Chapter 49: Storming the Fort and Killing
Chapter 49: Storming the Fort and Killing
Within the reed marshes south of Willow Lake City stood the Black Water Fort.
Headquarters of the Devouring Sea Gang.
This notorious hellhole was so dreaded that even Academy Disciples avoided it to steer clear of trouble. Ordinary merchants and common folk trembled before it like confronting tigers and snakes. Trespassing was unthinkable; even an accidental glance toward its territory might provoke the bandit crew, ending swiftly with a fatal blade. In many ways, the Black Water Fort was an even more terrifying place for Willow Lake City and its outskirts than the City Guard Office at its heart or the western White Xiang Academy.
Yet, Fang Cun arrived here and killed without hesitation.
“Who goes there?”
“Dare you strike?”
“Intruder! Sound the alarm—!”
Four or five fell almost instantly. Shocked bandits shrieked as they scrambled backward.
The guards’ cries immediately alerted nearby defenders concealed in the darkness. Figures leapt out, spotted Fang Cun’s location, and surged forward with furious shouts. Suddenly, the marsh teemed with darting shadows, vague yet restless as birds bursting from thickets.
“You cruel bandits, your evils found their reckoning tonight. Die by this blade, and I’ll collect my reward…”
Fang Cun’s jaw tightened as he watched silhouettes flicker in the gloom. Sword light flashed in his right hand. Abundant Internal Breath flowed through him. Nerves sharp. Each strike was ruthless and precise. Every sweep of his sword took one bandit’s life. Though outnumbered, the gap in strength, reflexes, and energy made them as helpless as toddlers before him. Ending them felt effortless.
Eight more fell in moments. Fang Cun pressed forward, advancing straight into their formation.
“He’s monstrous…!”
“Alert the Helmsman—now!”
Seeing Fang Cun’s lethal swordsmanship, the terrified bandits abandoned their attack, scattering backward. Panicked whistles pierced the air. Shrill shouts rose on all sides, wild chaos spreading.
“Who dares strike us?”
The commotion reached the drunken Helmsman and Guardians inside the fort. Startled by the chaos outside, they rushed from their hall. One seized a fleeing patrol guard, demanding: “Report! Who attacks us? Numbers? Appearance? Cultivation level? Is it Qi Refiners from the city?”
The guard had already lost his nerve to the bloody slaughter outside. He stammered hoarsely: “Lots… maybe many attackers? Sword-killers… vicious… at least a dozen brothers dead…”
“What?”
Helmsman and Guardians exchanged shocked glances: “Could it be Academy forces?”
But the report felt wrong. They scrambled atop the fort walls. When straining eyes saw only darkness, one Helmsman—clearly a Qi Refiner—stretched his fingers skyward. Instantly, two lanterns hovering near the main gates soared into the air.
Bang!
The lanterns exploded, unleashing a curtain of flame that illuminated the night.
By this glow, the leaders finally saw Fang Cun, sword in hand, slaughtering their fleeing men.
“Just… one person?”
“Hahahaha!”
Fleur, Fang Cun did not hide. Instead, he laughed boldly. Pulling a white handkerchief from his sleeve, he masked his face below the eyes. Sword pointing slightly downward, he charged straight for the fort gates. Bandits rushing out met cold death: flashing silver steel cut them down, one by one.
Behind the face-covering, he seemed intent on storming the entire fort alone.
“You seek death!”
From the high watchtower, Helmsmen stared at Fang Cun’s lone sword-dash crimson with fury.
“A madman courting slaughter! Slay him!”
Twang!
Mid-charge, Fang Cun heard bowstrings snap from the shadows. Arrows sliced toward his face—hidden archers striking fast. Calmly, he kept moving. While his right hand wielded his sword, his left snapped up at the incoming arrows. An invisible force swept forward to intercept them.
Whizz!
The arrows veered around Fang Cun, killing three bandits instead.
Whoosh!
Reeds ahead suddenly parted. Black figures vaulted out. Something pale sprayed toward Fang Cun’s face—acid powder mixed with nearly silent thorns whistling through air.
Lime powder. Poison needles.
Standard dirty tricks from the Devouring Sea Gang against strong foes. Each step Fang Cun took closer to the gates brought deadlier traps. Now knowing he fought utterly alone, their panic had dulled.
Facing these cheap, effective blows, Fang Cun turned and clenched his fist.
The air around him warped instantly as unseen power gathered.
Like an invisible shield snapping into place before him. Lime powder struck and recoiled, some blinding bandits instead. Needles bound by unseen force froze mid-air, hanging eerily. Fang Cun’s sleeve lashed forward, flinging them viciously back to their source.
“Ah! My eyes—!”
“He shoots needles! Beware!”
Bandits crashed down as if in duress, thrashing like Gourds scattered across ground, shrieking in agony.
Fang Cun leapt cleanly over them. One step closer to the gates.
“Who are you, desecrating our Devouring Sea Gang stronghold!?”
Leaders atop the walls could finally hold back no longer. With wrathful cries, several figures hurtled down. In the lead charged a burly henchman brandishing a heavy cleaver crackling kill-intent. Each powerful stride carried him yards forward until he loomed tall over Fang Cun. His sword flare came like a waterfall descending.
Hush!
Facing the assault, Fang Cun’s expression stayed ice-cold. He simply raised a hand, then clenched empty air.
The charging henchman’s sword was ripped from his grip as if by invisible fingers. It curved murderously downward—gutting his own stomach open. Screaming, he collapsed sideways, entrails spilling. This was no combat skill… but refined Art of Object Manipulation. The legendary Mastery of Sword Flight.
This unseen force could control swords… or knives. Theirs… or opponents’.
“He… he’s a Qi Refiner…!”
After witnessing a commander’s eerie murder, encircling bandits recoiled. But from the darkness, stealthier shapes accelerated.
Buzz—
Something winged past Fang Cun’s neck almost imperceptibly: fast, minuscule. A Spirit Armor Beetle? An instinct lunged him downward. Gravel scattered upward from his feet.
With a flicked finger, one stone shot forth like lightning. The insect shattered on impact.
This was Art of Object Manipulation—Flight of Projectiles!
“Drop your weapon!”
A rasping voice cut the dark. Unseen power surged toward Fang Cun. Another Qi Refiner seizing initiative, their invisible force crashing before forming as a massive spectral hand wanting to seize Fang Cun’s sword. Yet, Fang Cun used the momentum: instantly allowing the pressure to ‘sweep’ his whole body smoothly toward his attacker.
Unseen power surged again, shredding the conjured hand. Then, Fang Cun’s sword tip glided across flesh. The target clutched their bloody chest stumbling away.
Fang Cun felt cold amusement. Compared to the Academy, these fort-bound bandit ‘Qi Refiners’ were weaklings. Their cultivation barely reached middle-stage Qi Refining principles. And their ‘magics’? Truly basic simplicity.
Real experts dwelled within the city walls, comfortably vile. Not rotting here. Any remaining within these walls would hesitate risking themselves if hidden.
If one surfaced… Fang Cun could retreat.
He laughed freely as he advanced, now nearly touching the fort’s threshold.
“Hehe…”
From vast darkness left, a soft feminine giggle echoed.
Fang Cun turned. Night seemed to soften. Faint firelight revealed a seductive woman by his side: cherry lips, ivory teeth, eyes like honeyed apricots simmering mock-tenderness each slow step pressing nearer. Her allure felt cloyingly strong.
Delicate fingers teasingly loosened her collar: revealing twin fragrant mounds. Her voice murmured like a deep dream: “Am I fine…?”
Fang Cun regarded her tranquility. When she reached him, he suddenly smiled: “Am I handsome?”
She froze: blinking almond eyes at him. Though half his face remained veiled, revealed eyes gleamed striking clarity under his smile—warm feeling captured unsuspecting space. Sharp tenderness therein felt capable of flickering stars too… somehow breathtaking.
Clang!
A silver dagger hidden behind her back fell to the dirt.
Compared to the vast heavens… was any distraction profound enough? Two cornerstones held Qi Refiner pathways: Object Manipulation… and Soul Subduing. Art of Object Manipulation relied heavily on Acquired Qi filtered through Innate convergence. Soul Subduing depended primarily upon Innate Qi channels penetrating Acquired ambient sustenance. Thus… Soul Manipulation potency scaled with Innate Qi reserves. Standard Innate Qi strength manifested around three-point-three sparkles—world rarely transcended such brim channels at similar planes.
Fang Cun’s foundation yet remained calm mystery beyond metrics—paths eternal proved deeper.
He’d noticed nothing currently shook his mental focus equaling present shared approach entities. Counterattacking remained effortless when unmarkedly probed souls softer than his own. This woman barely brushed refinement… her abilities stood weak through incomplete Qi Refining strengths.
Seduction required suggestion… not weak display.
Fang Cun’s smile deepened slightly. Moving intimately near, he gently tucked her loose collar secure. Then, with faint palm force pushing center chest, she gasped flying backward unconscious!
Now arrived right before main gates: massive wooden doors lay now mere paces away.
Swiftly… Fang Cun sprung upward. Light as soaring crane, he arced sky-high before landfall atop the gateway apex with impossible elegance. With one hand grasping beam support effortlessly lifting heavy wood… he hauled free the massive plaque emblazoned “Devouring Sea Gang” held overhead triumphantly. Eyes swept downward watching countless panicked bandits stare upward: “The Gang name crumbles tonight!”
CRACK!
One powerful palm strike delivered. Plaque fragmented: black timber chunks rained downward endlessly falling.
“Hahaha!… Devouring Sea Gang?… utterly unremarkable!”
Leaving shattered plaque pieces drizzling downward, Fang Cun propelled backwards, footsteps treading reed-tips hastily retreating rapidly toward blackest wilderness depth escape…