Suppressing Bandits

Two days later, a grim atmosphere hung over the military camp. Arrestor Chen Qingzhou, his face heavy with solemnity, gathered the surviving constables of Chun'an County yamen, along with newly arrived elite troops, inside a hastily erected command tent made of cowhide. The tent was thick with the mingled scents of leather, sweat, and rust, the air so dense it felt like it could be wrung dry.

At the head stood a burly middle-aged officer in fine scale armor—the troop leader, Zhao Meng. His cultivation was clearly at the peak of Ninth Rank, his blood and qi faintly radiating outward, creating an invisible pressure. Beside him stood a young officer with an arrogant face and sharp eyes, the deputy leader Sun Gan, who also emanated the fluctuations of a Ninth Rank martial artist. Sun Gan's gaze swept over Chen Qingzhou and the mostly unranked constables behind him, a sneer of undisguised contempt curling at his lips, as if he were looking at a bunch of dead weight.

"Arrestor Chen," Zhao Meng said, his voice booming with the crispness of a soldier, "intelligence confirms the bandit chief 'Black Wind Fiend' Zhang Kui is indeed a Ninth Rank martial artist. He's entrenched on Black Wind Ridge for years, terrorizing the region. His Second-in-Command, 'Ghost Hand' Liu San, has unknown strength, but rumors claim he once held his own against a Ninth Rank fighter without losing. To ensure no slip-ups during the siege, I'll need you, Arrestor Chen, to join me in taking down Zhang Kui." He paused, turning his gaze to Sun Gan. "Deputy Sun, Liu San is your responsibility. Capture or kill him—that bastard's cunning, don't take him lightly."

Sun Gan clasped his fists in a perfunctory salute, his tone dripping with impatience. "Rest assured, Captain. Just a Second-in-Command—how much stock can we put in rumors? Even if he's got some skill, he won't cause trouble. As for the rest..." He glanced at the constables, especially Ye Yun, whose face still bore a sickly pallor. "Let them hang back on the perimeter and stay out of the way. A bunch of wastes who can't even sense Essence Qi—going in would just be suicide."

The words were gratingly harsh. A few young constables flushed red, gripping their blades tighter. Chen Qingzhou's eyes turned cold, but he didn't lash out. He only said in a low voice, "We'll follow Captain Zhao's arrangements. Deputy Sun, on the battlefield, things change in an instant. I'd advise caution."

Ye Yun stood at the edge of the crowd, his eyelids lowered as if he hadn't fully recovered from his severe injuries, his breath weak. But in his heart, he was clear as a mirror: three Ninth Rank experts—Zhao Meng, Sun Gan, Chen Qingzhou—plus over a hundred trained troops and constables, against a few dozen rabble led by a single Ninth Rank bandit chief. On paper, it should be a crushing victory. Yet, after that last bizarre arrest mission, a nagging unease lingered in his mind.

The next morning, a killing intent soared to the heavens. The large force surged like a black tide, charging deep into Black Wind Ridge. The bandit lair was built against the mountain, crude wooden palisades and sparse figures on watchtowers—it looked defenseless.

The battle erupted without warning. Zhao Meng led the charge, heading straight for the largest wooden hut at the center of the lair. A hulking figure like an iron tower burst out with a wild laugh—it was the bandit chief, "Black Wind Fiend" Zhang Kui! He wielded a thick-backed ghost-head blade, his blood and qi churning like waves—also at the peak of Ninth Rank! The moment they clashed, the ringing of metal was deafening, qi blasting outward, kicking up clouds of dust. Zhao Meng's expression shifted—Zhang Kui's strength was savage, his blade technique ferocious, and he was actually gaining the upper hand!

"Arrestor Chen, help me!" Zhao Meng roared.

Chen Qingzhou moved like lightning, his long sword leaping from its sheath, trailing a streak of cold light as he joined the fray. Only with two Ninth Rank experts working together could they barely hold off Zhang Kui's ferocity, the battle grinding into a stalemate.

Meanwhile, Sun Gan had already locked onto a tall, thin figure trying to slip away from the flank—the Second-in-Command, "Ghost Hand" Liu San. A glint of bloodlust flashed in Sun Gan's eyes. "Stop right there, you scum!" he barked, shooting after him like an arrow from a bow. Ye Yun's heart stirred—something about Liu San's escape route and speed felt deliberate. Gritting his teeth, he quietly followed. His duty as a constable and his inner doubts drove him forward.

Liu San's figure darted through the woods in quick, bounding leaps, moving fast enough to lure Sun Gan away from the main battlefield and deep into a dark pine forest. The light was dim under the canopy, the ground carpeted with pine needles that muffled every step. Ye Yun kept his distance, using the trees to hide.

In a clearing ahead, Liu San suddenly stopped and slowly turned around. The panic from his flight was gone, replaced by a sinister, cold smirk.

"Hmph, you clueless fool. Think I'm scared of you?" Liu San's voice was hoarse, dripping with mockery.

Sun Gan caught up, seeing the man stop, and sneered, "Playing tricks! Die!" He flicked his long spear, conjuring several blossoms of light, and thrust it straight at Liu San's vital points with a sharp whistle through the air! The full might of a Ninth Rank martial artist was on display, the spear's tip shimmering with cold light as if to tear the air itself.

But facing this lethal strike, Liu San didn't dodge or block. That smirk on his lips only grew more eerie. Just as the spear tip was about to land, he suddenly dropped low, sliding across the ground like a ghost, while his right hand swept to his waist. A faint, icy gleam—barely visible to the eye—tore through the air without a sound!

"What?!" Sun Gan's pupils shrank in sheer terror! He never expected the opponent's speed and timing to be so vicious and precise! That cold light was too fast—before he could even form the thought to dodge, he felt a chill at his throat!

"Pfft!"

A faint sound of a blade cutting flesh. Sun Gan's forward momentum halted abruptly, his spear clattering to the ground. Both hands clutched his neck, blood gushing between his fingers, his eyes wide with disbelief and fear. A gurgling, airy sound escaped his throat. He stared at Liu San, swayed, then crashed to the ground, kicking up a puff of dust.

Ye Yun crouched behind a thick pine tree, his heart nearly leaping out of his chest, his body ice-cold. He saw it clearly—a strangely shaped flying knife, thin as a cicada's wing, with bizarre feather-like carvings at the hilt! Fast! Precise! Ruthless! This was no ordinary hidden weapon—it was a terrifying killing move capable of threatening an 8th Rank martial artist! The Second-in-Command, Liu San, was actually a deeply hidden Ninth Rank expert! And he was a master of such a deadly Flying Knife Technique!

Liu San leisurely walked over to Sun Gan's corpse, bent down, and pulled out the bloodstained flying knife, wiping it casually on the dead man's clothes. His cold gaze swept the surroundings like a snake flicking its tongue.

"Watched long enough, little mouse. Time to come out, don't you think?" Liu San's voice was mocking, aimed precisely at where Ye Yun was hiding.

Ye Yun took a deep breath, suppressing the churning in his chest. He knew hiding was useless. Slowly, he stepped out from behind the tree, holding his blade across his chest. The sword's surface reflected the dappled light filtering through the trees, trembling faintly—not from fear, but from his body's instinctive reaction.

"Oh? A little constable? And a waste who hasn't even entered the ranks?" Liu San's eyes filled with even more contempt as he sized Ye Yun up. "Perfect timing. I'll send you to keep this fool company in the underworld!" The words barely left his mouth before he flicked his wrist, and another streak of cold light shot out, aimed straight at Ye Yun's heart! Its speed was no slower than the strike that had killed Sun Gan!

Ye Yun's pupils contracted, every muscle in his body snapping taut. He dared not hold back, pushing his enhanced perception—sharpened by his fused soul—to its limit, locking onto the deadly trajectory of that cold light! His body moved on instinct, pushing the basic blade technique he'd practiced for years to its peak. His sword traced a dangerously narrow arc, blocking with all his might!

"Clang—!"

A piercing clash of metal exploded! A massive force surged through the blade! Ye Yun's tiger's-mouth went numb, his entire right arm trembling slightly. He stumbled back a step before barely steadying himself.