Life gradually returned to its normal rhythm.
Wang Yan and Tang Yuehua settled comfortably into the residence they had purchased not far from Liu Ming's house. The short distance allowed the two couples to meet frequently. Sometimes they shared meals; other times, they simply talked after finishing their work for the day.
Tang Yuehua and Shuo Linger also spent time together during these months. Whenever the others were busy with Iron Guard affairs, the two women would converse quietly, exchanging stories, laughter, and small confidences.
Meanwhile, Liu Ming, Zhao Qing, Chen Yu, and Wang Yan continued managing the Iron Guards. Their reputation grew steadily, and more merchants trusted them to protect their shipments along important trade routes.
Days passed in a calm rhythm. The friends handled their responsibilities efficiently, gathering occasionally at Liu Ming's house or Wang Yan's residence to share meals and updates.
Over the course of five months, life followed this steady pace. The Iron Guards' influence expanded. Though not yet a major mercenary power, their name had become increasingly noticeable among merchants and smaller guilds.
The attacks on Iron Guard shipments had grown frequent, and this time, Liu Ming, Zhao Qing, and Chen Yu decided to personally investigate one of the targeted segments.
What they found far exceeded expectations. Waiting in ambush were four Soul Saints and nine Soul Emperors, all seasoned and radiating overwhelming auras.
Liu Ming, Chen Yu, and Zhao Qing exchanged grim looks. Together, as Soul Emperors, their combined force could handle two or three mid-level Soul Saints, or even four if they coordinated perfectly and pushed themselves to their absolute limits. But now, facing four fully experienced Soul Saints, backed by nine Soul Emperors, the situation was far beyond their capacity.
Despite the immense danger, they launched into battle without hesitation. Martial souls flared, and energy waves erupted across the battlefield. Even together, the three friends felt the crushing pressure of their enemies.
Just as the struggle reached a critical point, a brilliant sword aura tore through the chaos. Wang Yan had arrived. His sword martial soul shone like lightning, slicing through the energy of the ambush with precise, unstoppable force.
He focused solely on the four Soul Saints. One by one, they fell beneath his sword. The first was struck before it could react; the second, third, and fourth followed swiftly, each cut down decisively, their immense power extinguished in an instant.
Meanwhile, Liu Ming, Chen Yu, and Zhao Qing concentrated on the nine Soul Emperors. Coordinating flawlessly, they struck relentlessly. The battlefield became a storm of clashing martial souls, flashing energy, and crushing pressure.
One by one, the enemy Soul Emperors were felled. Six of them died beneath the combined efforts of the three friends, leaving only three to escape.
Finally, with the four Soul Saints eliminated and the majority of the Soul Emperors defeated, the immediate threat was over. The Iron Guard shipment remained secure, and the attackers' plan to tarnish their reputation had failed completely.
The survivors fled into the distance, carrying with them the memory of the terrifying power wielded by the Iron Guards.
Several days had passed since the ambush. The three surviving Soul Emperors had managed to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the battlefield. Their wounds were still fresh, and their spirits weighed heavily with the sting of defeat.
They arrived at a quiet village, far enough from the trade routes to avoid attention. By late afternoon, they found a modest inn with a small, dimly lit restaurant on the first floor. Inside, the smell of stew and burning candles filled the air. They took a secluded corner table, lowered their voices, and began to discuss the events of the battle.
"I still can't believe it," one of them muttered, swirling the wine in his cup. "Four Soul Saints… all killed… by a single Sword Master. A Sword Master! At Soul Saint level! None of us saw that coming."
The second, leaning back against the wooden chair, pressed a hand to his shoulder. "We underestimated them. Even with the nine Soul Emperors we brought, six of us are dead. And that Sword Master… his sword strikes… precise, lethal, unstoppable. There's no way we could have survived if he focused on us."
The third, older and grim, shook his head slowly. "We have to understand what this means. The Iron Guards are not just a rising organization. They now have someone among them who is capable of killing four Soul Saints alone. That changes everything. Their rise is dangerous, and that Sword Master… he's central to their strength."
Unbeknownst to them, a quiet figure sitting at the far end of the restaurant had been listening intently. His presence was subtle, unnoticed among the other patrons. Every word, every detail, was etched into his memory: the Sword Master, his power, and the Iron Guards' key members.
After the Soul Emperors left, the figure slipped silently out of the inn and made his way to contacts within the Bloodscale Clan. Carefully, he delivered the information: a Sword Master at Soul Saint cultivation existed within the Iron Guards.
The Bloodscale Clan member knelt before the Patriarch.
"Patriarch," he said, "we have received critical intelligence regarding a recent conflict involving the Iron Guards."
The Patriarch's gaze was steady. "Speak."
"The information comes from a reliable source," the member continued. "During the encounter, a Sword Master with Soul Saint cultivation appeared. He inflicted the majority of the damage against the attackers, even eliminating several Soul Saints. The attackers were forced to retreat, and their operation failed. That is all the source could confirm."
The Patriarch was silent for a moment, letting the words settle. Sword… martial soul… Soul Saint cultivation. His eyes narrowed slightly as the pieces fell into place.
"If this is correct… the one who appeared must be the Sword Martial Soul cultivator we have been searching for. The fourth friend… Wang Yan."
A quiet, almost inaudible laugh escaped his lips. "Finally… finally you have shown yourself, Wang Yan."
The member, sensing a shift in the Patriarch's mood, asked carefully, "Now, Patriarch… what shall we do?"
The Patriarch shook his head slowly. "We wait. A direct attack now would be reckless. If we move too soon, we risk alerting them. No… we must weaken them from within first. Their backbone must be fractured before we can act openly. Agents must be placed inside the Iron Guards, especially close to the core members. Patience… precision… timing. That is the key."
"Yes, Patriarch," the member replied, bowing and leaving the room.
The Patriarch remained seated, silent, his mind working tirelessly. He stared into the distance, calculating, plotting. The faint smile never left his lips as he considered the next moves.
End of chapter.