Chapter One Hundred and Twelve: Burned to Ashes
Among the three apprentices who survived, surprisingly, one was Jiang Shuiyuan—the worst in fistsmanship. One must admit, in matters of life and death, fate plays its part.
Just as he wielded a ghost-headed blade, slashing through the heads of the heavily injured wolf soldiers, disaster struck from the heavens. Countless divine fire jars exploded from end to end. Had he not been in a remote spot, death would have been inevitable.
Still, two of the divine fire jars spiraled down nearby. Just as his heart quaked and he braced for death, his arm was suddenly gripped tight, followed by a dizzying whirl.
The sound of explosions still echoed faintly beyond the mist.
“Brother Kou!” Jiang Shuiyuan cried out in joy, nearly moved to tears.
Kou Li held him up with one hand, while with the other, he grasped an apprentice named Huang Yuan, a master of exquisite spear technique. These two were likely the last surviving hopes of the martial arts school.
“Brother, why... why did the explosions start now?” Jiang asked in confusion. “Even if it was an ambush, it should come after a deadly struggle, not halfway through.”
“Like a mantis stalking a cicada, unaware of the oriole behind—and after the oriole, an eagle,” Kou’s ears twitched. The fighting noises had spread upward as well.
This meant the ambushers were not a single force, and their targets were more than just them.
With divine fire jars exploding everywhere, Kou Li’s only choice was to escape quickly. This was no longer just a personal grudge with the Shui Long Gang.
“Follow me!”
No one noticed that as the bloodstains and corpses increased, a gray-black mist began to seep within the milky-white blood fog. Within it, faint, ghostly figures flickered.
...
The Soulfall Valley was unexpectedly vast, shaped like a snail’s shell. The desperate struggle for survival was not Kou Li’s alone.
The One-Eyed Wolf had not regained his senses, but his opponent, Ghost Shadow, was unlucky—an explosion from behind tore him open. Two iron shards just so happened to lodge into the wounds along his meridians.
“You’ll never be a match for the Shui Long Gang. Last time it was like this, this time too. You will die—”
A flash of blade cut through the thickening fog. The One-Eyed Wolf stared in disbelief as a blade pierced his heart from behind, only then regaining consciousness.
“You will die by my hand.”
All his schemes exhausted, the One-Eyed Wolf was defeated!
“Anything you want to confess?” Kou Li asked softly, looking at Ghost Shadow’s bloodied lower half.
“So many have died. The Shui Lang Gang will surely be thrown into chaos. You kept your promise. You did it,” Ghost Shadow sneered, spitting out clumps of dark blood, “Under the third brick from the threshold of the house, besides the complete Ghost Shadow technique I recorded, there’s also my thieving skills. Pass them on for me!”
“Understood.”
The famed Jiangnan thief of ten years past, the Ghost Without a Trace, was no more.
Not long after, another corpse appeared. A powerful man, one of the Four Wolves and Eight Tigers known as the Strong Wolf. A circle of broken arrows was embedded in his back. Pulling one out revealed the arrowhead was a slot, empty—likely fitted with poison needles.
This arrow could not be blocked; only dodged. It was a cruel design.
A breeze swept by. Kou Li’s ears twitched. He pushed Jiang Shuiyuan aside just as a faint slicing sound passed. Kou Li vanished into the mist instantly.
...
After a long while, he reappeared, his sword now stained with fresh blood.
“Move!”
Kou Li’s face was grim—not out of anger at the increasing enemies, but because he sensed the strange consciousness brewing within Soulfall Valley. Unlike the illusions he’d felt from Zhao Pier and Diao Fengsheng, this consciousness seemed ready to take form.
Its power was a hundred times greater than mere illusions!
...
Elsewhere, several men in black robes gripped Iron Wolf’s neck, holding him upside down, squeezing until a lead-gray fluid oozed from his crushed features.
One whispered, “As expected, a defective product.”
“The Shui Long Gang truly is reckless.”
“Treachery!”
At the word, a sharp ‘crack’ sounded. Iron Wolf’s iron-hard forehead was crushed as if it were a melon. From the wound on the man’s hand oozed a similar lead-water—pale gold in color.
“Is it done?” asked the man seated on a large stone.
“Reporting, sir. Investigation confirms suspicions. The Shui Long Gang has been secretly concocting Immortal Mercury all these years.”
“Hmph, bold indeed,” the man turned, revealing the face of Luo Dunzi. Compared to his previously honest demeanor, his face was now dark and grim. “Also, about the earlier incident—you owe me an explanation. Why act prematurely? Were you trying to kill me as well?”
One bowed his head. “Uncertain why, but many Blood Rod assassins appeared unexpectedly, nearly ruining everything. We had to act early.”
‘Slap!’ Before he finished, Luo Dunzi slapped him. Rubbing his hand coldly, he said, “No next time.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“My lord, your identity?”
“It no longer matters if I’m exposed. Lin Xianshi has been acting under our covert orders these years. The upcoming moves too. No need for further surveillance. Let’s go.”
After they left, Luo Yi of the Iron-Toothed Wolves crawled out pale-faced from a nearby rocky hollow, his expression complicated.
Meanwhile, Kou Li encountered a familiar face—
“What’s this, Brother Yue? You’re coming to stop me too?” Kou raised an eyebrow, looking at the martial school’s chief instructor.
“Let’s go. It’s not that simple now. Everyone wants you dead,” Yue Wuho’s face was fierce, holding two severed heads. “In my hands, at least you’ll keep your corpse intact!”
“Is that so,” Kou gripped his sword tighter. In his current state, facing this great fist master of the Four Great Refineries was far from hopeful.
The mist rolled as the figure of a middle-aged man with a broken arm suddenly leapt out. His broken sword burst into white phosphorescent flames. With a stamping step, the swordlight seemed alive, the phosphor fire converging at the tip, scorching and dazzling—blinding in an instant.
Dark Sword Style—White Rainbow Piercing the Sun!
“I’ll hold him off. Go to the east side of Guang City, ten miles out. There’s a boat waiting.”
Without hesitation, Kou turned and fled. The two remaining apprentices hurried after him. Any onlooker could tell Yue Wuho was no longer the man he once was.
“Trying to run? Not that easy!”
...
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Tiger strikes tiger, tiger energy like a hammer. The clash of fists rang out like two tiger roars in the air.
“Senior brother isn’t dead. Find a way to save him,” a faint voice whispered in Kou Li’s ear.
He was then slammed back by a fierce force into the mist, where eerie ghostly laughter seemed to echo.
The corpse fog boiled, gradually spawning flickering figures that darted about, hunting for living prey.
A Blood Rod assassin hidden in a perilous spot awaited his victim. Suddenly, a strange scream sounded nearby. His dagger flashed—only to miss.
His eyes bulged as if he saw something terrifying and surreal in the emptiness before him.
Then his body visibly paled, stiffened, and collapsed instantly.
Another black-robed man, halfway through, suddenly widened his eyes—his shadow vanished within the corpse fog.
Looking left and right, his comrades were gone as well.
“What are you looking for?”
He turned and saw the bloodied Iron Wolf, grinning viciously.
“Looking for this?”
His belly began to writhe, expanding like a mouth, slowly twisting into a face—his own face!!!
“Brother Kou, why does it feel like we keep returning to the same place wherever we go?” Jiang Shuiyuan asked.
The ground where the three stood still bore footprints from the recent fierce tiger-fist clash.
Kou Li narrowed his eyes. He had seen this scene before—on a deserted island, the Thousand-Faced Python had trapped a group of ninja masters in this very way.
So this land was either the birthplace or the manifestation of some demon?
“There’s no way out,” Kou muttered, feeling a chill creeping up his spine from the tailbone. A special sensation revealed a black shadow clinging to his back.
As the sensation extended, it seemed a half-real, half-illusory demon was about to twist out of the mist.
Kou gritted his teeth. ‘No choice. I’ll try the Swastika Seal and see if I can swallow it into my spirit.’
...
Three hours passed. Two martial school apprentices carried a bloodied, injured figure with a pale face to the banks of the Nine Dragon River. A bamboo-sheltered boat had been waiting for some time.
The old fisherman at the stern waved slightly. Immediately, many figures on the shore vanished.
“Risking life and limb to break in, barely escaping death, how many did you save?” the nobleman fishing sneered.
“Obstacles arise in the heavens; cultivation lies within me. No loss, no debt; all grievances settled,” Kou Li laughed heartily, his eyelids drooping like a demon’s. “Therefore, the heart is free of confusion!”