182: Jing Wuming versus Ah Fei!

Shangguan Jinhong's face was not merely ashen; it also revealed an expression of unbelievable fury and an icy, frozen killing intent.

He had ruled the Golden Money Gang for many years, confident that he had honed his subordinates to be as extensions of his limbs, yet he never expected to encounter such blatant, large-scale betrayal within his most core hall, at the Peak of his prestige!

Moreover, those who betrayed him were the experts he relied on!

His gaze swept over Zhuge Gang and the other two like a cold bolt of lightning. The three either lowered their heads, looked away, or stared at the sky; not one met his gaze.

The oppressive Aura in his eyes still instinctively filled them with fear,

but compared to Lu Jiuyuan, who was within arm's reach and invincible in the Jianghu, that accumulated prestige seemed insufficient to guarantee their lives.

"Good, very good."

Shangguan Jinhong's voice was terrifyingly low, each word seemingly squeezed from between his teeth, carrying a bone-chilling coldness, "Zhuge Gang, Gao Xingkong, Yan Shuangfei... I treated you well."

Zhuge Gang bit the bullet and said in a deep voice, "Gang Leader... only those who recognize the times are true heroes. Our choice, your subordinates, is merely following the general trend. Since the Young Lord wants it, you should just give it to him."

"He wants it, so I must give it?" Shangguan Jinhong suddenly looked at Lu Jiuyuan, his eyes finally erupting with an unprecedented sharpness.

It was a sharpness of being completely enraged, desiring to destroy everything, "You damned brat! Do you think with these fair-weather friends, you can take everything from me?"

Lu Jiuyuan remained calm, looking at the group of people standing behind him and smiling softly, "They are not fair-weather friends; they merely made the most intelligent choice.

Old man, your era should come to an end."

"End?" Shangguan Jinhong slowly rose from the grand chair that symbolized the Peak of power.

As he stood up, that immense Aura, deep and unmoving as mountains, suddenly erupted fully, like a sleeping tiger baring its claws, instantly filling the entire hall, actually pushing back Lu Jiuyuan's cold Evil Qi by several degrees!

"The Golden Money Gang, which I built with my own fists, cannot be handed over in such a ridiculous manner!"

His gaze was fixed on Lu Jiuyuan, "You want the Golden Money Gang? Fine! Show me what you've got!

Let me see how much substance there is to your 'invincible in the Jianghu'!"

The moment his voice fell, Shangguan Jinhong's body surged with Qi, his dark golden robes rustling as they moved without wind.

The moment Shangguan Jinhong's voice fell, Jing Wuming moved.

He was like a grey phantom, drawn by Shangguan Jinhong's killing intent, pouncing towards Lu Jiuyuan without any warning!

There was no eye contact, no verbal command; Shangguan Jinhong's will was his only rule of action.

His sword also left its sheath as he moved.

It was a uniquely shaped sword, slightly narrow in the blade, yet its gleam carried a deathly grey, chilling light that made one's heart palpitate.

The sword's speed was incredibly fast; it wasn't a direct thrust but rather a strange arc, aimed straight at Lu Jiuyuan's throat,

vicious, tricky, devoid of any Life Qi, as if a summons from the netherworld.

This one Move perfectly demonstrated what a "killing sword" was!

However, A Fei, who stood to the left behind Lu Jiuyuan, also moved.

His movements were just as fast as Jing Wuming's!

The instant Jing Wuming's shoulder barely twitched, he had already blocked in front of Lu Jiuyuan, and the iron-sheet sword in his hand had already thrust out!

There was no whistling wind, no dazzling light, only the purest, simplest, most direct thrust!

Fast! Accurate! Ruthless!

The target was Jing Wuming's throat!

Attack for attack, life for life!

"Clang—!"

An extremely brief, sharp, and ear-piercing clang of metal exploded!

Two cold stars collided abruptly in the air, then separated just as abruptly.

Their figures touched and separated in an instant, each retreating half a step back, standing firm.

The first clash, a flash of lightning, an even match!

Inside the entire Caiyi Hall, everyone's hearts tightened, and their breathing stopped.

They hadn't even fully seen how the two drew their swords; they only saw blue and black shadows crisscrossing, heard that teeth-grinding screech, and then the two had already separated.

Fast! Too fast!

Was this the duel of top-tier swordsmen? Far beyond their imagination!

In Jing Wuming's deathly grey pupils, a subtle ripple seemed to pass, like a slight disturbance in still water.

He evidently hadn't expected this young man, who looked like a wild wolf, to be able to parry his deadly Move with such precision.

A Fei's gaze, however, remained pure and focused, even carrying a burning light, locked tightly onto Jing Wuming, as if a hunter had locked onto his strongest prey.

In his world, at this moment, there was only his opponent and the sword in his hand.

"Very good." Jing Wuming's voice was dry.

A Fei did not answer; his response was to thrust his sword forward again!

It was still that simple and direct Move, but faster, with more concentrated power, charging forward without hesitation!

Jing Wuming's body twisted strangely, as if boneless, narrowly avoiding the lightning-fast thrust. At the same time, his sword, like a venomous snake striking from its lair, slashed back at A Fei's ribs from an incredible angle.

A Fei did not dodge; with a flick of his wrist, the iron-sheet sword changed from a thrust to a slash, aiming at Jing Wuming's sword-holding wrist!

It was another mutually destructive fighting style!

Jing Wuming's pupils slightly contracted; he seemed to intensely dislike this injury-exchanging style, and his sword's momentum had to change again to parry A Fei's iron-sheet sword.

"Cling, cling, cling, cling!"

The next moment, their figures became completely entangled.

Sword Qi crisscrossed, moving so fast that only a blurred grey shadow and black light remained!

The clang of metal on metal was like a torrential rain on banana leaves, dense, rapid, and continuous, assaulting everyone's eardrums.

There were no fancy Moves, no complicated variations.

Both their sword Dao leaned towards another extreme—ultimate simplicity, ultimate efficiency, with the sole goal of killing the opponent!

Jing Wuming's sword was eerie and tricky, its Dao elusive, like a ghost, often delivering fatal blows from blind spots, carrying a heavy Aura of death.

A Fei's sword, on the other hand, was pure and direct, as fast as lightning; each Move contained a wild intuition and a precise grasp of timing, fighting fast with fast, using offense as defense.

In the center of the hall, Sword Qi surged, and the cold was bone-chilling.

The two fought fast with fast, shifting and moving, their figures like electricity, their sword light like silk.

The surrounding hall masters and sect leaders watched, dazzled and terrified.

They prided themselves on being Jianghu experts, but at this moment, they realized that in the face of such high-level fast swordsmanship, their martial arts were ridiculously slow.

Shangguan Jinhong's expression was as dark as water.

Lu Jiuyuan, however, still stood with his hands behind his back.

"Rip!"

A soft sound of cloth tearing.

A Fei's coarse cloth shirt on his chest was cut open, narrowly avoiding drawing blood.

Almost at the same instant, with a "puff," Jing Wuming's black sleeve was pierced, and a subtle bloodstain appeared on his left arm.

Separating again, both their bodies now showed blood.

A Fei's breathing was slightly more rapid, but his eyes grew even brighter.

Jing Wuming's expression remained deathly still, but his uninjured right hand gripped his sword tighter.

"Your sword only kills people." A Fei suddenly spoke, his voice carrying an excitement of battle.

Jing Wuming remained silent, which was undoubtedly an admission.

"My sword, too." A Fei continued, as if stating a fact:

"But your sword is dead. My sword is alive."