The grey gloom of the early winter morning loomed over the drab western hills. There was a chill in the air, bringing a sharp bite of cold to the crisp morning breeze.
Elder Zhang Yi was having a fit of rage, losing his temper like a spoiled brat denied.
Only coming back to his senses when he heard the metallic clangs of the hefty great sword skipping across the ground, shovelling snow to the sides as it came to rest.
Everything went silent.
Zhang Yi looked down from his buckling horse to see his nephew sprawled in the snow, unmoving.
Blood rushed to his head, he hoped the talented boy was just playing possum to spring a surprise attack....
Anytime now he'll vault into action, the boy has always been a clever lad, he must be waiting for the enemy to drop their guard so he can inflict maximum damage.
Wild optimistic thoughts raced through Zhang Yi's mind, but...
Nothing happened..
His nephew just laid there, face in the snow, his black armour trimmed with gold standing out vividly on the cushion of white.
The smooth layer of snow from earlier was now filled with scattered pock marks and footsteps.
Even an idiot would realise the boy was dead.
Zhang Yi pointed a trembling accusatory finger at Qin Li and shouted.
"Brazen! You are too brazen! ... Good. Good. Good." Unable to find words he repeated himself thrice, nostrils flaring like an enraged bull and the cruelty in his eyes sparkling like a flame freshly kindled.
"Kill them all." He bawled at the two remaining men by his side.
"I want everyone in this slum killed! Kill them! Kill them all!"
Zhang Yi was hysterical... almost on the brink of madness.
Elder Choi, the man dressed in a red robe, abandoned his flustered mount along with the other armoured man, rushing forward throwing up a flurry of snow.
Fu Qian and the security team knew this was a fight they couldn't meddle in.
Scrambling back through the opening of the small gate, falling over each other to get inside.
Managing to slam the mini gate shut just in the nick of time. There was a boom outside, the metal gate rattled.
More booms echoed out from the western hills, those nobles who heard from a far thought the western hills was about to switch owners.
Especially nobles from the flat lands of the west, they were delighted, the bane of their existence was finally going to be removed.
Power erupted from Zhang Yi, he pushed his 9th layer xiantian cultivation to the limit.
Fuelled by anger and hatred he pounced towards Qin Li, bounding through the air wrapped in a streak of bright yellow flames, determined to kill every single person in the western hills.
A flash of bright light spectacularly illuminated the grey morning. Fire ignited the snow itself, The path under Zhang Yi kept spitting dirt, smoke and steam into the air.
The abandoned horses were instantly decapitated by the blazing debris, flashing splatters of scarlet gore all over the snow.
The infuriated man rifled towards his target. Hartley blinked into existence beside Qin Li, casually applying a pocket of gravity to jerk the flaming missile from the sky, bringing him crashing back down to earth like a rocket.
Boom!
A shower of dirt and snow went flying, the flames extinguished with a sizzle, transforming into a ball of steam that kept rising.
Cries and gasps, curses and prayers, all could be heard from the archers atop the wall. They held on for dear life as the walls shook and the gate rattled. All they could do was hope for a quick victory.
"What the?"
Elder Choi was startled, first by the way Zhang Yi kamikazied head-first into the frozen ground.
Secondly by the pretty red hair woman dressed in white, she moved so elegantly and quick across the ground, it was like a hummingbird gliding through the air.
Her every step brought the snow under her feet alive with wavy ripples that pushed her forward.
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Zhi Ruo moved adeptly to intercept the approaching elder. Her two 8 inch silver blades held downward and glistening.
Not giving it much thought, elder Choi's long sword appeared in his right hand.
His skin turned stone-like with a brown glow covering his body as if cursed by Medusa, he then executed a series of blistering attacks, designed to overwhelm and kill. His sword seeming to blur out of sight and reappear at will.
This was a high level skill used by vanguards to cut down multiple people in a frontal assault.
With her loose red hair fluttering across her forehead, Zhi Ruo performed a series of sways and sidesteps like a ballet dancer, her robe whipping around her body while skillfully dodging every strike in phantom-like fashion.
Zhi Rio ended the sequence with a perfect parry.
Sparks flew out as sword and dagger clashed with a clang.
She twisted her wrist with accurate timing, moving her blade quickly at an angle, deflecting the sword strike away to the right with her right-handed dagger.
Countering with a lightning-fast slash of her left-handed blade from mid-right to mid-left.
Even though they were both in the 8th layer of the xiantian realm. The two were on different levels in reality, Zhi Ruo had been conditioned by the pocket dimension, her battle experience was leaps and bounds ahead.
She exploited his weakness and capitalised on every opening, her move was ruthless and efficient.
The back-handed strike was so fast that all elder Choi saw was a white line streak across his vision.
There was a boom as the rank 6 spirit weapon ripped through his stone defence like paper.
Elder Choi jerked as if struck by lightning, stumbling back with disbelief. He felt warmth on his stomach from one side to the other.
Releasing his sword onto the snow, he clutched at his midriff with both hands, scared to even look down.
The red haired beauty was already departing the scene, no longer concerned with the outcome of the battle.
Elder Choi tried to force the slimy organs back into his stomach but couldn't. He finally looked down and saw his entrails plopping to the floor like noodles with too much sauce.
Staining his feet and the snow around it red.
He managed to gasp out a horrific shriek of doom. His last offering to the world, the white of the ground raced up to meet his face as he keeled over next to his sword with his blood colouring the ice around him.
Zhang Yi emerged staggering from a crater bloodied and confused. Pain causing him to gasp and wince, he had at least a half dozen shattered ribs while coughing up blood every few seconds from a punctured lung.
He witnessed the final armoured man fleeing down the winding hill without looking back. His footsteps mashing through the snow sending flecks of white spraying.
The result of the battle spoke for itself, Zhang Yi looked around to see elder Choi left twisted and broken, the ice around him as red as a pool of blood, mercilessly dissected to death like an annoying insect.
The scene chilled him, plumes of smoke still rose to the grey skies across the capital, it was a day for the strong to show their strength and he wasn't one of the strong.
Forget killing everyone in the western hills, he would do well to escape with his life.
It puzzled him, he had been at the peak of the 9th layer for nearly two decades, how was he defeated so easily?
"So.... Are you going to slither down the hill or not?"
Hartley's voice bored into his ears, bringing him back to his current predicament.
The handsome young man walked slowly towards him. Every crunch of his footsteps felt like a hand squeezing his heart.
The ragged Zhang Yi took a deep breath to compose himself.
Something dawned on him, but how could it be? The boy was only in his twenties.
A Saint? A Domain?
Could he be? Zhang Yi thought internally.
"Our Patriarch is a saint, you think you can get away with this? Repent now and we might be able to come to an agreement. Are you truly trying to rebel against a saint?"
One by one archers and guards started to pop there heads over the wall to see the aftermath of the battle. Hushed discussions broke out, everyone proud of Hartley and glad the battle hadn't taken longer.
Hartley smiled again, "are you going to slither down the hill or not?"
Zhang Yi suddenly had an awful feeling, the young man didn't show a lick of fear for saints, it must be that by some miracle he is one, his aura showed no strength but was laced with mystery.
"Look Sir Hartley," Zhang Yi spoke with sweat beading down his forehead, desperation in his voice as he tried to sound respectful.
"We shouldn't have barged onto your property on a day like this, it might have given off the wrong message. I apologize for disturbing your rest so early in the morning. It was not my intent...."
A bright blue flash lit up the morning, two full length arms fell to the snow, blood squirting everywhere.
Zhang Yi looked at the handsome young man in shock, two beautiful blue elemental swords in his grasp, then looked at his own shoulders and saw nothing but a bleeding stumps, only to hear Hartley repeat the same question a third time.
This time Zhang Yi dived onto his stomach like a swimmer, using his legs to propel himself down the hill like a slug, leaving a long trail of red behind him.
"Seems like he didn't want to lose his legs as well, smart man." Said Hartley turning around and seeing Zhi Ruo's quizzical look.
"He'll survive, men like those are like cockroaches."
Hartley said heading back in with Zhi Ruo and Qin Li.
...
That night the western hills had another special visitor.
The wind blew by lifting the snow, fog was plentiful. Shadows flowed over the white night.
Hartley stepped from a spatial crack.
"Subtle is not one of your strengths is it."
Hartley heard the familiar voice and smiled bowing forward with respect.
"Elder, I should have come to see you before this."
Kang replied with laughter as usual.
"Don't worry, I hear you've been busy."
"Congratulations."
Kang said while nodding with pride.
"I was only lucky, thanks to you and your brother."
Kang waved his hand nonchalantly, "its all your hard work."
"Lets talk.. I think you are likely to get a visit from the Patriarch of House of Smiths soon."
Hartley looked ppuzzled. Then showed Kang into the manor