Chapter Eight: The Fierce Battle in the Forest of the Frozen Abyss

Lu Han, after all, had reached the sixth tier of Postnatal cultivation, possessing inner strength that made him far swifter than ordinary men. In less than three hours, he arrived at the Forest of Cold Abyss.

The Forest of Cold Abyss earned its name from the perpetual chill that shrouded it. In earlier years, people often came to its outskirts to gather herbs, but fewer ventured here nowadays, for the outer reaches had been all but stripped bare. As for the forest’s depths, ever since those two Mystic Lords had entered years ago and never returned, no one dared set foot within. If even Mystic Lords never emerged, then those of Postnatal or even Innate cultivation would surely be courting death. Thus, the Forest of Cold Abyss had grown desolate in recent times.

“According to the mission token, the Violet Spirit Flower should be on the southern Watercloud Cliff,” Lu Han murmured to himself.

“Night is falling soon. I’d best hurry and pluck the Violet Spirit Flower, then head back. If I can cure Uncle Lie’s poison with it, I’m sure Ru Ge will be delighted.” With this thought, Lu Han stepped into the Forest of Cold Abyss.

The forest was steeped in silence. The dense canopy blotted out the sky, letting little light through. Occasionally, a squirrel darted by.

It was June, yet upon entering, Lu Han immediately sensed a chill—a testament to the forest’s reputation. Despite his cultivation and inner strength, which ought to shield him from ordinary cold, he found the forest anything but simple.

In less than half an hour, Lu Han reached Watercloud Cliff. Below stretched a vast abyss; looking down, all he could see was a blanket of white mist, the bottom lost in obscurity.

He found it odd. The Violet Spirit Flower was supposed to be behind the great stone, yet there was nothing there—no withering, no sign of it being picked. Could the family have been mistaken?

“Well, well, Young Master Lu, what are you searching for? Need some help?” A masked man in black had appeared behind Lu Han, brandishing a long blade.

“Who are you? What do you want? How do you know my surname is Lu?” Lu Han had been so focused on searching for the flower that he hadn’t noticed the newcomer.

“Money for men, disaster for men. You’re a dead man walking, so what’s the use in asking?” As soon as he finished, the masked man injected inner strength into his blade and slashed at Lu Han. The blade cut through the air with a fierce wind. Lu Han dodged at the last second, evading the strike, but the masked man immediately followed up with a palm attack. Lu Han dove forward, channeling his inner strength into his right palm, which struck the ground and sent a shockwave that propelled him into the air. He flipped backward and landed, one knee to the earth, right palm braced against the ground.

His right hand trembled; such a maneuver—channeling inner strength into the ground to launch himself—exacted a heavy toll.

The masked man was surprised. He was a cultivator at the ninth tier of Postnatal, half a step into the Innate realm. Back when he was at the sixth tier, he could never have reacted like this against someone two tiers higher.

“You have sharp reflexes, Young Master Lu, but do you really think you can change anything before someone at my eighth tier?” The masked man spoke arrogantly.

Lu Han knew he didn’t stand a chance against his opponent. Run. He sprang to his feet and bolted, with the masked man in hot pursuit.

Suddenly, Lu Han stopped cold.

“Run, why don’t you run?” mocked the masked man. Ahead lay a bottomless abyss. If Lu Han leapt in, it would save him the trouble—so the man thought.

“Brother, as far as I know, I’ve never wronged anyone. I realize I can’t escape, but at least let me die knowing why.” Lu Han glanced at the yawning chasm, then turned to face the masked man.

“Let me give you a hint: do you really think there’s such a thing as the Violet Spirit Flower? You were only lured here, nothing more.” The implication was that Lu Ran wanted him dead. But why? He had always gotten along with Lu Ran. At fifteen, Lu Han had seen little of the world’s treachery and couldn’t fathom it.

“Fine, I’ll lay it out for you. In three months, the family assembly convenes, and the old man will propose naming the Lu family’s young master. If you disappear, who stands to gain most?” The masked man was unconcerned, knowing full well Lu Han would not escape.

Lu Han understood at last: his uncle coveted the family head’s seat. Since the masked man had revealed so much, he clearly had no intention of leaving Lu Han alive.

“If I can’t escape, then I’ll fight. My father always said, ‘There’s not a coward in the Lu family.’” With a low growl, Lu Han charged the masked man.

Lu Han’s fists flashed like lightning; his legs kicked with wild fury. He attacked in a relentless barrage, but each blow was effortlessly deflected.

A flicker of surprise crossed the masked man’s eyes. A desperate last stand, was it? Reckless attacks might work against an equal, but he was two minor realms above Lu Han—no amount of courage could close that gap.

“If you want to play, I’ll humor you a little longer,” the masked man said with mocking amusement.

Sensing his opponent’s carelessness, Lu Han kicked at him. The masked man twisted his blade-wrist to parry, and Lu Han used the blade as a springboard, flipping backward and landing seven or eight meters away.

Barely landing, Lu Han exploded forward with remarkable speed. At the same time, he rapidly circulated the “Profound Water Art,” channeling inner strength to his hands. He crossed his arms before his chest, forming a series of hand seals in an instant. As his figure shot toward the masked man, his right palm thrust forward, enveloped in white energy.

“Yellow-rank Intermediate Martial Art: Shattering Star Palm!”

The masked man was dismissive at first, but as he saw the surging wave of inner strength, his left hand flashed with green light to meet the blow. The two separated after the exchange.

“Impressive—you’ve just broken through to sixth tier and can already wield martial arts like this. But I’m done playing.” The masked man’s patience had run out.

He gripped his blade in both hands, pouring green inner strength into the weapon and raising it overhead. A two-meter-wide, half-meter-thick blade of green light formed atop it.

“Azure Light Blade!”

With a thunderous shout, the blade of energy swept down at Lu Han.

Gritting his teeth, Lu Han knew he couldn’t dodge, so he met the attack head-on.

“Shattering Star Palm!”

He raised his right palm to meet the blade.

Bang—stones exploded in all directions as one of the two figures was hurled backward, crashing to the ground.

Both techniques were Yellow-rank Intermediate martial arts, but the masked man was eighth tier; Lu Han was no match and fell heavily to the earth.

“Heh heh… Young Master Lu, this is the end,” the masked man chuckled, approaching with his blade.

Lu Han coughed up a thread of blood. He tried to rise but had no strength left; his “Profound Water Art” was only Yellow-rank Intermediate, and using the Shattering Star Palm twice had exhausted all his inner strength.

The masked man stood over him, raising the blade and plunging it down.

The blade sank deep into Lu Han’s chest, staining his white robe crimson.

“Haha… I had only just begun my path to greatness, and now death awaits me here. Father, Mother, I shall repay your kindness in another life. But I won’t let you have an easy victory.” Lu Han’s laughter was bleak, his final words twisted with defiance.

Summoning some last reserve of strength, he sprang up, seized the masked man’s arm, and dragged him toward the abyss.

“You—let go! Dying and still trying to take me with you? Let go!” The masked man struggled, kicking at Lu Han, but Lu Han endured the blows in silence.

When they reached the chasm’s edge, Lu Han suddenly collapsed, losing consciousness.

“Phew… That little bastard nearly dragged me down with him. But if you want to go down so badly, I’ll oblige.” His heart still pounding with fear, the masked man shoved Lu Han’s body over the edge. Darkness crept across the land.

“Task accomplished. The old master promised that if I succeeded, he’d help me break through to the ninth tier.”

The masked figure, long blade in hand, faded into the gathering shadows…