Chapter Thirty-One: The Killing

At midday, during a brief ten-minute rest, the third chief of Wolf Fang Mountain Fortress sat in the grand hall, listening to the reports of his trusted subordinates. When he heard that the opposing force had deployed the Bear Squad, a glimmer of excitement flashed in his eyes—there was not the slightest trace of worry, only a hint of pleasure.

Orders were swiftly issued, and the mountain bandit units began to reposition for defense. That afternoon, battle resumed. The Bear Army once again sent their Bear Squad as the vanguard, while the Wolf Fang side seemed utterly unprepared, forced to retreat step by step, leaving corpses strewn across the ground.

On a flat stretch halfway up the mountain, ten squads stood in tidy ranks. Not far off, the din of battle, shouts and screams, echoed incessantly. These eight squads all belonged to the second division of the training camp, including Hu San’s Ninth Squad, Snake Fang’s Second Squad, and Man Shi’s Fifteenth Squad. Besides these three, the other seven were also elite squads from the second division.

Behind them stood a hundred veteran mountain bandits—both the final line of defense and the enforcers. If any dared to flee when the battle turned ill, they would likely lose their heads on the spot.

This detachment was led by the scar-faced commander, with Zhou Xing as his deputy, his hawk-like eyes fixed on the new recruits.

“What now, third brother? Looks like the fortress wants us to clash head-on with the enemy’s elite, just to buy a little time,” Lei Ming muttered, licking his lips uneasily as he watched the Bear Squad thunder up the slope like mad tigers. Sweat beaded densely on his brow.

“The third chief wants us to wear down the enemy’s strength,” Hu San replied, pursing his lips. A dark light flickered in his eyes as he glanced down at the ground, a thoughtful look on his face. Others might not know, but with his considerable autonomy, he remembered that this terrain was not always so flat—not even close, and certainly not like this. The sparse, yellowed weeds here contrasted sharply with the lush green elsewhere. If Hu San still failed to grasp what lay beneath his feet, then all his training would have been in vain.

Yet with every eye on him, any action was impossible. If his guess was correct, the third chief cared nothing for the lives of new recruits. This would be a grim fight; one wrong move, and they could all die here.

“We can’t refuse to fight, but when it starts, lead the squad’s elite slowly toward the edge—see that patch of bright green? Tell Snake Fang and the others. Whether they manage it is up to them,” Hu San whispered, gripping his long blade as the Bear Squad breached the slope’s defenses and charged onto the flat ground.

The Bear Squad, having suffered bitterly from the mountain’s rugged ascent, were elated to reach level ground. Seeing only a bunch of greenhorn youths before them, they grew wild with excitement. Without waiting for the main force, they surged forward at the bellow of their leader—hundreds of them, like starving bears, brandishing their blades and charging straight at the assembled youths.

Chaos erupted. Shouts and screams filled the air as the plain dissolved into bedlam. At first, the boys held their ground out of sheer bravado, but after seeing more than a dozen slaughtered, terror took hold. For these novices, not dropping their weapons was already an act of courage; expecting them to mount a fierce resistance was pure fantasy.

To Hu San, it was a scene of massacre—his own Ninth Squad included.

Though the Ninth Squad was strong, they were just a pack of kids. Even those at the level of the three great champions were, at best, equal to ordinary bandits—they were simply too young.

Now, even if Hu San wanted to intervene, he was powerless. All he could do was direct the Ninth Squad to withdraw toward the edge, or soon not a single one would remain.

“Hey, that kid’s got a fine blade—looks like it’s meant for grandpa here!” someone from the Bear Squad leered as he spotted Hu San’s sword, tossing aside a dying youth and lunging at him.

“Courting death!” Hu San, having discerned the truth of this place, hadn’t wanted to engage, but when trouble came knocking, it was hard to refuse. To ordinary bandits, the Bear Squad were elite, but to a master like Hu San, they were no different—all the same.

Without even looking at the bandit’s grasping hand, Hu San swung his blade. A flash, and the grinning brute’s neck was half severed.

“Old Liu?”
“Boy, you’re dead!”

Cries of alarm rang out as more Bear Squad fighters rushed him—only to fall one by one, each cut down in an instant. Fired by battle lust, Hu San broke away from his squad, stepping lightly with fish-like agility, his blade whirling like a meat grinder as he cut a bloody swath through their ranks.

In no time, the Bear Squad’s dominance over the field was shattered. Where they once held sway, a massive breach had been carved, and Hu San, sword in hand, seemed the very incarnation of death—so much so that nearby Bear Squad fighters quaked in terror, not daring to approach.

“What a prodigy! Let me test you myself!” A sudden thunderous shout broke the air. A burly man wielding twin black halberds strode over, whipping up a storm of darkness as he struck at Hu San.

This was none other than Xiong Ba, the Bear Squad’s captain—a man of natural strength, not a true martial artist perhaps, but one who had slain such warriors before. He was a true champion.

“Not good! Xiong Ba, fall back at once!” Down the slope, Bai Xiong, commanding the reserves, started in recognition—was this not the young man who’d escaped him just days ago? Bai Xiong believed he knew Hu San’s strength: in raw power he was no less than Xiong Ba, his swordsmanship and footwork exquisite, far beyond Xiong Ba’s crude techniques.

He shouted a warning as he rushed forward, hoping to relieve Xiong Ba.

“Oh? An important figure!” Hu San had paid no mind at first, but Bai Xiong’s shout drew his attention. Instantly, Hu San’s grip tightened, and he swung his blade with full strength, silver light plunging into the swirling black.

A resounding crack echoed; then, to everyone’s shock, one of Xiong Ba’s halberds flew skyward, the other sagging to the ground. Xiong Ba staggered back, his face ashen. Hu San, by contrast, had not retreated a single step.

“What strength!” Hu San marveled inwardly—his own power now exceeded that of four men, and though not quite at the terrifying level of five, he was close. That blow had landed squarely in the gap of Xiong Ba’s technique, amplifying its force by half again. Even so, the man had survived—his strength was formidable, perhaps equal to Hu San’s own.

Hu San was surprised, but Xiong Ba was more so. Save for true martial artists, he had never met his match, much less in a mere boy. From their clash, Xiong Ba could tell Hu San was not a true martial artist—he sensed none of that unique inner resonance. This only deepened his shock, unaware that Hu San had simply not used his inner force.

Bai Xiong’s figure now loomed closer. Not wishing to risk a direct confrontation, Xiong Ba retreated a few steps, seeking another target.

“Not so easy!” Smirking, Hu San licked his lips and darted across the battlefield with fish-like agility, intercepting Xiong Ba.

Driven to desperation, Xiong Ba bellowed and spun his remaining halberd in a whirlwind, determined to fight to the death. But as Bai Xiong had feared, Xiong Ba’s skills were crude compared to Hu San’s. When Hu San grew serious, Xiong Ba could not even touch him.

A dazzling flurry of blade work followed. Hu San withdrew from the melee, while Xiong Ba’s halberd movements grew slower and slower. As the weapon finally stilled, a collective gasp rose from the crowd. No one knew when it had happened, but Xiong Ba’s body was now covered in wounds, blood flowing freely. The giant’s lips moved as if to speak, but in the end he collapsed, utterly unconscious.

“Xiong Ba!” Bai Xiong howled, eyes wide with rage, staring daggers at Hu San.

Hu San paid him no heed, slipping through the throng with slippery speed to rejoin his own squad. Now, his inner energy had reached the first level; combined with his strength and skill, he could face Bai Xiong in battle without fear for his life—though victory was unlikely. Yet Hu San had no intention of fighting on.

Bai Xiong, however, was of a different mind. With a furious roar, he hefted his iron ruler and led the Bear Squad in a charge toward Hu San’s position.

Pandemonium broke out. The formation, which Hu San’s heroics had just restored, was instantly shattered. The newcomers scattered, and even the veteran bandits at the rear quailed, fearing they would not escape in time.

“That Hu San—what a formidable youth!” The scar-faced commander’s eyes glittered with complex emotions. He had long taken note of the Bear Squad’s captain and had heard much of Xiong Ba’s reputation. Even he would be more likely to lose than win if they fought. Never had he imagined that this master could fall so easily to Hu San in the chaos of battle. In that moment, his view of Hu San changed completely.