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墨書 Inktalez
Who knew that Leng Junyu was even more terrifying than the rumors suggested?
His unpredictable martial arts and ruthless methods turned his hands into weapons. In no time, all of the dozen or so brothers he brought with him had fallen.
The Eight Tigers realized they had underestimated the Wise King. If this continued, they would surely meet their end. Seizing the opportunity, they took the little eunuch hostage.
After all, it was clear from Leng Junyu's earlier actions that this little eunuch held a special significance in the eyes of this living hell. As long as he had the yellow card in hand, what was there to fear?
Thus, with the yellow card in their possession, the Eight Tigers gradually calmed their previously frantic hearts.
Meanwhile, Leng Junyu, upon hearing the Eight Tigers' words, finally came to a halt—not because he wanted to, but because he had just killed the last black-clad man beside him.
With a lightning-fast strike of his palm, he sliced through the air in front of the black-clad man. The man could only let out a muffled groan before collapsing decisively.
His eyes, exposed to the outside world, widened in shock, as if he couldn't close them even in death.
As the Eight Tigers looked at their brothers who had all met a gruesome fate at Leng Junyu's hands, a twitch appeared at the corner of their mouths, and a glimmer of horror crossed their eyes.
The scene was one of carnage, with bodies strewn everywhere, each death more gruesome than the last.
Some had their hearts pierced by a single blow; others had their skulls split open with brains spilling out; some had their necks twisted…
Even for the Eight Tigers, who were notorious for their brutality and bloodshed, witnessing such horror sent chills down their spines. Yet more than fear, they felt an overwhelming rage!
No matter what, these brothers had accompanied him through life and death for many years, engaging in schemes and plunder, killing and looting. Now they had all met a tragic end at the hands of this man; how could he not harbor hatred in his heart!?
In contrast to the mixed feelings of hatred and anger that Eight Tigers felt towards himself, Leng Junyu slowly retracted his hand after dealing with the last black-clad figure. He then tidied up his robe, which had become somewhat disheveled from the fierce battle.
His movements were so graceful and composed.
His black hair flowed like silk, cascading elegantly as his robes fluttered. That handsome figure, as striking as jade, was breathtakingly beautiful.
Watching Leng Junyu, who remained calm despite hearing his words, Eight Tigers felt a crack form on his face.
This man before him was someone he could never understand from beginning to end.
He had once scoffed at the rumors surrounding this man, believing them to be exaggerated tales. How could there be such an extraordinary and inscrutable figure in this world?
After witnessing him today, he realized that this man was even more terrifying than the rumors suggested.
The thin robe accentuated his tall stature, straight as a sword drawn from its sheath.
His features were sharp, and his pitch-black eyes resembled a bottomless ancient well, devoid of warmth, making it impossible to discern his true thoughts.
Even as he casually stood there, an aura of coldness emanated from him, warning others to keep their distance—he exuded power without needing to raise his voice!
For a man who was born to stand at the pinnacle, Eight Tigers felt both jealousy and resentment as another man.
However, what filled him more was fear.
Because when his gaze fell upon the man's clean, snow-white hands before him, a chill ran down his spine.
Just moments ago, this man had single-handedly taken down more than ten of his armed brothers, and yet his hands remained completely untainted by blood. What kind of unpredictable skill was this...
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