64: Chapter 64: The Mastermind's Micro-Management! Nine Cages Mountain's Series of Fishing Moves, the Old Monster Takes the Bait!

[Age 36, April 24th. Noon. Jiulong Mountain.]

[The mist is heavy and damp, clinging to the skin and seeping into the marrow.]

[Before you have even taken a hundred steps into the mountain pass, you understand why this place is called Jiulong Mountain.]

[Nine peaks encircle the area, with only a narrow path connecting every two peaks. The narrow paths twist like intestines; one momentary lapse in attention and you'll find yourself in a dead end.]

[The rock walls overhead press down extremely low, making it impossible to deploy flying dharma treasures. The leyline magnetic field is chaotic; your divine sense is churned into mush by the mist as soon as it extends thirty zhang.]

[A natural hunting ground.]

[Easy to enter, hard to leave.]

[You stop for two breaths at the first fork in the road.]

[The path on the left is narrow, with fresh scratch marks on the stone walls—someone has climbed here recently. The path on the right is wide, the ground so level it doesn't look naturally formed.]

[It's too clean.]

[You choose the left.]

[After traveling about two hundred zhang along the narrow path, the terrain suddenly opens up. The rock walls on both sides expand outward into an irregular oval clearing.]

[You stop in your tracks.]

[Not because you saw something.]

[But because the direction of spiritual energy flow in the air is wrong.]

[In a natural state, spiritual energy follows the wind. But in this clearing, spiritual energy forms faint vortices at six specific points.]

[Six people.]

[You shift your stance slightly and tighten your grip on the shuangluo sword, but you do not draw it.]

[Let them make the first move.]

[From behind the stone wall, a dark shadow erupts.]

[A narrow blade stabs directly toward your heart from behind.]

[You sidestep.]

[The blade's edge grazes past your sleeve.]

[In the next instant, the other five strike simultaneously.]

[Leading them is a middle-aged cultivator in green robes with short hair, at the mid-stage of Foundation Establishment Level 1. He holds a decent-quality black iron saber, with dark red runes flowing across the blade.]

["People from the Zhao Family?" you ask.]

[The green-robed cultivator doesn't answer; he slashes down with his saber.]

[You draw your sword; frostfall leaves its scabbard.]

[Water-attribute spiritual energy wraps around the blade as it meets the black iron saber head-on.]

[The sound of clashing metal rings out.]

[You take the opportunity to retreat two steps. You retreat a bit further than actually necessary.]

[The green-robed cultivator lets out a cold sneer.]

["Only this much strength? Clan Master Zhao said you killed Ling Chongyue in ten breaths; looks like he was exaggerating."]

[He slashes three times in succession, his saber momentum fierce.]

[You take them one by one. Every sword parry is perfectly centered, but your body continues to retreat.]

[Retreating with stumbles, retreating in a pathetic state.]

[The other five assassins, at the eighth and ninth levels of Qi Refinement, flank you from both sides, their talismans and spells covering the sky.]

[Your left hand strikes out a water curtain to block the two nearest fire talismans, while your right hand's shuangluo sword slashes horizontally to force back someone on your flank.]

[But to an outsider, you are already struggling to maintain yourself in the gaps of a six-man encirclement.]

[You know there must be someone monitoring from the shadows, observing the upper limits of your combat power.]

[The strength of every move, the footwork of every step—you control them all perfectly. It looks like you're barely coping, but in reality, you've consumed less than twenty percent of your spiritual energy.]

[The green-robed cultivator unleashes a full-strength strike. The dark red runes on the black iron saber glow brightly, and the entire saber transforms into a half-moon-shaped Blood-colored Blade Aura.]

[You show a look of distress, and your footsteps falter.]

[Then, at the moment the blade aura reaches you, the shuangluo sword suddenly flicks upward from below.]

[This strike uses no fancy techniques.]

[Just pure power and angle.]

[With the Sword Mastery trait's boost, your sword cuts exactly into the thinnest junction of the blade aura.]

[The blade aura splits open.]

[The green-robed cultivator's expression changes drastically.]

[The bone-chilling sword qi of the shuangluo sword pours in through the crack, freezing his right arm that holds the saber.]

[He wants to retreat, but you have already closed the distance.]

[A single thrust through the chest.]

[The green-robed cultivator looks down at the blade in his chest, blood foam bubbling from the corners of his mouth, and he collapses.]

[The remaining five fall into complete disarray.]

[You turn and sweep your sword, slaying three more in quick succession within three breaths.]

[The fourth person is kicked away by you, slamming into the stone wall and falling silent.]

[The last one, at the ninth level of Qi Refinement, drops his weapon and runs.]

[You give chase for two steps.]

[Then you stop.]

[Watching that fleeing back, you bend over, propping yourself up on your knees and gasping for breath.]

[The gasping is very convincing.]

[Yet the frequency of your breathing is entirely under your deliberate control.]

["Run..." you mutter in a low voice. "Run back and tell your master that I can still walk."]

[After cleaning up the battlefield, you don't rush to go deeper. Instead, you sit on a rock and swallow half a bottle of Spirit Recovery Pills.]

[The pills melt in your mouth, and spiritual energy quickly surges back—actually, you didn't need it at all.]

[But the observer in the shadows is watching; this action must be performed.]

[Taking pills indicates high consumption. High consumption indicates a lack of stamina for what follows.]

[You're putting on a show for them.]

[Age 36, April 24th. 1 PM to 3 PM.]

[You continue deeper into Jiulong Mountain.]

[After passing through two twisting narrow paths, the terrain becomes even more cramped.]

[A natural pass appears ahead, where the stone walls on both sides nearly meet, leaving only a one-zhang-wide gap in the middle.]

[Behind the gap, two auras are blocking the way.]

[One Metal, one Earth, distinct as day and night.]

[You enter the pass.]

[The mist disperses.]

[Standing on the left is a middle-aged man in fine clothing, with the facial features of the Ling Family's Great Elder's lineage. A short sword hangs at his waist, and a faint golden light surrounds him—Foundation Establishment Level 2.]

[On the right is a short, stout man, his hands covered in a layer of earthy yellow spiritual energy armor, and the stone ground beneath his feet is slightly bulging—peak Foundation Establishment Level 1, Earth-attribute.]

[Metal and Earth attributes.]

[One offense, one defense, supporting each other like horns.]

[The middle-aged man in fine clothing sweeps a cold glance over you.]

["Shen Ji? You actually dared to come in alone."]

[You rest your hand on your sword hilt and say nothing.]

["Those six useless trash couldn't even stop you. I'd like to see—"]

[Before he can finish his sentence, the short sword in his hand is already out of its scabbard.]

[A golden sword qi, like a thin thread, aims straight for your face.]

[Fast.]

[You tilt your head to avoid it, and use the shuangluo sword to block the subsequent rapid slashes.]

[Metal-attribute spiritual energy is fierce and sharp, letting out a piercing hum when it clashes with water-attribute spiritual energy.]

[You are shaken back half a step. This time it's a real retreat; the piercing power of a Metal-attribute cultivator is indeed not weak.]

[But your attention is not entirely on him.]

[The stout man slams both palms onto the ground.]

[The stone slabs beneath your feet explode, and three sharp stone pillars erupt from the ground, stabbing toward your lower body.]

[Using the acceleration from Greased Soles, you leap and shift horizontally, barely avoiding them.]

[The moment you land, the stout man has already rushed close.]

[His fist is wrapped in a thick shell of Earth-attribute spiritual energy as he punches toward your chest.]

[There's no time to deploy the Black Iron Shield.]

[You block with your left arm, and your protective spiritual energy takes a violent impact.]

[Your entire arm goes numb from the wrist to the shoulder.]

[What a hard fist.]

[The coordination between the Earth and Metal cultivators is very methodical—Metal is responsible for cutting and suppressing, while Earth is responsible for blocking the path and closing in.]

[You are forced into the narrow pass by the two of them, struggling to fend them off.]

[—Or so it seems.]

[In reality, you found the stout man's weakness by the third exchange.]

[Every time he strikes the ground to summon stone pillars, there is a gap of nearly one and a half breaths as he retracts his palms.]

[During this gap, he relies on his earth armor to tank hits.]

[But Water overcomes Earth.]

[You just haven't been infusing the shuangluo sword with full-strength water-attribute spiritual energy.]

[After another dozen or so exchanges.]

[You deliberately reveal a flaw of rapid breathing and unsteady footsteps.]

[The middle-aged man in fine clothing predictably takes the bait, lunging with a full-power thrust.]

[Facing the golden sword light, your right hand's shuangluo sword blocks half its force, while your left hand strikes out a palm.]

[Highly concentrated water-attribute spiritual energy, wrapped in ice crystal shards, accurately strikes the stout man's palms just as he retracts his fists.]

[Countless cracks appear on the earth armor.]

[The stout man gives a muffled groan and retreats three steps.]

[You give him no time to breathe.]

[The shuangluo sword shatters the remnants of the golden sword qi, its tip stabbing straight for the stout man's throat.]

[The middle-aged man in fine clothing brings his sword across to save him.]

[You kick off the ground and spin, the sword's edge shifting direction to slice through the fabric and flesh of his right shoulder.]

[Blood sprays out.]

[The middle-aged man in fine clothing retreats while clutching his shoulder. The stout man has his earth armor pierced through by your sword and is pinned against the stone wall.]

["Retreat!" The middle-aged man in fine clothing grinds his teeth and pulls out a teleportation talisman.]

[You give chase for two steps.]

[The sword qi slashed by the shuangluo sword grazes his back, leaving a three-foot-deep ice trail on the stone wall.]

[Missed by half an inch.]

[The middle-aged man in fine clothing disappears in the light of the teleportation.]

[You sheathe your sword, breathing heavily, and drop to one knee.]

[—A perfect kneel. Your back trembles slightly, and your fingers loosely grip the sword hilt, as if you've reached your limit.]

[But your heartbeat is steady and calm.]

[Actual spiritual energy consumption: forty percent.]

[Everyone who was supposed to see it, has seen it.]

[You slowly stand up, dragging the shuangluo sword as you continue further into the mountain.]

[Your steps are heavy, occasionally using the sword tip to prop yourself up against the ground.]

[After walking for about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn.]

[The thick fog suddenly disperses.]

[In the deepest part of Jiulong Mountain, a fortress built of black stone stands in the center of the valley.]

[Three stories high, with watchtowers lining the perimeter.]

[You look up.]

[On the highest watchtower of the fortress, two figures stand side by side, looking down at you.]

[The one on the left is skinny with high cheekbones—Clan Master Zhao. His hands are behind his back, his expression calm.]

[The gray-robed old man on the right has a sinister gaze—Clan Master Ling. The pressure of his Foundation Establishment Level 3 cultivation blankets you from above.]

[You stand forty zhang in front of the fortress.]

[Looking up. Gasping for air. Gripping your sword.]

[Clan Master Zhao looks down at you, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.]

["Shopkeeper Shen, you are certainly on time."]

[Clan Master Ling does not smile.]

[He stares at the various bits of dust and blood on your body, a hint of smugness showing in his cold gaze.]

["Is this all you've got?"]

Shen Ji looked at the frozen image on the light screen—the two old foxes standing on high, looking down at his "exhausted" self.

The corner of his mouth curled up slightly.

The fish had already taken the bait.