The Curved Blade Martial Artist moved again. His build wasn't imposing—in fact, he was somewhat gaunt—but he moved with ghostly speed.
The curved saber in his hand danced, its flashing blade like a waning moon. Every swing claimed another life.
"SQUISH! SQUISH!"
In the blink of an eye, seven or eight villagers collapsed into pools of their own blood, unable even to cry out in pain.
After clearing away the cannon fodder, the Martial Artist stopped. Through the flickering firelight, his gaze locked onto Su Yu, who stood in the middle of the road.
He slowly raised a hand and drew a finger across his throat in a gesture brimming with provocation.
"Kill!"
The next moment, he shot forward, his Curved Saber sweeping wide.
"CRACK!"
An awful, grinding crack echoed out. The man-high barricade erected to stop the refugees had been sliced in two by that single blow, as cleanly as if it were tofu.
The massive wooden barrier thundered to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.
