bdsm-fiction Chapter 158 Taking the Initiative!
Chapter 158 Taking the Initiative!
He glanced sideways at Lin Tian's calm profile, a chill running through him: "Sir... could he truly be a deity descended to earth? Otherwise, how could such power be wielded by a mortal?"
The people of Zilanxuan gathered around Lin Tian, facing off against the eight dark figures on the opposite rooftop, their tension palpable.
"This is... sword intent?" The person in the center wore a bamboo hat with a veil hanging down, and was dressed in black. The cold light of the two swords on his back was faintly visible. His voice was cold and hard, but he could not hide the slight disorder in his breathing and the tightness in his tone.
Lin Tian suddenly smiled: "That's the artistic conception. And this—"
His figure blurred abruptly, and before the afterimage had faded, he had already darted behind his opponent like lightning. The sword, Yuanhong, was drawn silently, its cold blade already pressed against the man's neck, the chill piercing his flesh. With a slight twist of his wrist, the man in the straw hat collapsed to the ground, lifeless.
"No need to state your name, you are merely one of the Eight Exquisite Ones. Why would I need a reason to kill you?" Lin Tian's fingertips slowly traced the spine of the sword, his voice as calm as snow falling into a deep pool.
Silence reigned. Only the heart-wrenching wails of ghosts could be heard, each breath held so softly that no one dared disturb the deathly stillness.
Shocking! Such power...it's terrifying!
Under the shadow of death, all those whose gazes were locked on stood frozen like stones, as if their souls had been gripped by death, leaving only a wisp of breath, doomed to perish.
Ying Zheng's lips curled slightly, while Gai Nie and Wei Zhuang simultaneously gripped their sword hilts, their knuckles turning white!
This is a true powerhouse—a powerhouse that leaves others breathless with oppression!
"Let's do it!"
The other seven members of the Eight Linglong group never expected that their companion would perish in the blink of an eye, not even having time to blink, let alone come to their rescue.
At a command, seven figures suddenly moved swiftly, their movements as unpredictable as ghosts, instantly surrounding Lin Tian in an impenetrable formation.
The blood moon hung in the sky, the world was gloomy, and even the wind seemed to freeze—for the first time, a chill ran through Ba Linglong's heart.
They tried to retreat hastily, but their path was abruptly cut off by a dense, oppressive white fog. For the first time in their lives, they had encountered an opponent they could not control. They wanted to turn around and fight back, but now they only felt a tightness in their throats and cold sweat soaking their backs—a long-lost despair was creeping up their spines inch by inch.
Lin Tian stood with his hands behind his back, his sword sheath resting diagonally on his shoulder. His gaze slowly swept over the seven figures that were closing in on him. They were none other than the Eight Linglong, who were famous throughout the martial arts world.
When his gaze settled on that cold and aloof figure, he suddenly smiled: "Li Wu, you're lucky. When I first arrived in this world, I established a rule: do not harm the old, weak, women, or children. You are a woman, so I will give you a way out—submit to me, join the Flowing Sands, and reside in the Purple Orchid Pavilion."
Li Wu was dressed in black, her figure slender yet graceful, her brows and eyes clear and exquisite yet shrouded in a chilling aura; her eyes were like stars in the dark night, and a vermilion flower on her forehead burned like blood. Her fingertips lightly held a white jade flute, silent and still.
If Yan Lingji is a dazzling and alluring beauty consumed by flames, then she is a chillingly seductive beauty with a hidden edge of ice.
The only young woman among the Eight Linglong – as for why not "the only woman"? Because there is also an old woman in the team who is skilled in using strange poisons, hunched over and thin, with undried bluish-black medicine stains on her cuffs.
Lin Tian's gaze shifted, now fixed on the old woman: "You must have already spread poison when you climbed the tower, right? Too bad, no poison can get near me. Old woman, I won't take your life. Go back to the mountains and retire as soon as possible."
Another boy in the group, with a youthful face, clutched a serrated short hook in his hand, his eyes as sinister as a viper's hiss. Lin Tian stared coldly at him: "Although you are young, your methods are ruthless and vicious, and you are no longer among those who are 'not to be killed'."
He shrugged, his tone tinged with a self-deprecating helplessness: "My fellow dying men, don't blame me for being picky—when I kill, I always choose carefully and act decisively."
Why be so picky when killing someone? Did you even ask if the victim wanted to die? Lin Tian didn't ask, nor did he bother to—that's the confidence of a strong person.
What do the Eight Linglong think? That's a question for them to answer.
Those watching downstairs, including Ying Zheng and Han Fei, felt a chill run down their spines and their brows furrowed slightly.
Is this still the Lin Tianyao they know?
Zi Nu covered her lips and chuckled softly, her eyes brimming as she looked at the person trapped on the rooftop. Far from being worried, a gentle smile appeared in her eyes.
Han Fei turned his head and chuckled to Zhang Liang, "Brother Lin's temperament... at least he's not a butcher who bullies the weak and indiscriminately kills the innocent."
Zhang Liang nodded, his eyes full of admiration: "Not bound by appearances of good and evil, letting go when necessary and making decisions when necessary; knowing when to advance and retreat, understanding advantages and disadvantages, and being decisive—just this demeanor alone is enough to make you a commander of the three armies."
Ying Zheng replied in a deep voice, "I believe that Han Fei and Zhang Liang are the reincarnations of Guan Zhong."
Han Fei and Zhang Liang understood each other perfectly—this refers to Lin Tian's extraordinary talent in understanding the intricacies of the world and judging the overall situation as clearly as reading the lines on the palm of one's hand, which not only amazes people but also wins their hearts.
"Murder... and you're still picking and choosing?" A clear, cold voice rang out, its tone pleasant but seemingly covered with a thin layer of frost, devoid of any warmth.
Li Wu spoke. Lin Tian's gaze fell upon her as she slowly brought the jade flute to her lips. He immediately reminded her, "Li Wu, think it over carefully—if you use music to disturb my mind, there will be no turning back today. At that time, don't blame me for being ruthless and cruel."
Li Wu paused, her fingertips still for a moment, then fell silent.
The old woman beside him let out a strange, cackling laugh, her voice like a dull knife scraping bone: "When the Eight Linglongs make their move, there are never any survivors—this applies to their prey as well as themselves. Even if you are powerful, you may not truly be immune to all poisons."
The boy gripped the short hook tightly, his fangs slightly bared, biting down on Lin Tian like a hungry wolf that had caught the scent of blood.
The others also composed themselves, their faces hardening – knowing they were outmatched, they were determined to fight to the death.
"Good! Brilliant! Good that he wouldn't listen to advice; brilliant that he chose his own path to ruin!"
Lin Tian flicked his wrist, and Yuanhong was drawn half an inch from its sheath. The tip of the sword drew a silver arc and rang out with a long, clear sound, like a dragon's roar splitting the sky.
With a sudden flash of sword light, the eight Linglongs no longer waited passively for an opportunity, but launched a sudden and fierce attack—this time, they wanted to strike first!
The enemy's momentum was overwhelming, and all seven knew that any further hesitation would likely lead them to suffer the same fate as their companion—dying on the spot. Therefore, without waiting for the enemy to make a move, they launched their own attack!
The flute melody suddenly rose, sharp as a knife, seemingly capable of slicing open the heart and piercing the depths of the soul. A heartbreaking tune flowed from Li Wu's fingers, mournful to the bone. Those who heard it felt their hearts tighten, their eyes welled up, as if they were being dragged back to their most painful old dreams. Even the hand holding the sword began to tremble, and the thought of committing suicide arose.
Before the flute music had even faded, the poisonous fog had already arrived. Wisps of purple smoke billowed out, emitting a pungent, fishy stench. Wherever it passed, the blue bricks turned black, the wooden beams hissed and emitted white smoke, and even the roof tiles were silently eroded.
The eight acrobats moved in unison, their movements as unpredictable as ghosts, their swords aimed precisely at blind spots—slashing diagonally at the ribs, thrusting backward at the neck, slashing at the throat with a backhand… each move ruthless and leaving no room for error. Even more terrifying was their coordinated movement, a seamless unity: no matter which direction you dodged, a cold glint of light would inevitably strike your vital points from an unexpected angle.
Li Wu's flute music disturbed his mind, and the old woman's poisonous mist corroded iron and bones; the killing moves that followed were even more insidious, with sword tips, needles in sleeves, tripping ropes underfoot, and poison-laden palm winds all aimed at Lin Tian's vital points!
"Concentrate and guard your mind; the flute's melody is poisonous!"
At Gai Nie's sharp shout, everyone in Zi Lan Xuan held their breath and channeled their inner energy, gritting their teeth to resist the piercing, bone-deep sorrow.