Chapter 32

The Thirteen Great Protectors' Adamantine Bell Shield was highly effective for withstanding blows, but it was certainly not as good for healing injuries as techniques like Ageless Spring Merit. If Bai Lang had learned one of those, the shallower wounds on his body would probably have scabbed over by now. He had been walking along the road for half an hour. The men he'd killed had been occupying a pavilion, but his deductions had led nowhere, and he had no idea which direction to take. In the end, he'd chosen the route leading out of the mountains—at least it was easier to walk.

The road was empty, and the farther Bai Lang went, the less certain he felt. "I wonder how those fellows are doing." At the thought, his ears twitched. He immediately slowed down and used his lightness skill to glide off to the side. After concealing himself, Bai Lang moved slowly through the shadows. He circled around a rocky outcrop and saw another pavilion on the road in the distance. As expected, it held six martial artists carrying swords and sabers.

"Now I really can't tell. Is this the right direction? I can't just stroll over there in broad daylight. If I want to grab one alive..." Bai Lang glanced at the strips of cloth wrapped all over him and weighed the weapons in his hands. "There's nowhere to hide here, so I can't sneak up on them either. If I fight them head-on, and they're as good as the last bunch, I might be joining the dead." Bai Lang truly didn't know what to do. In the end, he decided to wait a while.

These men weren't soldiers in a military formation, so their discipline was probably poor. They were drinking and eating meat in the pavilion, chatting away. Bai Lang focused his power in his ears, but they were too far away for him to hear clearly. Still, one man's gesture made him overjoyed. "Hall Master. Shaolin Temple." Those were the only words he caught, but the direction the man pointed told Bai Lang which way to go. It really was deeper in the mountains.

Bai Lang silently cursed himself for taking the easy way out. I should've gone into the mountains from the start. Aren't temples always built in the mountains? In truth, temples preferred to be built in cities, where money came in faster. Without a sound, Bai Lang turned around. This time, he used his lightness skill right away, not caring about the loss of inner energy as he sped toward the other end of the road. As he used his lightness skill, he discovered that his inner energy had improved.

That fight to the death had clearly helped him grow. Along with gaining an ability almost like battle instinct, his inner energy had become deeper and circulated more smoothly. As he used his lightness skill, his inner energy replenished itself naturally, nearly reaching a state of endless renewal. But Bai Lang knew there were limits. Unless he connected the Bridge of Heaven and Earth and drew on the natural energy between heaven and earth to replenish himself, once he'd digested all the food in his stomach, he wouldn't recover so quickly.

While he still wasn't hungry, Bai Lang raced along the main road. Flight Over Grass required only a light tap of the toes against the ground; he could skim forward almost two zhang at a time, like a low-flying bird. He was already nearly as fast as an ordinary horse. Before long, he passed the pavilion where he'd killed everyone and continued into the deep mountains. But soon another pavilion appeared, with three saber-wielders inside.

Bai Lang smiled, stopped to steady his breathing, then strode toward the three men. With weapons in hand, both sides knew this would be a fight to the death. The three drew their sabers and came out of the pavilion, approaching Bai Lang in a triangular formation. Both sides used the approach to regulate their breathing and circulate their inner energy, preparing for battle. When they drew close enough, they roared and charged.

Bai Lang activated the inner energy of his Golden Bell Shield and channeled his strength into both arms. As he charged, he swept his weapons in a wide arc. His sword and saber formed a ring of dazzling silver light, enveloping two of the saber-wielders. But after a violent rebound and a loud crash, the two men were merely sent staggering back. They had blocked Bai Lang's attacks with their sabers and were unharmed apart from being thrown off balance.

Bai Lang's movements faltered, and the last saber-wielder seized the opening, charging straight at him with a saber slash to the face. The blow came like a bolt of thunder, as if it would cleave Bai Lang in two. Bai Lang roared and tossed aside the sword and saber in his hands, drew his short sword, and channeled his inner energy to block. That was the beauty of the Golden Bell Shield's inner energy: after the rebound, it recovered quickly, like the unending toll of a struck bell.

His short sword was fairly thick, but it was only an ordinary folded-steel blade, and the other man's saber seemed better made. The saber technique carried tremendous force, made even more vicious by the inner energy behind it. But the Golden Bell Shield's inner energy was no joke. The blow snapped the short sword and struck Bai Lang's shoulder. After cutting three inches into his flesh, the saber shattered. Bai Lang was wounded again, and this time the injury was severe. His left arm would probably be useless for a while. With a roar, he lunged forward and slammed his right claw against the saber-wielder's head, driving it into his chest. Then he hooked his tiger claw and pulled, shattering the man's skull.

He had killed one, but the other two had recovered and pounced from either side, their blades of snow-white light threatening to swallow him whole. Bai Lang didn't stop to fight. He simply unleashed his inner energy and used his lightness skill at full speed to run forward. The cloth strips wrapped around his back fluttered in the wind, and new cuts opened across his back. Bai Lang grunted, tightened his muscles with his inner energy to keep the blood from spurting out, and picked up speed.

At this rate, he could only fight while retreating. Neither of the two saber-wielders ahead of him was any weaker than he was. The one he'd killed had probably never expected the Golden Bell Shield to be so effective, or Bai Lang's short sword to be so thick. By the time the saber had cut through the short sword, its blade had already been damaged; it shattered when it struck the flesh protected by the Golden Bell Shield. But Bai Lang's shoulder bone had still been broken, and without proper treatment and a splint, his left arm would be hard to use.

He could only run. He might not even get past the next checkpoint, if there was one, but perhaps he could find a chance along the way to turn around and kill the two saber-wielders—if they insisted on chasing him. Bai Lang had no thought of killing that Hall Master now. Staying alive would be good enough. He could only hope the disciples of the East Sea Wave Watching Pavilion, Flower Washing Sword Washing Sect, Murong Family, Shaolin Temple, and Medicine Valley were strong enough to handle things. He, Bai Lang, couldn't help them anymore.

Bai Lang stumbled and rolled his way at top speed into the wooded ridge beside the road. Meanwhile, the so-called Martial God Hanger accurately gauged the distance and speed of the two saber-wielders chasing him, ready to counterattack at any moment. He couldn't keep running forever.