Becoming a Saint From the Iron Armor Skill

"Attacking an Official in broad daylight! You’ve got some nerve!"

Knowing these people had come prepared, Yan Jian didn’t dare let his guard down. With a loud shout, he raised his hand and fired a Whistling Arrow into the sky, calling for reinforcements.

The City Guard Department had recently increased its patrols, and Officials were on rotating shifts even during the noon break. He just had to hold out for a short while, and more Officials from the City Guard Department would arrive.

But the Whistling Arrow had barely left his hand when, before it could detonate, it was shot out of the sky by a black-clad man in the distance. It fell to the ground with a CLATTER.

He couldn’t call for reinforcements; his only option was to carve a bloody path out. Yan Jian was decisive. Igniting all the Qi Blood Power in his body, he brandished his longsword and charged back the way he had come.

He had only charged a few steps before the men in black produced a variety of Hidden Weapons—quicklime powder, vials of poison, arrows, and even government-regulated crossbow bolts—and unleashed a massive, whistling volley.

Yan Jian snapped his eyes shut, tore off his official robes, and swung them frantically to shield his face from the quicklime powder and poison.

His longsword became an impenetrable blur, deflecting every incoming arrow.

He continued to charge forward. In just a few breaths, he was out of the Hidden Weapons’ range and upon the men in black.

He unleashed the full extent of his Perfect Level Sword Skill, his movements fierce and swift. The assassins’ Saber Techniques were only at the Great Success Level; they were no match for him.

Yan Jian was a tiger among sheep. Wherever his longsword passed, men were either stabbed through the throat or had their limbs lopped off. He cut down all who stood in his way.

In just a few exchanges, he had slain five or six of the men in black.

However, the faces of these men were tinged black, and their Qi Blood Power far surpassed that of the Great Success in Skin Grinding Realm. Their Blade Techniques were swift and domineering, and they managed to halt Yan Jian’s advance.

Another dozen or so assassins charged in, completely surrounding Yan Jian.

Yan Jian was, after all, a Perfect Martial Artist of the Skin Grinding Realm, and his power was formidable. Realizing he couldn’t break free quickly, he steeled himself and pushed his swordsmanship to its absolute limit. He charged left and right, often slaying an assassin on the spot in just two or three moves.

They fought for several dozen breaths. Yan Jian cut down another ten or so assassins, but in their dying throes, they managed to land several cuts on him, leaving him with serious injuries.

If not for his Skin Grinding Realm Perfection making his skin as tough as bronze and iron, those few slashes would have been fatal.

"Do you truly have no fear of death!?"

He had killed more than half of the thirty-some assassins, yet they remained utterly fearless of death. Enraged, Yan Jian’s own savagery was ignited, and he let out a furious roar.

"Hmph. Death is upon you, and you’re still running your mouth!

Don’t fear him! He’s just one man, and his strength is spent. Kill him, and the Sect Leader will surely reward us with Treasure Medicine!"

The man who had lured Yan Jian over shouted.

His power was clearly a cut above the other assassins. Yan Jian had tried to kill him several times, but he had managed to evade every attempt.

"In that case, I’ll just have to kill every last one of you!" Yan Jian snarled, his Sword Techniques growing even more ferocious.

However, having just slain over a dozen assassins, he had consumed more than half of his Qi Blood Power. His speed and Power Dao were greatly diminished. Even if he could kill the rest of them, he would likely be gravely wounded in the process.

After another round of fierce fighting, five or six more assassins fell, leaving only seven or eight.

But Yan Jian was faring no better. He took another slash to his chest and back, and his breathing grew labored. A fiery pain throbbed from the wounds all over his body.

Just then, five constables from the City Guard Department heard the commotion and rushed to the alley’s entrance.

"Not good! Someone’s attacking Mr. Yan!"

One of the constables shouted, firing a Whistling Arrow for reinforcements. Then, drawing their sabers, they charged toward Yan Jian.

"Withdraw!" Knowing the situation was hopeless, the man in the black uniform yelled and led the way toward a nearby residence.

The other assassins hurried after him, vanishing from sight in the blink of an eye.

Hah...

Having survived the ordeal, Yan Jian let out a long sigh of relief. He slumped against a courtyard wall, gasping for air.

’Thank goodness the City Guard Department constables arrived when they did. Otherwise, I would’ve been a dead man.’

"Mr. Yan, look out!" one of the constables cried in alarm.

Startled, Yan Jian snapped his head up just in time to see a masked figure in black leaping down from a nearby courtyard wall, sword thrusting straight for him.

The strike was lightning-fast, viciously sharp—it was unmistakably a Perfect Level Sword Skill.

At his peak, Yan Jian could have dodged it with ease. But now, exhausted and caught completely by surprise, he had no way to evade the blow.

He dodged aside on instinct, but the sword still pierced through the left side of his chest.

The masked assassin followed up with a flying kick, slamming it hard into Yan Jian’s chest.

SPIT! Yan Jian’s body was sent flying several meters like a kite with a severed string. He coughed up a mouthful of blood, his face turned deathly pale, and he passed out.

The five constables rushed forward, forming a protective wall of sabers in front of Yan Jian as they stared warily at the masked assassin.

"Who are you? How dare you attack a City Guard Department Official in the middle of the street!" the lead constable demanded, his voice stern. But his right hand, gripping his saber, trembled uncontrollably.

’Given the Martial Arts Power this masked assassin has displayed, if he attacks, the five of us will be cut down in an instant.’

The masked assassin held a blood-stained Broken Sword. His eyes, filled with contempt, swept over the constables as he spoke in a leisurely tone, "You are all ants. You are not worthy of my attention.

You need only know this: the one who killed Yan Gou today is Ding Mo of the Wind and Rain Tower!"

With that, he performed a few quick leaps, disappearing into a nearby residence.

...

After lunch, Chen Cheng was relaxing at the stone table in his courtyard, leisurely sipping tea, when he suddenly heard frantic knocking at his gate.

Chen Cheng recognized Mu Song’s voice and had Xi’Er open the gate.

"Mr. Chen, Lord Shen has summoned you," Mu Song said, rushing in and offering a quick salute.