"As expected!"
Surrounded by stillness and complete darkness, Chu Mu's heart instantly sank.
During the day, even ambushes were manageable thanks to the broad visibility—no matter how sudden the attack, sheer numbers usually turned things into a one-sided pursuit.
And the results from earlier in the day had made that clear.
But now, in this dense forest where one couldn't even see their own hand, things had changed completely.
Terrain—this single factor—now offered overwhelming advantage to those used to surviving in the mountains.
Just like now—fire a shot, change location. With such favorable terrain, no one could even tell where the arrows were coming from. Even if they did catch a glimpse, the attackers vanished into the darkness in the blink of an eye, leaving no trace behind.
Chu Mu gripped his blade tightly, eyes scanning the pitch-black surroundings, more alert than ever before.
The renewed ambush confirmed one thing without a doubt—they weren't chasing the wrong target. Otherwise, there would be no reason for this clear attempt at delay.
Before long, the patrolmen who had charged into the woods began to return, one after another, all empty-handed.
The forest remained eerily silent, dark and suffocating.
With He Ping's shout, the patrol formation—which had been stretched into a long line while following tracks—was quickly reorganized into the triangular assault formation they'd used during the mountain ascent.
"Watch your footing. Make sure of the ground before you step."
Chu Mu lowered his voice as he warned the patrolmen nearby. Though the formation change helped avoid the vulnerability of being caught from both front and rear, they had now entered completely unfamiliar territory.
At least before, they'd been following the trail used by the fleeing villagers of Qili Village. The mountain path was rugged, but well-trodden—and any danger along it had already been discovered by others.
But here, in the depths of these wild mountains, where few ever set foot—especially in this pitch-black darkness—they had no such assurances.
Chu Mu lifted his long blade and hacked away at the brush ahead, cautiously stepping forward.
Each step was tentative, tested before committing. Only when he confirmed there was no danger did he move his full weight forward.
The snow-covered terrain hid unknown perils. No one could tell what might be buried beneath the surface.
Many had died or been crippled from such missteps.
"Seriously, why are we even doing this? It's pitch black—shouldn't we have just rested in the village overnight and started again in the morning?"
"We've been walking all day. Barely had a bite to eat…"
Some of the patrolmen nearby were quietly grumbling, voicing their complaints. Chu Mu glanced at them but said nothing. They weren't wrong, but this world wasn't one that played by logic or reason.
Right now, all he could hope for… was that the night would pass quickly.
Once morning came, everything would become much simpler.
"Brother Mu, we've fallen behind a bit," Xu Yuan whispered, pointing toward flickering torchlight deeper in the forest.
"Let's pick up the pace."
Just as Chu Mu responded, his peripheral vision caught a flash of reflected flame—and his pupils instantly contracted!
"Watch out!"
Chu Mu shouted, acting on instinct. Without thinking, he swung his blade upward.
A familiar metallic clang exploded through the air. A powerful force surged down the length of his blade and into his arm, nearly wrenching the weapon from his hand. He stumbled backward, struggling to stay upright.
"Enemy attack!"
"There's someone here!"
The patrolmen following Chu Mu instantly turned pale. Some stood frozen in place, others blindly swung their weapons toward the attacker, while still others panicked and cried out.
Chu Mu's expression turned grim. He was starting to realize—martial arts in this world made no sense.
At least, those who possessed real skills—besides that surprisingly strong youth from earlier—were terrifyingly powerful.
Their strength alone could overwhelm any technique. Whether it was a punch or a slash, nothing could stop them!
He was seriously beginning to wonder: who the hell was so bored that they came all the way to this backwater mountain village to teach martial arts?
Just a few dozen households, and somehow it had produced a bunch of ridiculously strong fighters!
Each one felt like they could crush him without effort.
Even with his beginner-level swordsmanship, he was barely holding on. If he was already struggling, what hope did the other patrolmen—who were just here to scrape by—have?
Right in front of Chu Mu, the man who had attacked from above failed to kill him in one strike. Without hesitation, he turned and sliced clean through another young patrolman, who stood frozen in shock. Blood spurted like a geyser, some of it splashing all over Chu Mu.
Another patrolman tried to retaliate, slashing at the attacker—but the man twisted lightly, effortlessly dodging the incoming blade.
Then came a punch. A dull, booming thud rang out like a temple bell. Chu Mu saw clearly: the man's fist landed on the patrolman's chest, caving it in by an inch. Blood sprayed as the man flew backward, smashing into a tree before tumbling to the ground.
No need to check—he was already dead.
"Bastard! You're dead meat!"
As Chu Mu prepared to flee, a voice rang out nearby, halting his retreat for a moment.
The attacker might be powerful—but the patrol squad had its own experts too.
Should he stay to delay the enemy, or just run?
In that split second, Chu Mu caught a glimpse of a heavily armored brute charging through the forest like a mad bull.
He recognized the man—one of the elite guards under the Thousand-Household commander. Stronger even than Li Gang.
Hesitation would only lead to chaos. Chu Mu made his decision instantly.
He raised his long blade, dashed forward, and slashed straight at the attacker with a cold, fierce gleam.
The attacker, seeing Chu Mu rush in, remained expressionless. He was mid-strike against another patrolman when his blade suddenly shifted like a streak of moonlight, clashing against Chu Mu's strike while simultaneously throwing a punch.
Without hesitation, Chu Mu twisted his body, dodging the blow. At the same time, he angled his blade and slashed again at the man's neck.
"You're courting death!"
The attacker growled, and a trace of killing intent flashed in his eyes.
He blocked Chu Mu's blade again, then suddenly hacked downward with immense force.
Chu Mu's palm ached from the shock, but he held firm, rolling across the ground to disperse the impact.
The man didn't relent. Another slash came down—a blur of steel aimed straight at Chu Mu's vitals.
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
Each clash sent waves of pain up Chu Mu's arms, numbing his limbs. The strikes didn't stop—nor did they show any mercy.
On the fourth blow, his patrol-issued saber snapped in half under the strain!
The broken blade fell into the snow.
Chu Mu now gripped only half a sword.
And the next strike… was still coming.
*(End of Chapter)*