Chapter 198: Chapter 126: Demon Sword Purple Nether (2)

What the monk didn’t know was that Fang Shuwen was unfamiliar with the title "Killing Ascetic" simply because he hadn’t had a chance to ask for a name during their last encounter.

The Ascetic Monk from a moment ago was none other than the Great Monk who had entered Flying Snow City alongside Fang Shuwen and his companions that day.

He had indeed approached with malicious intent; the killing aura about him was unmistakable.

But the moment he saw Fang Shuwen, he had turned and fled without a second thought.

Back in Flying Snow City, Fang Shuwen had killed Shangguan Ying with three palm strikes right before his eyes. Even now, the memory of that scene haunted his nightmares, leaving him with ice-cold hands and feet.

Seeing him again today, whatever purpose or plan the monk had, it all vanished like smoke.

’With that man around, nothing is possible!’

’If things go south, I might even be sent to the Western Heaven to meet Buddha Tathagata myself.’

And though he was a man of the cloth, he had no intention of meeting Buddha so soon. So he turned and left, pretending he had never come.

Fang Shuwen didn’t know what the Killing Ascetic was thinking. He merely glanced silently at Lin Fan before quickly looking away.

He turned and started chatting with Boss Geng about the Killing Ascetic.

On this topic, Boss Geng became animated, vividly recounting how he had once encountered the Ascetic Monk in the Jianghu and witnessed him killing someone.

His tale was so captivating that both Shui Qianrou and Fang Lingxin were listening with rapt attention.

Lin Fan remained cold and detached, while Fang Shuwen sighed.

The Killing Ascetic wasn’t the only trouble tonight. A second wave was already closing in.

After about the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, Boss Geng, who had been in the middle of his animated story, suddenly fell silent.

Shui Qianrou instinctively asked:

"And then what happened?"

Fang Lingxin looked on with curiosity as well.

But Boss Geng paid them no mind. He waved a hand dismissively, his expression turning cautious as he scanned the surrounding darkness. Then, he barked in a low voice:

"On guard!"

The guards around him immediately scrambled to their feet. As they looked around, they saw figures emerging from the darkness.

Seeing them, Boss Geng felt an urge to curse.

’What in the world is going on tonight?’

’First, the Killing Ascetic shows up and gives me a fright, and now, where did all these people pop out from?’

But their clothes were identical to those of the villagers from the place they had just left.

He instantly understood!

’They’re the strangers who were hiding in the village earlier.’

’Did this bunch really follow us?’

Shopkeeper Sun quickly stood up, a placating smile on his face.

"Gentlemen, are you perhaps also traveling this road?

"We have plenty of food and drink. Why don’t you..."

He couldn’t finish his sentence.

A saber was already at his throat.

"This has nothing to do with you. Don’t be a busybody, or... you’ll pay with your life."

Shopkeeper Sun was stunned. ’Why don’t I understand what’s happening?’

’They came to rob us, so how can it have nothing to do with me?’

’Didn’t this group gather here for the goods in my wagons?’

Just as he was pondering this, a cold sneer came from the crowd.

"Lin Fan... hand over the sword, and we’ll spare your life!"

As the words rang out, the already chilling killing intent in the air surged.

Shopkeeper Sun and Boss Geng finally snapped out of their confusion. ’This group is here for Lin Fan?’

Boss Geng couldn’t help but shoot an angry glare at Shopkeeper Sun. If this damned fatso hadn’t insisted on adding people to their group, they wouldn’t be in this mess tonight.

Shopkeeper Sun waved his hands repeatedly, his face a mask of innocence.

Meanwhile, Lin Fan had already risen to his feet and taken a step forward.

"If you want the sword, come and take it yourself."

"You’re courting death!"

The man who had just threatened Shopkeeper Sun with a saber lunged forward, swinging his weapon.

Lin Fan twisted his body slightly. The saber grazed past the tip of his nose—a hair’s breadth from disaster. Yet, his expression remained unchanged as he used the momentum to drive a fist into the man’s ribs.

With a dull THUD, the man was sent stumbling backward.

Having landed a blow, Lin Fan gave no quarter. He pressed his advantage, his fists a blur as every strike aimed for a vital point.

The man’s Saber Technique was not to be underestimated, however, and in the blink of an eye, he was trading blows with Lin Fan.

Fang Shuwen watched, dumbfounded. ’He’d heard Fang Lingxin say Lin Fan was her savior, a master of Martial Arts. But now that he was seeing it for himself... this was it?’

’This could hardly be called "masterful"...’

From his perspective, with his level of Martial Arts, the fight before him was no different from children roughhousing.

He turned to Fang Lingxin, who was watching the fight with rapt attention.

"That’s a sword on his back, isn’t it? What kind of sword attracts this much trouble?"

Fang Lingxin blinked.

"I don’t know..."

"You’ve never seen it?"

"Never."

Fang Lingxin replied absently, her eyes fixed on the fight. Suddenly, her expression changed, and she couldn’t help but shout in anger:

"What are you doing? Ganging up on him like this—is that how honorable men behave?"

It was because the man with the saber, unable to gain the upper hand, had signaled for the others to join in.

Lin Fan was now attacked from all sides. His offense faltered, and he was forced into a clumsy, desperate defense.

Hearing Fang Lingxin’s outcry, Lin Fan suddenly roared:

"What does this have to do with you!? We have nothing to do with each other, so stop meddling!"

Having said his piece, he turned back to his opponents and roared:

"You all want the sword? Fine... I’ll give you a sword!"

With those words, he swung his arms, forcing back the two men in front of him. In a fluid motion, he spun and dropped to one knee. He threw his arms wide and with a sudden jolt, the sound of tearing cloth ripped from his back. It was followed by a sharp CLANG as a streak of purple light shot into the air.

Someone in the crowd shouted:

"The Purple Nether Sword!"

"That’s the one!"

"That sword will be mine!"