Night Raven Tower Assassin

Entering the realm of a Martial Master, one could look upon the Nobility, military garrisons, and towns of Great Ming and see them as the true pillars of the Martial Path. Joining the army would grant one the position of "Martial Affairs Official" (responsible for the training and equipment of soldiers), while entering a noble family would allow one to become a "Household Guard Commander" (leading Martial Masters to protect the estate). Both were respectable positions readily attainable.

However, Lin Zhao, accustomed to managing Lin Family Fortress, how could he be willing to serve under others?

He had already suffered enough in his past life, groveling and catering to his boss's moods at the company.

With the Proficiency Panel in hand this life, and the Mystic Arm Snow Ape and his blacksmithing skills by his side, he would never again be a beast of burden at others' beck and call. He wanted to live a life of freedom and ease.

"Since I've entered the realm of a Martial Master, I should take a few days to relax. I'll skip my breathing technique practice today and have Ah Chun and Ah Xia come give me a massage tonight—my shoulders and back are stiff from practicing the Three Talents Slash these past few days."

These days, Lin Zhao had been like a wound-up spring: practicing the Mystic Dragon Breathing Technique and the Mystic Wolf Breathing Technique during the day to temper his internal energy, spending his afternoons in the blacksmith's shed forging armor, and calculating the income and expenses of the fortress's mystic iron ore at night. He was so worn out he felt like he was falling apart.

Though his days were fulfilling, he was, after all, flesh and blood, not forged from mystic iron. He inevitably grew tired.

This morning, he decided to rest for three days: sleeping soundly during the day to restore his spirit, and only practicing the Three Talents Slash for half an hour in the evening to loosen his muscles.

A balance of work and rest was the true principle of the Martial Path. Cultivation was a tool for establishing oneself and finding peace, seeking longevity and freedom, and a life without restraint. How could it become a burden?

As night fell, in the side courtyard of the main chamber of Lin Family Fortress, medicinal soup brewed from mugwort and mystic dragon gall floated in a cypress wood bathtub. Lin Zhao soaked in it, the impurities expelled when he broke through to the Martial Master realm floating on the surface, forming a layer of black grime.

The twin maids, Ah Chun and Ah Xia, stood on either side, their slender fingers pressing into the tense muscles of his shoulders and back—those muscles were as hard as old pines, the result of years of practicing breathing techniques and wielding a blade while blacksmithing.

"Young Master's physique is harder than the mystic iron pillars in the fortress. Our finger joints are already sore," Ah Chun pouted playfully, her collar slightly loosened, inadvertently revealing a glimpse of snow-white skin. Her voice was as soft and sweet as honey. "The knots on your shoulders and back need a hot compress for a while longer to dissipate."

"If your fingers are sore, have your sister take over. No rush," Lin Zhao closed his eyes, enjoying this rare leisure. The fragrance of the medicinal soup filled his nostrils, and the fatigue of the past few days gradually dissipated through his pores.

He thought of Zhao Tieying, far away in Northern Garrison City, and secretly mused, "I hope Uncle Zhao's journey goes smoothly and he doesn't encounter any remnants of the Mountain Breaker Gang."

It wasn't that he cared about the fifteen hundred taels of silver for the armor, but Zhao Tieying was the only family he had left. He was a peak Martial Master, a deputy general under his father's command back then, and now he guarded Lin Family Fortress with him. He truly did not wish to lose this elder.

As he pondered, the medicinal soup gradually cooled. Lin Zhao got up, dried himself, and returned to his room to rest.

The stars were sparse, and cold crows perched on the fortress's arrow towers. The night was eerily silent.

A figure in dark, tight-fitting clothing darted like a night cat across the rocky slope of Qixia Mountain, silently infiltrating the valley on the west side of Lin Family Fortress.

The intruder stopped beneath the fortress, which was built against the mountain, and looked up at the ten-foot-high mystic iron city wall, a sneer curling his lips. "This fortress is strategically located, using the mountain's terrain for defense. It's difficult to attack but easy to defend. It's a pity it encountered me, 'Night Raven Guest'."

"I've waited seven days and finally managed to get Zhao Tieying to leave—without a peak Martial Master guarding it, this Lin Family Fortress is ripe for the picking." He tapped the Tiger Fang Dagger at his waist, which had been tempered with internal energy, his eyes glinting with ferocity. "Young Lin Zhao, your head as an entering Martial Master is ours to claim, Night Raven Tower!"

This person was a notorious assassin in the martial arts world, belonging to the "Night Raven Tower," which had branches throughout Great Ming's provinces. This organization was like an underground martial arts agency, its assassins all practicing unique secret techniques. As long as the price was right, they dared to attack anyone, even scions of noble families or military officials.

Night Raven Guest was a wandering Martial Master, with no attachments. After killing, he would flee thousands of miles away, leaving no trace.

In his five years of activity, he had committed countless murders: a retired Martial Affairs Official, three young masters of noble families, a Household Guard Commander from an earldom's mansion, and even two entering Martial Masters.

His current employer was mysterious, communicating through three intermediaries. He didn't even know the employer's name, nor did he care to—as long as the five hundred taels of gold reward was delivered, he dared to take on even a Grandmaster Warrior.

In his eyes, assassinating Lin Zhao was as easy as picking something up.

There were already rumors in the northern nobility circles that this young Centurion of Lin Family Fortress was a "prodigal son" who couldn't even control his own guards, lacking any of the backbone of a martial arts family.

However, Night Raven Guest placed great importance on his assassin's code. Even if his target was a child, he would come fully prepared: a Tiger Fang Dagger tucked into his waist, sleeping pills and quicklime hidden in his bosom, a mystic iron grappling hook in his hand, and even a mask made of ebony, soaked in poison-repelling medicine—the Night Raven Mask, impeccably equipped.

Circling the fortress under the cover of night, he discovered only one dozing guard at the base of the west wall. That guard had only practiced the Basic Slash and Stab Technique and couldn't even be considered a Martial Trainee. He was the weakest defensive point of the entire fortress.

"I'll infiltrate from here, find Lin Zhao's sleeping quarters, and deliver a fatal blow to take his head. I'll be out of Northern Garrison territory within half an hour, leaving no trace." Night Raven Guest's mind raced. He crouched low, approaching, his fingers already gripping the short dagger at his waist.

The guard, a farmer by origin, was already terrified to be chosen for night watch. Leaning against the wall, he dozed, not even noticing someone approaching.

Night Raven Guest believed in the "Netherworld Martial Venerate" of a folk martial arts cult. Before killing, he would silently recite a prayer: "Netherworld Martial Venerate, your disciple acts tonight. I beg for your divine protection. If I return with a head, I shall offer mystic iron as sacrifice."

With that, he suddenly reached out and covered the guard's mouth and nose. With his other hand, the Tiger Fang Dagger swept across the man's neck—the guard didn't even let out a whimper before slumping to the ground. Blood flowed down the base of the wall into the snow, instantly freezing into ice.

Night Raven Guest ignored the corpse, threw his mystic iron grappling hook to catch a battlement, and scaled the city wall with his hands and feet. He landed as lightly as a falling leaf, elegantly brushing the snow off his tight-fitting clothes.

But as soon as he stood firm, he froze in place. Three snow-white giant apes were staring at him with their bell-like eyes wide open, their breath misting in the cold air.

These were the Mystic Arm Snow Apes raised by Lin Zhao! And the area he had climbed over was precisely the Mystic Arm Snow Apes' pen!

"Damn it! Is Lin Zhao a madman? Raising Mystic Arm Snow Apes in the fortress!" Night Raven Guest cursed inwardly, cold sweat beading on his forehead. He had seen adult Mystic Arm Snow Apes in the northern deserts. They were strong enough to lift mystic iron ingots, and their sharp claws could shatter fine iron armor. Even entering Martial Masters had to detour around them.

Though these three were not yet adults, their robust bodies and bared fangs were by no means to be trifled with!

The three Mystic Arm Snow Ape brothers were also taken aback.

Lin Zhao had taught them long ago: they had to remember everyone's scent within the fortress. If a strange scent approached, they had to be immediately alert—the killing intent and medicinal smell on Night Raven Guest were different from anyone else in the fortress. The three brothers immediately bristled.

Night Raven Guest, believing his infiltration was traceless, did not realize he had already been spotted by these three "living beast sentinels."

Now, face to face, though panicked, he forced himself to remain calm. "I fear adult Mystic Arm Snow Apes, but you are still young and not a threat!"

Before he finished speaking, the three brothers charged at him simultaneously—this was Lin Zhao's rule: anyone who did not enter the fortress through the main gate and had a strange scent was to be immediately subdued and killed!

Night Raven Guest's muscles and bones instantly tensed. He circulated his unique "Bone Softening Technique"—this was a martial arts technique passed down in the martial world. It did not rely on brute strength but focused on flexibility and suppleness. When practiced to its depths, one could shrink their bones and change their form, becoming more agile than an ape.

At this moment, his body shrank, and he was half a head shorter. His footwork was as light and agile as the "Singing Steps" of a theater troupe, weaving through the Mystic Arm Snow Apes' sharp claws.

Though the three brothers' attacks were fierce, they couldn't even touch the hem of his clothes.

While dodging, Night Raven Guest sneered, "I told you you weren't my match! If I weren't in a hurry to take Lin Zhao's head, I'd use my Tiger Fang Dagger to bleed you!"

With that, he pushed off the ground, using the momentum to flip over the wooden fence of the beast pen, disappearing into the depths of the fortress's night within the blink of an eye.

The Mystic Arm Snow Apes roared anxiously in the pen, their massive bodies slamming against the wooden fence, causing it to creak, but they couldn't get over it.

The commotion eventually alerted the guards on patrol.

Several burly men carrying lanterns rushed over. Seeing the three brothers frantically clawing at the fence, they assumed they were hungry and quickly brought them marinated meat from Mystic Mane Dire Wolves. They also called for reinforcements to patrol, but they didn't notice the corpse that had long since turned cold at the base of the wall.

Meanwhile, the Night Raven Guest, having escaped, straightened his wrinkled uniform and took out a black ebony mask from his robe, putting it on. The mask's lining was soaked in poison, serving to both conceal his face and prevent him from harming himself with quicklime.

"This is the duty of a professional assassin!" he thought smugly, his steps growing lighter.

He had been an assassin for five years, and the silver he'd earned was more than enough to buy a three-courtyard mansion in Jiangnan. Yet, he was addicted to this life of living on the edge, tasting blood. The money he earned was either used to buy weapons tempered with internal energy or squandered in taverns and brothels. In his eyes, every assassination was a form of "art," and watching the target breathe their last was more exhilarating than watching a play.

Using the cover of night, the Night Raven Guest crept to the window of Lin Zhao's bedroom.

He fumbled at his waist for a set of fine iron wires. This "Nimble Fingers" technique was an essential auxiliary martial art skill for assassins, capable of silently opening ninety percent of the bronze locks in Great Ming.

With a flick of his fingertips, the bronze lock on the door clicked open.

The Night Raven Guest floated into the room like a falling leaf and headed straight for the bed.

On the bed, Lin Zhao lay on his side under the brocade quilt, breathing evenly, a faint smile on his lips as if in deep slumber.

"Sleeping quite soundly," the Night Raven Guest's eyes flashed with cold light. He drew the Tiger Fang Dagger from his waist, dipped his fingertip into the "Blood Sealing Death" poison powder from his robe, and lightly smeared it on the blade. This poison was a secret medicine from the Lingnan martial arts world; even a scratch on the skin would be fatal within half an incense stick's time.

"To die in your dreams, consider it a courtesy from the Netherworld Martial Venerate. Little Centurion Lin Zhao, rest in peace!" he murmured inwardly. With a twist of his wrist, the Tiger Fang Dagger plunged towards Lin Zhao's chest. Even if it didn't hit the heart directly, the potent poison would be enough to kill. It was foolproof.

However, just as the dagger's tip was less than three inches from Lin Zhao's chest, a dark hand, imbued with Mystic Dragon internal energy, suddenly shot out and firmly gripped his wrist!

The Night Raven Guest felt a surge of powerful internal energy, his wrist bones screaming in pain as if they would split. The Tiger Fang Dagger clattered to the bluestone floor.

The attack came out of nowhere. He hadn't even seen when Lin Zhao woke up. What shocked him even more was that Lin Zhao was wearing "Light Chainmail with Vein-Protecting Patterns," and a piece of black iron Heart Mirror engraved with Mystic Dragon patterns was embedded over his chest!

"You... you're wearing armor to sleep?" the Night Raven Guest exclaimed in disbelief. His wrist was being squeezed so hard that even circulating his internal energy felt sluggish.

"You intend to kill me, and you don't allow me to defend myself?" Lin Zhao's voice was hoarse from just waking up, but it carried a bone-chilling coldness.

He had indeed been asleep moments ago, but the roar of the Mystic Arm Snow Ape had woken him. Recalling that he had trained the Snow Ape to recognize unfamiliar scents, he knew an uninvited guest had infiltrated. He decided to feign sleep and wait for the intruder to walk into his trap.

Immobilized, the Night Raven Guest, in a moment of desperation, formed his left hand into a claw and lunged towards Lin Zhao's face. He had practiced his "Netherworld Eagle Claw Technique" for three years, and there was poison hidden in his fingernails. As long as he could scratch Lin Zhao's skin, he could incapacitate him.

But Lin Zhao was already prepared. His body moved with his internal energy, and with a slight sidestep, he evaded the claw attack. Although his Mystic Dragon Breathing Technique was primarily defensive, he had also mastered the "Mystic Dragon Step," making his reactions even swifter than the Night Raven Guest's Bone Softening Technique.

While evading the attack, Lin Zhao suddenly tightened his grip on the assassin's wrist. With a crisp "crack," the Night Raven Guest's right arm snapped!

The intense pain made the Night Raven Guest's vision go black. Before he could even cry out, Lin Zhao grabbed his left arm and, with another "crack," also broke it. Both his arms were now useless, and pain surged through his consciousness like a tidal wave.

Lin Zhao then leaped off the bed, grabbed the Night Raven Guest by the scruff of his neck, and slammed him violently onto the bluestone floor like a sack of potatoes!

With a thunderous "boom," several fine cracks appeared on the ground. The Night Raven Guest spat out a mouthful of blood, countless ribs likely broken. He collapsed onto the ground like a puddle of mud.

His mind was blank, filled with shock: This Lin Zhao, who looked no older than fifteen or sixteen, how could he possess such terrifying strength?

That Mystic Dragon internal energy, the chainmail, the Heart Mirror, and such ruthless methods—how could he be the "prodigal son" of rumors? He was clearly a hardened martial artist who had been fighting for years! "You... aren't you... the prodigal son? Why..."

Lin Zhao had no time for his nonsense. Fearing the Night Raven Guest might have other tricks up his sleeve, he raised his hand to knock him unconscious before interrogating him.

However, having just broken through to the Martial Master realm, he hadn't yet gained full control over his internal energy and strength. This punch landed with his full force, directly hitting the Night Raven Guest's head!

With a "crack!"

The crisp sound was followed by the Night Raven Guest's head splitting open like a rotten melon, blood splattering everywhere.

Lin Zhao stared at his fist, stunned for a long moment before scratching his head and muttering to himself, "Damn, I just broke through to the Martial Master realm, and I couldn't control my strength... Now I can't even ask who sent him."

He looked down at the corpse on the ground, then at his own fist, and suddenly grinned, "Good heavens, my current strength has actually become this formidable?"