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The titanic hawk instantly withdrew its overreaching foot like it had touched lightning. Feathers started falling off its body in large numbers. A mournful cry later, it turned toward the north and disappeared into the horizon, not looking back even once.
Zhang Sheng lowered his sword and planted it against the floor. Its bright, sharp edge was less than half an inch away from Wei Yuan.
“What happened?” The scholar asked in an intimidating tone.
Wei Yuan barely mustered the strength to lift the backpack he had been clutching tightly all this time and replied, “My brother’s head was stolen by the Liao barbarians. I went to take it back.”
The disciple thought that his master would rebuke him, but instead he said, “Send me a message the next time you do something like this! I’ll come with you!”
Wei Yuan hesitated as he examined Zhang Sheng’s deathly pale complexion and bloodless lips. If he was alone, he could run away as soon as the situation looked disadvantageous. His master was different, though. No matter who his enemy was, he would most likely want to engage them in a fight first.
Zhang Sheng knew exactly what his disciple was thinking. He said indifferently, “With me around, you would’ve been safe even from an Avatar. This so-called Snow Hawk of Northern Liao is supposedly quite powerful, but I still repelled him in one strike,...
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