly at the head, the other sweeping low for the groin. Coupled with the attacks from the others, they clearly intended to trap and finish Chen Feng in a single move.

These men must have coordinated their efforts for a long time to achieve such potent synergy. The pressure exerted by the fourteen Eighth-Rank Fighters in that instant was actually greater than the pressure he faced from more than a dozen Ninth-Rank Dragon Knights on the ice platform!

It seemed the saying that cooperation could double one's strength was indeed true.

The two weapons were about to crash into him, yet Chen Feng's eyes still held that amused smile, as if he paid them no mind whatsoever.

The Fighter with the staff and the one with the heavy sword both felt a surge of triumph, increasing the force behind their blows. Dou Qi spun ghost-like around their weapons, and the pair shot forward with a piercing, air-rending shriek.

Thud! Thud!

The sound of steel sinking into flesh rang out. Both Fighters broke into smiles, but simultaneously, a dreadful realization dawned. They felt all their strength draining away. Their weapons had inexplicably changed trajectory, burying themselves instead into the chests of each other!

And the red-haired youth trapped in the center? He had vanished!

Crash!

Both men collapsed and died at once.

To redirect two weapons aimed directly at one's body required not only incredible speed but also a level of vision and reaction that was virtually unattainable.

"Has this youth already reached the level of a Fighter Master?"

That was the last coherent thought in the minds of those two men before death claimed them.

Having killed two Eighth-Rank Fighters while barely expending any of his internal Qixuan energy, Chen Feng's spirit soared. He moved like a phantom, weaving back and forth among the remaining crowd. Wherever he passed, blood sprayed and limbs shattered.

Reverse Peel, Ghost Burn, Sunflower, Dream Bullet... techniques flowed out one after another, executed as a seamless whole—violent and unrestrained, yet filled with potent beauty. A brutal sort of beauty.

The attendant boy's face turned ashen, growing paler until he began to retch. The intense stench of blood permeated the air around him, making him feel unable to breathe.

Chen Feng, meanwhile, felt exhilarated the more he fought, gaining deeper insight into the Anticipating the Enemy's First Move style of combat.

The flagstone path was soon drenched crimson, rendered exceptionally gruesome under the glare of the surrounding inferno.

"You thought a group like this could kill me? Your planning was far too simple!" Chen Feng stated coldly after dispatching the last attacker, wiping a trace of blood from the corner of his mouth.

He abruptly hauled up the attendant boy, who was vomiting and close to collapse, squatting there. "Lead the way!"

If the attendant had only felt fear earlier, now he was paralyzed by terror—a deep, bone-shaking dread of death itself.

One man butchering fourteen Eighth-Rank Fighters was one thing if the killer were a Fighter Master or higher; but this was an ordinary Fighter, and the slaughter had been executed with unparalleled savagery. How could one not be terrified, shocked to the core?

The boy felt utterly weak, but standing still meant only one outcome: death. He forced himself to suppress his terror and stumbled forward along the narrow track.

"Slap, slap..." The sound of something wet hitting the ground echoed behind him incessantly. The boy dared a quick glance back and saw that the red-haired youth, for all his ferocity, had sustained injuries under the barrage of the fourteen Eighth-Rank Fighters. Blood dripped steadily from his arm, each drop hitting the ground with a crisp sound.

The fight had been incredibly fast-paced; the dozen-plus men had surrounded Chen Feng, attacking in relays. The speed was such that he faced the assault of seven or eight fists every second. Had his body not been exceptionally resilient and his reflexes lightning-fast, he would surely be dead by now.

Chen Feng currently felt a burning pain in his chest and arm. His chest had taken a blow from one of the two Fighters in their death throes, and his arm had been grazed by a swordsman. However, the injuries were not severe enough to significantly impede his combat effectiveness.

Tearing off a strip of cloth to bind his wounds, Chen Feng’s expression immediately settled back into nonchalance.

What kind of organization could field fourteen Eighth-Rank Fighters at once? Furthermore, their coordination was astonishingly proficient—even better than the Dragon Knights he had encountered previously. Who could train people to move with such intimate synchronization?

"Could they be the army?" Chen Feng suddenly wondered, a chill crawling up his spine.

The military was always a formidable force. Even a cultivation level as high as Fighter Venerable might only find one path when faced with tens of thousands of charging soldiers: flight! Slaying ten thousand soldiers would not be a simple task even for a Fighter Venerable.

But it was strange. If they truly wanted him dead, they could have done it outside or through assassination. Why lure him into the residence and kill him so openly? Did they truly fear no Imperial laws?

Or perhaps their objective wasn't to kill him? Then why deploy fourteen Eighth-Rank Fighters to block his path, with every move seeming lethal?

Chen Feng shook his head, clearing the slightly chaotic thoughts. The situation his current body's owner had inherited was entirely too bizarre.

He had already been harmed.

If more experts from the opposing side appeared, Chen Feng would be forced to draw the Nether Feather Sword. That treasured blade contained an overwhelming aura of murderous intent, certainly ranking it among Holy Artifacts. While the techniques of the Fist Emperor were powerful, they were constrained by his own current strength; the effect of the Nether Feather Sword would likely be superior.

However, a trump card must always be revealed last. The Nether Feather Sword and the Art of Air Walking were Chen Feng's greatest assets right now; he should avoid exposing them unless absolutely necessary, lest the opponent adapt and make his maneuvers far more difficult.

Taking a deep breath, Chen Feng gradually relaxed his mood and continued down the winding, meandering path.

But after walking for a long time, no danger or ambush materialized, which left Chen Feng feeling slightly puzzled.

Both men harbored deep thoughts, and the air felt as still as frozen water, but soon they emerged from the crooked path.

Ahead lay a circular man-made lake. In the center of the lake was a small, artificial mountain. A water corridor, winding like a swimming dragon, was constructed across the lake, leading straight to the mountain. Atop the mountain rested a small pavilion.

The pavilion's interior was obscured from view, making it impossible to see if anyone was inside, but the area surrounding the artificial mountain was guarded by heavily armored soldiers, seemingly protecting something important.

"Judging by this setup, even if it's not a high-ranking military official, it must be a noble or a powerful minister. I wonder what kind of backing that Ravager Squad had to draw such support!" Chen Feng mused, though a new question immediately arose: "After I killed the Ravager Squad, His Majesty summoned me and suspected I was from the Overseas Continent. He should be trying to stop this kind of retaliation, shouldn't he? Is he not afraid of the wrath of the Overseas Continent?"

Chen Feng shook his head, finding the entire affair deeply suspicious.

"C-can I go now? If you walk across the long corridor to the small pavilion, you will meet my master there!" the attendant whispered, trembling profusely.

As Chen Feng looked toward the pavilion, about to nod his agreement, a beam of light suddenly shot out from the structure, forcing Chen Feng to squint. At that instant, the attendant seemed to transform; a sinister grin spread across his face, and with a flick of his wrist, a gleaming dagger materialized in his hand, stabbing toward Chen Feng’s chest. (To be continued. For the next chapter, please visit www**m for more content, supporting the author and genuine reading!) .