With a furious snort, Yin Yang gripped his blade, his form transforming into a streak of lightning that shot out through the carriage window. The next moment, a series of sharp clangs were followed by several muffled cries from outside.

The Cloud-Flipping Carriage finally crashed to the ground, the entire chassis shuddering violently. At the instant the vehicle hit, Zong Shou released his grip. He hung suspended in mid-air until the recoil force of the landing subsided, then dropped down with ethereal lightness. Next, with breathtaking speed, he deliberately avoided the side windows, snatched up a low table in front of him, and held it before his body as a shield.

This entire sequence took less than the time it takes for one breath. Almost simultaneously, two projectiles and three talismans shot in from the right-side window, exploding mid-air. Countless needle-like shards and a deluge of icy rain burst forth, scattering throughout the carriage interior.

A significant portion of these projectiles embedded themselves in the small table Zong Shou held up, emitting a series of sharp ting-ting-ting sounds.

Following the icy needles, several plumes of black mist erupted on either side of the Cloud-Flipping Carriage. It was already deep night, with rain lashing down so fiercely it was impossible to see one's hand before one's face. When this black vapor spread, the visibility within a hundred yards of the carriage dropped to absolute zero.

Zong Shou’s brow immediately arched sharply. Relentless killing—these people truly intended to take his life!

He suddenly bit down hard on his fingertip, using the blood as ink to rapidly sketch two extremely simple runes beside his eyes and ears—one for ‘Acute Hearing’ and one for ‘Clear Sight.’

Immediately, several cool streams of energy flowed into him. Within fifty yards, virtually every sound was perfectly captured by his hearing. His vision instantly sharpened; though he still couldn't see far, he could clearly make out everything within a ten-yard radius.

He saw two dark human silhouettes stealthily slipping through the carriage windows, using the fog as cover.

But before either of them could properly assess their surroundings, two streaks of white light shot out from Zong Shou's sleeve, piercing directly into their throats.

Two silvery-white willow-leaf flying daggers tore open their windpipes. The two dark figures managed only a barely audible, choked gasp—a mere 'huk'—before they fell silent forever.

Watching Zong Shou glide over, he caught their limp bodies and gently lowered them until they rested securely against the sides of the carriage. The entire process was executed without the slightest sound.

The pupils of both assassins constricted slightly. This person's movements and techniques were even more practiced than their own!

Judging by his apparent age—around thirteen—was this truly the legendary, supposedly weak Crown Prince of the Heavenly Dry Mountain?

Before they could even fully process this, Zong Shou tapped them sharply on the foreheads. After a wave of dizziness, all consciousness fled from the two men instantly.

Zong Shou’s actions didn't pause for a fraction of a second. He picked up the swords the two men had carried and left the Cloud-Flipping Carriage. His movements were swift, like a nimble fox leaping, and utterly silent.

Outside, raindrops the size of soybeans were hammering down relentlessly. The pitter-patter battered his eardrums, almost completely masking the sounds from Yin Yang and Chu Xue. A savage wind howled, cold and sharp as a blade, yet it could not disperse the thick black mist one bit.

As he exited the carriage, Zong Shou inscribed two more runes onto his own body, also written in blood: one for ‘Following the Wind’ and one for ‘Avoiding Rain.’

When his figure stepped into the downpour, he seemed to transform into an intangible wisp of vapor, hidden within the gale. The raindrops, with uncanny naturalness, seemed to slide away from him.

He scrutinized the scene before him. A man, his face covered by a kerchief, stood about a dozen yards away, watching the direction of the Cloud-Flipping Carriage with vigilance and suspicion, clearly wondering why his two companions had yet to report back. A faint green light flashed in the man's eyes, suggesting he, too, possessed some spiritual enhancement that allowed him to see through the black fog.

Zong Shou gave a silent smile and sprinted forward like lightning. Before the man could react, Zong Shou had traversed the ten-yard gap. A flash of sword light pierced through the other man’s panicked interception, diving straight into his skull!

With a violent twist of the blade tip, Zong Shou didn't pause to survey his success, immediately leaping past the man and continuing his dash eastward.

The instant that spiritual technique was activated, while others might not have detected it, he had vaguely discerned that the Spirit Master who launched the attack was ninety-nine percent likely positioned in that direction.

This confidence stemmed not only from the experience accumulated through countless perilous battles within the virtual illusionary realm but also from the assurance of a Heavenly Tier Martial Grandmaster in the real world!

"These two swords—one is Wind Diver, the other Shadow Step. Both are Talisman Soldiers! In fact, they surpass my Pine-Pattern Wind Sword by several degrees. Just who are these people?"

In the span of merely ten breaths of movement, Zong Shou had essentially mastered the qualities, weight, and capabilities of the two swords in his hands. Yet, this information only deepened the doubt in his eyes.

The Pine-Pattern Wind Sword had cost him an entire Third-Tier Beast Crystal, equivalent to one hundred thousand silver taels before the spiritual tide began. The Wind Diver and Shadow Step swords, by comparison, were valued even higher. Even if their price doubled that of the Pine-Pattern Wind Sword, two Third-Tier Beast Crystals might not have been enough to purchase them.

What faction could afford to be this generous? A Third-Tier demonic beast possesses combat power roughly equal to that of a Secret Martial Master. They are inherently rare, and slaying one is even more difficult.

A sword of this caliber, personally forged by a Mid-Tier Spirit Forger, would be treasured by even some Secret Martial Masters. For such weapons to be wielded by these mere Mid-Tier Martial Masters was deeply suspicious.

A sudden tremor echoed through the air above. Yin Yang’s voice roared a single word: "Kill!" Immediately, a mass of white flame surged into the sky, wrapping around a blade of brilliant, snow-white light.

As the fire-blade flashed, a figure, charred black like coke, immediately fell from the air.

"Why does Uncle Yin’s aura feel slightly off, as if constrained by some restriction? I sensed it when I first formed my Soul Sea, but it's far more pronounced now that he's fighting—"

Secretly pondering, Zong Shou remained unmoved and did not look back to confirm. With utmost calm, he activated the talismans inscribed on the two swords.

If before he was hiding within the wind, still maintaining some separation from its power, now, with the 'Wind Diver' talisman on the blade activated, Zong Shou had completely merged with the raging gale.

And when Shadow Step was triggered, a layer of black shadow manifested around Zong Shou, obscuring his form entirely. The sound of his footsteps was utterly erased.

Aided by the wind's power, Zong Shou’s speed became ghostly. In the blink of an eye, he shot out of the area covered by the black mist. Relying on the power of these runes, he continued to move through the dense forest like an invisible shadow. In just ten heartbeats, he covered a distance of 1,700 paces.

Then, a figure appeared within his sight. He appeared to be in his late twenties or early thirties, clad in white robes that remained utterly spotless despite the muddy, rainy forest floor.

He had erected an extremely simple altar nearby: two white candles burning, three sticks of Soul-Fixing Incense planted in the center. Animal blood was spilled on the ground, perfectly forming the shape of a Yin-Yang diagram.

The white-robed man held a peach-wood sword, standing precisely at the center of the diagram, his feet placed on the two Yin and Yang eyes. Four yellow Taoist talismans floated before him, and he was murmuring incantations.

He looked up at that moment and let out a cold sneer. "You actually managed to track this place? So the entourage of that Crown Prince is not entirely without capable men! Since you have come, then die!"

With a slight gesture of his hand, the four Taoist talismans were instantly launched. They gathered the immense water and ice spiritual energy concentrated within the dense woods and shot through the air toward Zong Shou.

Zong Shou’s expression was indifferent, but his body moved forward instead of retreating. His speed instantly surged by a full thirty percent! Charging swiftly against the incoming barrage of four ice talismans.