THE HUNTER OF DARKNESS

The Heretic Masks Sect

Fang An stepped forward a few paces. The tip of the sword in his right hand pointed straight at the members of the Heretic Mask Sect, who had begun to show signs of fear.

"I don't care what problem you have with them, but as long as I still breathe, I won't let misguided people like you live any longer!"

The sixteen members of the Heretic Mask Sect exchanged uneasy glances. Despite outnumbering their opponent, none of them had the confidence that they could defeat the white-haired young man standing before them—especially since there was no powerful fighter among them.

"We have no quarrel with you, Warrior. Our issue is only with them. Please, don't interfere," said one of them in a respectful tone.

A mocking smirk played on Fang An’s lips. He turned his head slightly and called out to one of the five men he had just rescued, gesturing him to come closer.

"If I were weak, you wouldn’t be saying that, would you? In fact, you would probably have killed me already."

Fang An shifted his gaze to the man once he arrived by his side.

"Did you have any issues with them before, Uncle?"

The well-dressed man, who looked like a high-ranking official, furrowed his brows briefly before shaking his head.

"We've never had any problems with them, Warrior. In fact, they were the ones trying to rob us. Their leader is named Lung Wei, also known as the Warrior of the Serpent Valley."

A wide grin spread across Fang An's face.

"Return to your place, Uncle."

Fang An once again pointed his sword at the Heretic Mask Sect members.

"You truly are lost souls. Which means I now have even more reason to end you!"

"You've picked a fight with the Heretic Mask Sect, you bastard!" one of them shouted. "Attack him!"

At that point, there was no turning back—at least, that’s what they believed. Running would be pointless. The only road ahead was to strike with everything they had.

The sixteen members of the Heretic Mask Sect moved to encircle Fang An from all sides. It was clear they no longer cared about their lives. Kill or be killed—that was all that remained in their minds.

The firm stomp of Fang An’s right foot on the ground signaled the beginning of the battle. He struck with both swords, slashing four enemies who were within reach.

Shrill cries of death echoed through the air just before the four lives were claimed. Two fell with gaping wounds across their necks. The other two died as their bellies were torn open, intestines spilling out grotesquely onto the ground.

"That was so fast!" That was all the remaining members of the sect could think. Their minds froze in shock, overwhelmed by fear of death.

Before they could even recover from their astonishment, three more of their comrades were decapitated, their heads rolling down the slight slope of the bloodied ground.

It was sheer horror for the remaining nine. In only a few moves, seven of their companions had been slaughtered savagely. The metallic stench of blood clogged their nostrils, further draining what little courage they had left.

Meanwhile, the five men rescued by Fang An couldn’t stop shaking their heads in disbelief. They were awestruck by the sheer skill and speed shown by the white-haired young man. Despite his youth, he fought with the ferocity and mastery of a seasoned warrior.

And yet, what confused them was that they had never heard of any young man—or warrior—with Fang An’s unique features: white hair, light golden skin, and narrow eyes typical of the Mongoloid race.

More death cries rang out. One by one, the remaining Heretic Mask Sect members fell like piles of useless garbage scattered across the forest floor.

Now, only four were left. Step by step, they backed away, overwhelmed by terror. The young man they had underestimated had turned into a God of Death, ready to snatch away their final breaths.

"This time, you can feel the same fear your victims felt when you tried to take their lives. Savor these last breaths—before I cut them off permanently!" Fang An spoke calmly, but the intensity in his voice deeply rattled their minds.

Suddenly, Fang An furrowed his brow. His eyes shifted rapidly, scanning the area as he sensed a strong presence nearby.

Within five seconds, a figure in black clothing and a matching iron mask darted from a distance and landed in front of the four remaining sect members. In their hand was a black staff, carved with a coiling serpent from top to bottom.

"Leader!" the four shouted in unison. Their faces showed clear relief upon the arrival of their sect’s leader.

The newly arrived figure—none other than the leader of the Heretic Mask Sect—snorted in fury as she surveyed the corpses of her slain followers. Her grip on the serpent-carved staff tightened, her breath coming in heavy bursts.

"Is this boy the one responsible?"

"Yes, Leader. He's the one who butchered our comrades."

The masked figure, now revealed to be a woman, glared at Fang An with seething hatred. Flames of rage burned visibly in her pitch-black eyes.

"So, you have the guts to challenge the Heretic Mask Sect, young man."

Just as the official-looking man had said earlier, Fang An was certain that this woman was Lung Wei, the Warrior of the Serpent Valley. A calm smile formed on his crimson lips.

"So, Lung Wei, the Warrior of the Serpent Valley, has finally arrived. Good. Now I don’t have to waste time hunting you down."

Lung Wei furrowed her deeply wrinkled brow. Judging by his words, the young man seemed to know her. Yet, after observing him closely, she couldn’t recall ever seeing or hearing of a white-haired youth like him.

Still, she felt a spark of pride deep down. It meant her name had become well known among warriors, confirming that the title Warrior of the Serpent Valley was no empty boast.

"Just who are you, boy? Why have I never seen or heard of you in the martial world?" Lung Wei asked.

Her question was understandable. With such distinct features—especially the white hair—someone like Fang An should have been on her radar.

"What good would it do to tell you my name," Fang An replied, "when you’re just going to die with it buried in your thoughts?"

"Filthy brat!" Lung Wei roared. Her black eyes flared with burning emotion.