Thunderclap Deacon

Chu Ning rubbed the raised characters "Ninth Rank" on the plaque, the thunderous cheers from the training grounds still echoing in his ears.

However, before he could step out of the courtyard, figures stirred in the shadows.

"He even dares to break Instructor Zhou's saber. This kid won't live for three days."

"I heard someone put a bounty on him, ten taels of silver for an arm."

Whispers brushed past his ears, carried by the cold wind. Chu Ning's footsteps didn't falter, the lightning patterns beneath his ragged cloth clothes surging.

He knew the rules of this martial hall too well: elevate the high and trample the low, the strong prey on the weak.

Today he had broken Instructor Zhou's saber; tomorrow, it might be his own head.

The medicinal bath at You Shi hour should have been filled with the bitter fragrance of bone-forging powder, but it now emitted a strange indigo color. The moment Chu Ning's fingertips touched the water, fine blood beads appeared on his skin.

"A new formula?" he glanced at the handyman guarding the bath.

The handyman's neck flushed red, his eyes darting away. "Special supply for Courtyard A. It... it has better body-tempering effects."

"Are the Wang Family's silver coins too hot to handle?"

The handyman flinched, and the medicine ladle in his hand clattered to the ground.

Before he could escape, Chu Ning had already grabbed him by the throat and pressed him against the edge of the bath, lightning patterns crawling up his pale face from his hand. "You've got some nerve, trying to tamper with things in the martial hall?"

Before his words fell, Chu Ning had already shoved the handyman's head into the poisonous bath.

Chu Ning leaned down and whispered, "Speak! Who ordered you to do this?"

The indigo medicinal liquid churned like a living thing as the handyman struggled and screamed, his exposed skin rapidly festering and oozing pus.

"It... it was Instructor Zhou who forced me..." The handyman's throat bones creaked. "He said if I didn't, he'd report me for stealing from the armory..."

Chu Ning released his grip, and the screams abruptly stopped.

Before his words could fully register, the wooden door of the medicine room burst open.

Instructor Zhou stood with his hands behind his back, his sinister gaze sweeping over the bubbling poison bath. He roared, "Chu Ning privately altered the medicinal formula and harmed a fellow disciple! Guards, escort him to the Hall of Punishment!"

Four disciples armed with staffs responded and moved to surround him, but they were repelled several steps back the moment they touched the lightning patterns around Chu Ning.

A flicker of panic flashed in Instructor Zhou's eyes. He secretly clutched poisoned silver needles in his sleeve, about to launch a sneak attack, when a furious roar echoed from the corridor, "Since when does your Zhou Kun give orders in the Hall of Punishment?"

Lei Wanjun strode in, his Ninth Rank pressure causing the bluestone bricks to crack. The old man's hair and beard bristled, his eyes like lightning as he swept over Instructor Zhou. "The Courtyard A medicinal bath is a vital area of the martial hall. Since when are you allowed to overstep your authority and interfere?"

Instructor Zhou forced himself to remain calm and pulled out a yellowed scroll. "Esteemed Hall Master! This brat has been in the martial hall for less than half a month, yet he has repeatedly engaged in private fights and injured others. Today, he even poisoned the medicinal bath. We have witnesses and evidence!"

Chu Ning scoffed, pushed the handyman away, and pulled out half a packet of Crimson Scorpion Powder from his怀. "Instructor Zhou, why don't you explain how a poison strictly controlled by the armory ended up in the hands of a handyman?"

Lei Wanjun took the poison powder and rubbed the private mark of the Wang Family on the seal with his fingertip, his expression turning grim.

Seeing that the situation was unfavorable, Instructor Zhou suddenly lunged, shooting silver needles from his sleeve directly at Chu Ning's throat!

"Clang!"

A rusty saber was drawn, accompanied by purple lightning. The silver needles were crushed into dust by the thunderous force. Chu Ning pressed the edge of his blade against Instructor Zhou's throat and said coldly, "Perhaps you should tell me how much of a cut the Wang Family promised you?"

"Enough!" Lei Wanjun smashed the tea table with a palm, his eyes flashing with cold light. "Chu Ning will be temporarily confined to the dungeon. I will pass judgment after investigating the full circumstances!"

Chu Ning frowned slightly. The old hall master had clearly seen through the deception but hadn't acted on it immediately.

As expected, that night, the sound of horses' hooves erupted outside the martial hall. The Wang Family's Third Elder, Wang Chongshan, personally arrived. His black cloak enveloped him, radiating the pressure of a Ranked Martial Artist. He slammed a calling card onto Lei Wanjun's desk. "Hall Master Lei, a scoundrel from your hall has murdered a disciple of our Wang Family. The Wang Family wouldn't mind cleaning house for the Thunderclap Martial Hall!"

He threw out a stack of silver notes. "It would be a shame, just like the Thunder Saber Sect thirty years ago."

Lei Wanjun crushed his teacup and, in the end, waved his hand.

As Chu Ning, shackled and bound, was pushed into the dungeon, he encountered a scar-faced brute baring his gold-filled teeth. "I'll sell your sister to the dirtiest brothel."

Hearing this, Chu Ning was certain he was from the Wang Family.

The bluestone floor of the Hall of Punishment's dungeon was stained with the blood of years. The scar-faced brute, carrying a blood-stained iron chain, grinned menacingly as he stepped into the prison cell.

"By the Hall Master's order!" The attendant of the Hall of Punishment unrolled a scroll. "Chu Ning is suspected of harming a fellow disciple and must prove his innocence through a death match trial. If he wins, all past offenses will be forgiven; if he loses..."

"His bones will feed the dogs," the scar-faced brute finished, swinging the iron chain, which whistled through the air. He was Wang Kui, a collateral member of the Wang Family, sent to infiltrate the martial hall. Killing intent boiled in his eyes.

Chu Ning grinned. "Death match trial, I accept."

In the center of the Hall of Punishment's dungeon.

Wang Kui stood bare-chested, his muscles bulging, his skin faintly emitting a dark blue hue.

He let out a sinister laugh, stomped his foot, and the ground trembled slightly. He instantly activated the Ironclad Body Technique, his entire body appearing to be clad in a layer of blue steel armor.

A pungent smell of sulfur filled the air, and his fist wind carried a hidden, potent venom.

"Come on, Chu Ning! Let's see if your broken saber can break through my iron armor!"

Wang Kui slammed his fists together, sparks flying. A violent surge of energy, laced with toxic breath, blasted towards him.

Chu Ning, however, did not dodge. Lightning arcs coursed across his body, and the hidden patterns of the Rough Stone Hardening Technique faintly appeared on his chest.

"Bang!"

They met fist against fist. A fierce wind raged, and the bluestone bricks shattered inch by inch.

Chu Ning shifted his footing, using the force to deflect most of the impact, and his rusty saber suddenly slashed upwards diagonally.

"Clang!"

Amidst the harsh clash of metal, Wang Kui's gauntlets cracked, his finger bones splitting, blood dripping from between his fingers.

"How is this possible?"

Wang Kui was terrified. His Ironclad Body Technique was immensely powerful; ordinary weapons couldn't breach his defenses. Yet, Chu Ning's saber had managed to crack his gauntlets?

Chu Ning smiled faintly, changing his saber stance as lightning flashed.

"Cloud-Splitting Style!"

The incomplete saber technique transformed into a purple lightning bolt, instantly piercing Wang Kui's vital point.

As the rusty saber sliced across his throat, lightning patterns surged into his meridians along the wound. A violent surge of lightning power invaded his internal organs.

"Pfft—"

Wang Kui spat out a mouthful of scorched blood. The vital energy within him instantly collapsed, and his dark green iron armor dissipated. He stumbled back, clutching his chest in terror.

"You... you actually..."

Before he could finish speaking, his eyes rolled back, and he fell stiffly to the ground.

The Punishment Hall dungeon was deathly silent.

Lei Wanjun sat on a gilded chair, the iron ball in his palm making a "crackling" sound.

Chu Ning walked forward slowly and tossed the life-and-death contract onto the desk.

The Wang Family's private seal at the end of the contract was stained with blood. He looked up at Lei Wanjun, "In the deathmatch trial, I have won."

"According to the rules, there should be no further repercussions."

Lei Wanjun didn't lift his eyelids. He squeezed the iron ball more rapidly. The vital energy of a Ninth Rank martial artist surged silently through the hall, making several disciples' faces turn pale.

The air was so heavy it felt like it could crush a person.

After a moment, he finally spoke slowly, "Very good."

His voice was deep and carried a significant meaning.

Chu Ning took a step forward and pulled out a blood-stained ledger from his bosom: "But the rules of the martial hall cannot tolerate such a malignant tumor!"

As the ledger was thrown open, the ink-blotted entries stung the eyes.

"Zhou Kun colluded with the Wang Family, embezzled medicinal funds to exchange for poisons. Today he harmed me, and tomorrow he could mix poison into the Hall Master's tea!"

"Thirty years ago, the Thunder Saber Sect was annihilated, seventy-eight people died from poisoning." Lei Wanjun crushed the Wang Family's invitation card, paper scraps mixed with iron powder falling like rain. "Today's Crimson Scorpion Powder originates from the same source as the powder that poisoned my son thirty years ago."

Instructor Zhou, slumped in the corner of the hall, suddenly lunged towards a side door. A poisoned dagger from his sleeve shot towards Chu Ning's back.

"Presumptuous!" Lei Wanjun roared. The iron ball flew from his hand, turning into a streak of light.

"Bang!"

The dagger clattered to the ground.

Instructor Zhou, attempting to escape, had his knees shattered by a palm strike from Lei Wanjun from a distance.

Before he could even cry out in pain, Chu Ning's rusty saber was at his throat. Lightning patterns climbed the traitor's bulging veins along the blade: "The silver the Wang Family promised you, can it afford the thirty-year reputation of the Thunderclap Martial Hall?"

Lei Wanjun slowly stood up, the armrest of the gilded chair cracking with a "kacha." The old man picked up the ledger, his withered finger tracing the "Wang" family's private mark. He suddenly burst into wild laughter, the sound shaking dust from the beams. "A fine Wang Family, known for poetry and etiquette! You harmed my Thunder Saber Sect thirty years ago, and now you're trying to undermine my martial hall's foundation!"

The old man stood up, his Ninth Rank pressure making the beams tremble and shed dust.

He waved his sleeve, and Instructor Zhou was thrown against a pillar like a sack. "Effective immediately, Chu Ning is promoted to Thunderclap Steward, in charge of punishment in Courtyard A!"

"Hall Master!" The Steward of the Punishment Hall stumbled in, holding a blood-stained roster. "According to the ledger's investigation, seventeen people in Courtyard C and nine people in Courtyard B received money from the Wang Family. This is the list..."

Lei Wanjun didn't even look at it. Vital energy surged from his palm, turning the roster into dust. "Steward Chu, what is your opinion?"

Chu Ning flicked the blood off his saber, his gaze like fire-tempered iron. "Tonight at midnight, the Thunderclap Hall will open its prison. Anyone on the list will have one finger severed as a warning; repeat offenders will have their heads hung on the martial hall's gates."