Chapter 107, At Dusk, Crows Cry!

Translator: StarReader

 

The setting sun cast long shadows as the day surrendered to twilight.

 

A man cloaked in black with a three-foot azure blade sheathed at his waist appeared silently beside the tombstone, a phantom in the fading light. A bamboo hat obscured his face as he placed a sprig of white blossoms upon the marker of Fei Xingchou.

 

He stared at the tombstone for a long while, unmoving, unnoticed by the two standing nearby, before vanishing without a trace.

 

“Your brother is here.”

 

Su Chen sat beside the tombstone, turning the leaves in his hand, observing the subtle movements within the Northern Swamp.

 

The remaining six Grandmasters of the Wu Region were assembled. Soon, it would be clear who would become the sacrifices.

 

Han Shu sat on the other side of the tombstone, a look of confusion etched upon her face.

 

How did Su Chen know that her brother had arrived?

 

Manager Liu, accompanied by the remnants of the Heaven Falcon Group disciples, had departed for Gusu City to transport the remains of their members, but she had remained behind.

 

Her brother was the first assassin of the Wu Region; he never shared his plans with her, nor did anyone know his whereabouts. He hadn’t appeared even when the Heaven Falcon Group was almost wiped out. She harbored a measure of resentment in her heart.

 

…

 

Sun Baihong unleashed a multitude of poisonous insects and creatures at the foot of Misty Peak to cover the retreat of the allied forces, causing the pirates’ army to spend a bit of time clearing them.

 

But these were minor matters of little consequence to the larger scheme.

 

This Cave Mountain Island wasn’t large; the ships were already wrecked beyond repair. Even if they granted the allied forces a single hour to flee, they wouldn’t get far.

 

The Whale Gang pirates, numbering ten thousand; the White Lotus Society, with three thousand disciples; and a handful of first-rate Daoists from the Han Mountain Daoist Temple formed a massive pirate alliance, entering the five-mile Northern Swamp.

 

Daoist Han Shan remained at the center, proceeding slowly on horseback.

 

Whale Gang leader Liu Hong and White Lotus Society leader Mao Ziyuan each rode separate mounts, flanking Daoist Han Shan and leading their elite White Lotus thugs and pirate chieftains, entering the Northern Swamp.

 

Liu Hong gazed with some envy at the dozens of loyal White Lotus thugs under Mao Ziyuan, each shrouded in a faint golden light.

 

These were the gold armor talismans Daoist Han Shan had sold to Mao Ziyuan, quite expensive but remarkably effective; each gold armor talisman could deflect at least a dozen strikes from a first-rate expert. By the time the enemy managed to pierce the gold armor, they would already be cut down.

 

Liu Hong looked on with envy, having once attempted to purchase them himself.

 

But Daoist Han Shan refused to sell.

 

He argued that the White Lotus Society had been maligned by the court and the martial world as heretics, and if they were heretics, creating devil talismans embodying evil and chaos wasn’t surprising.

 

However, a martial group like the Whale Gang, if they also possessed numerous talismans, would be too suspicious, inviting unnecessary speculation and suspicion onto Daoist Han Shan.

 

Liu Hong, hearing this, understood Daoist Han Shan’s cautious nature.

 

Yet, he always felt that Daoist favored Mao Ziyuan and harbored some reservations toward him, reluctant to part with such valuable items.

 

Liu Hong dared not show any dissatisfaction; Daoist Han Shan’s origins were mysterious, his strength unfathomable, and he possessed numerous incredible and ancient talismans, far beyond just the gold armor.

 

Liu Hong flattered, “Daoist, Han Pingshan is dead, Li Shuo only excels at warfare, and Medicine King Sun Baihong can only rely on those few bugs. They are no match for us.”

 

Mao Ziyuan quickly added, “This success is thanks to Daoist’s divine calculations and brilliant strategies, luring over ten thousand elite warriors from the Wu Region martial factions and several thousand court soldiers to this island, capturing them all at once. The thirteen counties of the Wu Region have no power to resist and soon will be ours.”

 

Medicine King Sun Baihong’s use of extraordinary techniques extinguished one thousand water devils within Vastest Lake, and then in the battle with Li Shuo in Northern Swamp, displaying immense power, he slew thirty White Lotus thugs with golden armor.

 

But these were minor events, insufficient to overturn the grand scheme Daoist Han Shan had meticulously planned over ten years.

 

Even Han Pingshan, a Grandmaster serving as the vanguard, fell victim to a trap and died in battle, nearly leading to the destruction of the Heaven Falcon Group. When attacking Misty Peak, the allied forces of the court suffered immense casualties.

 

The allied forces had already collapsed, fleeing to the lakeshore of Northern Swamp, where only a final, desperate struggle remained.

 

Daoist Han Shan spoke calmly, “Li Shuo and Sun Baihong are not a cause for concern. The only one to worry about is that Han Ya.”

 

“Indeed.”

 

“A fair assessment.”

 

Liu Hong and Mao Ziyuan wholeheartedly agreed.

 

They feared not Li Shuo nor Sun Baihong, but Wu Region’s second Grandmaster, the assassin Han Ya.

 

After all, no matter how well one defended, there were always vulnerabilities. Even experts at the Grandmaster level could be killed with a moment’s carelessness.

 

The most troublesome aspect was that Heaven Falcon Group was a loyal hound of the court, and the Han Clan were die-hard loyalists. Without eliminating Han Ya, they would find no peace.

 

“This Han Ya is peculiar. You said that before the war, he didn’t appear, and that was bad enough. Heaven Falcon Group was nearly wiped out, and he still held back. Now the Misty Peak allied forces have suffered a crushing defeat; the war seems almost over, and he still hasn’t shown himself? Is he simply standing by and watching?”

 

Liu Hong questioned.

 

“Han Ya can endure what ordinary men cannot endure; that is why he is the Wu Region’s foremost assassin. He is beyond even you and me!”

 

Mao Ziyuan sighed.

 

Daoist Han Shan remained silent for a long while.

 

An assassin wasn’t a battlefield commander. Victory or defeat on the battlefield wasn’t an assassin’s responsibility. A true assassin did only one thing: kill. Kill whoever they were meant to kill.

 

Anything else was a distraction, something to be left behind, ignored.

 

An assassin never showed their face. For doing so was suicidal. Han Ya was destined to be a solitary assassin.

 

Daoist Han Shan said lightly, “His target isn’t you.”

 

“Then what does he want?”

 

Liu Hong looked surprised.

 

“He simply wants to kill me. He’s been watching me for a long time, but he hasn’t found a weakness, nor could he discern my intentions. Because I’m also waiting for him, guarding against him. This man has a peculiar fondness: he never acts during the day, but only at dusk, after the crows cry.”

 

Daoist Han Shan spoke, revealing a rare, cold smile.

 

Han Ya spent these past two decades in constant secluded cultivation, all in order to surpass him. Staying hidden was part of the plan, waiting for the perfect opportunity to assassinate him.

 

Looking at the sky, as the setting sun shone on the blood-red Misty Peak, it was nearing dusk. This Northern Swamp was the perfect place for an assassination.

 

Liu Hong and Mao Ziyuan stared in disbelief.

 

If Daoist Han Shan was like a mythical dragon, appearing and disappearing without a trace, then Han Ya was a secluded cultivation fanatic, equally rare in the martial world. They only knew of Han Ya through hearsay, knowing very little about him.

 

They hadn’t expected that Daoist Han Shan possessed such detailed intelligence about this mysterious Han Ya. No wonder Daoist was the foremost authority in the Wu Region, someone others could only look up to, unable to even dream of catching up.

 

Caw~!

 

Suddenly, several night crows startled from the reeds.

 

“Halt!”

 

Daoist Han Shan abruptly reined in his horse, waving his hand to halt the pirate army, his gaze cold as he surveyed the vast expanse of reeds.

 

Though there was no sign of anything amiss, his instincts told him something was wrong.

 

Liu Hong’s eyes were clouded with worry, a tremor running through him as he quietly retreated a few steps, distancing himself from Daoist Han Shan. The pirate leaders, Vice Leader Li Biao among them, quickly surrounded and protected their leader.

 

“Quickly, all warriors, protect the leader!”

 

Mao Ziyuan felt a surge of apprehension.

 

A group of twenty to thirty White Lotus thugs, their bodies shimmering with a faint yellow glow, formed a protective circle around their leader, vigilantly observing the surroundings.

 

Yet, after a few cries from the crows in the reeds ahead, there was complete silence.

 

It wasn’t sustainable for a force of over ten thousand pirates to remain frozen in this stalemate.

 

Daoist Han Shan spoke in a deep voice, “Qingmu, you four go ahead and see what’s happening!”

 

He flicked his wrist, sending out four inferior talismans, imbuing them with a pale yellow hue. He knew these meager talismans held little use against a Grandmaster, but they were better than nothing.

 

“Yes, Master!”

 

The four direct disciples looked a little pale, but they didn’t dare defy orders. They each grasped a light sword, the four of them backing against each other, working together to guard against each other, cautiously probing the way forward.

 

They advanced sixty meters.

 

Caw~!

 

Suddenly, a cry of a bird broke the silence.

 

Within the reeds ahead, a dark figure was vaguely visible—a man in dark clothes, a reed hat, and wintry garments, carrying a three-foot green blade at his waist.

 

“No, it’s Han…”

 

The four direct disciples were shocked and quickly turned to flee.

 

“Clang!”

 

The dark figure suddenly vanished, the cold blade was drawn, and a streak of black light swept past.

 

The reeds swayed in the light breeze.

 

Qingmu, Qingshan, Qingyun, and Qingshi raced towards Daoist Han Shan, but their faces were filled with terror and shock. A shallow crack appeared on their necks, from which blood puffed, and they collapsed and died.

 

There was no trace of anyone behind them.

 

Daoist Han Shan glanced indifferently at the four fallen direct disciples and, with a tug on the reins, left the pirates’ army and walked forward sixty meters alone.

 

“Han Ya, come out.

 

“You know you’re no match for me. The world is in turmoil; from the Northwest to the Southern Border, everywhere there are displaced people and pillaging. It’s a time of great upheaval. How about we join forces and take over the Wu Region and its counties and raise an army to go for the rich counties of Jiangnan next! I have Liu Hong and Mao Ziyuan to help me, and I’ve already seized a large number of official army rations, enough to raise tens of thousands of soldiers to rebel and sweep through the counties of Jiangnan. But the problem is, I’d love to find some powerful generals!

 

Pledge your service to me and you’ll have a piece of this world.”

 

“I killed your disciples, and you don’t even care?”

 

A ghostly voice echoed through the reeds, fading in and out.

 

“I intend to achieve great things; I possess no petty temperament. A thousand soldiers are easily found, but a true general is rare. If you are willing to surrender, the five would become a worthy sacrificed to the greater cause, dying a worthy death!

 

“Furthermore, the Whale Gang nearly extinguished your Heaven Falcon Group entirely, killing your sister. This was not my intention. Let their lives be a counterbalance to appease your anger. What do you say?”

 

Daoist Han Shan lowered his gaze, concealing the glint in his eyes, discerning the direction of the voice, and said faintly.