The forest was deathly quiet.
Jiang Feng moved through the trees like a shadow, his wounds barely a memory. The Sword Demon's technique had worked—his body still ached, but the pain was dull, distant. It didn't matter.
All that mattered was the hunt.
Ahead, dim firelight flickered through the trees. The scent of roasted meat mixed with the stench of unwashed bodies. Jiang Feng crept closer, crouching behind a fallen log as he observed his prey.
Five men sat around a campfire, laughing and drinking. Their weapons—rusty sabers and chipped daggers—were carelessly strewn about. They weren't warriors. Just bandits, the lowest scum of the martial world.
Jiang Feng grinned. This was going to be fun.
He stepped forward, kicking a loose stone. It clattered loudly.
The bandits snapped their heads up.
"Who's there?" one of them growled, gripping his saber.
Jiang Feng stepped into the firelight, his tattered clothes still stained with dried blood. He cracked his knuckles, his grin widening. "Just a lost traveler."
The leader, a burly man with a scar across his nose, smirked. "Wrong place to be lost, boy." He nudged his men. "Look at him—probably some beggar. Let's gut him and take whatever he's got."
Jiang Feng sighed. "That's it? No threats? No big speech?" He rolled his neck. "You guys are boring."
The bandits frowned.
"Kill him," the leader spat.
The first bandit lunged, swinging his saber. Slow. Predictable.
Jiang Feng didn't dodge. He stepped into the attack, twisting his body at the last moment. The blade grazed his shoulder—just enough to draw blood.
The bandit grinned. "Got y—"
Jiang Feng's fist caved in his throat.
The man collapsed, choking on his own blood.
Silence.
Then—
"You little shit!" Another bandit charged, dagger raised.
Jiang Feng laughed. This one had some fire. He sidestepped, grabbed the bandit's wrist, and wrenched it back with a sickening snap. The dagger fell. Jiang Feng caught it and drove it into the man's gut.
He twisted the blade.
The bandit howled, eyes wide with terror.
Jiang Feng leaned in, whispering, "Not fun, is it?"
The light in the man's eyes faded.
Jiang Feng turned to the others, wiping the dagger clean on his sleeve. "Two down." His grin widened. "Who's next?"
The remaining three hesitated.
Jiang Feng sighed. "Come on. Don't make me chase you."
The leader cursed. "Screw this! Kill him together!"
The last three rushed him at once.
Jiang Feng's eyes gleamed.
Finally.
The first swung high—Jiang Feng ducked. The second stabbed low—he sidestepped. The third aimed for his back—he twisted, grabbing the man's wrist and driving his own dagger into his throat.
Blood sprayed.
Jiang Feng pivoted, kicking another bandit in the chest, sending him crashing into the fire. The smell of burning flesh filled the air.
Only the leader remained.
He trembled, stepping back. "W-Wait! We can talk about this!"
Jiang Feng tilted his head. "Talk?" He sighed. "You see, that's the problem with you weaklings. The moment you realize you're going to die, you start begging."
The leader turned to run.
Jiang Feng blurred forward.
One strike.
A single punch caved in the man's chest.
The bandit leader gasped, blood pouring from his lips. He collapsed, twitching, then fell still.
Jiang Feng exhaled. The thrill was fading. That was the only downside of weak opponents.
Too quick. Too easy.
He clicked his tongue. "No torture, no screaming, no fun… This sucks."
He turned toward the darkness of the forest, stretching his arms.
Time to return to his master.