Torches in the stone chamber flickered erratically, buffeted by sword qi, as seven or eight men in black closed in with barbed steel sabers, the bluish patterns on the blades glinting with venomous cold light. Zhao Wuji stood at the back, spinning a gem-inlaid dagger expertly in his palm, his mouth stretched in a grin that still stained his lips with blood. "Young Lord Ye, that's just how your mother was cornered and butchered by us back at Dragon-Breaking Abyss—"
"Silence!" Ye Fan's Black Sword hummed as it cleared its scabbard, his Inner World rippling outward, taking in every movement within the stone chamber with absolute clarity: the wrist of the third man in black on the left was trembling—a greenhorn; the scarred man on the right was gripping his saber too tightly, his footing unsteady; Zhao Wuji was up on his toes, ready to flee at a moment's notice.
The memory of his mother being hacked to pieces in his past life flashed before his eyes. His Adam's apple bobbed, and veins bulged on the hand gripping his sword. "Uncle Li, keep Shuang'er safe."
Chapter 101