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Yan Kong's lips curled into a smirk, a smile that radiated both arrogance and madness. He slowly raised the knife in his hand, its blade glinting sharply in the sunlight, as if yearning for the nourishment of blood. His gaze remained fixed on Bing Lie, yet it seemed to pierce through his figure, looking towards a more distant battlefield.
"Do you know?" Yan Kong said softly, his tone laced with a hint of mockery and self-deprecation. "Since I can remember, my life has been spent on the battlefield. The sword is my pen, and blood is my ink."
He surveyed the charred ground around him, pointing towards the desolate land. "And this earth is my canvas." His voice grew somber, filled with deep bitterness and a mad obsession. "Every battle, every competition, is my work—it's the only way this cruel world allows me to exist."
His gaze locked onto Bing Lie once more, his smile deepening. "Fighting and competition are human nature that we cannot escape; one might even say they are our most despicable traits. But I do not hide or disguise it. I am the embodiment of this depravity, a product of this hell."
He forcefully positioned the knife before him, its blade humming ominously as if heralding an impending storm. His voice was low yet powerful, each word carrying an overwhelming pressure. "Bing Lie, I warn you one last time. I, Yan Kong, the Yankeeper, am ready. If you do not draw your blade, then in the next moment, you will regret it."
His eyes blazed with intensity as he took a slight step forward, emanating an overwhelming Killing Intent that seemed to shake the very air around him. He resembled a tiger poised to pounce on its prey.
Yan Kong did not give Bing Lie any chance to respond. His murderous intent surged like a tidal wave—formless yet heavy—instantly consuming all the air around them. With a sudden roar, he stomped down hard; the ground trembled under his power as he charged at Bing Lie like a gust of wind. The blade raised high above him sliced downward with fierce momentum, its whistle echoing like a beast's roar aimed directly at Bing Lie's head.
Bing Lie's figure swayed slightly; his movements appeared slow but were executed with pinpoint precision. He slipped aside like a feather, the blade barely grazing his shoulder and even taking a strand of hair with it as it fell away in the wind. Yet Yan Kong's assault showed no signs of abating; each strike was imbued with tremendous force, making the air thick with his Killing Intent. Each blow struck like thunder, leaving no room for breath.
Yan Kong's footsteps thundered against the ground as he relentlessly pursued Bing Lie; every step sent tremors through the earth, scattering dirt in all directions. His blade swung continuously without pause, as if he sought to crush everything before him with unyielding strength. Bing Lie retreated swiftly, tracing elegant arcs across the ground; his steps were as precise as a dance, maintaining a delicate distance from Yan Kong despite his relentless aggression.
Suddenly, Bing Lie pivoted on his foot and leaned forward, seizing an opening to kick towards Yan Kong's chest with lightning speed—a kick infused with immense power and astonishing accuracy. Yet Yan Kong reacted just as swiftly; he turned his body in an instant to cleverly dissipate the force and followed up with a fluid spinning slash that sent his blade sweeping towards Bing Lie’s face.
Bing Lie’s expression shifted; he leaned back sharply as the blade grazed past his nose by mere inches. Despite this close call, it left its mark on his hat—one corner cleanly severed and fragments drifting away in the breeze. Seizing the moment, Yan Kong accelerated again; his blade swung out once more while Bing Lie quickly crouched down, narrowly avoiding another deadly strike that left a near-miss mark above him.
Bing Lie’s movements flowed seamlessly like water; after stepping back once more, he stood upright and coldly regarded Yan Kong. His eyes reflected calmness as if this violent clash was merely a test for him. Meanwhile, Yan Kong gripped his sword tightly with an excited smile at the corner of his mouth—as if this endless chase had only just begun.
The two returned to a standoff, the air thick with an invisible pressure, their gazes interwoven with faint sparks. Yan Kong suddenly hurled the long knife in his hand aside, the blade embedding itself into the ground with a dull thud. He swiftly drew two short daggers from his waist, their blades glinting coldly in the sunlight, his movements appearing wild and untamed. A grin spread across his face, confidence and provocation gleaming in his eyes, as if this was the very style of combat he excelled at.
Bing Lie remained rooted in place, his hand lightly resting on the hilt of his sword, shaking his head slightly, as if to suggest that Yan Kong's choice might be a mistake. Yet Yan Kong paid no heed, a more manic smile creeping onto his lips as he spoke in a low voice tinged with mockery, "Close combat is my specialty, Bing Lie. No matter how fast your sword is, it can't win at this distance, can it?"
Before his words had fully settled, Yan Kong lunged forward with a speed like the wind, his figure skimming across the ground and stirring up a fine cloud of dust. With both hands gripping the daggers, he swung them rapidly, the blades carving intersecting arcs through the air as they surged toward Bing Lie like a tempest. Each strike was swift and cunning, designed solely to pressure his opponent's defenses without any discernible pattern.
A glimmer of appreciation flashed in Bing Lie's eyes, yet he maintained his calm demeanor. He slightly withdrew his body, effortlessly evading Yan Kong's first wave of attacks; the short daggers sliced past him less than an inch from his chest, sending a chill through the air. However, Yan Kong did not relent; he pivoted sharply and unleashed another flurry of strikes aimed directly at Bing Lie's abdomen and throat, intent on delivering a decisive blow.
Bing Lie moved gracefully yet powerfully, sidestepping with ease while keeping his sword sheathed. He relied solely on footwork and body angles to deflect Yan Kong's attacks. His movements seemed almost prescient, always managing to evade the deadly thrusts of the daggers at the most critical moments.
Yan Kong grew increasingly frantic, spinning the daggers like two claws in a storm, relentlessly tearing at Bing Lie. The sharp sounds of blades slicing through the air sent shivers down one's spine as the frequency and force of his attacks escalated, as if he aimed to drive Bing Lie into a corner.
Yet Bing Lie's steps remained composed and calm. His actions were simple yet effective; occasionally tilting his head slightly was enough to dodge a rapid dagger strike. His gaze remained fixed on Yan Kong's wrists and shoulders, seemingly studying his opponent's next move while maintaining an expression of indifference as if watching an inconsequential performance.
Finally retreating a few steps to catch his breath, Yan Kong's eyes ignited with even greater fighting spirit. "Aren't you going to draw your sword, Bing Lie? With such confidence, aren't you afraid I might land my next strike directly on you?"
Bing Lie remained unfazed and replied softly, "If you can do it, why not give it a try?"
Yan Kong's smile turned even more deranged as he tightened his grip on the daggers and leaned forward once more, preparing to launch into an even more frenzied assault. However, he couldn't help but glance at the sword still sheathed at Bing Lie's waist, an inexplicable sense of trepidation rising within him.
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