Chapter 48: The Incident Escalates

The several Commanders opposite were completely baffled. Who the hell was this man? They had never heard of anyone completing a mission by slaughtering over a hundred of their brothers. Judging by his expression, it didn’t look like he was lying. And who would do such a sloppy job—leaving a witness alive?

These few Commanders were perhaps of higher cultivation, so the neurotoxin had limited effect on them—barely qualifying as a minor injury.

Ling Chi charged into their midst, his twin spiked hammers whirling fiercely. Not wishing to reveal his identity, he dared not employ the power of thunder or blazing yang.

He simply relied on the sheer force of his body, swinging his hammers without any set form—only quick, precise, and ruthless.

The Commanders were forced onto the defensive, their stances full of openings, which Ling Chi exploited to crush the skulls of two of them.

Of the remaining three, still poisoned and unsteady in their resolve, thoughts of escape filled their minds. But Ling Chi would not allow it.

He gave chase and quickly dispatched them. In just a few strokes, only one Commander at the Qi Sea level remained, while the surrounding soldiers watched from a distance, none daring to approach and throw away their lives.

“Brother Song Jiang, let’s talk this through. I didn’t kill your brothers—I’ve never even heard of such a thing,” the Commander protested. “Let me go—I have some wealth I can share with you, help you make your way in the world.”

“To hell with your Song Jiang!”

“Have you no brains? If you die, all your money will be mine.” Ling Chi’s assault grew even fiercer.

Hope vanished from his opponent’s eyes—he could only make a desperate stand.

But poisoned and faced with such a relentless foe, he could not even defend himself, let alone counterattack. Ling Chi seized the opening, smashed him to the ground with two hammer blows, and finished him with another that shattered his skull.

Ling Chi flashed a white-toothed, rakish grin at the surrounding soldiers, who immediately scattered in panic. He began to pursue them, and the crowd fled in all directions.

Seeing the flames had done their work, he went from body to body, collecting what wealth he could before slipping away into the night.

At dawn, Ling Chi, wearing a conical hat and astride his black horse, rode leisurely along the road.

His night’s haul was considerable: rifling the corpses had netted him five or six thousand gold coins. If not for the fire burning so thoroughly, he might have found even more. Cash was inconvenient to carry, so he took only silver notes.

He had also accumulated three or four hundred wisps of thunder spiritual energy—it seemed his victims weren’t utterly depraved, merely moderately wicked.

He exhaled a long plume of smoke as his great black horse swayed its head and plodded on.

“Killing and arson bring golden belts, but mending bridges and repairing roads leaves no bones behind.”

A villain like me is made for chaotic times such as these.

He mused, if someone like a novel’s protagonist, armed with a system, were to slay him, how much spiritual energy would they gain?

Ling Chi reached out and rubbed his black horse’s ear, urging it to pick up the pace. First, he would return to Crane County, then head to Willow Town.

The black horse surged forward, the roadside trees flying past in a blur.

News of the camp’s disaster was swiftly reported to Li Changyuan in Hezhou. He flew into a rage, smashing the nearby table with a single punch.

He had come to investigate the Lianshan bandit case, but with the bandits slaughtered, it was as if he had lost an arm.

His superiors were pressing him to solve the case quickly—to determine whether it was the work of a political enemy or a vendetta from the martial world.

Li Changyuan felt lately as though he was fated to run afoul of villains—his reputation and authority had both been thoroughly disgraced. He reached out to his backers, hoping to pressure the Office of Tranquil Justice into handing over Ling Chi.

Instead, he was berated mercilessly—who did he think he was, the emperor himself? Even a dog with a leopard’s courage wouldn’t dare threaten the Office of Tranquil Justice as he dared.

“He claimed to be Song Jiang of Liangshan? Said we killed his one hundred and seven brothers?” Li Changyuan fell into deep contemplation—he had done so many dirty deeds over the years that some, lost in the mists of time, he could barely recall.

“What is this Liangshan? Is there a place called Liangshan in our Yingzhou?”

“Reporting to the General, I am a native of Yingzhou and have never heard of any Liangshan,” a soldier replied with conviction.

“What else did he say? Any other clues?”

“The man had a dark face, a full curly beard, wielded two spiked hammers, and his cultivation was high. Commanders Han and the others, even after detoxifying, were instantly killed two out of five in direct combat.”

“I've never heard of such a figure in all of Yingzhou!” Li Changyuan pondered carefully.

“General, our Yingzhou garrison is in utter disarray. Soldiers continue to flee. Please, General, return quickly to stabilize the camp and help us through this crisis!”

“What? Commander Xu hasn’t returned? Did any of the crack troops he took with him make it back?” A jolt of dread struck Li Changyuan—Xu Wang must have fallen; a deep foreboding settled over him.

“Since I left camp, Commander Xu has not returned, nor have any of the men he took with him.”

Li Changyuan drew a deep breath, suppressing the unease in his heart: “Understood. Spread the word—tomorrow we return to camp. Go and summon Commander Wang to me.”

The soldier saluted and withdrew.

Moments later, the heavy thud of footsteps echoed, and a burly figure appeared at the door.

“General, you sent for me?”

“Old Wang, come in and sit,” Li Changyuan gestured with a teacup, inviting him to take a seat.

“Yes, General.”

“Our camp was raided—damn it, by a single man!” Li Changyuan gritted his teeth as he spoke.

“What? That can’t be! Is there such a formidable figure in Yingzhou? Could it have been that damned beast from the Office of Tranquil Justice?”

“No. The men who reported in said the culprit called himself Song Jiang of Liangshan, black-faced, curly-bearded, wielding two spiked hammers. Claimed we killed his one hundred and seven brothers—an oddly specific number. Sounds genuine. Try to recall—have we done anything like that?”

“Phew, General, after all these years, we’ve done plenty of dirty work. Who knows if a hundred or so people might have been caught up in it,” Commander Wang replied.

“This fellow poisoned us first, then set the camp ablaze in the dead of night, then stormed the infirmary and hammered a group of Commanders to death. The dozen or so Commanders left at home are all gone,” Li Changyuan said, pained.

“All gone? What about Xu Wang—he didn’t make it back?” Li Changyuan’s words landed like a string of firecrackers in Wang’s mind, exploding at once.

“Old Xu may have met with misfortune. Before I left Yingzhou, I sent him to ambush that little bastard Ling from the Office of Tranquil Justice. Someone just brought word that none of them have returned. I fear they’re lost.”

“Old Wang, take five hundred men and depart at once. Return to camp, take charge, steady the ranks. Any deserters you catch, execute them on the spot. I’ll return in two days.”

“Yes, General. Rest assured, as long as I’m there, the camp will hold.” Wang was full of confidence, unaware of what awaited him—a camp stripped bare, soldiers scattered, and granaries burned to ash.

Li Changyuan waved him off, and Wang departed without another word.

The door closed, leaving Li Changyuan alone in the darkness, lost in thought.

Crane County, Office of Tranquil Justice

A great black horse with a flowing mane skidded to a halt at the entrance. Ling Chi leapt down from its back.

“Go play in the stables, but don’t bully the other horses,” Ling Chi said, giving its head an affectionate pat.

The black horse nuzzled against him, then trotted off, hooves clopping away.

Ling Chi removed his conical hat, arms full of packages, and strode inside.

“Brother, where’s my master?” he called, grabbing a passing colleague.

“Oh, it’s Young Master Six. Sir is in the back hall, playing with Little Rui.”

“Thanks!”

The man gazed after Ling Chi’s departing figure with envy. Once, they had trained their bodies side by side, but now, his companion had left him far behind.