Samuel Carter swept his eyes over them and immediately knew these people were only dressed to look frightening. Judging by their cautious and careful demeanor, they were definitely not death warriors or assassins—if they were assassins from the old Window of Heaven, not to mention losing a companion, even if their own necks were in someone else’s hands, they would still charge toward their target without hesitation. And they certainly weren’t the legendary Ghosts either; the Ghosts all acted independently and could never be so coordinated. It seemed these people were deliberately targeting the The Brooks Family.

He slowly straightened his sleeves, as if his tattered clothes were still the silver-trimmed robes of years past. Halfway through the motion, he realized it was inappropriate, so he stopped, smiled to himself, and said, “Everyone, it’s so early in the morning, and you didn’t even say hello before rushing at an unarmed child. Isn’t that beneath your status?”

Author’s note: Next chapter, a proper introduction for Brother Walker...

6

6. Chapter Six: The Beauty ...

No one present uttered a word. They exchanged quick glances, then ignored Charles Brooks, slowly forming a circle to surround Grace Miller and Samuel Carter.

Grace Miller sighed softly and said, “Bad luck this year. I haven’t done a good deed in three hundred years, and the moment I act, I get myself into trouble. Brother Carter, I’m just a weak woman, never seen such a big scene before. I’m really scared and need your protection.”

That last line was so outrageous it was almost shocking. Samuel Carter nearly lost his breath, giving Grace Miller—who looked completely unfazed—a deeply exasperated look.

Grace Miller met his gaze with a pitiful, resentful expression.

The masked men clearly found their mutual, ambiguous glances out of place. Someone whistled, and the leader made the first move. The others followed, forming a net-like formation that pressed the two of them tightly inside.

Grace Miller finally turned serious, let out a curious “huh,” dropped her act, ignored Samuel Carter, drew her small dagger, and charged forward.

As soon as she engaged, she realized how formidable the formation was. She’d always had confidence in her skills, and any one of the fourteen opponents might not be her match alone, but the way they pressed in, seamless and relentless, felt like countless hands and feet coming at her from all directions, like crashing waves. She couldn’t help but fight as she retreated, and the formation shrank with her, forcing her back until she had nowhere left to go.

Grace Miller was secretly alarmed and had already retreated to Samuel Carter’s side. The two stood back to back. Samuel Carter’s gaze grew serious as he stared at them without blinking, and said quietly to Grace Miller, “I’ve underestimated them.”

Grace Miller, struggling to keep up, a light sweat on her brow, asked, “What kind of formation is this...?”

Samuel Carter replied, “I’ve never seen it, but I’ve heard of a formation—fourteen people form it, called the Eight Desolations and Six Harmonies Array. It’s endless and inexhaustible. If coordinated well, every tiny flaw is perfectly covered by another, seamless as a whole...”

Grace Miller cried out in surprise. Samuel Carter raised his hand to block, using his bare flesh to collide with a descending blade, forcefully knocking it aside.

Grace Miller quickly asked, “So what do we do?”

Samuel Carter didn’t answer. His gaze sharpened, and suddenly he leapt up, stepping onto the incense table. The old, dust-covered table didn’t even wobble as he used it to launch himself higher. Three people immediately leapt up to intercept him, their blades blocking every escape, but unexpectedly, Samuel Carter retreated instead of advancing, moving like a fish through water, weaving among them, and in the blink of an eye, he was at the side of the Buddha statue.

Then, without any visible exertion, he gave a light shout, pushed with his hand, and the stone Buddha was sent flying by his palm. Samuel Carter recited, “Merciful Buddha, save your disciple this once.”

No one knew how heavy that stone Buddha was, but it came hurtling forward with a gust of wind. Grace Miller was startled, quickly ducked aside, and felt the wind brush over her scalp. The three attacking Samuel Carter were still in midair, caught off guard by his speed, unable to find footing or dodge, and could only try to block together. But how could they withstand it? They were knocked aside by the Buddha, tearing a gap in the previously impenetrable formation.

Grace Miller chuckled, “This is interesting.”

She didn’t hesitate—her hand flicked, and in a flash, an arrow shot from her sleeve. The man facing her took it right in the face, collapsing backward before he could even make a sound.

The rest were no longer a threat. Grace Miller’s killing intent was roused, and she fought them fiercely without holding back.

Samuel Carter’s earlier move had already exhausted his not-yet-recovered inner energy, leaving his limbs numb. He stopped trying to show off and calmly sat down on the incense table.

After a while, Grace Miller finally noticed, and in the midst of the chaos couldn’t help but turn and curse, “Susan Carter, what are you doing?”

Samuel Carter replied lazily, “Sister Miller, I’m just a weak beggar, never seen such a scene before. I’m really scared and need your protection.”

Grace Miller was so infuriated her hand shook, stabbing a masked man straight through the chest. The dagger got stuck in his ribs and she couldn’t pull it out.