Chapter Forty-Nine: The Fisherman Appears

Clearly, Hu San was not the only one shaken by Black Bear’s overwhelming strength, nor was he the only one who had underestimated his true power. At this moment, the Second Chieftain’s iron fan, though spread wide like a canopy, could never break through the enveloping web of the blade’s light.

With every swift whoosh that tore through the air, the Second Chieftain was forced into peril again and again by Black Bear’s relentless assault.

A metallic clang rang out.

Sensing the dire turn of events, the Second Chieftain’s iron fan erupted with a surge of black mist; the ribs of the fan spread open like a peacock’s tail, taking the shape of a blooming lotus as he hurled it against Black Bear’s broadsword.

Yet this clash failed to yield the victory he’d hoped for. Worse, it thrust him into even greater danger.

A numbing shock ran through his palm, a wave of force nearly tore the weapon from his grasp. He glanced down to see the skin between his thumb and forefinger split open, crimson blood flung into the air with every motion.

“Your cultivation is at the fifth tier? That’s impossible.”

Shocked and furious, the Second Chieftain was momentarily distracted. The broadsword slashed his left arm; if not for his swift reaction, sweeping the iron fan to block, his arm would have been severed outright.

Even so, the wound was deep to the bone, robbing his arm of strength.

“There are many impossible things in the world,” Black Bear replied with a sly grin, pressing his attack even harder, leaving the Second Chieftain no room to catch his breath. The curtain of steel from his blade forced their foe into desperate parries, again and again.

Within a mere hundred exchanges, the Second Chieftain was already disheveled, hair loose, blood at the corner of his mouth, while Black Bear, save for a slight shortness of breath, seemed utterly unharmed.

“Amazing. I never imagined Black Bear’s true strength was so great. I’m no match for him now—Second Chieftain is done for,” Hu San muttered from his hiding place, a hint of schadenfreude in his heart.

If Hu San could see the state of things, how much more must the Second Chieftain, locked in battle, have felt it?

In fact, his injuries were even worse than Hu San imagined. Black Bear’s prowess had reached the fifth tier of internal cultivation, while he himself was only at the fourth. The gap of a single tier was, in a prolonged duel, a chasm.

Worse, Black Bear’s inner energy burned like boiling oil, clearly not the result of an ordinary technique. Though the Second Chieftain’s own was respectable, it was nowhere near this level; under such pressure, he felt as though his organs were incinerating, and he yearned to spit them out.

If this continued, within twenty more moves, he would die by Black Bear’s hand.

Chen Zhou, the Second Chieftain, was even more formidable than Hu San knew. His background surpassed Black Bear’s, and surely he held far more in reserve.

Yet pride had trapped him in Black Bear’s relentless barrage; no matter his hidden cards, he could not play them, for the slightest misstep would mean being cleaved in two.

Finding himself at the brink, the Second Chieftain gritted his teeth. As Black Bear thrust again, he did not retreat, but instead lunged forward.

In Hu San’s astonished gaze, and under Black Bear’s delighted eyes, the Second Chieftain allowed the broadsword to pierce him. With a sudden contraction of muscle, he clamped the blade tight, trapping it for an instant.

“You—”

Black Bear tried to wrench the blade free, but it wouldn’t budge, as though lodged in stone. In that same moment, the Second Chieftain’s iron fan flicked in his hand.

Before Black Bear’s horrified eyes, a shower of black needles shot from the fan’s ribs at indescribable speed, engulfing Black Bear’s upper body the instant they appeared.

The mighty Black Bear, a warrior of the fifth tier, could not withstand the assault of the needles. He was hurled back nearly thirty feet, crashing to the ground, rolling and howling in pain.

“How—how do you have Cowhair Needles? Are you a core disciple of the Mechanisms Hall?”

When Black Bear’s convulsions finally subsided, his upper torso was riddled with countless holes. Even from a distance, Hu San could see clusters of hair-thin objects embedded in his chest, swaying in the breeze.

The Second Chieftain, pale as death, wrenched the long blade from his body and hurriedly applied a blood-staunching salve. Forcing a bitter smile, he said, “Is it only the Mechanisms Hall disciples who can possess Cowhair Needles? Black Bear, I must admit you’re formidable. I was nearly killed by you.”

“But how could you ever compare to me?”

“Impossible. The Cowhair Needle is one of the three great secret weapons of the martial world. If you aren’t a core disciple of the Mechanisms Hall, how could the humble Chen family own one?”

Black Bear let out a bitter laugh. “To die by the Cowhair Needle—I suppose there are worse fates. Go on, finish it.”

He closed his eyes, bracing for death.

“You think I’m that foolish?” the Second Chieftain retorted, keeping his distance. He aimed the iron fan at Black Bear and triggered it once more, unleashing another volley of Cowhair Needles that pierced Black Bear through.

This time, Black Bear could not even twitch. A mocking smile touched his lips as he gasped, “Ha… ha… Cowhair Needles pierce steel, and within five paces, not even gods can defend. Once is enough; to use them twice is wasteful.”

“The mechanism has three shots in all. Don’t you regret squandering them?”

“Regret?” The Second Chieftain shook his head, swaying unsteadily—his wounds were truly severe. He laughed hollowly, “Compared to my life, what are Cowhair Needles? Black Bear, that you forced me to this point is no small feat. But you and I are not the same, we were never meant to be.”

As he spoke, he suddenly froze. Disbelief contorted his face as he looked down to see a blade tip protruding from his chest.

But the searing pain in his heart and the ebbing strength in his limbs told him it was all too real.

“Hu… Hu San…”

He tried to turn, but only managed it halfway before collapsing onto the ground with a thud, expiring with his last breath. The iron fan—so dreaded by Hu San—fell from his grasp.

A man who should never have died here met his end in such a wretched manner—a bitter irony. With the cards he held, neither Black Bear nor Hu San should have been a threat; but his arrogance proved his undoing.

It was a long while before Hu San was certain the Second Chieftain was truly dead. The day’s events left him deeply wary, and he was grateful he hadn’t tried his luck against the Second Chieftain.

Curious, he stepped forward and picked up the iron fan, examining it until he found a small mechanism in the fan’s ribs—the device that launched the Cowhair Needles.

Judging by Black Bear’s words, this weapon was extraordinary indeed. Though only a single shot remained, the fact that it could slay someone as powerful as Black Bear made it a priceless treasure in Hu San’s hands.

What Hu San didn’t realize was that the true value of the Cowhair Needles was not simply their lethality, but their ability to pierce even the protective energy of master warriors.

To threaten even the top fighters, to endanger the very best—this was the reason for the Cowhair Needle’s legendary reputation.

“So you’re Hu San? Truly, you are a hero in your youth.”

Though mortally wounded, Black Bear somehow still had breath enough to speak. The Cowhair Needle was said to be peerless, yet twice it had failed to kill him outright. This made Hu San doubt whether its fearsome reputation was deserved.

Reading the doubt in Hu San’s eyes, Black Bear managed a bitter smile. “I survived only because of the internal arts I practice. Any ordinary second-tier fighter would have died after the first volley.”

“Oh.” Hu San nodded, but kept his distance, toying with the iron fan as the Second Chieftain had done, circling warily.

“Do you want me to save you? Sorry. First, we are enemies—I will never save you. Second, I couldn’t even if I wanted to. At most, after you die, I’ll dig a grave so you won’t be left for the beasts.”

Black Bear chuckled. “I know my situation. I would never ask that of you. Chen Zhou was the Second Chieftain of Wolfheart Fort and the younger brother of the Chen family’s master of the Great Bend Kingdom. With the Cowhair Needles appearing, I can guarantee his background is anything but ordinary. You killed him today, and before that his son as well. High-level experts will surely come for you; you won’t be able to stay in Wolfheart Mountain.”

“So, how about we make a deal?”

Black Bear spat a mouthful of black blood, his voice fading.

“How high-level?” Hu San’s heart skipped a beat, though he feigned indifference.

“I can’t say for sure, but in a kingdom like Great Bend, there are no more than ten weapons at the level of the Cowhair Needle, all in the hands of top-tier masters. Chen Zhou had one, and he was only fourth-tier. Imagine how powerful the people who come looking for you will be.”

“Don’t tell me they won’t track you down. If even I can tell it was you, how could those experts not find you? It’s only a matter of time.”

Black Bear sneered, as if Hu San’s words amused him.

“What’s your deal?” Hu San’s demeanor finally turned serious. He was already in deep enough trouble, but having come this far, he could only think carefully about his future moves. He hadn’t forgotten that he was still carrying the Black Sword.

“My family is a fallen branch of the royal house of Wuzang Kingdom. I have two wives and several children; the whole family has relied on me. Now that I’m dying, they will be left defenseless. If you ever have the ability, I hope you’ll look after them—not much, just let them live in peace.”

Black Bear sighed. “It’s only when you’re dying that you see clearly. All that talk of restoring the family or bringing honor to our name is nonsense. Nothing compares to a quiet life with your wife and children.”

“Wuzang Kingdom? I don’t even know where that is. How could I help you?” Hu San frowned, feeling a vague dislike for Black Bear’s sudden world-weariness.