Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
Yan Kong stood at the edge of the battlefield, suddenly letting out a roar that shattered the gloomy atmosphere like thunder. He swiftly drew the sword from his waist, making an exaggerated motion as he hurled it high into the air. The blade spun rapidly, sunlight reflecting off its sharp edge, creating dazzling flashes that resembled lightning streaking across the sky.
"Ahhhhhh!" Yan Kong let out a piercing howl, as if to bolster his own bravado and draw everyone's attention. His performance was incredibly theatrical, reminiscent of a dramatic actor. With his body expanding in sync with his voice and movements, one hand pointed to the sky while the other gripped the sword sheath tightly. A manic smile spread across his face as his gaze locked onto the man in the straw hat—Bing Lie.
Yang Chuan's woman cast a cold glance at Yan Kong's antics, her lips curling into a slight smirk tinged with disdain. "Hmph... Yankeeper," she murmured, her tone laced with mockery, as if she regarded Yan Kong's sudden spectacle with utter indifference.
However, Yan Kong paid no heed to her words. He reached out and caught the falling sword with steady hands, the blade ringing out with a crisp sound. He teasingly licked the side of the blade, a provocative gesture, before swinging it down forcefully, pointing the tip directly at Bing Lie.
"Ronin Bing Lie!" Yan Kong's voice boomed with undeniable authority. "I am Duelist Yan Kong! Today, I challenge you to a duel! Come on, draw your sword and prove whether your reputation is worthy of your name!"
He turned to Wu Jing and Yang Chuan's high-ranking officials, waving his sword as he shouted, "You all stay here! Witness today's duel! See how my blade shatters the reputation of this Kong Si heir!"
Silence enveloped the arena, broken only by the faint crackling sounds of smoldering earth that had yet to cool from the flames. Bing Lie remained silent, gazing down at the ground as if deep in thought or waiting for an opportune moment. In contrast, Yan Kong stood tall and proud, his sword held horizontally across his chest, eyes ablaze with fierce battle intent, resembling a hero from legends.
The man from Wu Jing furrowed his brow deeply, displeasure evident on his face as he coldly regarded Yan Kong. His voice dripped with disdain and boredom. "I have no interest in wasting time here just to watch a clown's farce." With that, he turned away without hesitation, as if everything before him was unworthy of consideration.
Yet Yan Kong grinned wildly. He took a small step back and shook his shoulder; suddenly, several swords strapped to his back flew out of their sheaths accompanied by an overwhelming Killing Intent. The blades glinted menacingly in the sunlight as he flung them towards the man from Wu Jing at an unbelievable speed.
"Bang!" The guards reacted swiftly, raising their spears and shields to intercept. The sound of steel clashing echoed through the air. However, despite their best efforts to block him, one blade broke through their defenses like a cold flash aimed directly at the back of Wu Jing's man’s head. The sound of the blade slicing through the air made everyone gasp in horror, believing this strike would be fatal.
In that split second, Wu Jing's man slightly tilted his body and swiftly turned his head to the left in an almost imperceptible yet flawless motion to evade the deadly blade. The sword whizzed past his ear, creating a breeze as it plunged deep into the ground with a muffled thud.
He halted and slowly turned his head back, eyes icy and sharp as knives fixed on Yan Kong. His gaze held a hint of surprise but more so a subtle mockery as if appraising an unexpected toy. Suddenly he burst into laughter—deep and resonant—with an edge of madness. "Hahaha... interesting! Truly interesting!" He clapped his hands together, sarcasm dripping from his tone. "In this land, there are still such arrogant individuals. Duelist Yan Kong, I will remember you."
His guard stood nervously beside him, the blade pointed warily at Yan Kong, sweat glistening on his brow. The man, however, raised a hand to halt their movements, a faint smile playing on his lips, his eyes sparkling with an indescribable interest.
The man from Wu Jing waved his hand casually, and the guard immediately jogged to place a small folding chair behind him, the motion so practiced it seemed second nature. The man sat down leisurely, raising a hand to gently pat the back of the chair as if brushing away nonexistent dust. The teacup that had been spinning in his hand was replaced by a meaningful smile that lingered on his lips. His gaze swept across the scene before finally settling on the charred body slung over the soldiers' shoulders.
"Ah, what a bother," he drawled lazily, his tone laced with a hint of impatience yet veiled with undeniable sarcasm. "With the commander in such a state, I fear I’ll be in for a tongue-lashing from the general upon our return to camp. After all, this is not a loss that can be easily explained." His fingertips tapped lightly against the armrest of the chair, each tap seemingly carrying an obscure rhythm that heightened the tension in the air.
His gaze slowly shifted back to Yan Kong, as if appraising a curious new toy. The smile at the corner of his mouth grew more pronounced, tinged with a hint of disdain. "But perhaps this farce holds some value after all." His tone suddenly shifted to one that was light yet impossible to ignore for its underlying power. "After all, this is the ultimate dream of the Yankeepers, isn’t it? To be acknowledged by true figures of power and become a name etched in history..."
His voice was measured and unhurried, each word carving into Yan Kong’s heart like a dagger, imbued with an air of superiority. This speech caused Wu Jing's guards to straighten slightly, as if their master's words had infused them with newfound authority.
Yan Kong stood still, listening silently as a smile gradually appeared between his brows. He did not rush to respond; instead, he slowly sheathed his knife at his waist with an unusual fluidity, as though every detail had been honed through countless repetitions. Taking a deep breath, he unexpectedly bent at the waist and offered an extremely respectful bow toward the man from Wu Jing. This action left everyone present momentarily stunned, including Wu Jing's guards.
"I apologize for my earlier recklessness and for offending you," Yan Kong's deep voice resonated with rare humility but held no trace of resentment. His posture resembled that of a true warrior expressing genuine respect toward a worthy superior.
Yet beneath those lowered brows flickered an almost imperceptible ambition. This respect was sincere but concealed some deeper intention. The man from Wu Jing seemed to sense something amiss but chose not to address it; instead, he revealed an even more meaningful smile.
"Interesting, truly interesting," he murmured to himself before raising a finger and lightly pointing at Yan Kong. "I will remember your name, Yankeeper."
Comment 0 Comment Count