Blood River

Night fell.

The city of Sihuai grew even livelier.

The first lord of Peerless City had once aided the founding emperor of Beili in conquering the realm, so Peerless City and its surrounding territories, including Sihuai, enjoyed considerable autonomy—there was no such thing as a curfew here. Thus, as night arrived, lights illuminated every corner, wine cups clinked in taverns, and warriors armed with blades and swords roamed everywhere.

Among them was Su Muyu.

Logically, with a great battle imminent, he should have been recuperating his Sword Qi in a quiet, secluded place—preferably deep in the mountains. Yet he chose to remain in Sihuai. He wanted to see this city once more, to truly experience what it meant to be the world's peerless martial city.

"Kill him! Golden Saber! Kill him! Show no mercy!" A chorus of furious shouts erupted from a nearby tavern.

Drawn by the noise, Su Muyu paused, hesitated for a moment, then stepped inside. The tavern was large, but the patrons weren't sitting quietly at their tables. Instead, they stood with cups in hand, gathered around a central circular platform where two men were locked in combat.

Both wore ghostly masks. One was a towering, broad-shouldered man wielding a massive golden saber—undoubtedly the "Golden Saber" they had been shouting about. His opponent, a frail swordsman, clutched a rusted iron sword, its blade chipped and cracked. Against the Golden Saber, he was clearly outmatched, dodging left and right under the onslaught of the massive blade. His sword, after a few desperate parries, looked ready to shatter at any moment.

"Why is there such a disparity in their weapons?" Su Muyu asked.

The man beside him glanced at him but ignored the question. The tavern owner, puffing on a pipe nearby, explained, "Not just anyone can step onto the stage. Fighters must pay to buy a weapon from me to qualify. That kid only had three copper coins, so all I could give him was a scrap of iron from the junk pile."

"Kill him! Kill him!" The crowd was nearly hysterical.

"What's the point of killing him? Everyone bet on Golden Saber. Even if he wins, none of you will earn a coin." The owner sighed, eyeing the two iron plates before him—one piled high with coins, the other empty. By tradition, winners would divide the losers' stakes proportionally, but in this case, the fight was a complete waste of time. Suddenly, a flash of light caught his eye, followed by a crisp clinking sound.

"Finally, someone's betting on that kid..." someone muttered. "But how stingy—just one..."

"A piece of gold!" The owner's jaw dropped. In his humble tavern, even a single silver tael was considered a generous wager. This gold piece was worth several times the entire pile of coins. And yet, it had been placed on the doomed swordsman.

The owner quickly looked up at the young man who had asked the question earlier. With refined features, he seemed like a scion of a noble family—no wonder he could afford such extravagance. A pity, though, that his money was surely about to vanish into thin air."Since that man is called Golden Saber, what's this one's name?" Su Muyu asked.

The tavern owner grinned. "He gave himself a name—Black Hunter."

"Good, then I'll bet on the little beggar," Su Muyu declared loudly. "I wager he'll win!"

The owner smirked cunningly. If one side's coins couldn't cover the other's, the excess would go to the tavern. These young masters from martial families, traveling the jianghu, were often confident yet foolish, losing vast sums of silver without realizing it. The outcome of the match on stage was so obvious, yet they still came to throw their money away.

But the duel on stage continued for another ten rounds without a clear winner. Golden Saber was already panting heavily. Though his Golden Saber was immensely lethal, it was far too heavy, placing tremendous strain on his body. In contrast, the weapon in Black Hunter's hand was almost weightless, making prolonged combat nothing to him.

"Bastard!" Golden Saber roared, raising his saber before charging forward, slamming into Black Hunter and sending him flying. He then swung his blade with all his remaining strength. Black Hunter had no way to dodge and was struck squarely.

"It's over!" someone in the crowd cheered.

Su Muyu, however, smiled faintly. "Interesting."

As Black Hunter was sent flying, he swung his sword midair to block the Golden Saber. A crisp clang rang out as his rusted blade shattered completely. But Black Hunter seemed to have anticipated this moment. After landing, he flicked his sleeves, gathering all the fragments before flinging them upward.

Golden Saber immediately retracted his saber and retreated. But before he could land, Black Hunter had already leaped toward him.

The crowd gasped. "Such swift movement!"

"The hunter has finally bared his fangs," Su Muyu said with a laugh. "This time, I win."

No sooner had he spoken than Black Hunter appeared beside Golden Saber. His right hand shot out, seizing Golden Saber's shoulder, while his left hand grabbed his right leg—a grappling technique. With a fierce twist, he hurled Golden Saber straight off the stage.

"Move aside!" the owner shouted.

The spectators, who had been cheering excitedly moments ago, froze in shock. Only after the owner's roar did they snap back to reality, scrambling toward the corners in panic. Su Muyu, however, lightly leaped up, catching the burly Golden Saber midair before gently setting him down.

Such a massive man felt as light as a feather in his hands.

On stage, Black Hunter removed his ghost mask and looked at him.

Su Muyu glanced up and was startled—this was just a half-grown child, no older than thirteen or fourteen, with dark skin and pitch-black, gleaming eyes, like a boy raised hunting in the wilds. The name "Black Hunter" suited him perfectly. Drenched in sweat, the boy panted heavily, having exhausted all his strength in that final move.

"Does falling off the stage count as a loss?" Su Muyu asked the tavern owner.

The owner hesitated briefly before nodding. "Yes. Black Hunter wins. Black Hunter wins.""Damn it!" Golden Saber rose from the ground. The previous strike hadn't really hurt him. He removed his mask, revealing a burly man with a curly beard. Picking up a nearby cup of wine, he downed it in one gulp before grabbing his saber and charging back onto the arena.