Volume 1 Chapter 6: The Black-Clad Assassin Reveals a Fatal Power

Lin Fan’s gaze was as sharp as a hawk’s, locked onto the figures in black before him. Every muscle in his body was coiled tight, like a leopard ready to pounce. He leaned slightly forward, his center of gravity lowered, and the veins on the back of the hand gripping his sword stood out, prepared to meet a torrential onslaught at any moment.

Xia Jiang clutched the corner of Lin Fan’s robe so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Her body trembled slightly—a manifestation of instinctive fear. Though she wanted to help, she knew her meager strength would only lead to her demise.

"Kill!" the leader of the men in black commanded in a low voice, a death warrant issued by the Grim Reaper.

Sharp blades traced cold arcs through the air, carrying the scent of death as they struck at Lin Fan without mercy. Lin Fan dared not show the slightest carelessness. He shifted his footwork rapidly, maneuvering through the narrow corridor while shielding Xia Jiang. The shadows of the blades formed an inescapable net, pursuing them relentlessly. Every time a blade sliced through the air, it emitted a sharp whistle, as if death itself were whispering in his ear.

Lin Fan dodged desperately through the flash of steel, feeling the icy touch of blades grazing his clothes—a chilling brush with death. The attacks grew fiercer, sweeping toward them like a violent storm, forcing Lin Fan back step by step until he was cornered. With his back against the cold wall and his path blocked by the men in black, he found himself in a desperate situation.

The sinister laughter of the attackers seemed to rise from the depths of hell, brimming with unconcealed triumph. Lin Fan’s breathing grew ragged, his chest heaving like a bellows.

Seeing Lin Fan trapped, Xia Jiang called out, "Brother Lin Fan..." Her voice trembled, but it was drowned out by the shrill screech of clashing steel. Watching him cornered, she was frantic with worry. She longed to rush forward, yet she understood she was nothing but a burden. Fear surged through her like a tide, nearly overwhelming her.

"Brother Lin Fan, watch out!" she shrieked. Her voice was thin and shaking, quickly swallowed by the cacophony of battle.

Lin Fan’s situation was precarious. He felt the rough, freezing stone wall pressing against his back, the texture causing a stinging sensation. Sweat trickled down his forehead and into his eyes, biting with salt. The cold, venomous gazes of the attackers felt like snakes, suffocating him. He could smell the metallic tang of blood in the air—the smell of death. He sensed the shadow of his end looming over him.

Yet, he did not give up. His eyes remained sharp, like an eagle about to strike. He gripped his sword tightly, drawing strength from the cold hilt—his final reliance. At this critical juncture, Lin Fan suddenly pulled a talisman from his robes.

This talisman was something he had stumbled upon by chance; he had kept it close ever since, never having used it. At this moment, it seemed to emit a faint glow, like a beacon in the darkness, offering him a glimmer of hope. He chanted under his breath, uttering obscure and difficult incantations that seemed to carry a mysterious power. The radiance on the talisman intensified until it erupted into a blinding light, like a miniature sun, illuminating the narrow corridor.

Caught off guard, the men in black were blinded by the sudden glare. Their movements faltered, and their weapons froze in mid-air. "What is this..." one of them exclaimed, his voice filled with shock and confusion.

A cold smirk played on Lin Fan’s lips. Seizing this fleeting opportunity, he ceased his retreat and went on the offensive. He let out a low shout, and the internal energy within him surged like a galloping river, forming a visible vortex of power around him. In the narrow passage, the air seemed to solidify as a powerful pressure emanated from Lin Fan, causing the men in black to tremble with trepidation.

"Raging Wave Palm!"

Lin Fan’s hands moved in a rapid seal. A pale blue light glowed from his palms, carrying the overwhelming force of a surging tide as he struck toward the men. The palm wind roared like waves crashing against a shore, creating a deafening boom. The pale blue energy transformed into sharp, phantom palm strikes, as dense as a rain of blossoms, instantly engulfing the men in black.

Unable to react in time, they were struck by the sudden onslaught. They let out miserable cries, their bodies sent flying back like kites with severed strings. They crashed heavily to the ground, vomiting blood, and were left unable to move.

Lin Fan stood his ground, his chest heaving violently, his clothes soaked with sweat. Though drained, a faint smile of victory graced his face. He looked at the talisman in his hand; its glow had dimmed, eventually turning to ash that scattered in the breeze.

Xia Jiang watched the scene unfold, stunned. She had never seen such immense power from Lin Fan; it was as if he had become a different person. "Brother Lin Fan, are... are you alright?" she asked cautiously, her voice still trembling.

Lin Fan turned to look at Xia Jiang and smiled. "I'm fine," he said. He brushed the dust from his clothes and walked over to the men in black. Scanning them with an icy gaze, he demanded, "Who sent you?"

The eyes of the men flickered, and they dared not meet his gaze. One of them gritted his teeth and replied, "We... we were just paid to do a job. We don't know who sent us..."

Lin Fan sneered. He knew they would not easily reveal the mastermind, but he had no intention of pressing them further. He turned to Xia Jiang and said, "Let's go."

Xia Jiang nodded and followed closely behind him, leaving the blood-soaked scene behind. Shortly after they departed, a dark figure appeared at the mouth of the alley. Seeing the carnage and the unconscious men, his face darkened with terrifying intensity.

"Trash! A bunch of trash!" he cursed under his breath, his tone filled with rage and killing intent.

"It seems I will have to handle this myself..."

Qian Ning’s face was livid. He crushed the delicate teacup in his hand, the shards piercing his palm. Crimson blood dripped through his fingers, blooming like wicked flowers on the floor. Upon learning that the assassins sent to kill Lin Fan had been wiped out, his fury boiled over, his chest heaving as if he might explode.

"Useless! All of them are useless!" he roared, his voice echoing through the room with chilling malice. He could not accept the result—a mere chore-duty disciple had escaped his meticulously laid trap. To him, this was an absolute humiliation. He stood up abruptly, his eyes narrowed and sinister, like a viper stalking its prey.

"Since you worthless fools can't get the job done, I will do it myself!" he snarled, his voice dripping with murderous intent. He would not allow anyone to challenge his authority, especially not a lowly disciple who dared to act arrogant in his presence. He would make Lin Fan pay; he would show him the price of crossing him.

Meanwhile, Lin Fan sensed that Qian Ning would not let the matter rest. He felt a dangerous aura permeating the air, like the stillness before a storm. Gripping his sword, his eyes were resolute, and his heart was on high alert. He knew a fierce battle was inevitable. He took a deep breath, centered himself, and circulated his internal energy to its limit, preparing for the fight. He understood that against a formidable foe like Qian Ning, he would have to give his all just to have a chance at survival.

Just then, the urgent tolling of a bell rang out across the Ancient Dao Sect, shattering the mountain's tranquility. The sound signaled an important event, requiring all disciples to assemble at the sect plaza immediately.

Both Lin Fan and Qian Ning were stunned; neither had expected such an event at this critical moment. This sudden turn of events made the already tense situation even more complex.

"What's happening?" Lin Fan frowned, filled with confusion. He had a vague feeling that this sudden incident might alter his destiny.

"The sect is summoning all disciples! Proceed to the plaza at once!" a booming voice echoed through the mountains, carrying unquestionable authority.

Lin Fan glanced at Xia Jiang and said in a low voice, "Let's go."

Qian Ning’s expression shifted uncertainly. He had intended to deal with Lin Fan personally, but it seemed he would have to set that plan aside for now.

"Lin Fan, you just wait!" Qian Ning gritted his teeth, his eyes burning with resentment. "You're lucky this time, but you won't be so fortunate next time!"

Lin Fan ignored the threat and turned toward the plaza. A disciple in a green robe hurried over to him, handed him a scroll, and said with a grave expression, "Senior Brother Lin, this is a task just issued by the sect. Please ensure you complete it."

Lin Fan took the scroll, opened it, and his expression changed drastically.