Captain Hu's Invitation

Lin Zhao had just dealt with two demonic wolves and turned to find the alpha wolf, only to discover that the cunning beast had already vanished without a trace.

Suddenly, a fierce gust rose behind him, and a savage force slammed into him!

Lin Zhao's heart jolted—it was the alpha wolf, which had circled behind him for a sneak attack.

Caught off guard, he staggered from the impact and nearly pitched headfirst into the snow.

The alpha wolf pounced at once, its gaping maw aimed straight at his face, sharp fangs glinting coldly.

Fortunately, Lin Zhao had long since trained his basic combat technique to Mortal Tier perfection. At the critical moment, he bent his elbow to shield his head and forcibly took the blow. The cloth armor around his elbow creaked under the fangs, its iron plate dented inward.

He immediately twisted at the waist and sprang upright like a carp flipping from the water. His back crashed against a pine tree as he gulped down air. He had underestimated this beast's cunning—it even knew how to make a feint in the east and strike in the west.

Seeing that its ambush had failed, the alpha wolf did not rush to attack again. It retreated several steps and confronted Lin Zhao.

Its amber wolf eyes locked onto him, as though it had seen through the fatigue he had shown while dodging just now, searching for his next opening.

Several short wolf howls came from its throat. Before long, faint footsteps sounded through the woods as three more Gray-Maned Demonic Wolves followed the calls and arrived.

In the blink of an eye, Lin Zhao was surrounded by five Gray-Maned Demonic Wolves. They bared their fangs and slowly tightened the encirclement, their green eyes brimming with greed.

Even a Quasi-Martial Master in the Yingtian Garrison, if surrounded by such vicious wolves, could easily end up without even bones left behind.

"Five already." On the high slope, Zhao Tieying's brows knit slightly. His right hand rested on the hilt of the Shadowless sword, his knuckles whitening as he prepared to leap down and provide aid at any moment.

Looking at the figure surrounded by wolves below, he silently mused, In merely two months, the Young Master has trained the shock force of the Three Talents Slash to such a level. His talent for the sword is even greater than I expected—when the Late General was his age, dealing with three demonic wolves would still have taken some effort.

The battle below continued.

Clad in cloth armor, Lin Zhao spun and shifted his feet like a windmill, doing his utmost to evade the wolves' bites and pounces.

But the wolves were many and strong, and there were always moments when he could not attend to everything. Occasionally, wolf claws struck his armor or fangs bit into his shoulder guards, but they could only leave several pale marks, unable to break through at all. This was the confidence of a human warrior, not some trick he had relied upon.

Military combat had always been inseparable from the protection of armor—whether lamellar armor, cloth armor, scale armor, or chainmail, a good suit of armor was a soldier's second life.

Thus, ever since Lin Zhao began practicing swordsmanship, he had often cultivated while wearing armor and carrying extra weight. First, to temper his inner force; second, to grow accustomed to the weight of armor, hoping that once he removed it in the future, his movements would become even more nimble.

The Mystic Dragon Breathing Technique circulated rapidly through his body, the inner force in his dantian burning like flames and supporting every swing of his sword.

Using the Three Talents Slash so frequently within such a short time consumed an enormous amount of inner force. Lin Zhao knew he could not drag this out—he had to end it quickly.

By now, the Cold Moon sword in his hand was drenched in blood, and dark red splatters covered his cloth armor. The snow beneath his feet had been soaked through with blood, its scarlet hue especially glaring amid the remaining snow.

After a fierce bloody battle, two more Gray-Maned Demonic Wolves that feared death no more than they feared nothing fell beneath his sword. Four wolf corpses now lay piled in the snow.

Seeing this, the crafty alpha wolf wanted to command the last wolf pup to die in its place while it slipped away.

But Lin Zhao had long been prepared. Before it could turn around, he swiftly removed the Zhe Wood Bow from his back, nocked an arrow, drew the string, and fired in one fluid motion.

With a sharp whoosh, the feathered arrow struck the back of the alpha wolf's head, its arrowhead piercing straight through the skull.

The alpha wolf crashed to the ground. After twitching a few times, it went still.

Leaning on the Frost Condensation sword and catching his breath, Lin Zhao looked over the wolf corpses scattered across the ground and gained a clearer understanding of his own strength. Wearing cloth armor, he could confront five Gray-Maned Demonic Wolves head-on. Without armor, he could handle three at most—after all, armor blocked most attacks and saved him considerable inner force.

One had to know that the Gray-Maned Demonic Wolves of this world were exceptionally ferocious. The combined combat strength of three of them surpassed even the fierce tigers of the Jiangnan region.

I'm still far from a true Martial Master, Lin Zhao analyzed inwardly. When fighting people, my opponent will have armor too, and my advantage in armor will vanish completely. Today, I merely bullied beasts that had no weapons.

Overall, the gains from this real battle far exceeded his expectations—the proficiency of the Three Talents Slash had increased by a full forty or fifty points, equivalent to two days of arduous cultivation.

It must be because I use both the sword technique and the Breathing Technique with greater focus in real combat, making the efficiency higher, he thought. Then he shook his head. But safety comes first. This kind of real battle must have a reliable safety net, or else I would be better off cultivating steadily, step by step.

With the Proficiency Panel, he had never needed to rely on "insight gained at the edge of life and death" for breakthroughs. There was no reason to gamble with his life.

The vicious battle just now had consumed more than half his inner force, and intense hunger struck him again.

Lin Zhao had come prepared. He took out a white-flour flatbread and dried cured meat wrapped in oil paper from his chest and swallowed them in a few bites, temporarily easing the emptiness in his stomach.

Zhao Tieying leaped down from the high slope and quickly approached Lin Zhao. Looking at the wolf corpses covering the ground, he said solemnly, "The smell of blood here is too strong. It may draw a large wolf pack or other beasts. Hurry and finish packing up. We're heading down the mountain."

If they encountered a wolf pack of dozens or even hundreds, Lin Zhao would not be the only one in danger. Even if Zhao Tieying, a Martial Master, were surrounded, he would have only one path left: death. Armor was not a wall of bronze and iron; joints, the throat, and other places were all weak points, unable to withstand the wolves' repeated tearing bites.

Gray-Maned Demonic Wolf pelts were thick and warm, excellent materials for fur coats. Their meat was coarse, but it was still rare meat. The estate guards in the fort had not had a taste of meat in a long time.

Lin Zhao emptied the wolf corpses and the muntjac of their entrails and buried them. He tied the prey to a makeshift sled with ropes, then dragged over a thousand jin of game down the snowy mountain together with Zhao Tieying.

Not long after the two left, wolf howls surged through the mountain forest like a tide.

Soon, more than a hundred gray-black Gray-Maned Demonic Wolves gathered at the battlefield, filling the forest clearing to the brim in a terrifying sight.

A wolf pack of this scale would make even a Martial Master who had entered the realm flee at the mere sight of it.

The wolves formed a circle, lowered their heads, and whimpered mournfully, as though mourning their dead companions.

A moment later, a massive silver wolf with shoulders over four chi high and a body comparable to a black bear slowly emerged from the forest. Around its neck grew a ring of snow-white mane, majestic as a male lion. It was clearly the leader of the pack. Judging by its size, it was likely the rare mountain variant known as the Silver-Maned Wolf King.

The Silver-Maned Wolf King lowered its head and sniffed the bloodstains and entrails on the ground. Its eyes were complicated, then it unexpectedly began to swallow the corpses of its own kind in great mouthfuls.

In the frigid Lunar December, food was scarce. To a wolf pack, nothing that could fill the belly could be wasted.

After eating its fill, it leaped atop a huge boulder. Its amber wolf eyes were sharp as blades as they stared fixedly at the tracks left by the sled in the snow and the droplets of blood. Those traces stretched all the way toward Lin Family Fortress at the foot of the mountain.

Intelligent beasts had never wished to become enemies with humans, but the snow had grown thicker with every passing year, while prey in the mountains had become fewer and fewer.

As leader of the wolf pack, it had to feed more than a hundred wolves under its command, and it had long been stretched thin.

The livestock raised within the human fortress below the mountain were undoubtedly an irresistible temptation to it.

When they returned to Lin Family Fortress, the servants and estate guards inside saw the two dragging back a sled filled with prey and immediately burst into cheers, rushing forward to help unload the game.

But Lin Zhao had no mind to celebrate. With a grave expression, he ordered, "Everyone, strengthen the patrols! Three shifts during the day, and light bonfires at night. This hunt made quite a disturbance, and the wolf pack may come seeking revenge. Also, have Zhang Tiezhu's Blacksmith Shop forge more arrowheads and prepare plenty of arrows. Sharpen all the estate guards' Ring-pommel Swords as well!"

After this period of repairs, the fort's defenses had been restored anew. The fort walls had been raised by three chi, cheval de frise had been added at the gate, and two Ten-stone Strong Crossbows had been mounted on the arrow towers.

Of the fifty estate guards under his command, most still wielded farm tools such as pitchforks and sickles, while their defensive equipment consisted of little more than crude wooden shields. Still, they had learned some basic battle formations from Zhao Tieying. Dealing with a single Gray-Maned Demonic Wolf should not be a problem.

Humans were naturally strong, especially in endurance, which far surpassed that of beasts. With the aid of tools and battle formations, many fierce beasts were not as invincible as people imagined.

The gains from this hunt greatly replenished the fort's meat reserves, allowing Lin Zhao to cultivate the Mystic Dragon Breathing Technique with greater peace of mind. This cultivation method required a great deal of meat to nourish one's qi and blood. Previously, when food had been scarce, he had needed to deliberately restrain his cultivation intensity. Now, at last, he no longer had to shortchange himself.

Winter passed and spring arrived. After seeing off the cold snows of the first lunar month, April came in the blink of an eye. The mountain chill gradually faded and the temperature warmed. The snow on the plains outside Lin Family Fortress melted away entirely, green grass broke through the soil, and life flourished everywhere.

The tenant farmers inside the fort began busying themselves with planting spring wheat. When they were not training, the estate guards also went into the fields to help reclaim wasteland. The land along Wulong Pond had always been poor; reclaiming one more mu meant gathering more grain at the autumn harvest.

If the weather was favorable this year, then by the harvest in September, perhaps they could save enough grain to support Lin Zhao's full-force cultivation to the Quasi-Martial Master realm.

As the heavy snow receded, the mountain roads leading to the outside world finally became passable. One morning, Lin Zhao, who had been cultivating the Mystic Dragon Breathing Technique in the fort's courtyard, slowly opened his eyes. Three days earlier, he had received an unexpected invitation sent by Captain Hu of the neighboring Crescent Bay.

The handwriting on the invitation was delicate, yet its wording carried a trace of hollow affectation: "To my worthy younger brother Lin Zhao: Now that late spring has come in April, the Silver Cup Flowers of Crescent Bay under my jurisdiction are in full bloom, blanketing the mountains in white. It is truly a splendid sight. I have prepared a modest banquet and invite you to attend a flower-viewing feast, to enjoy the spring together and discuss the martial path. I sincerely hope you will spare the time to honor us with your presence..."

The letter was signed, "Hu Qian, Captain of Crescent Bay."

"Young Master, shall we attend this flower-viewing feast?" Zhao Tieying asked from where he stood beside him. His tone carried some concern. Hu Qian's nickname was Silver Fox; he was shrewd and cunning, always fond of schemes. His sudden invitation likely concealed some plot.

"No." Lin Zhao did not even raise his head. His tone was crisp and decisive, while his fingers unconsciously stroked the scabbard of the Cold Moon sword.

"Then this subordinate will draft a reply at once and politely decline on the Young Master's behalf." Zhao Tieying bowed, turned, and was about to head for the study to write the response.

"Wait." Lin Zhao stopped him. Looking at the unbroken mountain shadows outside the window, he muttered softly, "Lin Family Fortress has yet to establish a firm foundation. If I attend the banquet alone and Hu Qian sets a trap, I fear I will be unable to escape even with wings. But if I bring you, who will oversee the fort's defenses? The estate guards have learned some battle formations, but there is no capable person to lead them. If wolves or bandits come, they won't be able to hold the fort at all."

There were no swift horses capable of carrying urgent messages eight hundred li and returning within a day in this world. Lin Family Fortress and Crescent Bay were separated by three great mountains. A round trip would take at least four or five days. In such a long time, enough could happen to cause countless changes.

Besides, he had never thought much of the banquets held by the sons and daughters of officials and gentry.

To put it plainly, such banquets were nothing but tedious social gatherings where people of status gathered together to compare splendor, discuss family backgrounds, flatter one another, and pry for information.

When his father, Lin Yuanshan, was still alive, he had once taken him to General Zhang's banquet in Yingtian Prefecture. Those sons and daughters of officials and gentry appeared brotherly and respectful on the surface, but behind the scenes they plotted against one another. They would argue until red in the face over the slightest benefit. He still remembered those false faces clearly.

"Rather than waste time attending a banquet, I might as well practice the family's Mystic Dragon Breathing Technique a little longer." As soon as he finished speaking, Lin Zhao bent down and picked up the thirty-jin stone lock in the courtyard. He settled into a horse stance and began practicing his punches. With every strike, he could feel inner force flowing through his meridians. It was far more substantial than dealing with all that false courtesy.

Guarding his own Lin Family Fortress in peace and security was far better than wading through muddy waters in that den of trouble.

Time flew, and in the blink of an eye, the day of the flower-viewing feast named in the invitation arrived.

In Crescent Bay that April, Silver Cup Flowers bloomed across the back mountain like a spread of white brocade. It truly was a rare sight.

Beyond the three perilous peaks south of Lin Family Fortress, some two hundred li away, lay Crescent Bay under Hu Qian's jurisdiction.

Crescent Bay was especially lively that day. Sons and daughters of officials and gentry came continuously to attend the feast, all dressed in finery. Young masters waved folding fans, jade pendants hanging from their waists, and occasionally recited a few affected poems. Young ladies lifted their skirts, pearl flowers pinned in their hair, gathering in twos and threes to laugh and chat about nothing more than which young master had passed the scholar examination and which young lady had married into a high-ranking family.

"Have you heard? General Zhang of Yingtian Prefecture has betrothed his daughter to Jade-Faced General Xu Yun, who came from the capital!" a young man in a blue robe said mysteriously, drawing a crowd around him.

"Heavens! You mean General Xu Yun? He became a Grandmaster Warrior at only twenty-five. They say his White Rainbow Spear Technique has reached a miraculous level. Last year, he single-handedly broke through the Tatar vanguard camp in the Northern Frontier. Even His Majesty praised him as 'a military talent seen once in a hundred years.' He may well become a marquis or prime minister someday!" Another young man wore a face full of envy, his voice brimming with admiration. "Exactly! What maiden in the capital does not dream of marrying him now? Last night, I even dreamed of riding a white horse with General Xu and hunting in the royal hunting grounds outside the capital..." A young lady in a pink dress covered her face, her voice bashful, drawing a burst of laughter.

"Speaking of which, there was once a martial prodigy in the region north of my father's territory, around Lin Family Fortress. His name was Lin Yuanshan, and people called him the Black Dragon General. Back then, many believed he could break through to become a Legendary Master Warrior. What a pity—he died in the Liaodong war three years ago," a tall, thin young man suddenly said, his tone carrying a trace of regret.

"You mean that Lin Yuanshan? I've heard of him too! They say he was terribly old-fashioned. After his wife died, he never remarried and did not leave behind many children, only one son named Lin Zhao. They say he is a wastrel who squandered away Furong Manor and Anvil Mountain, both left behind by his father, leaving only a run-down Lin Family Fortress." Another young man curled his lip disdainfully.

"Exactly! My father invited him to this feast, yet he actually dared not come. He has no respect at all! A bumpkin with no knowledge like that will never amount to anything in his life!" The speaker was Hu Yue, Hu Qian's youngest daughter. At the mention of Lin Zhao, her face was full of indignation. She had wanted to see what the Black Dragon General's son looked like, only for him to reject the banquet outright, making her feel humiliated.

The more these sons and daughters of officials and gentry talked, the livelier they became. After several cups of wine, some young men and women used flower-viewing as an excuse to slip into the woods behind the hillside and do shameful things.

Though imperial law governed such matters, these offspring of officials had always acted without regard for law or order. So long as they did not cause trouble, no one would interfere.

Meanwhile, in the main hall of Crescent Bay's manor, three men dressed in military official uniforms sat drinking together. Yet the atmosphere was nowhere near as lively as outside.

The man at the head had a long, narrow face and shrewd eyes. He was Hu Qian, master of Crescent Bay. Dressed in a green captain's uniform, with a jade thumb ring on his finger, he looked every inch a calculating man.

Of the other two, one was Xiong Wei, captain of Rock Fort, known as the Grizzly Martial Master.

He stood eight chi tall, broad-backed and bear-waisted. His bulging muscles stretched his official uniform tight, and his neck was a full circle thicker than an ordinary man's. They said he cultivated the inherited Bear Strength, possessed the strength to lift a cauldron, and had once killed a Black-Striped Black Bear barehanded.

The other was Lang Xiong, captain of Frost Leaf Fort, known as the Azure Wolf Martial Master.

He was lean, with eyes as sharp as an eagle's. The curved saber at his waist never left his side. They said his saber was swift as lightning, able to cut down a flying mosquito in an instant. He was a famed fast-blade wielder within a hundred li.

These three were all Lin Zhao's neighbors and officially registered captains of the imperial court. Each governed a region. Though they interacted in ordinary times, they also guarded against one another.

"Thank you both for honoring this humble banquet of mine." Hu Qian raised his wine cup, a smile piled across his face. His gestures carried a trace of shrewdness, but little sincerity.

"Hu Fox, say what you mean. Stop beating around the bush! We at Rock Fort hate this empty nonsense most." Xiong Wei's voice was thunderous. He drained his cup in a single swallow, his tone wholly unceremonious. Years of cultivating Bear Strength had made his temperament as direct as a black bear's, and he disliked Hu Qian's calculating manner more than anything.

"Old Xiong is still the same, giving Brother Hu no face at all." Lang Xiong smiled and tried to smooth things over. His gaze swept over the empty seat of honor, and he asked, "Why is Lin Zhao of Lin Family Fortress not here? He lives closest by. By rights, he should have arrived first."

Hu Qian coughed lightly and set down his wine cup, his tone carrying a trace of disdain. "That boy declined my invitation. In my opinion, it was most likely the idea of that Zhao Tieying at his side. But it does not matter. Without Lin Yuanshan, Lin Family Fortress has long existed in name only. With only Zhao Tieying, that old Martial Master who is nearly past his prime, holding it up, it will not last long."

He paused, lowered his voice, and his gaze turned vicious. "I did not invite you two today to view flowers. I wish to discuss a matter of great importance concerning the future of our three families. For this, I have also invited an honored guest."

With that, Hu Qian clapped his hands. The main hall doors slowly opened, and a burly man in black iron lamellar armor strode in, a Nine-Section Chain Hammer hanging from his waist. His armor plates clashed with a thunderous clang. He wore a savage Wolf-Head Helmet, obscuring his face, while a fierce and baleful aura radiated from his body.

"This is?" Xiong Wei and Lang Xiong's expressions changed sharply. Both looked toward Hu Qian, their hands instinctively pressing against their weapons. This man's aura was far too vicious; he did not seem to be an official.

"Do not panic, gentlemen. This is Brother Diao Kui of the Vagrant Alliance, known in the martial world as Wild Boar. He is not here to seek vengeance today, but to discuss cooperation with us." Hu Qian explained with a smile, though his eyes were watching their reactions.

"You are Wild Boar? I hear you cultivate the Mountain Boar Technique, and possess boundless strength?" Xiong Wei snorted, clearly unconvinced. When it came to strength, he had never feared anyone within a hundred li. "Hmph. Then let me see whether your strength can surpass my Bear Strength!"

Diao Kui glanced at him but said nothing. He merely shifted toward the doorway, blocking the exit to the main hall exactly, clearly afraid that they might run.

"Captain Hu! Have you gone mad? The Vagrant Alliance are rebel bandits wanted by the court, and you dare collude with them? If the Yingtian Garrison learns of this, all of us will lose our heads!" Lang Xiong's face turned deathly pale. His hand already gripped the hilt of his curved saber, ready to act at any moment. He might love money, but he did not have the nerve to join hands with rebels.

"Rest assured, only the few of us know what happens today. So long as you do not speak, how would the authorities ever learn of it?" Hu Qian narrowed his eyes, a sliver of viciousness seeping through his smile. "Besides, the Vagrant Alliance has promised us benefits. So long as we help them gather the garrison's defense maps, once they succeed, the mines of Anvil Mountain and the fertile fields of Furong Manor will be divided equally among our three families!"

Only then did Xiong Wei and Lang Xiong realize that Hu Qian intended to borrow the Vagrant Alliance's power. Their faces instantly turned ashen. Once they became involved in this matter, they would never be able to wash themselves clean.

Diao Kui pulled a black mysterious iron token from his chest. A savage character for "Desolate" was carved on it. He slammed the token onto the table, his voice rough as sandpaper scraping stone. "The Desolate God Token is here. Those willing to follow will share the mines and fertile fields. Those unwilling—this Crescent Bay will be your burial ground today!"