However, Grace Collins remained silent. The long spear slid out from her hand; she gripped the end of the spear with one hand, held it level, and drew a semicircle in the old courtyard, pointing it at Henry Blake. At the same time, she lifted her bamboo hat, revealing a ghost-faced mask on her face.

Holding the end of a nine-foot spear with one hand and raising it—without solid skills, this would be impossible.

Henry Blake saw this and, without showing any emotion, stepped half a pace back, gripping his saber with his left hand, fully on guard. But the other party did not attack directly; instead, she held the spear level and gave her long wrist a light shake.

Pa—

In the deep alley under the moon, a whip-like crack rang out.

The black cloth wrapped around the spear instantly split into shreds, revealing the black-lacquered shaft of the long spear.

The silver spear tip glimmered with a cold, eerie light under the moon. As the black cloth shattered, the spear tip let out a dragon-like trembling hum:

Wng~~~

Henry Blake's eyes showed a hint of surprise. He could easily hold the spear with one hand, but to shatter the wrapping cloth with a shake was beyond his ability.

Knowing he was outmatched, Henry Blake's expression showed a trace of 'delight' as he looked toward the courtyard gate:

“Hero Wang?!”

Grace Collins quickly turned her head to check.

Bang—

Henry Blake stomped the ground and shot upward, leaping onto the rooftop and dashing madly toward the bustling street.

Unfortunately, this trick might work on ordinary martial artists, but the one who came tonight was no ordinary person!

As Henry Blake landed on the roof, he didn't hear any movement behind him, but above, a violent whooshing sound split the air.

Swish—

Henry Blake drew his blade, and out of the corner of his eye, he was shocked to see that the straw-hatted figure, who had just stood motionless, had now leapt even higher, soaring three zhang into the air. With both hands gripping the spear, she brought it down toward his head with the force of splitting a mountain.

The house was only about one zhang high—this jump was equivalent to three stories. In his life, Henry Blake had never seen anyone jump so high, and he couldn't help but feel alarmed!

Facing this overwhelming attack, Henry Blake quickly raised his saber horizontally above his head, bracing the back of the blade with his right hand.

Clang—

Crash—

Amid the clash of metal, the old rooftop instantly collapsed.

Henry Blake was smashed into the house by the spear, feeling a brute force within the weapon that he simply could not withstand. Even after landing, his feet ached from the shock.

“Please wait, hero…”

Henry Blake tried to talk his way out, but the sudden spear-wielder gave him no chance. She plunged through the hole in the roof, thrusting the spear straight at his face.

Clang—

Henry Blake slashed horizontally with his saber. With a loud crash, sparks flew in the room, snuffing out the flickering candle.

The spear that had pierced through the roof was like a thousand-pound iron pillar, forced aside slightly by his blow.

Henry Blake seized the opportunity to leap up, gripping his saber with both hands, and slashed along the spear shaft toward the straw-hatted figure’s fingers, attempting a counterattack.

But the intruder tapped the spear tip on the ground and, in reverse, flew out of the house, landing lightly on the rooftop, the spear tip slanting toward the courtyard, making no further move to attack.

Seeing this, Henry Blake hastily stopped, holding his saber with both hands in front of him, maintaining a defensive stance.

Thump, thump, thump…

The moonlit courtyard fell into dead silence, the sound of a nearly explosive heartbeat clearly audible.

Sweat beaded on Henry Blake's forehead as he stood motionless, saber in hand, staring at the figure on the roof.

After a moment of standoff, the person on the roof slightly lifted the bamboo hat and spoke in a hoarse, genderless voice:

“You don’t know the ‘Eight-Step Mad Blade’?”

Henry Blake frowned. He had practiced martial arts with his adoptive father since childhood, learning only standard saber and spear techniques, and had never heard of the Eight-Step Mad Blade.

As for any related manuals, he had never encountered them. The books in the border town that described the martial world were all things like “Tears of the Heroine,” “Tales of Martial Passion,” and “Legend of the Gallant Hero,” which he had read plenty of. He hadn’t learned any moves, but had picked up a bunch of poses…

“I’m just an escort, never heard of the Eight-Step Mad Blade. I only know a few mixed styles. Perhaps you’ve got the wrong person.”

“The ‘Eight-Step Mad Blade’ was created by the saber master of the previous dynasty and passed down to the saber grandmaster ‘Zheng Feng.’ Today, when you drew your blade at Mingyu Tower, your opening move resembled the Eight-Step Mad Blade. The authorities will likely come looking for you soon. But since you truly don’t know it, don’t worry—at most, I’ll just give you another beating to test your skills.”

Another beating?

Henry Blake could roughly guess that ‘Zheng Feng’ was his adoptive father Richard Collins’s martial world alias. He truly hadn’t expected his adoptive father to be a real grandmaster.

But if you had such amazing saber skills, why didn’t you teach me sooner?

If you weren’t going to teach, why show me the opening move? What if someone recognized it…

Looks like I can’t burn incense for you this year…

A thousand thoughts raced through Henry Blake’s mind, but his expression remained natural. Seeing that the other party seemed to be giving a kind reminder, he asked:

“I’ve never heard of these things. Who are you, sir?”

“The Red God of Wealth.”

Henry Blake recalled the name and was secretly shocked—he had heard of the ‘Red God of Wealth,’ the title of the master of the ‘Red Flower Pavilion,’ also known as the ‘Spear King,’ ranked seventh in the world, even higher than his adoptive father’s old rivals.

Although rumors said the ‘Spear King’ had changed hands, a starved camel is still bigger than a horse—no wonder this person was so formidable…

“So you’re the master of the Red Flower Pavilion. I’ve long admired your reputation. May I ask, senior, what brings you here to instruct a junior like me?”

“I see you have potential and I value talent. Would you like to learn the spear?”

Henry Blake was taken aback: “Senior, you wish to take me as your disciple?”

Grace Collins, holding the long spear with its tip slanting to the ground, replied with the air of a true master: