He opened the bandit's inner pocket and pulled out a money pouch. It was very thin, and Lin Fan frowned, deeply dissatisfied.
But when he opened the pouch, his dissatisfaction vanished. Two gold leaves glittered in the moonlight.
One gold leaf could be exchanged for a hundred taels of silver, so two meant two hundred taels. Lin Fan had never seen so much money in his life.
"I'm rich, rich! Bandits really do have high drop rates. If I slaughtered that young chief or whatever, wouldn't I get rich on the spot?" Lin Fan's eyes grew brighter and brighter.
Before, the Green Snake Bandits' young chief's trial had left him living in constant dread. Now he was already thinking about hunting the young chief down. His explosive increase in strength had given him confidence.
"No, an eighth-grade martial artist is still beyond me. I can't let this go to my head," Lin Fan warned himself.
Looking at the corpse at his feet, Lin Fan felt no fear despite having killed someone for the first time. His heart had grown resilient through one ordeal after another.
Lin Fan tossed the corpse into the sea of fire, then kicked twice in succession. Two blasts of Gang Qi burst the corpse apart, and the flames consumed its flesh and blood, leaving no trace.
Lin Fan clapped the dust off his hands, keeping his deeds and fame hidden, then headed back to the manor. The medicinal fields were about to burn away completely; there was no point in staying.
When Lin Fan returned to the manor, he found the atmosphere even heavier. Even the bright moonlight could no longer illuminate this place.
He stepped into the courtyard and saw an entire row of corpses lying there, roughly sixteen or seventeen in all.
His pupils contracted. Tonight's casualties were even more devastating, utterly shattering the heady exhilaration his soaring strength had brought him.
Even at major accomplishment in Body Tempering, he was still only a slightly larger ant, liable to die at any moment.
What relieved him was that Senior Brother Yang Kuan was still there. Only Yang Kuan, Tan Lin, one other inner court disciple, and three outer court disciples remained there. Everyone else had died.
Thirty people had come, and in just two short days, only the seven of them remained. The brutality of this mission had taught Lin Fan a vivid lesson.
The weak could not withstand even the slightest wind or wave.
Lin Fan's return drew their attention. Tan Lin glanced at him before looking away, but Yang Kuan's taut expression eased slightly, and he hurried over to greet Lin Fan.
"Junior Brother Lin, thank goodness you're all right. I saw your mountain was on fire and thought..." His voice was filled with lingering fear and relief.
"My hiding place was fairly remote. That bandit set the mountain on fire, but when he couldn't force me out, he lost patience and left. So I came back." Lin Fan's face was likewise full of relief.
"What happened here?" Lin Fan pointed at the corpses.
Yang Kuan looked downcast. "We fell into a trap. We originally planned to split the six of us inner court disciples into two groups and use our numbers to eliminate two bandits first. But they saw through our intentions. My group only encountered one small fry, while the other group was surrounded and wiped out by the bandits. Not one survived."
Lin Fan glanced at Tan Lin. Useless. With the bandits leading them by the nose at every turn, how could they possibly avoid devastating losses?
There was clearly a mole in the manor. Acting rashly before catching the mole was stupidity beyond measure.
Lin Fan followed Yang Kuan over to the corpses to observe a moment of silence. Once Tan Lin left first, Lin Fan returned to his room to continue cultivating.
Now that only three inner court disciples remained, the bandits could swallow them all in one stroke. He had a feeling the final battle would not be far off-perhaps tomorrow night. He had to seize every second.
His Qi and blood circulated, and his Body Tempering Art progress ticked upward again, but the progress bar made his teeth ache.
Body Tempering Art (perfection 1/9000).
Under ordinary circumstances, nine thousand progress points would only take thirty hours. That speed was already as fast as could be, enough to create a legend.
But the final battle was imminent, and Lin Fan had little time left.
He took a deep breath to ease his anxiety and circulated his Qi and blood with all his might. Every bit stronger he could become counted.
Body Tempering Art (perfection 1/9000)...100/9000...300...500...800...1000.
When his progress reached one thousand, all the flesh in Lin Fan's body vibrated violently again. His Qi and blood surged forth, doubling outright, while his flesh grew more compact.
Lin Fan took out the broken arrow and dragged it forcefully across his arm, leaving only a white mark. Before, even with Iron Cloth Shirt at perfection, it would certainly have split his skin and flesh. Now he had withstood it. His body was terrifyingly strong.
"Body Tempering at perfection gives a hundred thousand jin of tremendous strength. Could my strength shoot up by ten thousand jin every thousand progress points? Nine thousand progress points would be ninety thousand jin. Add the original ten thousand, and that makes exactly a hundred thousand." Lin Fan guessed, believing he was not far off.
This eased the tension in Lin Fan's heart slightly. If the final battle came tomorrow night, even if he could not reach perfection in Body Tempering, several tens of thousands of jin of tremendous strength combined with intent-level Gale Leg would greatly increase his chances of escaping alive.
By sunrise, Lin Fan's Body Tempering Art progress had reached 1,300.
After breakfast, Lin Fan threw himself back into cultivation. He had no intention of resting today.
There was a knock at the door. Yang Kuan had come again.
"Junior Brother Lin, the final battle should be tonight. I've already spoken to Senior Brother Tan. When night falls, the four of you outer court disciples will leave first, each in a different direction. Whether you escape alive will depend on your own fates." Yang Kuan spoke slowly, as though delivering his last words.
A thousand words clogged Lin Fan's throat. Though he had only known Yang Kuan briefly, he greatly admired his character and very much hoped Yang Kuan would not die here.
"Senior Brother Yang, is there really no way at all? With so many people in town, can't we find even one person to go to the martial arts school for reinforcements?" Lin Fan asked, unwilling to accept it.
"It's no use. We've tried everything we should. Before long, the heads of the people we sent out were thrown at the manor gates. We're already turtles trapped in a jar." Yang Kuan's face was full of helplessness.
"There's clearly a mole in the manor. Can this plan really be kept from the bandits?" Lin Fan voiced his concern.
"Don't worry. Senior Brother Tan has already dealt with it. This plan won't leak." Yang Kuan's voice was low. He did not elaborate, but Lin Fan understood. Only the dead would not divulge secrets.
Yang Kuan patted Lin Fan on the shoulder. "Good luck."
With that, he turned and left, leaving Lin Fan with the sight of his forlorn back.
Lin Fan clenched his fists again. "This feeling of having no control over whether I live or die is truly detestable!" He gritted his teeth.
Senior Brother Yang, if it's within my ability, I'll definitely get you out. Lin Fan silently made up his mind, then threw himself back into cultivating the Body Tempering Art.
Body Tempering Art (perfection 1500/9000)...1600...1800...2000...
When his progress reached two thousand, the Qi and blood within Lin Fan did indeed surge and swell once more. The flesh throughout his body was "refined" another level, and his soaring strength made him feel as though he could punch through the world.
By lunchtime, Lin Fan's Body Tempering Art progress had reached 3,000. His Qi and blood surged like a great river, his small body containing forty thousand jin of tremendous strength.
By sunset, Lin Fan's Body Tempering Art progress had reached 5,000. With just a slight clench of his fist, the air shrieked. Truly terrifying, Lin Fan exclaimed inwardly.
The atmosphere at dinner was as stagnant and heavy as a lead pump. Everyone understood that this was their last supper.