Jiang Dao focused his will, delving into the mental architecture of his power. He brought up the details of his newest skill, the Wind Thunder Poison Sand Palm, and poured his intent into it. Instantly, the status marker flickered.
Wind Thunder Poison Sand Palm [Unmodifiable].
"Thirty years' worth of power, just like the Mad Demon Blood Soul Blade?" Jiang Dao's eyes narrowed. If it was that hard to modify, it meant the palm technique was in the same league as his most powerful blade art.
He glanced at his core attributes, which had shifted again.
Strength: 4.3
Speed: 3.4
Spirit: 1.5
Then he saw it—a subtle annotation next to his Strength. Physical limit approaching.
"The absolute peak is 4.5," he murmured. "Does that mean once I hit it, I'm done? That no matter what I do, I can't get any stronger?" He scowled. That wasn't just bad news; it was a death sentence.
His only internal cultivation method was the Life-Nourishing Art, a technique more suited for recovery than for breaking through mortal limits. True internal arts, the kind that could shatter those limits, were kept under lock and key by the Gang Leader and his second-in-command.
Could he force their hand? Not a chance. Fang Tianba had ruled the Fierce Flame Gang for decades, honing his internal power the entire time. He was a master of the Divine Power Realm, and even with Jiang Dao's newfound strength, a direct confrontation would be suicide. And that wasn't even factoring in the Vice Gang Leader and the Left and Right Guardians. Taking what he needed by force was off the table.
So is this it? Is this as far as I go? A cold dread washed over him. He needed an internal art. It had become an obsession. Without one, in this brutal world, he was living on borrowed time. The Spirit Child Palace would be back for revenge, and he had to be ready.
Exhaling a long, steadying breath, Jiang Dao rose and strode out of his room. His lieutenant, Lu An, quickly saw to his lunch. After the meal, Jiang Dao didn't linger. He gathered his remaining men and set off for the Fierce Flame Gang's headquarters.
The sky, once clear, had turned a bruised purple. The air grew heavy, thick with the promise of rain. Atop his horse, Jiang Dao glanced up at the roiling clouds, a frown creasing his brow.
"Hall Master, a storm's coming," his officer, Du Feng, called out. "Should we find shelter?"
"Go," Jiang Dao ordered.
Du Feng sent his men fanning out, their horses kicking up mud as they galloped off in search of cover. It wasn't long before Du Feng returned, shouting through the rising wind. "Hall Master! There's an old, ruined temple up ahead!"
Jiang Dao signaled for the group to follow. The wind howled, a piercing, mournful sound. They guided their horses into the crumbling temple and began the work of securing the animals and building a fire.
Suddenly, Jiang Dao went still. His head tilted. "Hmm?"
Over the crackling fire and the shrieking wind, he heard it—a faint, shallow gasp, almost too weak to be real, coming from somewhere behind him. His gaze snapped toward a massive, dust-caked Buddha statue looming in the shadows.
"What is it, Hall Master?" Du Feng asked.
"There's someone behind the statue," Jiang Dao said, his voice low.
Du Feng's hand went to his blade. He motioned silently, and his men instantly surrounded the statue, creeping around to its back.
Jiang Dao walked over, his eyes scanning the floor. The space behind the idol was empty, save for thick layers of dust and a few dark, blackish drops of blood. Someone had been here. He closed his eyes, listening, and then, in a flash of motion, drew his saber and slashed.
CRACK!
The blade bit deep into the statue's clay back, revealing a hidden compartment. Curled inside was a little girl, no older than seven or eight. Her face was ashen, and she was trembling uncontrollably, her breathing ragged and shallow. Her eyes fluttered open, wide with terror, as she realized she'd been found.
"A little girl?" Du Feng said, lowering his sword in surprise.
"Who are you?" Jiang Dao asked, his voice softer than before. "Why are you hiding here?"
She just stared at him, biting her lip, silent.
Du Feng grunted. "Maybe she's a mute."
Jiang Dao reached for her. The girl flinched back, letting out a thin, terrified scream. "Ah!" The sound was barely out of her mouth before her eyes rolled back into her head, and she collapsed, completely limp. It was as if the last of her strength had finally given out.
He gently lifted her out of the compartment. The scent of rotten apples—a tell-tale sign of a potent toxin—clung to her. Dried black blood crusted her lips and nostrils. "She's been poisoned," he announced grimly.
Without hesitation, he began circulating his Life-Nourishing Art, channeling its healing energy into her small body. The technique was just as effective on others as it was on himself. Color slowly returned to her cheeks. She groaned, and more black blood trickled from her nose and mouth as wisps of steam began to rise from her head.
Finally, she wretched, spewing a mouthful of black fluid onto the temple wall. The liquid hissed and bubbled, eating away at the stone.
"Gods, what kind of poison is that?" Du Feng breathed, horrified. Who would do this to a child?
With most of the poison purged from her system, the girl's eyes fluttered open again. She stared up at Jiang Dao.
"Who are you?" he asked again, setting her down gently. To have survived a poison like that and run this far... she was no ordinary child.
But again, she said nothing.
"Are you not from around here? Do you not understand me?" Jiang Dao pressed. Still silence.
He nodded slowly. "Fine. If you don't want to talk, you don't have to." He turned away and went back to the fire, sitting in quiet contemplation. The girl watched him, hugging her thin arms as if warding off a chill. A low growl echoed from her stomach.
The rain outside eventually softened to a drizzle and then stopped. An hour later, Jiang Dao and his men were heading for the door. The girl's face fell, and she scrambled after them. As they mounted their horses, she broke into a desperate run, trying to keep up.
"Hall Master, the kid's following us," Du Feng noted.
Jiang Dao pulled on his reins, looking back at the small, determined figure. After a moment, he wheeled his horse around. The girl froze, her eyes wide with panic as he approached. He leaned down, effortlessly grabbing the back of her collar and lifting her onto the saddle in front of him.
"Alright, who are you, and why are you following us?" he asked one last time.
She just lowered her head, silent as a stone.
Jiang Dao sighed. A mute, then. He decided he'd figure it out later.
The journey back was slow, the roads thick with mud. It took them hours to reach Qian Yuan City. Jiang Dao handed the girl over to Du Feng with instructions to take her to the Flying Eagle Hall, then rode on toward the gang's headquarters alone.
The main hall was already crowded. Jiang Dao paid his respects to the Gang Leader before giving a full report on the events in Bluestone Town. He laid out the truth of how Hu Biao and Fan Hu died and even produced the vial of Golden Wave Poison Gas as proof.
"I ask the Gang Leader to deliver justice," Jiang Dao finished, clasping his fists, "and to punish the Left Guardian for his treachery."
"Lies! All of it, slanderous lies!" the Left Guardian exploded, his face purple with rage. He was furious at his subordinates for their incompetence but recovered quickly. "Gang Leader, he's trying to frame me! I barely knew Hu Biao and Fan Hu, why would I order them to do anything? And isn't it suspicious that Hall Master Jiang went on a mission with them, yet he's the only one who came back alive? This reeks of a conspiracy! I say we drag his men in here and torture them until we get the real story!"
"You old snake," Jiang Dao's voice was pure ice. "Are you really going to stand there and deny you sent them?"
"Insolence!" the Left Guardian roared. "You've disrespected me at every turn, Jiang Dao. Do you think I'm some toothless old man you can push around?"
"Left Guardian, let's drop the charade," Jiang Dao shot back, his voice cutting through the hall. "If you want me dead, have the courage to do it yourself. We can set a time and place. A real fight, to the death. Wouldn't that be better than scheming in the shadows like a coward?"
The Left Guardian let out a choked, furious laugh. "You're asking for death! Do you really think I'm afraid to kill you?"
"Then do it," Jiang Dao challenged, his body thrumming with power. "Stop wasting my time with threats. I've been eager to see what the great Left Guardian is really made of."
"Enough!" a powerful voice boomed. Gang Leader Fang Tianba waved a hand, silencing them both. The Left Guardian seethed, his eyes promising a painful death for Jiang Dao.
Fang Tianba turned to Jiang Dao, his face an unreadable mask. "You claim they attacked you first. Do you have proof?"
"My men who were there are my witnesses," Jiang Dao said flatly.
"Gang Leader, he's obviously bought their loyalty!" the Left Guardian spat. "Their testimony is worthless! We must torture them to get to the truth!"
"You hear that, Hall Master Jiang?" Fang Tianba said, his gaze shifting back. "Their word isn't enough. Do you want me to have your loyal men tortured? You did a great service by solving the problem in Bluestone Town, but you cost this gang two Hall Masters. That's a grave offense. Therefore, I declare your merit and your transgression to be balanced. No reward, no punishment. Is that clear?"
A cold fury settled in Jiang Dao's gut. He's protecting him. Fang Tianba was openly siding with the Left Guardian.
"I understand," Jiang Dao said, his voice tight as he bowed his head. "This subordinate obeys."
"Gang Leader, this cannot stand!" the Left Guardian pressed, unwilling to let it go. "He murdered two Hall Masters and butchered his way through the Flying Eagle Hall. If we don't punish him now, he'll only become more of a menace!"
"I have already passed judgment," Fang Tianba said, his voice dropping an octave. "Does the Left Guardian have a problem with my decision?"
The Left Guardian paled. "No, Gang Leader. This subordinate wouldn't dare."
Fang Tianba turned his gaze back to Jiang Dao. "You're young and hot-headed, Hall Master Jiang. I can appreciate that fire. But I don't want to hear about any more massacres. Am I understood?"
"Yes, Gang Leader," Jiang Dao replied, the cold rage in his heart solidifying into something hard and sharp. He had thought Fang Tianba was a true leader, a man of power and principle. He had been dead wrong. The man was a politician, and a biased one at that.
"Good. This meeting is over," Fang Tianba declared.
"One more thing, Gang Leader," Jiang Dao said suddenly.
"Speak."
"The men who rode with me also served with distinction. I promised I would seek rewards for them. With their Hall Masters dead, they have nowhere to go. I would like to formally induct them into my Flying Eagle Hall and see to their commendations myself. I ask for your permission."
The Left Guardian sneered. "And you claim you haven't bought their loyalty."
"Granted," Fang Tianba said, already turning to leave.
The Left Guardian shot one last venomous glare at Jiang Dao before storming out. Jiang Dao watched him go, his own eyes promising murder, then turned and left the hall.
Later, in a private garden pavilion, Fang Tianba casually tossed fish food into a koi pond, a faint smile on his lips.
"A masterful stroke, Gang Leader," the short, stout Right Guardian said as he approached.
"Oh? And why is that?" Fang Tianba asked, not turning around.
"You tested Jiang Dao's strength and nerve, and you did it while making him hate the Left Guardian even more. By so openly siding against him, you've ensured those two can never reconcile. They're now like fire and water."
"I knew the Left Guardian would make a move against him," Fang Tianba mused. "But I never imagined Jiang Dao would take down two Hall Masters so easily, especially after being poisoned. His power is shocking. But his nerve... that's what's truly impressive. To stand in that hall and challenge a Guardian to his face... if a man like that is allowed to reach his full potential, he'll be unstoppable."
"He's a threat," the Right Guardian agreed grimly. "If he'll defy the Left Guardian today, he'll defy you tomorrow. It's best if they simply destroy each other."
Fang Tianba's eyes narrowed. He slowly nodded.
"One other thing, Gang Leader," the Right Guardian said, his voice dropping. "Word has just come in. A major sect in the central plains, the Qiankun Sect, has been wiped out. Their internal cultivation manual has been stolen and is rumored to be heading toward Qian Yuan City."
Fang Tianba stopped scattering food. "Is the source reliable?"
"About eighty percent certain. I also know the Left Guardian is aware of it. The fact that he kept it to himself today means he's probably already searching for it in secret."
"Which manual was it?"
"The 'Innate Sacred Art'," the Right Guardian said gravely.
"The Innate Sacred Art..." Fang Tianba's eyes glinted with ambition. "A technique on par with our own 'Blazing Sun Divine Art'. Find it. Spare no expense, use any means necessary. I want that manual."
"Yes, Gang Leader!" The Right Guardian bowed. The Fierce Flame Gang only had two internal arts, one of which was incomplete. The appearance of a manual like this was enough to ignite a war, pulling every power in the region into a bloody free-for-all.
In his own courtyard, the Left Guardian, Guo Linyu, smashed a stone table with a single palm strike. The ground around it sizzled and smoked, the air filling with an acrid stench.
"Useless fools!" he hissed. He turned to the subordinate standing before him. "What have you learned about the Qiankun Sect?"
"Guardian, our investigation confirms it was a supernatural entity. It seems they angered some ancient power and were wiped out by evil spirits in a single night. We've learned that only an old servant and a young girl escaped. The servant was killed by rival martial artists, but the girl vanished. As far as we know, she's the only one who knows where the Innate Sacred Art is."
"And have you found her?"
"We're tracking her. A local farmer saw a girl matching her description near Qian Yuan City. The other gangs are already turning the area upside down looking for her."
"Find her before they do," the Left Guardian commanded, his voice a low growl. "Even if you have to tear this city apart stone by stone. Fang Tianba cannot get that manual."
"Yes, Guardian!" The man bowed and disappeared.
Guo Linyu stared at the wreckage of the table. If he could get his hands on the Innate Sacred Art, he would command both a righteous and an evil internal power. Not even Fang Tianba could stand against him then. It was true—he already possessed a secret, forbidden art, a poisonous power so potent it could melt steel. Only his most trusted men knew of it.
But the thought of the Qiankun Sect, annihilated overnight by forces beyond their comprehension, sent a shiver of fear down his spine. These were not creatures martial artists could fight. Even at the absolute peak of human potential, a warrior could barely handle a "Strong-level" spirit. Against an "Extermination-level" entity, their attacks would be useless, their defenses a joke.
If it could happen to the Qiankun Sect, it could happen to the Fierce Flame Gang.
They aren't human, he thought, a heavy dread settling over him. We are nothing to them.
Back at the Flying Eagle Hall, Jiang Dao was greeted by his men, their faces a mixture of anxiety and hope.
"Hall Master, what's the verdict? Are we in?" Du Feng asked.
"I've had you all officially transferred," Jiang Dao said, clapping him on the shoulder. "From now on, you answer to me. I take care of my own."
A wave of relief and gratitude washed over the men. "Thank you, Hall Master!" they exclaimed, kneeling in unison.
"Alright, enough of that," Jiang Dao said. "Where's the girl?"
"We had the maids get her cleaned up and changed, sir," another officer reported.
Jiang Dao nodded and headed for his private quarters. His Strength was at 4.3. Just 0.2 more and he would hit his physical peak. He would use the quiet of the evening to push himself over that final hurdle. Once he was at his absolute limit, he would pay the Left Guardian a visit and end his scheming for good.
I wonder if the Iron Shirt and Golden Bell Invincible arts can be merged? he thought. It was a long shot, but if it worked, it would give him the power he needed. Then, even without an internal art, he would be one of the most dangerous men alive.
As night fell, Qian Yuan City remained alive with lanterns and activity. But down at the Liufeng Dock, a territory controlled by the Flying Eagle Hall, silence reigned. The day laborers were fast asleep, the only sounds the gentle lapping of the river and the cool night breeze.
"Hee hee hee..."
An ethereal, chilling laugh drifted through the darkness. A figure cloaked in white materialized near the water's edge, its pale, bare feet not seeming to touch the ground.
"The one who killed Wu Lai is near," the figure whispered, its voice a musical poison. "Now... where should I begin the killing?"
It looked around with bewitching, inhuman eyes and giggled, clapping its hands once. Five spectral children materialized behind it, their mouths stretched into impossibly wide grins, their eyes empty, black voids.
"Go," the white figure purred. "Kill every martial artist you find. Leave none alive. Hee hee hee..."
With silent, eerie smiles, the five children scattered into the night.