David Harris's excited voice came from not far away. William Clark, who was still negotiating with Ethan Brooks, suddenly panicked—his own house was in that direction!

Bang! The wooden door of the cabin was violently kicked open by David Harris. Edward Clark's horrified voice immediately rang out from inside the house: “Brother—!”

“David Harris!” William Clark turned and rushed anxiously toward his house, shouting, “David Harris, stop! Get out of my house!”

Chapter 3: Dragon Arts

“This is your house?” David Harris stopped at the doorway, holding a burning torch. The sinister grin on his face looked especially menacing in the firelight, his tone carrying a chilling excitement as he licked his lips. “Your little sister looks pretty good, huh? Still a virgin, right? Today I’ll take her virginity for you, and you’ll have to pay me a deflowering fee later.”

“You two, hold him down for me! Pin him to the ground and make him watch how I play with his sister.” David Harris laughed wickedly. “Dare to block my whip? Today I’ll teach you a good lesson!”

The two bandits standing beside David Harris laughed and strode toward William Clark, saying crudely, “Brother Liu, you get the first taste, but save some for us. This little chick looks sickly, but we want to have some fun too.”

“Fine, no problem!” David Harris didn’t even look at William Clark, turning and striding into William Clark’s house.

“David Harris!” William Clark’s eyes widened in fury. In a panic, he hurled the clay jar in his hand at the back of David Harris’s head. He usually hunted in the mountains, using rough homemade bows and arrows or throwing stones, and had developed excellent aim.

The clay jar spun rapidly through the air, coins inside clinking and rattling, whipping up a flurry of snow as it shot between the two bandits. A chill rushed past their ears, and then the jar smashed directly into the back of David Harris’s head.

The hard clay jar, weighted with heavy coins and thrown by a strong arm, shattered the back of David Harris’s skull. Red and white matter mixed together and oozed from the wound. David Harris didn’t even have time to scream before collapsing face-first to the ground, his limbs twitching involuntarily. The snowflakes that had just blown into the room brushed over the blood, instantly melting into bloody water that slowly spread outward.

The sudden turn of events left the two bandits stunned. Not far away, Ethan Brooks saw this scene, his brow twitching violently, the hideous scar on his face convulsing, and an even more terrifying murderous intent emerging.

William Clark didn’t care about anything else. While everyone was still in shock, he rushed into the room, grabbed the kitchen knife from the stove, and gripped it tightly in his hand. He positioned himself in front of the bed, shielding Edward Clark, and stared deathly at the bandits outside the door.

The two bandits who had tried to pin down William Clark shrank back a step under his fierce gaze, both feeling as if they’d been targeted by a wild beast in the forest.

The sinister aura on Ethan Brooks’s face grew even more terrifying. Suddenly, he put a hand to his mouth and blew a piercing whistle. The bandits who had been busy committing their crimes all stopped at once, hearing their leader’s furious roar: “This village dares to fight back against me! Challenge my authority! If word of this gets out, how will I rule the surrounding area?! Brothers, slaughter the village! Kill all the men! Take all the women! Do whatever you want with them!”

The bandits, fired up by their boss’s command, drew their sabers and began indiscriminately hacking at the men around them.

The old village chief, witnessing this hellish massacre, collapsed to the ground. Before he could react, Ethan Brooks’s warhorse stomped down and crushed his skull.

The old chief’s frail body slowly toppled to the ground.

“Somebody, restrain that brat for me!” Ethan Brooks, still on horseback, shouted loudly. “Dare to resist me? Today I’ll do it myself—right in front of him, I’ll fuck his sister to death!”

Six bloodstained bandits rushed toward William Clark’s house, sabers in hand. The fastest one burst into the room and slashed at William Clark. The gleaming blade, carrying the chill from outside, sent a wave of cold air across his face before the edge even touched him. The bandit was quite pleased with his strike, already imagining William Clark’s scream as his arm was severed.

Ah!

A scream rang out a moment later, shrill and echoing over the village. But it wasn’t William Clark who screamed—it was the triumphant bandit, now kneeling in agony, clutching his severed right wrist with his left hand as blood spurted out like a fountain.

The other bandits who had rushed into the room were stunned. How could this kid’s kitchen knife be so fast? The way he moved just now… he looked just like a wolf in the forest!

William Clark stood guard in front of Edward Clark like a lone wolf, his beast-like eyes making the bandits instinctively step back.

“Useless!” Ethan Brooks jumped off his horse and strode into the room. Suddenly, a red line of blood appeared in his eyes, running straight through his eyeball. Red streaks appeared on both cheeks, looking like birthmarks but flickering with a faint, eerie red light.

A dragon beast! William Clark’s heart pounded wildly. Facing Ethan Brooks, he suddenly felt as if he were confronting a dragon beast in the jungle!