The Untamed Series 3: Love Affair (Under Revision)

Eleventh Met: Unmatched

Third Person POV

In a dense forest near Qinghe, Lan Wangji, embarked on a solitary journey to deliver the cure for the saber's curse to the Qinghe Sect.

As Wangji ventured deeper into the forest, his senses attuned to the subtle whispers of nature, a sudden disturbance shattered the tranquility. Like shadows emerging from the depths of darkness, a group of assassins materialized, their presence ominous and foreboding. They formed a formidable barrier, blocking Wangji's path with an air of calculated menace.

With an air of quiet authority, the leader of the assassins stepped forward, his voice dripping with a mixture of confidence and malevolence. "Your Highness, we have come to fulfill a certain someone's order," he declared, his words laced with a chilling determination that sent shivers down the spines of all who heard him.

Lan Wangji's gaze, cool and unwavering, met the leader's eyes, his face a mask of serenity amidst the brewing storm. His voice, calm and measured, cut through the tension like a blade through silk. "Whose order?" he inquired, his tone betraying none of the emotions swirling within him.

The leader of the assassins smirked, confident in their ability to overpower the Chief Cultivator. "You don't need to know," he sneered, giving the signal for his comrades to attack.

As the assassins surrounded Lan Wangji, he remained calm and composed, his eyes scanning the forest, assessing the situation. With a sigh, he realized that there was no avoiding this confrontation.

Boredom mingled with a quiet confidence as he stood his ground, prepared to face the onslaught that awaited him.

"Very well," he said, his voice steady and unwavering. "If you insist on attacking me, then I shall defend myself."

With lightning speed, Lan Wangji unsheathed his sword, the gleaming blade catching the sunlight as he assumed a defensive stance. The assassins hesitated for a moment, taken aback by his calm demeanor and unwavering resolve.

The leader of the assassins, sensing the danger, barked out orders to his comrades. As the assassins lunged forward, their weapons aimed at his heart, Lan Wangji's body moved with a grace and agility that seemed almost supernatural. His every step, every twist and turn, was executed flawlessly, as if he were dancing with the wind itself.

The clash of weapons reverberated through the forest, a symphony of steel meeting steel. Lan Wangji's sword, an extension of his very being, moved with a fluidity that mesmerized all who witnessed it. It deflected each strike with precision, like a shield forged from his unwavering determination.

The forest, a silent witness to the battle, seemed to hold its breath as the dance between life and death unfolded before its ancient trees. Leaves rustled in anticipation, as if whispering encouragement to the Chief Cultivator.

The forest whispered its admiration, its ancient trees standing tall as witnesses to the battle of wills. Leaves rustled in awe, as if applauding the display of skill and courage that unfolded beneath their branches.

As the battle raged on, Lan Wangji's boredom became palpable, evident in the sigh that escaped his lips. His eyes roamed the forest surroundings with disinterest, his mind seemingly elsewhere. The assassins, fueled by frustration and desperation, launched themselves at him with renewed vigor, their attacks becoming increasingly frenzied.

But with every defeated opponent, Lan Wangji's confidence soared, his determination unyielding. The assassins soon realized the futility of their efforts, their initial arrogance replaced by fear and desperation.

Undeterred by their futile attempts, Wangji effortlessly dispatched each assailant that dared to challenge him. His movements were a symphony of precision and calculated grace, as he swiftly incapacitated his opponents, rendering them helpless and immobile.