Chapter 472: The Resistance of Qingxi County III

But just at this moment, a sharp whistle sounded once again from behind the refugees.

The Red Lotus flags moved.

This time, the Red Lotus Sect members did not advance slowly like in the previous round. They mingled among the refugees, using the cover of the human tide to approach the gate tunnel silently.

By the time the militiamen behind the shield wall realized something was wrong, the first row of Red Lotus Sect members had already rushed to the front of the shield wall.

These were all Martial Dao experts of the Red Lotus Sect; the lowest were at the Lian Xue Realm, and some were even at the Refining Bone Realm.

The refugees charged and killed, while the experts waited for the right moment to act.

As long as they broke through the current situation, the subsequent defense of the city wall would be like a flood, unstoppable by anyone.

In the past, they had used this same strategy.

Their long blades were completely different from the refugees' hoes—hoes would slide off when hitting a shield, but long blades would not.

The sharp blades found the seams between the shields and slashed in diagonally; a spearman could not pull his hand back in time, and three fingers were sliced off cleanly.

He let out a miserable scream, his long spear slipped from his hand, and a gap in firepower immediately appeared in the shield wall.

The Red Lotus Sect members were very clever. They did not confront the shield wall head-on, but specifically targeted the seams, the gaps, and the weak points where the shields and spears coordinated.

Their Blade Technique could not be considered exquisite, but it excelled in being fast, ruthless, and accurate; every strike was aimed at killing, with no wasted movement.

The shield wall began to show its first real breach.

A shield-bearer was struck in the neck by a long blade, blood sprayed over a foot high, and he fell backward.

The shield in his hand fell, the people beside him could not fill the gap in time, and two Red Lotus Sect members rushed in through this breach simultaneously, their long blades flying left and right, instantly cutting down two more spearmen.

The shield formation exploded.

The moment the breach burst open, Wei Zhuang's Sword was already unsheathed.

No one saw how he moved. A moment ago, he was still standing five paces behind the shield wall, his hands behind his back, his posture as casual as if he were watching a game of chess.

The next moment, he had already appeared directly in front of the breach, and his right hand, which had been resting on the hilt, had swung out at some unknown time; the sword light drew a cold, white rainbow in the dim gate tunnel.

The first Red Lotus Sect member to rush into the breach was raising his blade to strike, the edge only three inches away from the throat of a fallen spearman.

Then his movements suddenly stiffened—not because he was blocked by a shield, not because he was pierced by a spear, but because a thin red line extended from the center of his forehead down to his chin, as precise as if measured with a ruler.

The mask split in two and slid off, revealing a face full of coarse flesh, the expression still frozen in the ferocity of the kill, but the eyes were already empty.

He swayed twice, the long blade in his hand dropped to the ground with a "clang," and he lunged forward, never moving again.

Only then did blood begin to seep from that red line.

One strike to kill, so fast that the blood didn't even have time to flow.

The second Red Lotus Sect member reacted extremely quickly. Almost instinctively, he abandoned his target, kicked off the ground, and swept backward like a dark red bat, while his long blade danced a screen of blades in front of him—this was a life-saving move, both offensive and defensive.

In the Red Lotus Sect, only Martial Artists who had stepped into the Refining Bone Realm could execute such a dense defensive move.

"Red Lotus Dance."

The sound of the blades cutting through the air was shrill and piercing; the torches in the gate tunnel were all dimmed by the blade wind.

The purpose of this strike was not to kill, but to protect himself.

He had already realized that this young man in white hair and black clothes in front of him was not someone he could deal with alone.

He needed to retreat, to retreat outside the shield wall, to retreat back into the ranks of the Red Lotus Sect members, and regroup to charge again.

But Wei Zhuang did not give him the chance to retreat.

The sword light chased after him.

It was not a slash, not a thrust, but an arc-shaped strike, sweeping diagonally from the lower right to the upper left, the angle devious to the extreme.

The sword edge cut into the only gap in the blade screen—that was the blind spot that inevitably appeared on the inside of the wrist when the hilt turned, less than half an inch wide, and fleeting.

But Wei Zhuang's Sword slipped into this half-inch blind spot, as if the sword itself had found the way.

The Red Lotus Sect member's eyes widened sharply. He saw his right hand—the one holding the blade—severed at the wrist, flying away along with the long blade.

The severed hand flipped twice in the air and landed on the corpse of a refugee, the five fingers still maintaining the posture of holding the blade.

He didn't even have time to scream.

Because the second sword strike had already arrived, piercing between the third and fourth ribs of his left chest, penetrating his heart, exiting through his back, and the tip of the sword pinned him to the earthen wall behind him.

The Red Lotus Sect member looked down at the fatal wound on his chest, his lips moved a few times as if saying something, but only blood foam welled up.

His body twitched twice, then went limp, hanging on the sword like a cloth bag drained of its stuffing.

From the breach bursting open to the two Red Lotus Sect experts being killed, it took no more than three breaths.

A strange silence fell over the gate tunnel. The refugees were still outside the gate, but those in the first few rows had witnessed everything that had just happened, and their footsteps stopped in unison.

The Red Lotus Sect members stopped even more thoroughly—several of them even subconsciously took a step back, their long blades held horizontally in front of them, their eyes under their masks staring fixedly at the white-haired young man standing in the middle of the pile of corpses.

An expert of the Lian Xue Realm had not lasted a single move before him.

An expert of the Refining Bone Realm, under full defense, had his wrist severed and his heart pierced by a single sword strike, without even a chance to escape.

This was no longer a matter of high or low skill. This was an abyss, an abyss that made every Martial Artist present feel despair.

"He, he is a Martial Artist of the Organ Refining Realm."

"Quick, quickly report to the Lord."