Chapter 37: Night Battle

In the woods within the mountain's belly, a figure was moving at high speed. He was performing lightwork techniques while glancing back warily; though his expression was one of extreme caution, his eyes betrayed an irrepressible excitement.

The man wore yellow clothing and had a slender build and a hooked nose. He was none other than Xu Fangke, who had escaped from the underground stronghold!

He had not run far into the forest when he suddenly saw an elderly man in hemp clothing standing ahead. The man wore a felt hat and straw sandals, and his back was turned toward him.

Overjoyed, Xu Fangke immediately stopped, knelt on one knee, and said respectfully, "My thanks to the Immortal for your life-saving grace. I have fortunately fulfilled my mission and brought this fake imperial decree for you." As he spoke, he pulled a yellow scroll from his bosom and presented it with utmost reverence.

The elderly man in hemp clothing turned around. Looking at his features, he was the very same old man who had read Liang Yan's fortune at the inn that day.

He reached out to take the fake decree, nodding with satisfaction at first, but then he let out a dissatisfied snort. "You are too impetuous and impulsive. If you had just endured a moment longer and waited for the two sides to engage before launching a sneak attack to seize the decree, you wouldn't have wasted one of my 'Mist-Inducing Talismans' to save you."

Upon hearing this, Xu Fangke immediately replied, "It was indeed my impulsiveness. Please forgive me, Immortal!"

He then asked, seemingly puzzled, "The Immortal possesses boundless magical power. Since you have already discovered the fake decree, why not reveal yourself directly and exterminate Chen Zhuo'an's group?"

The elderly man frowned. He had indeed intended to do so earlier, but ever since his secret meeting with his companions at the Kong residence, he had learned that the Starry Pavilion might have sent investigative disciples to Yongle Town to look into the spirit mine matter. This had left him feeling inexplicably flustered.

As a rogue cultivator with mediocre talent, his cultivation had only reached the fourth level of Qi Refinement by his old age. He had survived this long solely by relying on his talisman arts and his cautious, timid nature.

He had decided that unless absolutely necessary, he would never proactively reveal his cultivation. Besides, he carried a jade pendant bestowed by the Association that could mask his aura. This way, even if Starry Pavilion disciples had infiltrated Yongle Town, they would never be able to discover him.

Facing Xu Fangke's confusion, the elderly man merely snorted and said, "What do you know? Don't ask what you shouldn't!"

Xu Fangke felt a chill run through him, a layer of cold sweat breaking out on his forehead as he timidly remained silent.

However, while he did not dare to speak, someone else did. A young woman's light laughter drifted from the forest

"You sounded so imposing back at the stronghold; I thought you were following some incredibly powerful master, but I didn't expect it to be just an old geezer!"

Then, two people emerged from the woods, a man and a woman. The woman was dressed in snow-white robes with a peerless beauty, holding a magnificent precious sword; the man had sharp, starry eyes and a tall, upright posture. They were Liang Yan and Tang Diexian, who had vanished from the underground stronghold.

Seeing that it was these two, the elderly man felt a slight sense of relief. However, he sneered, "Fool. Look at the mess you've made; you've left two tails behind and don't even realize it."

Xu Fangke, who had been inexplicably angered by the old man just moments ago, was looking for a chance to redeem himself through merit, and he hadn't expected someone to deliver themselves right to his door. Without a second thought, he stood up and sneered

"Immortal, please rest on the side for a moment. I shall go and fetch their heads."

With that, he drew a bright short blade from his waist, kicked off the ground, and instantly appeared before Liang Yan. Letting out a loud shout, he swung the blade down toward Liang Yan's forehead.

From the moment Xu Fangke drew his blade, Liang Yan had stood motionless. It was only when Xu Fangke reached him and swung the strike that Liang Yan seemed to react. Instead of dodging, he raised his right hand, extended his index and middle fingers, and pinched the air in front of him.

With a loud *clink!*, Xu Fangke's cunning and ruthless strike was caught mid-air between Liang Yan's two fingers, unable to move an inch.

Xu Fangke gripped his steel blade, standing frozen in place, his face flushed red and blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Liang Yan had channeled spiritual energy through the short blade into Xu Fangke's body, causing his internal qi to run wild; at this moment, he was no different from someone suffering from qi deviation.

"Let go!"

The old man behind him barked a command. As if snapping out of a trance, Xu Fangke hurriedly released his grip on the blade.

With a pinch of Liang Yan's fingers, the steel blade snapped into two pieces. He then flicked his right hand, and the tip of the blade shot forward like a projectile, instantly piercing Xu Fangke's throat and pinning him to the ground.

Lying on the ground, Xu Fangke's eyes were wide, his expression one of utter disbelief even in death.

By now, how could the old man fail to see that the two before him were no ordinary people? He took a deep breath, donned a friendly expression, and laughed heartily

"Fellow Daoists, my subordinates offended you earlier; it was indeed their own fault. If it's just a mortal, then so be it. As long as you two are satisfied, this old man will not pursue the matter."

He paused and continued, "They say one becomes friends through conflict. Why don't we become friends? If difficulties arise in the future, it would be best to help one another, haha."

Liang Yan smiled upon hearing this. "What immense magnanimity, Fellow Daoist! However, while you may not pursue us, we have matters we wish to pursue with you. You are skilled in mathematics; I wonder if you can calculate how much life you have left for tonight?"

The elderly man's pupils constricted, and he said coldly, "You are investigative disciples of the Starry Pavilion!"

Seeing that he had been recognized, Liang Yan merely smiled faintly, offering no confirmation. Tang Diexian, standing beside him, said coquettishly, "Why waste words with him? Just take him down and interrogate him slowly."

"Very well!"

Liang Yan responded, his figure shifting as he stepped forward.

The old man's expression changed slightly. He gave a sudden shake of his large sleeves, throwing out three earthy-yellow talismans.

The talismans drifted with the wind, but they did not fly toward Liang Yan and Tang Diexian; instead, they landed directly on the ground.

Where they landed, the soil churned, and three earthy-yellow soldiers actually emerged from beneath the ground. They wore earthen armor and held great sabers, looking like battle-hardened veterans.

"Earth Soldier Talismans!" Tang Diexian cried out in surprise.

***

While Liang Yan and Tang Diexian were tracking Xu Fangke, the battle within the underground stronghold had also reached a breaking point.

Seeing the heavy fog recede, Xiang Anran noted that none of his people were lost, whereas Chen Zhuo'an's side had lost two, and another had defected and fled.

Though he did not know the reason, he knew that his opponent's strength had been greatly diminished, making this the most advantageous time for his side. He laughed heartily, "Chen Zhuo'an, you defied Minister Li, and even Heaven will not help you. Today is your death day!"

With a wave of his hand, the black-clad assassins, following his command, immediately surrounded Chen Zhuo'an and his group.

"Is it the will of Heaven?"

Chen Zhuo'an muttered to himself. Had he exerted all his efforts only to find he truly could not defeat Li Hong? Was this truly the will of Heaven?

Seeing the trace of confusion in his eyes, Min Rou silently took his hand and shook her head. "Though the Heavenly Way is heartless, there is sincerity in the human world. I only want you to know that regardless of life, death, success, or failure, I will face it all with you."

Chen Zhuo'an's heart jolted, and a surge of heroic spirit rose within him. He was originally a hero of the martial world, free-spirited and unconstrained. Though his resolve had wavered momentarily, Min Rou's sudden display of true emotion allowed him to reclaim himself. Though he was now in a position of extreme peril, he felt no fear; instead, an infinite fighting spirit was ignited.

With a *clang*, the Drifting Dragon Sword left its scabbard. Chen Zhuo'an shouted loudly, "Chu the Third, Min Rou, form the Three Talents Sword Formation!"

Chu the Third and Min Rou moved in response. The three took their positions, forming a tripod-like stance to support one another as they fought the black-clad assassins.

Though called a sword formation, the Three Talents Sword Formation did not strictly require swords. The "Three Talents" referred to Heaven, Earth, and Man. Chen Zhuo'an occupied the position of Heaven to command the overall situation, Chu the Third occupied Earth to provide support, and Min Rou occupied Man to adapt to changes. The three supported each other, making it an exquisite martial formation for a few to fight many.

Although there were over ten black-clad assassins, they could not gain any advantage under the skilled coordination of the three, instead being suppressed and forced into a retreat.

Xiang Anran snorted in anger, drew a pair of copper maces, and lunged toward Chen Zhuo'an. His internal strength was extraordinary; even before he arrived, the copper maces stirred up a gust of astral wind, sweeping toward Chen Zhuo'an.

Chen Zhuo'an's expression sharpened. He hurriedly drew his sword to block, and the two collided. Chen Zhuo'an felt a massive, mountain-shaking force surge through the blade toward him. He could not help but retreat two steps, his internal breath churning before he finally managed to settle it.

Xiang Anran also retreated two steps, his face shifting between pale and blue. Taking a deep breath, he said, "Well played, Chen Zhuo'an. Take another strike from me!"

With that, he lunged forward again, the pair of copper maces attacking Chen Zhuo'an's vital points directly.

While Chen Zhuo'an dealt with Xiang Anran, Min Rou was not idle, fighting a one-on-one battle with a one-eyed youth. This one-eyed youth was clearly one of Xiang Anran's top generals; though he remained silent throughout, his saber techniques were incredibly fast, with every move being exceptionally ruthless.

After fighting him for a while, Min Rou thought to herself, "This man is a natural killer. This saber technique is extraordinarily fast, truly suited for an assassin." However, she felt little fear, for she had been taught martial arts by a master since childhood, and her "Flowing Error Fist" was a classic technique of using softness to overcome speed.

The one-eyed youth's saber work was nimble, each strike faster than the last. Min Rou, unarmed and relying only on her bare fists, held her position in the formation firmly, preventing him from breaking through even an inch.

Though Min Rou's punches were slow, her fist strength was soft and continuous. The one-eyed youth felt as if every saber strike was hitting cotton; sometimes, he would even be led by her momentum, causing his blade to slash elsewhere. It felt much like practicing Tai Chi.

Although Chen Zhuo'an and Min Rou were fighting their opponents to a draw, they were surrounded by black-clad assassins waiting for an opportunity. The two were often restricted in their movements; had it not been for the mutual support of the Three Talents Sword Formation, they might have already shown signs of defeat.

While their side was at a disadvantage, they could still barely hold on. The most dire situation was on Chu the Third's side. He was already injured, and now he was fighting eight or nine assassins alone. His internal injuries worsened, affecting his vital organs, and his movements became slower and slower. After only twenty or so rounds, he was in grave danger.

Suddenly, a muffled groan rang out as a black-clad assassin stabbed Chu the Third in the abdomen. Blood gushed from his wound. He staggered a few steps, grabbed the assassin's arm with his hand, let out a roar, and headbutted him.

The assassin was terrified and tried to escape, but his arm was gripped tightly by Chu the Third. With a *bang!*, as if a watermelon had been smashed, the assassin's skull was crushed by Chu the Third's head.

Chu the Third had killed the man with his head, but his limbs felt a sudden chill. He pulled the long blade from his abdomen and sat heavily on the ground, gasping for air.

The black-clad assassins had initially been intimidated by his ferocity and had not acted immediately, but seeing him collapse, they knew he was at the end of his strength and drew their blades to advance.

"Third!"

Seeing this, Chen Zhuo'an's fury erupted. He forced Xiang Anran back with a sword strike and rushed toward Chu the Third. Several rapid sword strikes aimed directly at the vital points of the assassins, forcing them to raise their blades to defend.

*Clang! Clang! Clang!*

As blades clashed, Chen Zhuo'an's Drifting Dragon Sword spun in the air and then thrust directly at a black-clad assassin who was trying to preemptively kill Chu the Third. With a *squelch*, the long sword pierced through the man's chest.

Seeing Chen Zhuo'an's back wide open, Xiang Anran was overjoyed. He followed closely with his pair of copper maces, striking both maces simultaneously toward the back of Chen Zhuo'an's head.

At that moment, Chen Zhuo'an's sword was embedded in an assassin; it was impossible for him to turn back and defend. He could only abandon the Drifting Dragon Sword and roll on the ground, narrowly avoiding the dual maces.

But Xiang Anran was a martial arts grandmaster. Seeing a strike miss, he did not hesitate to swing his right leg in a horizontal sweep, kicking Chen Zhuo'an in the lower back. His internal strength was profound, making the kick unstoppable.

Chen Zhuo'an rolled across the ground and spat out a mouthful of blood. He heard Min Rou's startled cry, followed by the sight of a beautiful figure rushing toward him.

Min Rou, seeing him in trouble, could no longer care about her struggle with the one-eyed youth and turned to attack Xiang Anran.

Xiang Anran dodged to the side, but a sound of a blade cutting through the air came from behind Min Rou. The one-eyed youth had seen an opening and slashed toward her heart.

Min Rou was startled and managed to tilt her body to avoid a fatal blow, but the blade still caught her right arm.

*Rip!*

Her right sleeve tore, revealing a pale arm marked by a new, gruesome saber wound. Blood surged out, instantly staining her clothes red.

Min Rou staggered back a few steps, but she stubbornly remained in front of Chen Zhuo'an.

Chen Zhuo'an struggled to his feet and urged urgently, "Get out of the way!"

Min Rou bit her lip and remained silent, showing no intention of moving.

"Haha, what a pair of desperate lovers! I'll send your husband on his way first!" Xiang Anran laughed. Ignoring Min Rou, he charged straight for Chen Zhuo'an.

Among the three, the only one he truly feared was Chen Zhuo'an. Once Chen Zhuo'an was dead, he could rest easy. Now that he was injured, he certainly understood the logic of kicking a man while he was down.

Seeing him trying to bypass her, Min Rou immediately launched a flurry of punches. However, the one-eyed youth had already closed in, slashing at her injured right hand. Min Rou dodged, then completely ignored the one-eyed youth, turning to pursue Xiang Anran, leaving her back completely exposed to the assassin.

But her lightwork was inferior to Xiang Anran's. In that brief delay, Xiang Anran had already reached Chen Zhuo'an, raising his dual maces to deliver a fatal blow.

Severely wounded, Chen Zhuo'an had reached his limit just by standing up; he did not even have time to move to dodge.

Xiang Anran felt as if he could already see the maces striking Chen Zhuo'an's forehead, seeing his great rival's brains splatter as he died on the spot.

But strangely, looking into Chen Zhuo'an's eyes, he saw no panic at all—instead, he saw a trace of shock.

"Is this man's brain broken?"

That was Xiang Anran's final thought before death.

(End of Chapter)