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Chapter 442: War

War . . .

The Killer King and the King of Assassins emerged in tandem, casting a shadow of dread over all the assembled assassins.

Their unexpected arrival sent shockwaves through the ranks.

As the conflict unfolded, it became evident that the attackers were steadily losing their resolve. The initial fervor that had driven their assault began to wane. Fear began to seep into some, causing them to tremble and contemplate retreat, which, in turn, would trigger a cascading withdrawal of the throngs. Such an outcome would undoubtedly be the most favorable scenario for Ling-Bao Hall.

Yet, amidst this fluctuating atmosphere, a voice, laced with cruelty, pierced the air, "Ning Biluo, very well... The world\'s No. 1 Assassin reduced to a mere guardian, a slave. You no longer deserve the title you bear... Allow me to challenge you for it. I have harbored a sense of humiliation over your possession of this title for far too long!"

A spectral figure, shrouded in black, appeared like a wraith. His attire, a black mask and flowing robe with voluminous sleeves, seemed to materialize from a nebulous shroud of darkness. He emitted a eerie giggle before extending his hands, conjuring several silvery strands that interwove into a vast, gleaming net in the air.

It was none other than the Boundless Saint of Boundless Lake!

He was accompanied by several formidable individuals, the paramount assassins of Boundless Lake. United in purpose, they sought to challenge Ning Biluo.

Ning Biluo, however, remained unruffled. He offered only a contemptuous snort, retorting, "You are already dead!"

In the blink of an eye, his hand ignited with swordlight, resembling a bolt of lightning rending the sky. He surged toward the Boundless Saint with the velocity of a lightning strike, severing the silvery threads that hung in the air. Their collision generated dazzling displays of light and sound.

Though Boundless Saint was slightly outmatched by Ning Biluo, it was no facile task to subdue him within a brief span!

Meanwhile, on the opposite front, with the sudden appearance of the Boundless Saint and his elite assassins attacking Ning Biluo, the latter was compelled to disengage from the primary battle. Arrogant as he may be, Ning Biluo harbored no illusions about contending with both the group of assassins and the Boundless Saint simultaneously. Such a venture would undoubtedly culminate in his demise.

Although Ning Biluo had been tactically removed from the fray, Zhao Pingtian remained an ominous presence. The three most formidable assassins in the world had converged upon this location. While Boundless Saint, the second in rank, and his followers grappled with Ning Biluo, the number one, Zhao Pingtian, stood coolly aloof, casting an unyielding gaze upon the assembly. With Ning Biluo absent from the main skirmish, no one dared to make any hasty moves in his absence!

If Ning Biluo and Zhao Pingtian had an aggregated fighting prowess of ten thousand, then Zhao Pingtian\'s individual strength alone was believed to exceed four thousand. As for the men in black, the majority of them could muster only around thirty points each in terms of combat capability, with their ceiling capped at a hundred points. In essence, the disparity between four thousand or ten thousand points and their own abilities was so immense that it rendered their assailants nigh invulnerable.

Just when the situation appeared to be settling, a resounding laugh permeated the battlefield, "Zhao Pingtian? The Killer King? What grandiose titles. Let me challenge you, Killer King, and bring you down to the muck where you belong!"

Subsequently, a brilliant blue sword light materialized, its radiance reminiscent of the undulating sea. From afar, a colossal, cloaked figure descended, concealing his visage with a mask, while his sword emanated a frigid luminescence. He unflinchingly directed a formidable strike toward Zhao Pingtian.

The sword\'s trajectory resembled a sinuous, flowing tapestry, the luminous tail of the blade seemingly endless in its reach. Zhao Pingtian reacted with a disdainful snort, immediately drawing his own sword without hesitation. The blade he wielded was the one bestowed upon him by Cha Eun Xiao. While it might be an exaggeration to claim it was superior to his former sword by a factor of ten thousand, it was unquestionably a hundredfold better.

Cha Eun Xiao possessed a trove of exceptional treasures, and when bestowing a sword upon Zhao Pingtian, he naturally selected one of the utmost quality, suitable for a practitioner of Zhao Pingtian\'s caliber.

The clash between the two blades was thunderous, echoing through the surroundings. The onlookers were momentarily stunned by the cacophonous impact, their ears ringing from the shockwave. Zhao Pingtian was forced to step back, retreating approximately ten meters, while his adversary, the enigmatic behemoth who had suddenly appeared, executed a deft mid-air somersault, nimbly moving in the opposite direction. Astonishingly, he emerged unscathed, leaving those in attendance perplexed and inquisitive about his true identity.

Zhao Pingtian, too, was intrigued and wore a frosty expression as he inquired, "And who might you be? Your notoriety precedes you. Reveal your name, for true heroes do not conceal their identities behind masks."

The mysterious figure replied in a raspy voice, "I am but a humble assassin. Assassins dwell within the shadows, and I lay no claim to heroism."

The enigmatic figure couldn\'t contain his laughter. "Zhao Pingtian, where has your sword gone?" With a graceful yet menacing swing of his longsword, he launched another attack, this time more aggressive, clearly seeking a challenging duel.

Zhao Pingtian seethed with anger. It was apparent that this mysterious adversary was on par with his own skill. Moreover, this enigmatic combatant seemed acutely familiar with Zhao Pingtian\'s fighting style. The earlier clash between their swords was a testament to that familiarity. If not for the upgraded sword bestowed by Cha Eun Xiao, Zhao Pingtian\'s previous blade would have surely shattered, despite his higher cultivation level. The consequences would have been disastrous.

Zhao Pingtian\'s thoughts raced. This masked opponent had come with the sole intention of ending his life. Familiarity with Zhao Pingtian\'s fighting techniques, as demonstrated in their earlier clash, hinted at a meticulously planned assassination. Zhao Pingtian understood that this individual needed to be eliminated.

"Very well. I shall send you to the netherworld. In death, all men bear the same name," Zhao Pingtian retorted coldly as his sword transformed into a luminous streak, encircling his body. He ceased his verbal exchange and zeroed in on his adversary, ready for a fierce battle. The ensuing conflict was intense, marked by exchanges of blows, and they swiftly shifted their battleground.

They traversed rooftops and soared into the skies, engaged in a harrowing mid-air clash. Both combatants remained silent, sharing an unspoken understanding: the first one to fall would be the loser.

Within mere minutes, the formidable figures from Ling-Bao Hall were incapacitated, rendering them ineffective in further unsettling their assailants. The sudden loss of their two stalwart champions prompted the men in black to refocus on their primary objectives. Many infiltrated Ling-Bao Hall, initiating a bloodbath within its walls.

Liu Changjun, akin to a phantom, traversed the compound with lethal efficiency. His sword gleamed with silver radiance as he dispatched three men in black with swift, lethal slashes to their throats. A group of over a dozen assailants observed the sheer lethality of his swordsmanship, and without hesitation, they converged upon him with a murderous resolve. Liu Changjun opted for a tactical retreat, expertly evading their assault by leaping through a window into a corridor. In the blink of an eye, he executed three swift strikes, and the bloodied bodies of his pursuers fell lifelessly to the floor.

His agility and precision were astounding, a testament to his mastery of the assassin\'s craft. Subsequently, he darted back through the window into the courtyard, where he deftly neutralized seven additional assailants who had besieged him. A gruesome spectacle unfolded, as seven streams of blood shot into the air, each forming a crimson arc under the moonlight, testament to Liu Changjun\'s incredible skill.

The battle raged on, yet the assassins on both sides fought in eerie silence. Amongst the shadows, no words were exchanged; they were all seasoned killers, and there was no need for verbal communication. Cha Eun Xiao\'s subordinates and the invading men in black clashed relentlessly.

Cha Eun Xiao had previously arranged for the Ling-Bao Hall staff to vacate the premises as night fell, foreseeing the potential for such a calamity. They were now safely concealed in secure locations, far from the impending danger.

Meanwhile, the city remained oblivious to the tumult within Ling-Bao Hall, as the chaos unfolded silently, only punctuated by the occasional shout or exclamation of agony.

High above, amidst the aerial combat, a voice erupted, followed by the resounding collision of Ning Biluo\'s sword against Boundless Saint\'s blade, echoing through the night.