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Yan Kong slowly drew his blade, the sound of the sword leaving its sheath piercing through the silence of the small room, as if it had torn apart the stillness in the air. His gaze was icy, fixed on the kneeling samurai, his grip on the sword firm, ready to strike at any moment.
Across from him, the four Cyber Samurai simultaneously opened their eyes, moving in perfect unison to grasp their sword hilts. The blades glimmered with a cold light as they slid out of their sheaths, reflecting a chilling metallic sheen. They stood up with fluid movements, precise as machines, exuding an intense sense of pressure.
In the cramped room, the atmosphere tightened to an extreme point; it felt as though even the oxygen had been stripped away, an invisible killing intent making it hard to breathe. The four Cyber Samurai formed a semicircle, their sword tips slightly directed at Yan Kong, each body radiating the cold glow of high-tech cybernetics. These individuals were undoubtedly the elite forces of Yang Chuan.
Yan Kong did not flinch. His grip on the sword was as steady as a rock; he shifted his weight slightly forward, lowering his body in preparation for an imminent charge. Facing four similarly enhanced Cyber Samurai, he exuded an aura that suggested he was in control of the situation.
After a brief standoff, Yan Kong let out a low growl: "Come on!"
Before his voice faded, his figure shot forward like lightning, the blade slicing through the air towards the nearest samurai. The warrior's eyes flashed with cold light as he raised his sword to block the attack. The two blades clashed with a deafening metallic ring, sparks flying.
"Clang!" A crisp echo rang out as Yan Kong's sword was deflected, but he showed no hesitation; his movements were so swift they were almost imperceptible. Before his opponent could fully regain composure, Yan Kong's blade was already being drawn back from another angle, aimed directly at the warrior's neck.
"Thud—!" Blood splattered as the samurai's eyes widened in shock; his cybernetic neck was severed. His body froze for a moment before collapsing heavily to the ground. Yan Kong's blade rose again, taking up a defensive stance as he coldly surveyed the remaining three warriors.
The four samurai had now become three, yet their momentum remained unbroken. Their movements grew more cautious, their gazes now laced with wariness and murderous intent directed at Yan Kong. The tension in the room escalated once more; every movement and breath felt like a prelude to another deadly confrontation.
A faint smirk curled at Yan Kong's lips as he tightened his grip on the sword. He took a deep breath, bracing himself for an even fiercer wave of attacks.
Seeing his fallen comrade, one of the remaining samurai's eyes flashed with fury. No longer hesitating, he let out a low roar and charged at Yan Kong with his sword raised high. The blade came crashing down from above with a fierce whoosh, seemingly aiming to cleave both Yan Kong and the floor in half.
Yan Kong's gaze sharpened like lightning as he swiftly sidestepped to evade this lethal strike. With a clean and agile movement, he narrowly avoided the deadly blow. The sword struck heavily against the floor with a thunderous clang, creating a deep crack in the ground and sending shards flying everywhere.
"Hmph, brute force?" Yan Kong's lips curled slightly, revealing a hint of disdain.
Before the warrior's blade could fully rise, Yan Kong had already swung his own weapon to meet it. The clash of blades produced a piercing metallic screech, sparks flying between them. Their attacks were swift and fierce, the sharp glints of their swords intertwining in the air like two ferocious beasts fighting desperately in a confined space.
The intensity of their duel made the air feel thin, and the flickering lights in the room trembled with each impact, casting shadows that danced like phantoms around them.
However, Yan Kong could clearly sense his opponent's strength through the force transmitted by the blade—though rapid, it was somewhat rigid, with too many flaws hidden in the trajectory of the attacks. This opponent, while formidable, was far from being a threat to him.
"Is this all you've got?" Yan Kong scoffed coldly, a deeper chill glinting in his eyes.
After another clash of blades, Yan Kong suddenly changed his rhythm. He pivoted slightly on his feet, his body spinning rapidly with the momentum of his sword. A horizontal arc of light swept out like a gale, so fast it was almost invisible, carrying lethal precision.
The opponent was completely unprepared for this sudden strike; a flicker of astonishment crossed his eyes as he failed to raise his blade in time for defense. Yan Kong's blade had already sliced through his neck.
"Thud!" Blood gushed forth as the warrior's head was severed, his body swaying momentarily before crashing to the ground. The head rolled a few times on the floor before coming to rest in a corner, its face still bearing an expression of shock and unwillingness.
Yan Kong retracted his sword, blood dripping from its edge onto the floor. He cast a cold glance at the remaining two warriors, his voice low yet thick with provocation: "Who's next?"
These words hung in the air like a chilling winter wind, causing the atmosphere in the room to freeze once more. The remaining two warriors tightened their grips on their swords, their eyes reflecting anger and vigilance. They understood that this man before them was no ordinary Yankeeper; he was a harbinger of death.
With Yan Kong's taunt ringing in their ears, the two warriors roared and charged forward, their gleaming blades slicing through the air with a sharp whoosh. Their movements were nearly flawless as they attacked simultaneously from both sides, aiming to overwhelm Yan Kong in one decisive strike.
Yan Kong snorted coldly and did not flinch. He swung his sword fiercely, drawing a fierce arc in midair that managed to block both attacks at once. "Clang!" The crisp sound of metal clashing echoed throughout the room as sparks flew. The tremendous force caused his arms to tremble slightly, yet he remained as steady as a mountain, his feet firmly planted.
The room erupted into chaos, resembling a storm of violence. Two warriors wielded their blades, launching an unrelenting assault that enveloped Yan Kong like an impenetrable net. Each strike was swift and fierce, with angles so cunning that they left Yan Kong little room to breathe.
Yet for Yan Kong, this duel felt like a meticulously choreographed slow-motion performance. In his eyes, every move his opponents made was crystal clear and predictable; the flaws in their techniques were glaringly obvious. His blade danced among their attacks, blocking, dodging, and countering with precision. Each clash resonated with a powerful sense of pressure.
"Too slow..." Yan Kong murmured softly, a cold smile curling at the corners of his lips.
As one of the warriors slashed at him again, a glint of cold light flashed in Yan Kong's eyes. He chose not to confront the attack head-on; instead, he slightly sidestepped, allowing the blade to graze his armor before swiftly striking back, aiming directly for his opponent's ribs.
"Thud!" The blade sliced through effortlessly, blood gushing forth as the warrior's eyes widened in shock. His body froze for a moment before he collapsed weakly to the ground.
The other warrior, witnessing his comrade's swift defeat, was instantly overcome with shock and fear. He tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword and took a hesitant step back, clearly rattled by Yan Kong's formidable prowess.
"Foolish," Yan Kong coldly uttered these two words as his blade transformed into a flash of lightning, launching another attack.
The warrior attempted to raise his sword to defend himself, but his movements were sluggish due to his astonishment. Yan Kong's blade pierced into his chest first, the icy edge penetrating armor and driving straight into his heart. The warrior's lips parted slightly as if he wanted to say something, but ultimately all that escaped him was a brief sigh.
Yan Kong ruthlessly withdrew his blade, blood dripping from its edge onto the floor. He scanned the room, ensuring all four warriors lay defeated before finally lifting his gaze to the commander seated at the center.
The commander remained comfortably seated in his chair, a faint smile gracing his lips as his eyes sparkled with keen interest, as if the deadly struggle had merely been an inconsequential performance.
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