Chapter Seventy-Four: Clarification

First, he was frustrated by the opponent’s long arrows, forced to scurry for cover despite being a dignified warrior of the eighth tier. He had thought close combat would let him display his might, but the opponent’s skill was astonishingly refined, far beyond his expectations. Not only that, the opponent’s physical strength was monstrous, utterly unfazed by the onslaught of qi energy. In contrast, he himself was already at his limit.

“There’s nothing impossible,” Hu San murmured with a low chuckle, dragging his long blade behind him as he advanced toward Chen Ce with a ghostly, fluid movement.

In truth, given his condition, Hu San could have slain Chen Ce fifty moves ago. But he wanted to use this rare master to temper his Ten Paths of Killing. Now, as those flaws were resolved through battle, Chen Ce was no longer needed.

“If you want my life, you’ll pay a price for it,” Chen Ce, sensing the resolve in Hu San’s incoming strike, drew a deep breath. His three-section staff whirled like a serpent, unleashing a surge of yellow qi that expanded like a giant bell, aiming to envelop Hu San’s head.

“Another desperate secret technique?” Hu San muttered. In a flash, his figure disappeared from one side and appeared on the other, dragging his blade.

A ripping sound echoed. Chen Ce’s last-ditch attack struck empty air, and blood sprayed from his neck—a wound that grew wider, forming a hideous gash like the maw of a ravenous beast.

“Ha… Ha… You… Good… You… The Young Master… Will… Never… Forgive… You…” Chen Ce struggled to utter these words, then collapsed. Even in death, his eyes remained wide open.

“Whew… An eighth-tier master truly is different. If I hadn’t shot him first, killing him would not have been so easy,” Hu San exhaled, checking his own body and finding himself badly shaken by Chen Ce’s attack.

For most, such injuries would be troublesome, but for Hu San, a few hearty meals would suffice to restore him.

This battle made Hu San realize how difficult it was to fight across tiers, explaining why second-rate and first-rate masters were so unevenly matched in the martial world.

For warriors, qi is vital. Without it, one cannot hope to contend with those who possess it. Of course, monsters are another matter entirely—they belong to a different system, unbound by the limits of qi, able to wield spells and compensate for their lack of qi with their powerful bodies.

As dusk approached, Hu San cleaned the blood from himself and stepped out of the house, quietly awaiting nightfall.

When darkness fully descended, the mountain stronghold’s peak was silent. It was the chief’s secluded place, and none dared approach without his command.

A night of high winds and deep shadows—an ideal time to move bodies.

Hu San had already searched the corpses inside the house; aside from two martial arts manuals, there was little of value. Their weapons were decent but of no use to him, and he would not risk exposure for insignificant gains.

A quarter hour later, Hu San had tossed all the bodies from the house down the cliff, leaving their fate—to wolves or decay—out of his mind.

To conceal the traces of battle, he set fire to the elegant pavilion, burning it clean to the ground. By the time the bandits woke and rushed over to save it, the oil-soaked wooden structure was already ashes, swept away by the mountain wind.

As confusion spread among the crowd, Hu San, clad in the chief’s robes, appeared. He inquired about the situation and then dismissed everyone.

At dawn, in the grand hall, Hu San sat in silence while the various commanders stood before him.

“Gentlemen, last night the second and third chiefs, along with Commanders Ge Xiang and Iron Wing, were sent down the mountain on urgent business and are unlikely to return soon. Our stronghold is vast and cannot be left without leadership for even a day. Therefore, I order Haizhou and Manxin to temporarily oversee the affairs of the stronghold. When the chiefs return, power will be handed back to them.”

Hu San’s gaze swept the assembly as he issued this surprising command.

Haizhou and Manxin were stunned for a moment, then knelt to thank the chief for his grace. The other commanders stepped forward to congratulate them.

Hu San offered a few words of encouragement, then departed the hall.

Though Haizhou and Manxin were close aides to Ge Xiang and Iron Wing, loyalty among bandits is thin. Not only would they not seek their old masters, but they might even relish their downfall.

Thus, the stronghold returned to calm. The disappearance of four powerful figures caused not the slightest ripple.

Even their families sensed nothing amiss, unaware their pillars had died at the foot of the cliff, their bodies likely already decaying.

To avoid alerting anyone, Hu San left their families alone, focusing all his attention on the imminent arrival of Chen Hai.

If the first-rate master Chen Ce was so formidable, then the legendary cultivator Chen Hai must be extraordinary.

Though Hu San had seemingly killed a cultivator known as Cotton Candy and taken the black sword from him, he still had no clear recollection of how the deed had been done.

Since attaining his current cultivation, Hu San relied on skill, not luck. He knew he could not expect to defeat Chen Hai as easily as he did Cotton Candy.

To face this mysterious cultivator, he had to prepare thoroughly.

Fortunately, he was not wholly ignorant of cultivators. He had witnessed Cotton Candy’s methods—turning himself into endless shadows without a physical form.

He had also seen the Black Wolf’s abilities. Though he could not compare their power directly, Hu San was certain both beings were above warriors.

Thus, he could use the Black Wolf’s strength as a rough measure for cultivators.

Once these elements were connected, the mystery of the cultivator became clearer in Hu San’s mind.

They are likely such beings: first, they possess energies beyond inner breath, allowing them to command the forces of the five elements—casting fireballs, raising earth spikes, conjuring ice arrows, or summoning demonic winds. These attacks are beyond a warrior’s ability to resist, perhaps even impervious to qi.

Second, through such high-level energy, they can greatly strengthen their bodies or wield unmatched weapons with remarkable agility—again, beyond what warriors can withstand.

Third, at higher levels, they may be capable of flight, like the immortals of legend. Based on Cotton Candy’s performance, Hu San believed ordinary disciples cannot fly; Chen Hai, who had cultivated for only ten years, most likely could not. Yet even without flight, their speed and agility should be extraordinary.

Fourth, their arts transcend mortal limits. The endless claw winds of the Black Wolf, or Cotton Candy’s infinite illusions, possess power rivaling nature itself, utterly beyond the reach of warriors—even the greatest among them.

Summing up these points, Hu San now had a clear understanding of cultivators: they are warriors above even the supreme masters, and an ordinary warrior, no matter how skilled, stands no chance against them.

Whether through spells, weapons, or supernatural abilities, every aspect could kill with ease. Most crucially, they likely possess myriad ways to preserve their lives, rendering ordinary attacks useless.

But even so, at lower levels, they remain limited—still within the realm of mortals. Some traps and weapons might still affect them, though how much is uncertain.

It was also unclear if they feared poison.

If faced head-on with a novice cultivator, Hu San, thanks to his experience with the Black Wolf, believed he could dodge the five-element attacks with his fish-step technique.

But inflicting real harm would be difficult. He remembered well: when he fought the Black Wolf, that creature was inexplicably immobilized, like a living target.

Had the Black Wolf been able to move, Hu San would surely have died that day.

Such luck could not be counted upon twice. Hu San would not assume Chen Hai would be similarly helpless.

Thus, he saw little chance of causing real harm.

Moreover, if Chen Hai possessed abilities akin to the Black Wolf’s, Hu San would be unable to resist, and the likelihood was high—the Black Wolf was a wild monster, untaught, but Chen Hai had formal training in a sect, with deeper resources and hidden powers.

Taking all factors together, Hu San realized that if he faced Chen Hai directly, he had a ninety-nine percent chance of failure—virtually certain death.

“So direct confrontation is impossible; I must resort to subterfuge. Numbers won’t matter against a cultivator. First, poison, then traps.”

“The opponent will likely detect the poison, so the trap must be set beforehand, lest he notice and avoid it.”

“Ordinary traps probably won’t work; I need joint mechanisms, and finally, a grand killing blow—something harnessing the power of nature, not something humans can withstand.”

“That means choosing the trap location is crucial.”

Standing before a high cliff, Hu San gazed into the sea of clouds, his mind racing until his thoughts fell into order.