"Could this person really be the Number One Bandit Under Heaven, Shawn Steele?"
He just looks a bit handsome, but is there really anything special about him?
He's this young—could he be a fake?
The Number One Bandit Under Heaven is this young and yet so powerful—could it all just be rumors?
In the minds of the martial artists, the Number One Bandit Under Heaven should be a burly man with a thick waist, stout legs, a face full of beard, and a wild, rugged aura. But now that they saw him, he was actually a handsome young man, so many people began to doubt.
"Greetings, Chief!"
Eve Autumn and the others all bowed respectfully.
"No need to be so formal!"
Shawn Steele nodded calmly, then fixed his gaze on the gray-robed elder. "Their courage comes from me. And yours—who gave it to you? Daring to lay hands on my people, have you considered the consequences?"
His casual words fell on the elder's ears, sending a chill through his whole body. He was already starting to regret stepping forward, but now he was riding a tiger and couldn't back down. So he steeled himself and shouted at Shawn Steele, "Shawn Steele, are you trying to make an enemy of every martial artist under heaven?"
"Eve Autumn, what are you all standing around for? Kill the rest of them!" Shawn Steele suddenly ordered Eve Autumn and the others.
"Yes!"
The twenty-some people who thought they'd escaped disaster instantly turned pale with fear and tried to flee into the crowd.
A blur of movement—Eve Autumn blocked their escape, her longsword sweeping out, sending silvery sword-qi flying...
Screams rang out again and again. In a flash, another ten or so died under her sword. Lone-Blade Gideon and the others, eager to prove themselves, unleashed their own signature moves and attacked the remaining targets.
"Ah! Ah!"
"No, please!"
"I'll pay the silver!"
Unfortunately, it was too late. In less than three breaths, every last person who'd urinated was executed. For a moment, a chill ran through the hearts of all the other martial artists—especially the gray-robed elder, whose face turned deathly pale.
Then, Shawn Steele's gaze once again fell upon the gray-robed elder.
The gray-robed elder shivered involuntarily and blustered, "Shawn Steele, I am an elder of the Empyreal Heart Sect. How do you intend to treat me?"
Shawn Steele looked at him and said slowly, "You have two choices: cripple one arm and roll down Sunrise Peak, or die!"
On hearing this, the gray-robed elder roared furiously, "How dare you! If you kill me, the entire Empyreal Heart Sect will hunt you to the death!"
"Heh! I don't even care about the Three Great Holy Lands, so what is your Empyreal Heart Sect to me?"
Shawn Steele sneered with disdain.
The gray-robed elder's face turned even paler. "I'll fight you to the end!"
Roaring, the elder charged at Shawn Steele, raising his hand to strike with a palm.
To everyone's surprise, just as the elder struck out with his palm, he suddenly retreated, clearly intending to feint and then escape.
He was fast—almost instantly, he reached the front of the crowd. His eyes flashed with hope: if he could get into the crowd of ten thousand, he'd have a good chance to escape.
"Puff! Puff!"