Chapter 93, The Water Devil Strikes

Translator: StarReader

 

Yang Caizhi heard from the hall’s upper echelon that Magistrate Wang hadn’t joined the crowd of officials and martial disciples aboard the warships. He must be safely tucked away somewhere behind, claiming a grand merit without risking his life in the bloody battle at the Vastest Lake.

 

As the county magistrate’s personal guard, Wang Fugui also didn’t need to put himself in danger but got an easy assignment: to protect Magistrate Wang. It was tailor-made for him, a perfect opportunity with no risks involved and rewards after the war.

 

Meanwhile, Li Jiao, another Medicine King Group inner disciple, had no such influential family backing. She had to fight on the battlefield to earn her merits, unlike Wang Fugui.

 

Li Jiao looked at Yang Caizhi pitifully. “Don’t worry,” she said. “The Leader promised that after this battle, everyone will be rewarded based on their merits. Each pirate killed fetches ten silver taels, and five pirates get you a merit point for direct rank advancement. This fight might just boost my Alchemy Hall seniority.”

 

Yang Caizhi groaned inwardly, knowing their meager third-rate cultivation wouldn’t fetch much credit. Survival would already be a blessing.

 

Suddenly, he noticed the heavy burlap sacks they’d loaded onto the fishing boat. Medicine King Group’s higher-ups had instructed them to bring these along.

 

“Tieniu,” he remarked, “Weren’t these the ones your Security Hall disciples brought over last night? What’s inside that makes them so heavy?”

 

Yang Caizhi spoke curiously. “The Leader said they’re all white stones and told us to keep quiet and not ask about them. Who knows what the heck they’re for!” Zhang Tieniu shook his head.

 

As low-level disciples, they were just following orders, too afraid to pry further. Whatever their superiors prepared was likely for battle anyway.

 

In the dead of night, the Vastest Lake stretched out before them, its surface dark and reflecting only starlight and moonlight, obscuring vision beyond a short distance. Hundreds of vessels, large and small, sliced through the water, moving swiftly. Among them were seven warships, dozens of cargo ships, and hundreds of fishing boats, carrying three thousand soldiers and ten thousand martial groups’ disciples. They rowed in silence, the vast army moving stealthily.

 

The soldiers and martial disciples grew quiet, their faces set with determination. Deep into Vastest Lake, they were now at risk of encountering pirates. The upcoming battle against the Whale Gang promised to be brutal; it was uncertain how many martial siblings would make it home alive or how many familiar faces would become just another carcass on this vast, thousand-li lake.

 

…

 

The massive fleet departed from Xikou Town, silently gliding across Vastest Lake for over ten miles. Approaching a small island called Rat Mountain, and not far from Cave Mountain, the first light of dawn appeared in the east, faintly illuminating the distance.

 

Walking ahead was the flagship, where Daoist Han Shan, along with the heads of various groups, stood at its bow, surveying the scene and issuing commands from their central position.

 

Governor Zhao, though renowned as a scholar general, had never cultivated martial arts. Thus, he remained behind in the rear command post, orchestrating strategies without joining the union forces’ march.

 

Leading this expedition was Daoist Han Shan, with Li Shuo, Han Pingshan, and Sun Baihong serving as his deputies. They were accompanied by other group leaders, court officers, three thousand official soldiers, and tens of thousands of martial group disciples, all heading towards the Whale Gang’s fortress.

 

Everyone felt a sense of relief, knowing they had chosen stealth for this operation. The Laba Festival night was perfect to catch the pirates off guard, with dawn being their expected arrival time at West Cave Mountain.

 

So far, everything seemed to be going according to plan. While the Whale Gang pirates excelled in naval combat, many martial group disciples sank like rocks, struggling in water battles. But once they reached West Cave Mountain’s shores, victory would be within grasp.

 

“Notify all ships to heighten caution,” Daoist Han Shan commanded, gazing towards the distant, looming island mountain.

 

Suddenly, a cargo ship beneath them echoed with a dull thud—a sharp tool was forcefully puncturing its hull.

 

Thud!

 

Crack!

 

Soon, a chorus of rhythmic thuds echoed beneath numerous merchant and fishing vessels. It was evident that hordes of water devils were drilling into the ships.

 

The disciples of various groups scrambled in alarm.

 

“The Whale Gang’s water devils are attacking; they’re drilling our boats from below!”

 

“Prepare for battle, dive in, and kill those water devils!”

 

Pandemonium broke out on the lake as ships of all sizes swayed chaotically, crewmen screaming orders.

 

Among the groups’ disciples, some brave souls who could swim jumped into the lake to fight off the water devils, trying desperately to protect their vessels. However, these were elite Whale Gang pirates, well-versed in underwater combat and operating relentlessly on the Vastest Lake. The groups’ disciples, despite their swimming prowess, were no match for these seasoned underwater warriors.

 

Within moments, over a hundred disciples had perished, yet the Water Devils’ drilling persisted unabated.

 

“Brothers,” Ding Shisan roared upon surfacing for air, “drill through them! We reward eleven silver taels for every official or disciple killed. This battle will show those officials and other martial groups what our Whale Gang’s Water Devil Hall is made of. Let them regret ever being born!”

 

Exhilarated, many water devils echoed his cry before plunging back underwater to continue their assault.

 

In mere minutes, several large merchant ships and over a dozen fishing boats had been breached, their hulls filling with lake water.

 

Onboard the merchant vessels, swords and blades clutched by disciples who couldn’t swim trembled in fearful hands. Panicked cries for help echoed through the air.

 

A handful of smaller fishing boats were overturned by water devils at the lakebed, sending many sect disciples into the water. They swam desperately towards other vessels. Only seven large warships remained unaffected.

 

The thick wooden planks at the bottom of these ships were difficult to penetrate even with the water devils’ blades. And if breached, the ships had watertight compartments that prevented sinking.

 

Grandmaster Han Shan and Sun Baihong, Li Shuo, and Han Pingshan—four of the most senior experts—stood tall at the bows of their respective warships, overlooking the entire battle. Their profound cultivation and keen perception allowed them to survey the entire battlefield stretching across several miles.

 

“Whale Gang’s Water Devil Hall has engaged us,” Han Shan observed. “There must be over a thousand water devils, well-prepared to ambush our united fleet midway through Vastest Lake. If we can’t quickly repel these boarding water devils, half of our disciples might perish in this naval battle. How to swiftly counter their tactics?”

 

Han Shan stood poised at the bow, his gaze sweeping across the lakefront battle, calm and composed. He addressed the other Grandmasters and junior leaders: “What are your strategies?”