Chapter 45: Slaying the Sixth-Rank

These were enclosed dwellings, mostly built of stone. In one of the rooms, several men were drinking. One of them grumbled loudly, “Damn it, this place is dead as a grave.”

“Haha, Master Ma, maybe it’s you who’s gone dead!” another retorted.

“That’s right, exactly! Maybe you’ve lost your touch. Otherwise, why not catch a rainbow mountain goat? I’ve heard those are quite satisfying!”

“Heh, Master Liu, you do have a taste for the exotic,” someone else laughed.

“Come, let’s have another round. Tomorrow, we’ll have the slave-catchers bring back a few young girls for us to play with, to relieve some fire.”

“There are a few wild girls from the mountains who aren’t bad.”

“In the dark, they’re all the same,” another scoffed.

“But tell me, the hunters we catch are all skilled miners. Why don’t we let them eat their fill? Wouldn’t they work harder if they were well-fed? There’s no chance of trouble anyway. Now, starving them and beating them to death every day means we keep having to catch more—it’s a hassle and slows everything down.”

“That just shows what you don’t know!” one man said, lowering his voice. “I heard by chance—the main reason we capture hunters isn’t for mining. It’s to train those brats. Catching people, mining, torture, death—all of it is to wipe out any kindness or compassion in them. Make them numb, cold-hearted. Only then will they train desperately, become truly ruthless.”

“Master Liu, you’re drunk!”

“Ugh, just dizzy, that’s all!”

“Come on, let’s keep drinking!”

Suddenly, the ground rumbled and the house shook.

Everyone stood up and went out into the courtyard.

“What’s going on these days? Why does it keep shaking? Maybe there really is an earth dragon turning over?”

“Didn’t we investigate? Only this area feels the tremors. I think it’s the mine. Maybe it’s on the verge of collapse?”

“If it caves in and delays things, we’ll all be held responsible. Should we go down and take a look?”

They exchanged glances, but in the end, each looked up into the night sky.

Go down? What a joke!

The tremor faded away as if it had never happened, leaving no trace or commotion.

“Why hasn’t Deputy Commander Cao returned yet?” someone asked.

No one answered.

So they drank on, waiting.

From the shadows, Yang Fan listened to most of their conversation, and a cold, murderous fury surged within him.

He activated the “Qi Lock” technique and slipped away without a sound.

He’d already noticed several hunting dogs in the area. With a touch of “Intimidation,” he stunned them unconscious, then snapped their necks—all without spilling blood, making it hard to detect.

He also found three white eagles—a sign of how seriously they guarded this place—and dealt with them as well.

From the perimeter, Yang Fan began silently clearing out the sentries.

It was deep into the night. By his reckoning, it was nearly the hour of the Tiger, the time of deepest drowsiness, when even the guards nodded off.

With his mastery of “Intimidation,” it was child’s play to silently kill everyone outside.

Only a few kitchen helpers were knocked out and dumped in a corner.

The only ones left awake were those drinking inside—a mere five men, but each one brimming with inner strength: two of the sixth rank, three of the seventh.

Inside the house:

“Why isn’t the food coming? Old He isn’t napping on the job, is he? We’re still up, yet he dares to rest. I’ll go check on him!”

“I’ll come too—gotta take a leak anyway.”

The two of them stepped outside.

They headed first to the corner to relieve themselves, but Yang Fan darted over from the side and said, “Masters, Deputy Commander Cao has returned.”

The two men, who’d been slightly on guard, relaxed at once upon hearing this.

But in the next instant, an invisible force swept over them, striking straight at their minds. Even the sixth-rank martial artist among them felt his soul tremble, his body shuddered, and—combined with the effects of alcohol—his mind went completely blank.

With a soft whistle, Yang Fan drew the Dragon Scale Saber and, in a gleaming arc, beheaded the sixth-rank martial artist on the spot.

The seventh-rank warrior beside him, still frozen in terror, also lost his head to a single stroke.

Yang Fan exhaled deeply.

He hadn’t expected it to go so smoothly. With a flick, the blood on the Dragon Scale Saber flew off, not a drop remaining.

He sheathed the blade.

Then he stood quietly outside the courtyard, listening for any movement within.

Inside the house:

“What’s taking Master Liu and the other so long?”

“Something’s wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“Isn’t it too quiet outside?”

At that, the three men started, exchanging uneasy glances and growing alert.

They stepped out into the courtyard.

Their ears twitched as they listened—faces growing pale.

Too quiet. Unsettlingly quiet.

They hurriedly grabbed their weapons.

Outside the courtyard, Yang Fan sensed the change and sighed inwardly. “Still too inexperienced. After killing those two, I should’ve charged in at once and taken them by surprise.”

“But now…”

No more hesitation. He pushed open the door and strode in, calling loudly, “Deputy Commander Cao has returned and summoned Master Ma and the others. He sent me to fetch you three!”

He moved at a deliberate pace, feigning panic.

“Oh, so it’s Deputy Commander Cao!” The man in front, though wary and with his blade drawn, relaxed at once upon hearing Yang Fan’s words.

“Who are you? I’ve never seen you before. No, your clothes are wrong!” said one of the others at the back, suddenly suspicious.

“Intimidation!”

Yang Fan knew it would be hard to fool them for long, but he’d won a few precious moments.

Now, he struck.

All three shuddered.

“Swift Step!”

Yang Fan’s speed exploded as he appeared before the foremost man in an instant, slashing him down with the Dragon Scale Saber.

Stepping left and spinning his body, his blade swept through the air and cut another seventh-rank martial artist clean in half.

“Who are you?” The sixth-rank Master Liu forced himself to resist the terror clawing at his mind, broke free of his instincts, and leapt back, his face contorted with dread. “You possess forbidden arts!”

“Intimidation!”

Yang Fan didn’t answer. He unleashed the technique again, freezing the man, who shuddered uncontrollably, unable to suppress the terror within.

As the ruthless Dragon Scale Saber came down, despair flashed in the man’s eyes, but at the last moment, he dodged the deathblow.

He managed to retreat a step, but his chest was still sliced open, blood pouring out.

Yang Fan’s eyes narrowed. The blade flashed, tearing through the air like a bolt of lightning.

It was the Gale Slash.

This time, he didn’t use “Intimidation” again.

Master Liu kept retreating.

Yang Fan pressed his advantage, each strike more ferocious than the last.

Fear still lingered in Master Liu’s heart.

With nowhere left to run, he gritted his teeth and fought back, raising his blade to parry.

With a loud clang, his weapon was cleaved in two, shock flooding his features as the dragon-scaled blade slashed across his brow.

Splitting his skull in half.

Red and white matter gushed out.

“This blade is too sharp,” Yang Fan remarked, glancing at the Dragon Scale Saber.

“If I didn’t use the Dragon Scale Saber, didn’t use any special techniques, at my current strength, could I face a sixth-rank martial artist head-on?”

He truly didn’t know.

But by his estimation, perhaps he could hold his own.

“Out in the world, I can’t use this blade too often—it’s too conspicuous.”

With that thought, he began searching the bodies.

After rummaging through them, he found only fifteen hundred taels of silver.

“Pathetically poor—doesn’t fit their status,” Yang Fan muttered, shaking his head.

He also found some purple-gold ore, which would still need refining—useless to him for now.

He picked up a long saber, of the horizontal-blade style, its body black as night. It seemed unremarkable, but was heavy and exceptionally sharp.

He guessed it must have been Master Ma’s weapon.

“My Black Cloud blade broke, but now I have a new one just like it—I'll call it Black Cloud as well,” he thought, sliding the weapon into the scabbard on his back.

The scabbard was large, with two slots—just right for his needs.

After a moment’s thought, he headed outside to the mine entrance.

Four corpses lay there—guards he’d dispatched earlier.

A large boulder blocked the tunnel’s mouth. Though not a perfect seal, it was difficult to move from the inside, but Yang Fan kicked it away with ease.

He peered inside.

It wasn’t totally dark—at intervals, oil lamps burned, their dim flames barely illuminating the passage.

A strange unease gnawed at him.

But he had to go in. Aside from seeking his “former self’s” birth father, he’d noticed, with his earth-sense, several dazzling lights within.

The radiance of spiritual treasures.

One in particular glowed with extraordinary brilliance.