Sword Roaring in the Sky - Chapter 2

2. Seeking a Master

Sword Roars Through the Heavens

Sun Yanwan was stunned. “A sword glowing with green energy? Did I transmigrate into a xianxia world instead of wuxia?”

The youth reacted lightning-fast. He hurled his broken blade like a projectile, then leaped back three zhang (over nine meters) through the shattered inn door, landing lightly on the snow outside. With a flicker of movement, he vanished into the storm.

The golden-faced man—Hu—twisted aside to dodge the flying blade, then roared and gave chase, sword in hand. The remaining men scrambled after him, those unarmed snatching weapons from their dead horses’ saddles.

Sun Yanwan stood frozen. Veteran inn workers had long fled at the first sign of bloodshed, and the cook had never even emerged. By the time Sun Yanwan thought to run, it was too late.

Peering outside, he saw a grisly scene: over a dozen horses lay slaughtered, their wounds frozen shut, while the survivors stamped nervously. Two dead men sprawled in the snow—casualties of the youth’s ruthless blade.

A thought struck him. “Is this my ‘starter loot’ moment? These men must carry silver. If I scavenge some, it could change my life. An opportunity like this won’t come again.”

Though his legs trembled from witnessing murder, he forced himself into the snow. Rifling through the first corpse’s robes, he found a weighty coin pouch. He dumped its contents, keeping only the loose silver and copper, then stuffed the empty pouch back—no need to alert survivors to theft.

He repeated the process with the second body. But instead of pocketing the coins (the innkeeper routinely frisked servants), he buried them under a tree’s roots.

As he trudged back, teeth chattering, excitement warmed him. “With this money, I’ll head south come spring—find a better life, maybe even a martial master!”

Then he saw him.

The youth in coarse cotton and felt hat lounged in a chair, chin propped on one hand, smiling faintly. Sun Yanwan’s blood turned to ice.

“Quite the schemer,” the youth drawled.

The killing intent radiating from him sent Sun Yanwan crashing to his knees. “Disciple Sun Yanwan begs Master to take me in!”

The youth blinked, then burst out laughing. “You want me as your shifu*?”*

“Without a teacher like you,” Sun Yanwan said earnestly, “I’ll die a nameless servant. What kind of life is that?”

The youth studied him, then shrugged. “Do one thing for me. Succeed, and I’ll consider it.”

Before Sun Yanwan could ask what, the youth’s head snapped up. “Act normal—don’t look at me!” In one fluid motion, he vaulted onto a ceiling beam and flattened himself against it.

Sun Yanwan dashed outside, heaved a corpse over his shoulder, and wrenched a saber from its grip. A quick toss sent the weapon arcing upward—the youth caught it soundlessly.

Wind howled as seven or eight men stormed in. A scar-faced brute glared. “Hey! What’re you doing?”

Sun Yanwan feigned panic. “T-this lord twitched! I thought he might be alive, so I brought him in to check—”

The scarred man brightened, but a cold voice cut in: “Move.” Hu Fengwei shouldered past, bending to examine the body—

Thunk!

The youth’s thrown saber pierced Hu’s back like a bolt of lightning.

Roaring, Hu Fengwei leaped up and punched the beam. The timber—thick as a bear’s waist—shattered. The ceiling collapsed in a cascade of snow and splinters.

Hu crashed down, choking on blood, fingers scrabbling at the embedded blade. Then he stiffened—and went still.

The youth landed gracefully amid the wreckage. “Hu Fengwei is dead. Who else dares face me?”

The remaining men fled screaming into the night.

Sun Yanwan expected pursuit—until the youth crumpled, vomiting blood. Hu’s retaliatory strike had crushed his organs through the beam.

“Shifu! How can I help?” Sun Yanwan rushed forward.

The youth smirked. “Luckiest brat alive. If I weren’t injured, I’d have left you here.”

He’d never expected to kill Hu Fengwei—the man outclassed him. But Sun Yanwan’s quick thinking had set the perfect trap: bait, blade, and fatal distraction.

Grinning through bloody teeth, the youth waved at the corpses outside. “Get two horses. We leave now—or his men will skin us both.”