Liu Weian pushed through the crowd. The first thing he saw was a pig—no, a wild boar of absurd size. Its hide was dappled black and white, its brows thick, eyes fierce. The beast stretched nearly three and a half meters long, its limbs thick like tree trunks, belly bulging, lying on the ground like a mountain of meat. Every bristle on its body stood upright like steel needles. But the most terrifying part was its tusks—curved like blades, over thirty centimeters long, even larger than a typical dagger. A savage, untamed aura still radiated from its corpse.
There were three wounds on the beast. One pierced the chest near the heart, still oozing blood. Liu Weian guessed it hadn't gone deep enough to kill; otherwise, there wouldn't have been a second slash at the neck. That cut had severed the main artery. The pig had bled to death. Scrapes and bruises on its body backed up this conclusion. The third wound was to its left eye—stabbed blind. Just three strikes had taken down such a monstrous wild boar. Liu Weian couldn't help but feel admiration.
The boar's weight had crushed a wooden cart beneath it. The cart was drawn by an old ox, groaning under the strain, moving as slow as a snail. The deep wheel tracks proved that the ox wasn't slacking—it was simply exhausted. When Liu Weian's gaze moved to the cart's owner, a flash of surprise passed through his eyes.
It was a girl—seventeen or eighteen, about his age. But her appearance, not her age, caught his attention. Her features were delicate, like a painting; her skin as fair as snow, figure slender, legs long and waist narrow. But what truly etched her into his memory were her eyes—clear and bright like spring water, yet brimming with stubborn resolve.
She held a curved blade in her hand, facing off against a burly man. The old ox trudged forward on its own, oblivious to the standoff.
"Little sister," the man said with a forced smile, "we're not trying to make things hard for you, but you're moving way too slow. At this pace, we won't reach Stone City until five or six o'clock. Maybe you've got time to waste, but the rest of us still need to log off, don't we?"
"We're just trying to help," added a middle-aged man behind him, likely the convoy's leader. "Our wagons are big, our oxen strong. Let us help you move this pig. We don't even want money. Why be so stubborn?"
The convoy was from the Pegasus Caravan—a legitimate company with responsibility for protecting its cargo. Not some lawless group like Black Ox.
"Helping, my ass. They've got their eyes on the girl," someone nearby muttered under his breath. Liu Weian's ears perked up, and before he could ask, a young man voiced the question for him.
"What do you mean?"
The man glanced around, ensuring no one from Pegasus was close, then whispered, "When the road was wide, she pulled to the side and let them pass. They stood still, saying 'Ladies first.' Now that the road's crowded, they suddenly want to help? Bullshit. It's not the girl blocking the road—it's their oversized wagons. Any normal ox-cart could pass side by side with hers."
"Then why're they doing this?"
"Didn't realize at first. But look—see that third wagon, the fancy one? Belongs to the young master of Pegasus. Word is, he's a lecher."
The crowd let out a collective "Oh," suddenly understanding. The problem wasn't the pig—it was the people.
The guard captain lost patience. His eyes turned cold.
"We've been polite. But our men live by the blade. If they lose their tempers and do something extreme, no one's going to look good."
"If you want my pig," the girl said, face tight and eyes blazing, "you'll have to get past my blade."
She repeated the line like a mantra, unshaken. The leader's eyes flickered with cruelty. He casually stepped back—a signal.
The guard captain sneered and turned to shout, "Brothers, this little lady doesn't know what's good for her. What should we do?"
"Flip the damn cart!" someone roared.
"Smash it!"
Over twenty guards raised their weapons, shouting like bandits rather than professionals. The onlookers quickly backed off, some even pulling their carts further away to avoid trouble.
"Last chance, girl," the captain said smugly. "Either pull over and let us through, or we do things our way."
He glanced at her with some regret—such a pretty face, a shame the young master had taken a liking to her. Just as he felt a twinge of warning and tried to step back, a chill swept across his neck. The world spun.
He saw a headless body spurting blood—his own. Just before darkness took him, the thought struck him: Why does that corpse look so familiar?
No one had expected the girl to strike first—let alone so ruthlessly. With a single slash, she decapitated the captain. Everyone stood frozen. Even Liu Weian was stunned.
But the girl didn't stop. Like a leopard, she lunged into the caravan. Her blade danced. In a blink, four more guards fell, screams filling the air. Chaos erupted. Some guards rushed in, others scattered, while drivers fled in terror.
The girl pressed the attack, her blade merciless and precise. Liu Weian noted each strike landed on a fatal spot—throat, heart. Instant kills.
One by one, more screams rang out. In mere moments, over a dozen corpses littered the ground. The remaining guards managed to surround her, attacking from all sides.
But the girl wasn't fazed. She moved like a fox, dodging every deadly blow. Her curved blade flashed—another head soared into the air, followed by two more fallen men. One guard clashed swords with her, only to be blasted back two meters.
People gasped. Not only was her speed uncanny—her strength surpassed even these veteran fighters. In less than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, only four guards remained, barely holding on.
Everyone had expected to see a lamb being devoured by wolves. Instead, the rabbit bit back—ferociously.
Then—
Boom!
A wagon behind her exploded. From the flying debris, a hand shot out and struck her back like lightning.
She screamed, blood spurting as she was flung into the air. Before she could land, a blue-robed man appeared like a ghost behind her, palm raised to strike.
Sensing danger, she twisted mid-air and countered with a palm strike of her own. The man sneered and accelerated.
Just as their hands were about to meet, the girl suddenly withdrew her strike and slashed. A brilliant arc of steel flashed in the air. The blue-robed man's expression twisted from scorn to terror.
Crack!
His palm hit her left shoulder—bone shattered, her arm fell limp. But her blade had already cut through his neck. His head spun in the air, frozen in fear.
"Second Brother!" a voice cried.
Another blue-robed man leapt from the luxurious wagon, face twisted in fury. He drew a massive saber and charged. From three meters out, he slashed—aiming right at the girl's head.
To Liu Weian's shock, she didn't dodge—she blocked.
Clang!
The clash echoed like a thunderclap. Her blade deflected upward. Her feet sank into the earth up to her ankles, the force tremendous. Blood dripped from her lips, but her blade arced toward his neck again—the same move that had killed his brother.
The man panicked and spun his saber to block.
The curved blade scraped past, then twisted like a snake, striking toward his heart. He staggered back, barely avoiding death. The girl's aggression stunned everyone. Even injured, she kept up the pressure—feral and relentless.
But Liu Weian could see she was nearing her limit. Her breathing, complexion, and slower wind-up times revealed it all. Her broken arm hindered her. That earlier strike to her back was sapping her life. Only sheer willpower kept her moving.
Clang!
A third clash—her blade shattered. Though she dodged fast, the saber's tip still grazed her. Blood streaked from her arm to her chest.
"Die!" the blue-robed man bellowed. His saber stabbed forward like a serpent, aimed at her heart.
Her injuries overwhelmed her. She couldn't even move. The blade neared—but her eyes stayed fierce. No fear. No surrender.
Whoosh!
A sharp whistle split the air. A silver flash streaked across the sky. The blue-robed man sensed death and hastily drew back his saber to block.
Thunk!
Too late. Blood blossomed from his forehead. An arrow pierced through. He fell, eyes wide, unwilling to die.
"Stop!"
A young man stepped from the opulent carriage, twenty years old at most, dressed in fine robes. His expression shifted as he saw his guards collapse.
"What the hell are you people doing? Planning to camp here and have dinner?!"
"Apologies, young master! I'll handle this!" the leader barked. A flash of green surged to his face. His figure vanished—and reappeared beside the girl, fingers reaching for her throat.
The crowd gasped. No one had expected this frail-looking man to be a hidden expert. Cold and ruthless—he had watched his men die without flinching.
Just as his fingers neared her skin, danger struck. He yanked his hand back, snatching a flying arrow from mid-air.
Snap!
The arrow shattered in his grasp, but the force knocked him back two steps. His eyes widened in shock as he stared thirty meters away—at Liu Weian.
His voice dropped low.
"Who are you? And why are you interfering?"