---
Brother Tian froze.
In the clearing ahead, five battered guards stood shoulder to shoulder, forming a protective ring around a fat man with bright green hair, slumped against a cart. Blood soaked his robes, and his breathing was shallow—but his eyes still burned with defiance. A tattered flag fluttered from the cart behind him, marked with a black-and-gold horse symbol, its edges torn from battle.
Surrounding them were eleven bandits, each armed and grinning like wolves circling a wounded stag. Their leader stepped forward—a bald brute with a barrel chest and arms like tree trunks. His voice was thick with mockery.
"If you'd handed over the goods from the start," he sneered, "I might've let you losers crawl away. But now? You're all dead."
The fat man coughed, blood flecking his lips. "Kill us? Hah! I, Ji Nang, won't fall to a pack of roadside dogs."
The bandit leader laughed, loud and cruel. "Big words for a man who can't stand. Kill them."
The underlings stepped forward, blades raised.
Then a voice rang out—calm, amused, and utterly fearless.
"I was hoping for a little exercise today."
All heads turned.
From the forest brush, a muscular figure emerged, sleeves rolled up, veins bulging, a wide grin on his face. Brother Tian.
He cracked his knuckles. "You lot look like fun."
The bandits hesitated, surprised. But Tian didn't wait. He stepped forward, fists clenched, eyes locked on the leader. "Come at me."
Just then, two more figures arrived—Wu Ken and Elder Huan, emerging from the trees behind him.
"Tian," Huan called, sword already half-drawn, "what's going on?"
Tian didn't look back. "Some friends are getting bullied. I'm helping."
Huan frowned. "Friends?"
"Look at the flag," Tian said simply.
Huan's eyes flicked to the cart. Recognition dawned. His expression shifted—serious, alert.
"Wu Ken," he said, "go back."
"I'm coming," Wu Ken replied, voice steady, eyes sharp.
Before Huan could argue, the bandit leader stepped forward, sneering. "This has nothing to do with you. But if you want to die early, I'll oblige."
He raised his hand. "Kill them all."
The clearing exploded into motion.
Three bandits—one of them a woman with twin daggers—rushed Elder Huan. Five others, including the leader himself, charged at Brother Tian. The remaining three—two women and one man—stood back, watching with cold, unreadable eyes.
Tian met the charge head-on, swinging his iron hammer in a wide arc. The first bandit's blade shattered on impact, the man flung backward like a ragdoll. Another tried to flank him, but Tian spun, the hammer slamming into his ribs with a sickening crunch.
Elder Huan moved like a seasoned warrior, his sword flashing in tight, efficient arcs. He parried a thrust, sidestepped a slash, and countered with a precise strike to the attacker's thigh. The female bandit hissed and fell back, blood staining her leg.
Wu Ken stood at the edge of the clearing, heart pounding. He watched every movement—every feint, every block, every strike. These weren't cultivators. They had no Qi techniques, no flashy skills. But their experience, their grit, their raw strength—it was real. It was earned.
Even Zang Ai sounded impressed. "Hmph. Not bad for mortals. That hammer swing had weight. And your elder's footwork—tight, balanced. He's killed before."
Wu Ken nodded silently, eyes wide. He was learning more in these moments than in any lecture.
The fight dragged on. Sweat poured. Blood spilled. But Tian and Huan held their ground.
The bandit leader, Yang He, growled in frustration. "We'll lose at this rate…"
He clapped his hands twice.
Then smiled.
"Hey, hammer boy," he called. "What's your name?"
Tian didn't stop swinging. "Tian."
"I'm Yang He. You've got strength. Join us. We'll rule this road together."
Tian snorted. "No thanks. I'd rather break your jaw."
Yang He's grin vanished. "So be it."
Wu Ken kept watching the fight, focused on Tian's hammer swings—until Zang Ai's voice suddenly sharpened.
"Boy. Behind him. Three shadows. You didn't see them—but I did."
Wu Ken blinked, startled. He turned—and saw them.
Three bandits, the ones who had been waiting, were now moving. Fast. Silent. Their blades glinted in the fading light as they circled behind Brother Tian.
Wu Ken's breath caught.
"Brother Tian! Behind you!"
But Tian couldn't hear him over the clash of steel.
Wu Ken ran, feet pounding the dirt, lungs burning. "Brother Tian! Behind you!"
The three bandits were nearly there, blades drawn, steps silent.
Then—
A blur of motion shot past Wu Ken.
A figure with **dark green hair**, moving faster than anyone else in the clearing.
The three bandits raised their swords.
And the clearing erupted again.
---