Chapter 104: Chilled to the Bone!

Zuo Lengjian roared inwardly, his long sword in hand seemingly sensing his fury and emitting a low hum. Such was the way of Zuo Lenghan—usually reserved, rarely speaking much, and indifferent to most matters. But today, at this very moment, Mo Han’s arrogance had pushed him past his limits. The palm he brought down on Mo Han’s head carried even greater force.

Just then, Zuo Lengdan, who had been watching Mo Han intently, was suddenly seized by a sense of foreboding. “Be careful!” Zuo Lengdan shouted a warning to his two brothers.

All at once, the air around Mo Han changed. It was as if a vortex had formed—growing from nothing into a forceful black hole that threatened to devour everything. And all this happened in a heartbeat.

Mo Han moved. He suddenly floated upward, stretching out a hand—seemingly slow, yet moving with lightning speed. In a flash, he seized Zuo Lengjian’s sword and unleashed a terrifying strength.

A sharp crack rang out. Zuo Lengjian’s face changed dramatically; the long sword in his grip, his supple and formidable blade as sinuous as a spirit snake, was snapped in two by Mo Han’s bare hand. How could this be? He had practiced swordsmanship for decades, his mastery far surpassing even that of Master Wu. His soft sword, a gift from his own master, had been forged from the most resilient materials—his master himself could not have broken it so easily. How could Mo Han’s inner strength be so overwhelming?

“Too weak,” Mo Han sneered, tossing the broken sword aside. Clenching his fist, he launched a punch directly at Zuo Lengjian.

“Die!”

At that moment, Zuo Lenghan had already charged forward. His voice boomed like thunder beside Mo Han’s ear, attempting to shake his concentration. His icy palm swung down viciously at Mo Han’s head, descending from above like a sky-darkening blizzard.

Mo Han paid it no mind—not even sparing Zuo Lenghan a glance. Instead, his fist struck Zuo Lengjian squarely in the chest.

With a dull thud, Zuo Lengjian’s eyes widened in shock. He wanted to dodge, but Mo Han was far too fast—like lightning and thunder, snapping his sword and landing a punch in one fluid, unstoppable motion. Zuo Lengjian let out a muffled groan as his body was sent flying backward.

Meanwhile, Zuo Lenghan’s palm descended to within a foot of Mo Han’s head, the force of his strike so powerful that Mo Han’s hair hung down and the flesh of his face was distorted by the wind.

“Die!”

Seeing he was about to shatter Mo Han’s skull with a single blow, a thrill of excitement surged through Zuo Lenghan. Yet in the very next instant, Mo Han’s hand shot up and grabbed his wrist.

Mo Han’s movement was so swift that Zuo Lenghan didn’t even see it clearly. Before he could react, the sound of snapping bone pierced the rain-soaked night. Only then did the searing pain of his broken hand register.

But it was not over. Mo Han’s right fist drew back and smashed into Zuo Lenghan’s chest.

Another dull thud. Zuo Lenghan’s body was flung backward, just as his brother had been.

“Lengjian! Lenghan!” Zuo Lengdan’s eyes went wide as he rushed desperately to his brothers’ side. The two fell almost side by side, both coughing up clots of blood, their faces ghostly pale. Mo Han’s punches had shattered their organs.

“Big brother, go… Only Master can… only he…” Zuo Lengjian’s eyes opened wide, and with that, his breath ceased.

“Lengjian!” Zuo Lengdan’s voice shook, his spirit quaking with terror. He rushed to Zuo Lenghan, but his brother hadn’t even managed to utter a final word before life left him—Mo Han’s punch was too ruthless, shattering his ribs and heart. He was already dead before he hit the ground.

“Lenghan!” Zuo Lengdan knelt before his brothers’ corpses, the lightning revealing the terror still etched on Zuo Lenghan’s face. In that final moment, how terrified he must have been! Facing Mo Han’s fist, how utterly hopeless he must have felt! With a single punch, Mo Han had slain Zuo Lengjian. With another, he killed Zuo Lenghan.

In an instant, Zuo Lengdan spun around, his gaze locking onto Mo Han beneath the great umbrella. A flash of lightning revealed Mo Han standing proudly beneath the canopy, his eyes calm and indifferent—as if regarding an ant.

Contempt. Disdain.

How could Mo Han be so strong? He looked no more than twenty-something. Even if he’d been cultivating since the womb, it would amount to mere decades—how could he be so terrifying?

Zuo Lengdan rose slowly, his heart pounding with dread. This was the strongest foe he had ever faced. Mo Han’s strength was such that, unless his master intervened personally, none could contend with him.

Suddenly, Zuo Lengdan felt this was all a trap. With Mo Han’s power, he could have easily seized control of the city’s underworld. Yet he had not killed Master Wu or Ba Dao, nor had he moved against Xu Biao, Qinglong, and the others. He was creating an illusion for outsiders—that while he had defeated Master Wu, he lacked the strength to dominate the city. That was what led Zuo Lengdan to believe he could vie for supremacy here.

Little did he know, that very decision had doomed him. His son was dead—killed by Mo Han. His three brothers—also dead, by Mo Han’s hand. And then there were the elite fighters of the Zuo family…

Zuo Lengdan turned his gaze to the brutal battle raging in the rain, and his heart constricted with fear. Mo Han’s thirty-two men had plunged into the ranks of his two hundred Zuo family elites like wolves among sheep—each move simple, yet overwhelmingly fierce, every technique designed to kill, swift and decisive.

Especially Li Qilang and Xu Jing, who each snatched a foe by the throat and, with a twist and a sickening crack, broke their necks in an instant.

Though Zuo Lengdan himself remained unafraid of such force, his family’s elites were no match. More crucially, these thirty-two men fought like a pack of wolves—ferocious and merciless. The Zuo family had no way to resist. Their only options were death, or fleeing blindly into the rainy darkness, wailing for mercy as they scattered. They no longer even had the courage to fight back.

Another dull thud—one more fell.

Zuo Lengdan was chilled to the core, watching his men fall one by one. He saw his two hundred elites scream and attempt to flee, only to be hunted down mercilessly. He heard their desperate pleas for mercy, yet none escaped death.

Screaming in agony, his face twisted in rage, Zuo Lengdan howled, “Mo Han! Mo Han, you will regret this!”

He shouted, but did not dare approach. Even though he was stronger than Zuo Lengjian and Zuo Lenghan, he knew with certainty—if he charged forward, he would die without question.

He glared at Mo Han, but retreated step by step. Mo Han, of course, saw that Zuo Lengdan intended to flee, but showed not the slightest intention of giving chase.

“There may be people in this world who can make me regret,” Mo Han said quietly, “but you, Zuo Lengdan, are not one of them.”

Watching as Zuo Lengdan finally abandoned even his son’s corpse to escape, Mo Han shook his head, a look of scorn flickering in his eyes.