Twin Dimension Yin-Yang Mirror: Attaining immortality through the martial path-Chapter 823 - 637 Thousand Faces Tower + - 638 Ghost Cry Forest

Chapter 823: Chapter 637 Thousand Faces Tower + Chapter 638 Ghost Cry Forest

Zeng Heihu’s heart was filled with shock.

Standing closer to the spearman, he could clearly see just how strange and swift that arrow was. A sudden chill gripped his heart, and amid a hoarse roar, he flailed his Black Gold Mace in a watertight defense. Instead of advancing, his body recoiled, retreating backward at high speed.

In an instant, he had retreated more than ten yards. Seeing himself nearly at the bottom of the slope, he didn’t even bother to signal his mountain bandits but prepared to flee outright.

This man’s ability to seize an opportunity was remarkable. When he opened his mouth to unleash a tiger-like roar, his imposing momentum caused even the wielders of the Yin Yang Sword and the Four Seasons Saber to ready their defenses, only for them to see him flee into the distance before they could react. freewebnoveℓ.com

"To try and escape now—it’s already too late."

Zhou Ping’an let out a soft laugh, his clear voice cutting through all the commotion. But even faster than his speech was a shimmering, faintly red blood-colored shadow.

The shadow was swift as lightning, barely appearing in the crowd’s vision before it had already reached Zeng Heihu’s back.

Bang...

A thunderous, explosive sound shattered the air in its wake.

It sounded like the vibration of a bowstring or perhaps the whistle of an arrow splitting the air...

Zeng Heihu’s eyes widened like copper bells as he roared madly, dancing his mace in a frenzied rhythm. Yet deep within, a heavy dread sank.

Because he discovered that this arrow, as fast as thunder and lightning, was capable of turning mid-flight. Just as it was about to collide with his Black Gold Mace, it gracefully curved in a near-imperceptible arc and darted behind him.

He didn’t have time to turn around. With expert timing, he twisted his torso and swung his mace in an overhead slash, wielding it as though it were a saber.

Though Zeng Heihu’s turning speed was astonishing, the arrow’s trajectory was even faster. Arcing in a wide circle, it shot through the left side of his desperate mace defense...

Thud...

The arrow pierced through his left temple, burrowing through his skull and exiting the right temple, dragging a long stream of Blood Beads in its wake.

Zeng Heihu’s rotating body, carried by inertia, spun another half-circle before his lifeless eyes dimmed, and with a dull thud, he collapsed onto the ground. His body twitched twice before lying still.

"Fortress Chief."

Cries of anguish erupted from all directions.

The mountain bandits of Lying Tiger Village lost their fighting spirit and scattered in panic, fearing to linger lest they fall prey to the Zhao Family’s pursuit.

It proved true that chasing fleeing enemies was far easier and more efficient than clashing head-on.

The Four Seasons Saber and his companions pursued the bandits for two to three miles, slaughtering the remnants until the fleeing forces were reduced to nearly nothing. Only seven or eight black-clad men managed to escape on horseback.

"Young Master Zhou, your masterful archery is truly divine. If not for your timely intervention earlier, we would have surely perished here. Your great kindness and favor..."

After the chase ended, Mr. Yu returned to the Mountain God Temple filled with elation. He gazed at Zhou Ping’an as if looking at a deity.

By now, the slight sting of humiliation from being forced to kneel before Zhou’s blade on that day had entirely dissipated, replaced by profound gratitude.

To exchange blows with such an expert and emerge alive was not a disgrace but an honor instead.

"Thank you, sir."

Peng Qiuyan supported the wounded He Sixi, while Zhang Qing and Chang Hong aided their severely injured brothers, with sorrow etched across their faces as they stepped forward to express their thanks.

In the crisis earlier, had Zhou Ping’an’s arrow not struck precisely in time, all of them would’ve met their end here.

A debt of life-saving grace cannot be taken lightly.

Zhou Ping’an waved his hand dismissively. "We’ve weathered storms together and supported each other—there’s no need to stand on formalities."

He reached for the long zither box by his side, partially lifted the lid, and slid his striking golden-red bow inside. "If I hadn’t prepared arrows in advance, today would’ve truly been perilous."

Indeed, back at the Zhao Family estate, he had already instructed the steward to pack the long zither box as if carrying it as luggage. Naturally, it wasn’t meant for an instrument but rather to disguise the items he took from his spatial store.

When retrieving items unknown to others, claiming one’s speed obscured the act was always a better explanation than conjuring them from thin air.

As he spoke, Zhou Ping’an cast a glance at Xia Yiming and the other severely injured men, sighing. "Don’t worry—this young master is skilled in medicine. Brother Xia will survive."

The moment he finished speaking, he pulled out a Silver Needle, just as the injured guards were carried toward them outside.

A house servant, his body smeared with blood, suddenly raised his head, reaching into his chest with his right hand, where a burst of dazzling light suddenly blossomed.

"Watch out..."

The gray-clothed servant’s face twisted as madness filled his eyes. The rain of needles in his hand erupted like a bloom of pear flowers.

Peng Qiuyan, closest to him, could barely utter half a warning.

The others, quick to react, felt their hair stand on end but had no time to lift a hand.

Light and shadow surged, spilling toward Zhou Ping’an and the eight children at his side.

The surprise attack came swift and sudden.

Just as their vision blurred, a metallic cry echoed in their ears.

Clang...

A Sword Light glinting azure burst forth abruptly in front of them.

The countless glimmering needles were scattered by that azure light before condensing into a stream of glittering trails.

Whoosh...

The servant who had unleashed the Rain Pear Blossom Needle leaped back only three feet.

But this stream of light pierced through his brow.

With a thud, he collapsed to the ground.

"That was the Rain Pear Blossom Needle..."

Only now did Peng Qiuyan manage to finish her sentence.

The sound of swords being unsheathed rang out in unison around them.

"Ah!"

Yet the group quickly realized that Zhou Ping’an had already returned his blade to its scabbard.

From drawing his sword to executing a lethal strike, deflecting the needles, and countering the ambush—all in one seamless flow—it was shockingly fast, leaving them unable even to catch a glimpse of his blade.

Peng Qiuyan and the others were utterly dumbfounded, shaken to the core, rendered speechless.

Imagining that such a strike might be directed at themselves, they realized with chilling certainty that their heads would be gone before they could react.

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