Chapter Twenty-One: The Martial World

The surge of Red Lotus Cult followers did not alarm Ma San; he knew well enough that the troops he had stationed outside could never withstand such a horde. Yet what shocked him was that, regardless of how these devotees suffered under blade and arrow, even when their bodies were torn and ruined, they remained ferocious and wild. Ma San witnessed one cultist, after his arm was severed, sink his teeth into a soldier’s throat as if oblivious to pain. Where ordinary men would collapse from blood loss and shock, the wounds of the Red Lotus Cultists bled not a drop—only a thin ooze of black fluid seeped out.

Under the black night sky, the cultists moved like the living dead in their frenzy, lightning illuminating Lü Zheng’s cold smile. Ma San involuntarily took a step back. All the world believed in ghosts and spirits, and now, soldiers who once held the advantage in numbers and weaponry saw their morale ebb away into fear.

“Cut off their heads! I refuse to believe they can grow them back!” Ma San roared desperately.

The tide shifted again. Even those cultists whose bodies were riddled with arrows could still move; yet, once their heads were severed, they finally fell. Immortality, in a mortal shell, was but a joke. Lü Zheng signaled with his eyes, and Old Madam She understood, leading several Red Lotus experts straight at Ma San—was it the strategy to capture the king before the thief?

Instantly, dozens of gigantic Ox Crossbows were raised around Ma San. These legendary weapons, said to leave not a blade of grass alive within a hundred feet, were dreaded even by someone as fierce as Old Madam She. Yet, midway, she and her companions changed direction, charging toward Zhou Qian and his three comrades.

Ma San was horrified and shouted, “Kill them! Along with those youngsters!”

The Ox Crossbows were powerful, but their bulk made them cumbersome to turn. In a heartbeat, Old Madam She and her group plunged into the crowd, leaving a trail of blood. Monkey gave a signal, and the three caught on immediately—amid the chaos, escape!

Their position was conveniently by a window—a flaw Ma San believed he had covered, but it was precisely this oversight that offered them a chance. Monkey reached behind his waist and scattered a handful of white smoke, quickly enveloping the area. Two nearby soldiers lunged at once—

Zhou Qian spun around, his palm hidden at his waist, his body low and nimble. He unleashed a Cloud-Breaking move, and the soldier felt only a fleeting shadow; Zhou Qian was already in front of his abdomen, his palms pressing against the armor.

The soldier felt a jolt of pain shoot from his abdomen, nearly losing consciousness. Unfortunately, clad in iron armor, even Zhou Qian’s ferocious palm could leave only a shallow mark—he could not harm through the armor. Enraged, the soldier’s long blade slashed viciously at Zhou Qian’s neck. Zhou Qian’s hands, numbed by the recoil of the armor, could not react in time!

Thankfully, a small knife sliced accurately across the soldier’s throat, spraying blood everywhere. Monkey’s voice rang out: “Good technique, but you lack experience. Clearly a rookie!”

Zhou Qian felt ashamed—how could he forget the soldier wore iron armor? The more perilous the situation, the more frequent the mistakes. But youth grants the right to err. Amidst the smoke, Zhou Qian’s small frame flickered, appearing behind another soldier locked in combat with Monkey, and delivered a palm strike to the back of his neck, dropping him instantly.

“Hurry!” Li Sanshan’s urgent call sounded from outside the window. Zhou Qian and Monkey leapt out, Zhou Qian noticing Wang Hu’s blood-soaked right arm—had it not been for the inches of force, the thick pearwood lattice would never have shattered so easily.

“Catch them! Leave no survivors!” “Old Madam She! Spare them!” Contradictory orders rang from Ma San and Lü Zheng. For Ma San, the two men’s death was crucial to his plan; for Lü Zheng, they were keys to controlling both the martial world and the court—a treasure beyond measure.

Old Madam She charged out the window, followed immediately by three gusts of power aimed at her back. With a cold snort, she twisted her hand and swept aside three thick arrows. Several elite soldiers jumped down, drawing Skyborne Rockets from their waists; fireworks blossomed in the night, and all the troops in the Governor’s mansion abandoned their pursuit of Red Lotus followers, rushing toward the banquet hall.

Zhou Qian and his companions fled in panic, heading for the rear quarters of the Governor’s mansion—

“The whole mansion is surrounded by soldiers; running outside is certain death! We can only go deeper, find a hidden corner to hide for the night. With such chaos, the Six Gates and the Divine Machine Battalion will surely arrive tomorrow—that’s our best chance to escape!” Monkey said hurriedly.

“Damn it! This is insane!” Second Master Li panted, “But it’s damn dangerous, too!”

“Monkey, what do we do next?” Wang Hu asked.

“Split up! Whoever gets out, gets out!”

“There’s a fork ahead—left leads to the inner courtyard, right to the Pavilion of Waters. We’ll split into two teams and act as needed!”

“I’ll go with Monkey; eldest and second brother go together!” Zhou Qian said.

“Be careful, little brother!” Wang Hu looked at Zhou Qian deeply.

Zhou Qian and Tan Monkey headed toward the inner courtyard; Wang Hu and Li Sanshan toward the Pavilion of Waters. Suddenly, Monkey said, “You brothers are close! If I’m not mistaken, you’re doing this so you don’t drag them down, right?”

Zhou Qian was silent. Monkey chuckled, “Looks like we’re sharing life and death now!”

Out of nowhere, a squad of soldiers appeared in a women’s residence. Their leader froze at the sight of the two, then grinned in delight, turning to shout, “Here! Signal!”

Monkey and Zhou Qian exchanged glances, murderous intent surging.

Monkey hunched and rolled, dodging the soldiers’ arrows, then sprang like a nimble ape into the crowd. With a move called Monkey Scoops the Moon, he gouged four ounces of flesh from a soldier’s face, then rolled again—his movements agile and varied, blades and weapons forming a jungle for apes to play.

The leader panicked, reaching for a Skyborne Rocket, but sensed something was wrong—‘Where’s the other one?’

A gust of force swept by; the Skyborne Rocket snapped in two. Monkey had drawn all eyes, while Zhou Qian quietly destroyed the signaling device.

The leader erupted in anger, drawing his waist blade to strike at Zhou Qian. His technique was fierce and ruthless, every move targeting vital points. Zhou Qian, overwhelmed by the aura, found himself at a disadvantage.

Blade techniques thrive on momentum, open and bold. This leader had received personal instruction from Ma San, a master of the blade, and his style was both fierce and subtle. Zhou Qian, unprepared, slipped further behind, several times narrowly escaping disaster. Was blade technique truly so formidable?

“Master, people in the martial world wield either blades or swords—which is superior?”

“A blade relies on force, a sword on change. There’s no comparison. But as for people, sword masters are generally superior!”

“Are you just boasting, Master?” Zhou Qian asked honestly.

“You insolent brat,” Zhou Xun scolded with a laugh. “Blade technique relies on momentum—it springs from the heart. But the heart is fickle, never always bold or reckless. Doubt and hesitation will come, and then even a blade master cannot strike with certain death. The blade’s path demands a heart as hard as iron, but the heart is never truly stone!”

“But Master, you’ve said swordplay has its flaws too!”

“Remember, Qian—there is no ultimate blade technique, nor ultimate swordplay. But in the martial world, there will always be someone who creates a unique style. I hope you become that person.”

‘The flaw of blade technique lies in the heart!’ Zhou Qian suddenly understood.

The broad blade rose with a chilling wind, but Zhou Qian no longer felt fear. Though the moves remained fierce, the momentum could no longer intimidate. After ten exchanges, the leader’s strength waned, and the seamless web of blades revealed a gap. Zhou Qian raised both hands, dodged the blade, and launched a move called Starry Points straight at the leader’s head. The leader hastily switched tactics, his blade forming a swirling defense. Both fought desperately, but Zhou Qian dared, and the leader did not. In the end, the leader withdrew his blade and retreated; Zhou Qian pressed the attack, unleashing six consecutive palms, each stronger than the last. The blade grazed Zhou Qian’s back, but his right palm had already crushed the leader’s throat.

The leader, though a second-rate martial artist, surpassed Zhou Qian in experience and skill. Yet in the martial world, only those willing to risk everything survive—so the leader died, and Zhou Qian lived.

Zhou Qian groaned, touching his back—a long, thin gash ran from his shoulder to his waist. Fortunately, it was not deep; he used breathing techniques to contract the flesh and quickly staunch the bleeding. He then helped Monkey finish off the remaining soldiers.

In this fight, including the leader, Zhou Qian killed four men, the stench of blood thick in the air.

Monkey patted Zhou Qian’s shoulder to comfort his lost and uncertain mood. “You’ll get used to it soon—this is the martial world! Come!”