After the brief street skirmish earlier, Xiao Feng casually continued wandering the small town, taking in the chaotic atmosphere. Nothing about this place felt new to him—filthy streets, ruthless people, the faint stench of blood lingering in the air. It was the Black-Corner Region, after all.
He explored for a short while, but the town was small, and there wasn't much worth his time. No valuable shops, no unique items, no powerful aura that sparked interest. Just another dusty outpost filled with desperate souls and weak thugs pretending to be kings.
So, he decided to leave.
Unbeknownst to most, far behind the scenes, an ally of the thugs he had beaten earlier had dragged their injured bodies to a nearby hideout, explaining what had happened.
Their faces were swollen and bruised, bones broken, egos shattered.
The gang's leader, a 7-Star Da Dou Shi, listened with an ugly expression. Their vice leader, a 4-Star Da Dou Shi, clenched his fists.
"A brat…? An eight-year-old brat did this to you?" the leader growled, glaring at the wounded men.
"He's not normal," one of them croaked. "Too fast… didn't even use a weapon…"
The leader spat on the floor. "I don't care who he is. No one humiliates my men and walks away."
---
By then, Xiao Feng was already outside the town, walking leisurely along a narrow trail carved between the dry hills. He had sensed them long before they made their move. Their clumsy attempts at stealth were laughable to someone like him.
He could feel them. Ten of them.
Eight Dou Shi. Two Da Dou Shi—one of them stronger than the other. Probably the leader and his right hand.
As expected, when the distance felt right, the ambush was sprung.
Figures burst out from behind rocks and trees, surrounding him in a circle.
"Heh, thought you could leave without paying the price, brat?" one of them sneered.
"Tch. That robe alone is worth more than our whole stash," said another.
The 7-Star Da Dou Shi leader stepped forward. His expression was grim, but confident. "I don't know who you are, kid, but beating up my men was a mistake."
"Don't bother begging," the vice leader added, pulling out a hooked blade crackling with black Dou Qi. "We're not letting you leave in one piece."
The moment he gave the signal, eight men unleashed their Dou Skills. Low to mid Black-Rank techniques exploded in all directions—blades, palm strikes, energy arcs.
But they hit nothing.
Xiao Feng blurred.
He weaved through the storm of attacks like a breeze through leaves. Shadow Gale Steps made him untouchable, untouchable, a ghost between them.
His figure flickered again—reappearing behind one Dou Shi. A palm slammed into the man's spine, sending him crashing face-first into the dirt.
A kick took out another. Then a chop. Then a punch to the throat.
He didn't even draw his sword.
His Dou Qi-enhanced fists and legs were more than enough.
In less than two minutes, only the leader and vice leader remained—watching in horror as the rest of their men groaned or lay unconscious on the ground.
"You little—!" the vice leader roared, raising his weapon.
But Xiao Feng raised one hand.
With a shimmer of light, six Dou Qi swords formed in the air beside him. Sharp. Swift. Deadly.
With a flick of his finger, they launched toward the vice leader.
"Defend—!" he screamed, erecting a Dou Qi barrier.
Too late.
The six swords shattered his Dou qi armor, pierced cleanly into his chest, shoulders, and throat. Blood sprayed as the man collapsed, unmoving.
The leader froze in place, mouth slightly open. Rage gave way to fear.
Xiao Feng condensed one last sword, this time in his hand. The blade pulsed with silent wind.
He vanished again, soundless.
"Wh—"
The leader never finished the word.
A silver-white streak passed by.
Silent Tempest Break.
His head separated cleanly from his body, rolling across the dirt. The wind gently carried the blood mist away as if cleansing the battlefield.
Xiao Feng stood calmly, the summoned sword vanishing from his hand.
He didn't loot the corpses.
He turned without a word and resumed walking, the wind whispering behind him.