Chapter Sixty-Eight: The Pirate Ship

At the very moment when Kou Li brought Diao Fengsheng crashing to the ground and, with a swift motion of the knife-hand, slashed his throat, everyone leapt to their feet in astonishment. No one could have predicted that the tide of victory and defeat would turn so abruptly. Diao Fengsheng, revered as the foremost free-fighter of the South and having returned to the arena after years of seclusion, had been slain on the spot by a nameless apprentice from the Burning Body Hall. After this battle, Kou Li’s name was certain to echo through the entire martial arts world of Guangdong.

Young Master Huang’s eyes sparkled with delight, as if he had just discovered a new way to play with an already amusing toy. The brothers Luo Yanzong, both masters in their own right, let out a sigh of relief mixed with irrepressible joy—Old Eight had truly won, slaying Diao Fengsheng, who was in a physical and mental state even surpassing his prime, without dispute.

Zhong Quan and his companions exchanged glances, their expressions complex—a blend of pleasure, wariness, and a trace of embarrassment. The onlookers wore a variety of expressions, but only the members of the Water Dragon Gang all shared the same look: their faces were so dark it seemed as if they had lost their parents. Diao Fengsheng had been personally invited by Dragonhead Lü, one of the grandmasters secretly supported by the Water Dragon Gang for future use. This outing was meant only as a test of skill, yet, like a child toppling an elderly matron, he had been killed outright by a junior of the martial world.

Young Master Wolf had been so confident before, allowing the others to board the ship, releasing the hostages—all because of his faith in Diao Fengsheng. Reality, however, had dealt him a stinging blow.

After a long silence, the awkwardness was finally broken by the hearty laughter of Yue Wuhuo. “Ha ha ha! Old Eight truly hasn’t let our Burning Body Hall down. When Five Elephants Hall came to challenge us, it was also he who defeated that little Miss Lu. By this reckoning, this lad is indeed our hall’s lucky star!”

What delighted him most was that Kou Li’s Tiger Fist had reached a new height—taming the dragon, riding the tiger, wings to the tiger. With wings, a tiger can truly fly, and once it takes flight, nothing can contain it. His martial skills now flowed like a mighty river, and the last barrier before true mastery was no longer an impediment.

Yet the others now looked at Kou Li with a different gaze. Among the Five Elephants Hall, aside from the formidable “Bear” and “Serpent-Crane Duo,” the most talented was the Hall Master Lu Wangshen’s beloved daughter, and even she had been defeated. From the ferocity of the prior combat, however, it was clear that Five Elephants Hall’s defeat was well deserved.

“Young Master Wolf, it seems my junior’s skill is superior,” Luo Yanzong said, turning with a gentle smile.

Young Master Wolf’s face remained grim. The fledgling eagle had soared too swiftly, leaving him with a sense of falling behind, and his current circumstances left him at a loss. If it were only the Burning Body Hall, he would have dared to break the rules and surround them for slaughter on the spot. But with Zhong Quan, the iron-willed old fox, unexpectedly supporting them as a free enforcer, it became a complicated matter. Most crucially, Young Master Huang was also present—while others might not know her true identity, he was well aware. She could be honored, she could be ignored, but she could never be disgraced. His own elders even hoped he would marry her one day. But he understood clearly—this woman possessed a wildness in her very bones, impossible for any man to tame.

To strike, or to endure?

His eyelids twitched suddenly, and as he looked up, he met Luo Yanzong’s gentle gaze—yet in those eyes, something uncanny flickered.

Young Master Wolf suddenly realized the source of his unease. The three from the martial hall were positioned oddly—Luo Yanzong faced him directly, scarcely twenty feet away, while Yue Wuhuo, though seeming boisterous, had positioned himself to block the directions of the Winged Wolf and the Mighty Wolf. As for the ever-silent Mo Yi, his gaze drifted, almost imperceptibly, toward Huo Jundong.

It was clear now—they had planned this from the moment they boarded the ship, intending to capture the ringleader first. No wonder they had dared to take such risks; with their level of mastery, it was entirely possible.

A hero’s wrath, blood within five steps; within ten, none can stand against him.

You wield the sword of kings, but I bear the blade of the commoner.

If he were captured, nothing else would matter.

Young Master Wolf’s gaze dropped and then lifted, his expression returning to calm as he said slowly, “According to the rules of Guangdong, life and death decided in the ring settles all scores...”

With a thunderous crash, the floor tilted abruptly at a forty-five-degree angle. The courtesans were thrown into disarray, rare trinkets and jewels clattering across the floor.

“What’s happening?” the chief steward’s furious roar echoed from the entrance.

“Ambush! Pirate ships attacking at Chaos Star Point!”

“Who moved—” The steward’s voice cut off abruptly, ending in a scream.

Another massive explosion followed, splinters of wood spraying everywhere. An iron ball, the size of a melon, smashed through a woman’s abdomen, splitting her body in two before she could even scream, blood mist bursting into the air.

Shrieks echoed from the cabins.

“There’s a traitor!”

“Water ghosts are breaching the hull!”

The martial artists exchanged glances and almost simultaneously rushed outside—inside the gaming hall, they were perfect targets.

“Damn it, Old Eight!” Luo Yanzong suddenly realized that the spot where the cannon had struck was not far from the ring, and Kou Li’s figure had already disappeared.

Amid the chaos, Huo Jundong sprang into action. His eyes flashed open, and with hands poised like cannons, his form agile as a qilin, he leapt across the tilted piles and shot through the blasted opening.

“Third Brother, after him!”

More cannon blasts roared, the deafening noise muddling everyone’s senses. Among Zhong Quan’s disciples, one unlucky soul was struck head-on by a flying iron ball. His bones were far tougher than ordinary men, so the ball became lodged in his abdomen, like a botched cesarean. His face twisted in agony as he died, hands broken and bent. Martial artists had quicker reflexes, able to sense the direction of water cannons or projectiles, instinctively raising their hands to deflect—but some things simply could not be avoided.

“Martial arts are useless in major battles,” went the old adage, true before the integration of martial arts and alchemy. Before reaching the Four Great Refinements, the extent to which a martial artist could change the tide of battle was limited—especially in naval warfare.

“Young Master!” With boards and iron bars pried aside, Young Master Wolf and another “ordinary gang member” crawled out, covered in dust. The latter’s back was riddled with wounds, but none were deep; even the sharpest rivets had barely pierced his skin. If he hadn’t shielded Young Master Wolf just now, Dragonhead Lü’s son would surely have died unjustly.

“Lu Gang, who attacked us?”

“There’s a flag of Lord Bao Long on the ship,” Lu Gang replied impassively. Even Luo Yanzong might not know that the unremarkable servant always by Young Master Wolf’s side was, in truth, Ironhide Wolf—the chief executioner among the Four Wolves and Eight Tigers.

“Damn that Zhu Baozai!” Young Master Wolf snarled. He had already spent vast resources covering up the assassination of Shen Bing, and Zhu Baozai had sent signals of peace—yet now, he’d turned around and struck. The old bastard had no honor at all.

Through a hole in the wall, it was clear to see: from behind the strange reefs at Chaos Star Point, pirate ships emerged one after another, bristling with menacing pirates. Three ships, in particular, dwarfed the rest—fierce and massive, towering above even the gambling ship.

“Fierce Shark,” “Bone Shark,” “Blood Shark”—three of Zhu Baozai’s ten warships, now encircling them like a school of sharks on the raging sea.

The tactics and weapons of this era’s land and naval battles were on par with those of the Ming Dynasty—crude gunpowder arms mixed with cold steel. The watergates on the ships were being pried open, cannons and fire arrows firing thunderously, smoke drifting across the waves. It was clear this ambush had been long in the making. The pirate fleet struck as the Water Dragon Gang’s ships crossed halfway through Chaos Star Point: blasting the center to pin down the flagship, then attacking from the flanks. Already, five of the Water Dragon Gang’s twenty vessels trailed black smoke, sinking beneath the waves.

“How could this be? Zhu Baozai choosing this moment to attack the Water Dragon Gang!” Kou Li felt as though he’d tried to steal a chicken only to lose the rice. If this was retribution for the last incident, then it truly was a case of fate playing tricks.

His senses far surpassed the ordinary. At the very first sign of trouble, he had slipped away, escaping through the breach left by the water cannon and hiding behind a gun port, watching the battle unfold with a pounding headache.

Whether in ancient or modern times, the course of battle is never dictated by the will of a single man—least of all amid the open sea, where even escape is impossible.

As he pondered his next move, Kou Li’s eyes suddenly narrowed—incredibly, he saw a group of people running across the water toward him.