Why do I have so many masters?

The four words were understated and inconspicuous, yet the scorching heat had already risen completely, surging into the sky, twisting the air.

The crimson flame was so intense that Xiao Runlin, clad in red, had to squint to see clearly. What seemed like a flat road just a few steps away appeared distorted like a mirage, seemingly close yet untouchable and unreachable.

And the teahouse rest stop just a dozen steps away appeared to be unaffected.

A very clever technique.

Extremely clever.

He extended his right hand, soothing the restless mount beneath him, a pale blue dragon horse which moved its left hoof, snorting continuously. If it wasn't for its rigorous training, it would have already collapsed to the ground.

Xiao Runlin squinted at the imposing and majestic Qilin phenomenon, and the thought of retreat had already arisen in his mind. However, this idea was suppressed the moment it arose. He could not retreat; he was standing here not for himself, but for his master behind him.

He was well aware of the factional disputes within the Sword Forging Valley.

The fact that he was standing here instead of others from different factions meant that his master must have paid a sufficient price, at least not less than seventy percent of the benefits from bringing back Ouyang Guiyuan, otherwise, it would not satisfy those uncles and seniors.

And the fact that Master ultimately chose him also involved the stratagems between his family and the other noble clans of the senior brothers.

Today, there were only twelve people standing here, but the disputes over interests, concessions, and decisions behind the scenes involved a hundred people, two hundred people, or even a thousand people, like interlocking chains, countless links already stained with rust from blood.

Retreat or not, it was no longer up to their own will.

Xiao Runlin's expression was cold and arrogant; he raised his right hand, and the young disciples behind him simultaneously tightened the reins of their mounts with one hand while gripping their weapons with the other, with swords or blades slightly raised, hesitating not a bit, as the precious 'Qi Mechanism' had already been activated.

When Wang Anfeng had just subdued that swordsman, the latter didn't activate his Qi Mechanism, and was taken down in one move. For the disciples of Sword Forging Valley, whether or not to use the trump card translated into completely different concepts.

Wang Anfeng captured the opponent's reaction in his eyes, raised his right hand, and pressed down the brim of his hat, the black veil slightly quivering.

Without a trace of emotion, Xiao Runlin raised his hand and slashed it down like a cutting blade or sword.

The frozen scene moved, but the sound of horse hooves seemed to come from very far away.

The diners in the inn saw those tall fine horses galloping forward, then the young men and women clad in white leapt up, a total of nine, the leading two did not make a move, but these nine were already like immortals.

Sword Qi crisscrossed, it was as if snow fell from the sky, with rumbling thunder echoing, pounding into the heart continually, the roaming merchant's heart shivering constantly, his right hand rested on the table, the weight of his whole body unconsciously pressing down.

The table shook, making an eerie creaking sound.

His eyes widened, seeing the clear sky transform in an instant, the distance remained comforting blue, but here, clouds gathered, wild winds rose, as if a great serpent lurked within the dark clouds, coiling in swirls, sporadically charged with plasma, emitting rumbles.

Then, all the wild winds, lightning, and Sword Qi blade glows, as if by agreement, bombarded the young man standing at the crossroads. He wanted to shout, telling him to run away quickly, but as he opened his mouth, it felt like his throat was stuffed with a scorching flame, only able to emit a minute sound even he could barely hear.

"Run..."

Wang Anfeng raised his right hand, pressing down the hat to cover his calm and undisturbed eyes, watching the torrential wind and thunder descend, as the Qilin behind him lowered its head, the crimson glow enveloping his body, as well as the suddenly emerging phantom Golden Bell.

The transformation completed in an instant.

Amidst the thunderous roar, thunder slashed down, Sword Qi crisscrossed, striking the ground, bursting open crater after crater, dirt splattering, as the nine white-clad men and women sharply retreated, stylishly and grandiosely landing on their respective mounts.

A Divine Weapon's Qi Mechanism, even a wisp was an invaluable treasure, instantly invoking such a treasure caused a flurry akin to nine Middle Third Rank elite experts making a move.

Xiao Runlin watched the rolling surge on the opposite side.

It resembled wave-like air currents, white with thunder and flames coursing through, like the clouds above falling to the ground, the former crimson glow vanished, so now he no longer needed to squint to look in that direction.

Yet the black hair at his temples was slightly singed, giving off an unpleasant stench.

His heart relaxed slightly.

The opponent had been too arrogant; even a genuine Fourth Rank expert wouldn't dare take such an attack directly. Taking it head-on, if not dead, would be injured, thus seizing the initiative fell to their side.

However, the blue-skirted maiden behind him had kept a tense expression all along, never relaxing, her eyes fixed on the direction ahead, not knowing why, a feeling of breathlessness overwhelmed her, as if a hand was squeezing her heart.

Suddenly, it became very quiet.

The sound of the wind whined, blowing in from far away, from the mountains, from the cloud peaks, the ground's grasses and trees already thoroughly crushed, the wind carried the scent of earthiness and the moist aroma of the river water dozens of miles away.