Kill Them

The swordsman in the Daoist robe rose to his feet, drew the sword with great care, removed the letter pinned to it, and unfolded it. After swiftly scanning it once, he handed it to the other man.

The other man seemed unable to read.

The second man stretched out an arm to receive the letter and read it carefully for a while before raising his head.

"No need for it anymore," he said. "Kill them all."

"Hm?" The swordsman with narrow eyes and high cheekbones shook his head slightly and sighed. "What a troublesome business. There are quite a few of them."

Then he rose with his sword in hand and turned toward the escort agency party a dozen paces away.

The five men behind him rose as well.

An invisible pressure and killing intent suddenly spread through the dark night. Even the bonfire behind them seemed to dim slightly, shrinking back into itself.

"The time has come," Qiao Duanhong said quietly.

He could read lips. Though they were more than a dozen paces apart and the light was poor, the old hand of the martial world had not misread them. Seeing the bearing and expressions of those six men, he knew they had murderous intentions.

The reason lay in that flying sword letter. Though he had no idea what exactly had been written on it, he now knew that aside from the six experts nearby, there might be some peerless expert somewhere—a peerless expert beyond his understanding of what "martial arts" could be.

At that moment, an absurd thought suddenly arose in his heart...

Perhaps that person was not some martial arts master.

Perhaps... a cultivator...

The sort of true cultivator who had always existed only in the tales passed from mouth to mouth among mortals, one whom an ordinary person might never glimpse in an entire lifetime. Or perhaps, an "immortal."

But with life and death before him, all he could do was summon a little more courage. At the very least, he could not meekly wait to be killed.

So he repeated himself. "The time has come. Prepare yourselves."

Then he looked at his daughter and said in a resolute voice, "Jiaxin. In a moment, you follow Sifu. Old Ke, Old Six, we have to hold them back. The woods are dense. It will be enough if the children can escape."

Qiao Jiaxin and Qiao Sifu wanted to speak, but Qiao Duanhong barked, "Shut up. This is not the time for you to be wilful. If anyone gets out, take a roundabout route back to Weicheng. Tell the people at the escort agency to take the silver and leave immediately. For the rest of their lives, they must never show their faces again."

He looked at the six men, then swept his gaze over the dark, gloomy shadows of the trees. "This matter may be connected to those people."

Such rare severity stunned everyone. Qiao Sifu sensed terror in his tone, but he was still confused. "Uncle... what people?"

"Cultivators."

Qiao Duanhong glanced at Liu Laodao, who was "completely unaware that disaster was about to fall upon his head" and whispering with Li Yunxin. "Real cultivators."

The two sides faced each other in the dim firelight, fifteen paces apart.

The swordsman with narrow eyes and high cheekbones curled his lips in a mocking smile. "Why bother? Better for both of us to save some strength. To me, people like you are no more than ants. If we truly fight, you cannot withstand even the might of a single stroke from my sword—why struggle at death's door?"

Qiao Duanhong stared silently at the slender sword in his hand, yet his essence, energy, and spirit had already been driven to their peak. He understood that this was very likely the last battle of his life—yet even now, he had not figured out why this battle had to happen at all.

Why had they been robbed?

And why were they now to be killed?

Everyone wanted an answer to those questions, yet no one spoke them aloud.

Until they heard the youth ask in a light, puzzled tone, "But gentlemen, why do you want to kill us?"

No one had the heart to mock his "stupidity," "naivety," or "the fearlessness of a newborn calf" anymore. Even Qiao Jiaxin merely sighed inwardly. The young girl felt rather sad—she had not expected her first experience of love at first sight to fall upon someone like this.

Yet those words truly shattered the drawn-bow tension in the forest.

The swordsman with narrow eyes and high cheekbones had been poised to pounce, but upon hearing those words, the expression on his face changed in a peculiar way.

He looked somewhat like a man who had been released from a heavy burden.

The swordsman checked his advance, gave a cold laugh, and flicked the slender sword in his palm with a finger. He looked mockingly at the dozen or so people in the distance. "Fine. I'll let you die knowing the truth. When you reach the underworld, do not report the names of our six brothers incorrectly."

"We six brothers are the Six Ghosts of Hezhong. Have you heard of us?"

Qiao Duanhong froze slightly, then frowned. "The Six Ghosts of Hezhong... weren't you killed long ago by Black Blade Ying Jueran?!"

"Heh. Had our brothers not encountered a benefactor, that might indeed have been the truth. But now..." A flash of hatred passed through the swordsman's eyes. "Once we finish this business, we brothers will find him and settle this account properly!"

"Hey, that sounds pretty damn impressive." The youth's flippant voice intruded again with extreme discord. "What benefactor? From your name, it sounds like you people did not used to fare very well. Black Blade Ying Jueran, on the other hand, sounds like quite a figure. Let me guess: you were once villainous characters everyone hated, then stirred up public outrage and were wiped out by that Black Blade in the name of love and justice—oh, oh, about to be wiped out, then you encountered a benefactor. So who exactly was it?"

The swordsman did not grow angry. Instead, he gave a sinister smile. "Hehehe. Speaking of this benefactor—do you common mortals know of the Voidsoar Sword Sect?"

The escort agency party looked at one another. In truth, nearly everyone had heard the name Voidsoar Sword Sect—what province or prefecture did not have a few "Voidsoar Sword Sects"? They simply did not know which one he meant.

But Li Yunxin immediately clapped several times, the crisp sound carrying far into the night. "Wow. Is it the Voidsoar Sword Sect from the legendary Seventy-Two Sects?!"

The swordsman smiled proudly. "You have some knowledge after all."

He cupped his hands toward the east. "That benefactor is a cultivator of the Voidsoar Sword Sect, honored as Huainanzi. He is a personal disciple under the sect master and has come into the world to undergo a tribulation—do you know what undergoing a tribulation means?"

Naturally, no one answered him. So he began speaking on and on of his own accord. In fact, the man did not know all that much; everything he said, Li Yunxin had already heard from Red Pine Master and Kang Cangzi.

At the end, the swordsman said, "...Thus, he bestowed upon us six brothers miraculous pills. Eat just one, and your martial prowess will increase greatly. If you are lucky today, you may even get to see the immortal master himself. Unfortunately, the immortal master has other pressing business today and cannot come... As for people like you, you are useless now."

"So this is a killing tribulation." After listening to him, Li Yunxin said, "That is why you robbed us and herded us here like pigs and sheep, waiting for your immortal master to arrive. When he comes, he kills people. I imagine he has to kill a great many people—there must be more than just the six of you under his command. There are probably other puppets elsewhere, aren't there?"

"People like you find people for him, then when he comes, he kills them one by one. He kills until he is sick of it, bored of it, tired of it, and thinks, 'Wow, killing people is really boring. I should go back to being a quiet handsome man.' Then... he has passed this tribulation. Right?"

Li Yunxin's tone turned serious.

The swordsman looked at him in considerable surprise, then gave a cold laugh. "You little brat know quite a lot—what is your background?"

By now, the escort agency party had more or less become complete spectators. The talk of grotto-heavens, sects, and tribulations had left even the worldly-wise Qiao Duanhong utterly bewildered.

After all, he was not a "cultivator" like Liu Laodao—even Liu Laodao did not know the details and taboos of many famous sects and great schools.

But that did not stop him from gradually realizing...

He had misjudged someone again.

Li Yunxin, whom he had once considered "the son of a merchant, ignorant of worldly affairs and merely pretending to be worldly, mature, and steady," had displayed methods that astonished him.

He did not know how the youth had done it—at the very brink of life and death, a few words had made six killing stars pour out all the secrets they knew in a strange, frenzied display of boastfulness.

Something is wrong. This youth has used some sort of method. Otherwise, things absolutely would not be like this... Who exactly is this youth? Does this mean we can be saved tonight?!

Qiao Duanhong looked Li Yunxin over once more, and his gaze fell upon Liu Laodao behind him.

His heart skipped a beat. Liu Laodao now looked like an entirely different person. He no longer appeared cringing and timid, but calm and composed. He sat cross-legged on the ground, his eyes half-closed, muttering under his breath. He looked...

That was it. It was him! Qiao Duanhong suddenly felt truly, completely at ease. This explained everything—Liu Laodao really had been hiding his abilities. As far as he knew, some masters of the martial world did indeed enjoy disguising themselves as wild, unrestrained madmen.

That swordsman had just spoken of cultivators undergoing tribulations. Perhaps Liu Laodao truly was a cultivator, and he too was undergoing a tribulation!

This explanation was far more reasonable than "that youth is actually some astonishing, heaven-shaking genius"—how could there be so many extraordinary people in this world, and how could he just happen to run into one!

Just then, he saw Liu Laodao's right hand emerge from within his sleeve and form a hand seal.

Almost at the same time, the speaking swordsman's voice suddenly rose sharply. "...Do you know how much suffering we six brothers endured to gain the skills we possess today? Back then, that Black Blade wanted to wipe us out completely, treating us like ants. Today, who are the ants? Who else dares look down on us? Once we finish this job, we will return to Hezhong—those people from before will surely learn... Ha, ha, ha, today we have risen above the crowd and carved out a name for ourselves in this martial world—"

By this point, not only Qiao Duanhong, but even the dullest among them had noticed something strange about the six swordsmen.

They no longer possessed their former arrogance and coldness. Instead, they had become crazed. It was as though several lunatics clutching swords were talking to themselves, utterly unconcerned with who was around them or what the situation was.

From how the six had met, learned their arts, and made the name "Six Ghosts of Hezhong," to what they had done, how many people they had killed, how they had met Huainanzi of the Voidsoar Sword Sect, how they had swallowed the pills, and where they had gone afterward—they spilled everything.

Li Yunxin already knew everything he had wanted to know.

Then he realized that this matter might be somewhat troublesome.

Because he had now figured out the identities of Red Pine Master and Kang Cangzi.