Night fell over the city.

Four Rivers City (Sihuai City) grew even more lively as darkness descended. The first Lord of Wushuang City had once aided the founding emperor of Beili in conquering the realm. As a result, Wushuang City and its surrounding territories, including Four Rivers City, enjoyed considerable autonomy with no evening curfew. As night came, lanterns lit up in all directions, wine houses bustled with the clinking of cups, and armed martial artists roamed the streets freely.

Among them was Su Muyu.

By all accounts, with a major battle approaching, he should have been cultivating his sword energy in some quiet, secluded corner, preferably deep in the mountains. Yet he chose to remain in Four Rivers City. He wanted to take another look at this city and truly experience what made it worthy of being called the unrivaled martial city under heaven.

“Kill him! Golden Blade! Kill him! Show no mercy!” Angry roars erupted from within a wine house.

Su Muyu paused, drawn by the commotion. After a moment’s hesitation, he walked in. The wine house was spacious, but none of the patrons were sitting properly at their tables. Instead, they all stood holding their wine cups, gathered around a large circular platform in the center where two figures were engaged in combat.

Both fighters wore demon masks. One was built like a bear with towering height, wielding a massive golden cleaver – presumably the Golden Blade they had been cheering for. His opponent was a thin swordsman carrying a rusty iron sword covered in nicks and cracks. He was clearly at a disadvantage against Golden Blade, forced to dodge left and right under the assault of the enormous cleaver. His sword looked ready to shatter after just a few parries.

“Why is there such a huge difference in the quality of their weapons?” Su Muyu asked.

The people nearby glanced at him but didn’t respond. The wine house owner, smoking in the corner, explained: “Not everyone can fight on the platform. Contestants must purchase a weapon from me to qualify, and that kid only had three copper coins. I could only find him a piece of scrap iron from the junk pile.”

“Kill him! Kill him!” The patrons had worked themselves into a frenzy.

“What’s the point of killing him? Everyone bet on Golden Blade. Even if he wins, none of you will profit,” the owner said wearily, looking at the two iron plates before him. One was piled high with coins while the other sat empty. By custom, those who bet on the winner would split the losing side’s wagers proportionally, but in this case, today’s match was a waste of time. Suddenly, a flash of light struck the plate, followed by a crisp sound.

“Finally, someone bet on the kid…” someone muttered, “Though they’re being quite stingy, just one—”

“A gold piece!” The owner’s jaw dropped. In his humble establishment, anyone willing to bet a tael of silver was considered generous. A gold piece was worth several times the entire plate of coins. Yet this gold piece had been placed on the seemingly doomed swordsman.

The owner quickly looked up at the young man who had asked the question earlier. He appeared refined and handsome, likely from a noble family – no wonder he could afford such an extravagant bet. What a shame the money would be wasted.

“Since that one is called Golden Blade, what do they call the other one?” Su Muyu asked.

The owner grinned, “He gave himself a name – the Black Hunter.”

“Very well, then I’ll bet on the little beggar,” Su Muyu announced. “I wager he’ll win!”

The owner smiled slyly. If one side’s wagers couldn’t cover the other’s, the excess would go to the wine house. These young nobles from martial families were often confident yet foolish, losing fortunes without realizing they were being cheated. With the outcome so obvious, this was just another fool parting with his money.

Yet ten more exchanges passed without a clear victor. Golden Blade was now breathing heavily. Though his golden cleaver possessed immense killing power, its weight placed a tremendous burden on the wielder. Meanwhile, the Black Hunter’s weapon was practically weightless, making a prolonged fight much easier for him.

“Damn you!” Golden Blade roared. He barely managed to raise his cleaver before charging forward, bodily smashing into the Black Hunter before bringing his blade down. This strike contained all of Golden Blade’s remaining strength, and the Black Hunter had nowhere to dodge. He took the hit directly.

“It’s over!” someone cheered from below.

Su Muyu merely smiled. “Interesting.”

The Black Hunter knocked airborne, swung his sword to block the golden cleaver. With a sharp crack, his rusty blade shattered completely. But the Black Hunter seemed to have anticipated this moment. As he fell, his sleeves swept out, gathering all the fragments before flinging them upward.

Golden Blade immediately pulled back his weapon and retreated, but before he could land, the Black Hunter had already sprung toward him.

“Such swift movement!” the crowd gasped.

“The hunter finally shows his fangs,” Su Muyu smiled. “This time, I’ve won.”

As he spoke, the Black Hunter reached Golden Blade’s side. His right hand seized Golden Blade’s shoulder while his left grabbed the man’s right leg – a grappling technique. With a mighty heave, he threw Golden Blade clear off the platform.

“Look out!” the owner shouted.

The crowd that had been cheering moments ago froze in shock, only scattering for cover in the corners after the owner’s angry shout. Su Muyu stepped forward lightly, catching the burly Golden Blade in mid-air before gently setting him down.

Such a massive man felt light as a feather in his hands.

The Black Hunter removed his mask and looked at him from the platform.

Su Muyu looked up and started in surprise. The fighter was just a youth, no more than thirteen or fourteen years old. His skin was dark, and his eyes were black and bright – he looked like a child who had grown up hunting in the mountains, perfectly matching his chosen name. The Black Hunter was drenched in sweat and breathing heavily; that final move had exhausted all his strength.

“Does leaving the platform count as a loss?” Su Muyu asked the owner.

The owner paused before nodding, “Yes. The Black Hunter wins. The Black Hunter wins.”

“Damn it!” Golden Blade stood up from the ground. The throw hadn’t injured him much. He removed his mask to reveal a bearded giant of a man. He grabbed a cup of wine from nearby, drained it in one gulp, then picked up his blade and charged back toward the platform.