Chapter 74: An Unexpected Incident (Part Two)

As the scar-faced man struck, the two men behind him drew their broadswords from their backs and charged at Yang Yaozong. Sensing the ferocity and strength of the scar-faced man, Yang Yaozong dared not face him head-on. He swiftly sidestepped the incoming palm strike and moved quickly to meet the two men closing in from behind.

The two attackers swung their blades at his side simultaneously. Yang Yaozong twisted his body to evade one of the blades, then brought his hand down hard on the wrist of the man beside him, forcing the weapon hand back at an unnatural angle. With a cry of pain, the man released his grip. Yang Yaozong seized the opportunity, wrenched the blade free, and in one fluid motion, slashed it across the man's abdomen. Without pause, he shoved the blade forward as he rushed past, forcing the wounded man to stumble backward, clutching at the exposed back of the sword embedded in his body.

Yang Yaozong then spun around, yanked the blade free, and kicked the injured man to his knees, pressing the sword against the man's throat. With a calm expression, he looked coldly at the scar-faced man and said, "You were sent by the Crown Prince of Qin, weren't you? Now that I've wounded your two comrades, you surely won't give up, but if you let me return safely to my residence today, at least this brother of yours still has a chance to live. Hesitate any longer and he may bleed to death—by then, his death will be on your hands."

Yang Yaozong had no idea what the true relationship was between these men; he could only wager on it now.

The man kneeling before Yang Yaozong clutched his wound with both hands, his spirit already flagging from blood loss. At that moment, the youngest of the group, standing near the scar-faced man, cried out anxiously, "Third Brother!"

The scar-faced man had not expected the seemingly gentle Yang Yaozong to possess such formidable martial skills, dispatching two of his brothers in an instant. He had clearly underestimated his opponent. Anger distorted his scarred features into an even more menacing mask. He glared fiercely at Yang Yaozong and growled through clenched teeth, "Yang Yaozong, you threaten the wrong man. If we fail to kill you tonight, none of us will live to see tomorrow. Don’t hope for the city patrol to save you—they’re already dead by our hands. I was merciful before, thinking you had some talent and deserved a quick end. That was my mistake! Yang Yaozong, go to hell!"

With two swift strides, the scar-faced man closed in, launching a fist straight for Yang Yaozong’s face. Unable to use the wounded man as a shield, Yang Yaozong raised the blade he'd just taken and faced the attack head-on.

The scar-faced man’s external martial arts were formidable, his strength astonishing, and his moves swift and unpredictable. Each time Yang Yaozong swung the sword, the man would either punch or slap the flat of the blade, diverting its path. Having trained for only two months, Yang Yaozong was no match for such a seasoned fighter. In just a few exchanges, he was forced onto the defensive, his sword arm numbed by the repeated blows.

Even as he fought, the scar-faced man barked orders to the young man behind him, "Fourth, hurry and stop Third Brother’s bleeding! Check on Second Brother too!"

The one called Fourth, seeing his eldest brother had gained the upper hand, felt assured that, even if Yang Yaozong had some fighting skill, he was no real threat. He immediately set about following orders.

The scar-faced man kept both hands busy fending off Yang Yaozong’s blade, while his legs launched relentless attacks. Unable to dodge in time, Yang Yaozong had to take several heavy blows, each one forcing him back several steps before he could regain his footing. His strength waned, while his opponent only grew fiercer. Suddenly, a heavy punch slammed into Yang Yaozong’s shoulder, and the sword slipped from his numbed fingers. He gritted his teeth and glared at his foe, thinking grimly that this might indeed be his end.

The scar-faced man flashed a sinister grin. Seeing Yang Yaozong clutching his right shoulder, battered and spent, he showed no mercy. Dispensing with technique, he swung a brutal fist at Yang Yaozong’s head. The two were so close that Yang Yaozong could not evade; instead, he threw himself forward, crashing into the man’s chest. Towering at over six feet, the man’s burly frame could easily envelop Yang Yaozong.

Ignoring the pain in his shoulder and body, Yang Yaozong wrapped his hands tightly around the man’s throat, locking his legs around him and butting his head fiercely against the man’s skull—once, twice, three times—until blood streamed down both their faces, whether from scalp wounds or broken noses, it was impossible to tell.

The scar-faced man, throat in a vice grip, was thrown off by Yang Yaozong’s unexpected onslaught. He hammered his fists into Yang Yaozong’s back, each blow loosening the chokehold, but Yang Yaozong clenched his jaw and continued to drive his head into his opponent’s skull.

Blood surged in Yang Yaozong’s chest from the repeated blows to his back; he spat a mouthful of blood directly onto his foe’s face.

The scar-faced man, shocked by Yang Yaozong’s tenacity, found that battering his opponent did nothing to stop the headbutts, and as his airway tightened, he began gasping for breath. He gripped Yang Yaozong’s forearms with both hands and pried outward, desperately trying to free himself.

Meanwhile, Fourth finished bandaging his third brother’s wound and, seeing his eldest brother locked in a bloody struggle with Yang Yaozong, rushed forward, blade raised. But as he approached, he saw his brother, battered by Yang Yaozong’s relentless headbutts, suddenly collapse backward, falling flat on his back.

Yang Yaozong, face smeared with blood, eyes wild and red, hair in disarray, looked absolutely terrifying. Sensing someone at his back, he rolled off the fallen man and lay on the ground, barely able to prop himself up.

Having felled the scar-faced man, Yang Yaozong had no strength left to resist the young man before him. He could only glare fiercely, a contemptuous smile twisting his lips.

The young man was stunned by the scene. He had never imagined his eldest brother would fall. All four of them were trusted retainers of the Prince of Qin, famed within the prince’s household as the Four Vajras—all skilled in external martial arts, especially their eldest brother, whose prowess was unparalleled. Under his command, they had accomplished many tasks for the prince without a single failure, earning his favor. That was why the prince had dispatched them to the capital to protect the two young lords. Before escaping the city, the eldest had ordered them to kill Yang Yaozong, thinking it would be an easy task. Yet now, this scholar had struck down their leader, leaving only himself unscathed. Seeing Yang Yaozong’s fearless and derisive expression, the young man raised his broadsword and, grinding his teeth, bellowed, "Go to hell!"

Yang Yaozong’s vision, blurred by blood, could barely discern his surroundings. He thought, “This time, death is certain.” Dizzy from the blows, exhausted to his core, he finally lost consciousness.

A metallic clang rang out—the sound of weapons striking.