18: Chapter 18 Protracted War

Setting up camp?

Chen Fan stopped fiddling with the jade thumb ring.

Interesting.

This Magistrate Zhao De is really willing to give up everything for that useless son of his.

He looked up, scanning the bandit leaders who had followed him in.

Some were panicked, some were disdainful, but most were simply dazed.

"Chief, this... this Zhao De is crazy! He's planning to wait us out until the very end!"

A trace of irritation appeared on Smiling Tiger's fat face.

He was good at scheming, fencing stolen goods, and splitting a single tael of silver into three to spend.

This kind of deathmatch where everything was on the line was beyond his tolerance.

"Wait us out?"

In the corner, the Second-in-Command, Iron-Armed Monkey, wiped his throwing knives and sneered.

"What does he have to wait us out with? Just those ragtag soldiers at the foot of the mountain? If a hundred of them die today, two hundred will desert tomorrow!"

"Big Brother, if you ask me, we don't need to do anything! Just let them feed the mosquitoes down there! In less than half a month, they'll scatter on their own!"

Iron-Armed Monkey's words echoed the sentiments of most of the fierce bandits.

They had a near-blind confidence in their own martial prowess and the geographical advantage of Black Wind Mountain.

Chen Fan didn't speak.

He was currently the Black Wind Demon, a bandit Chief who ruled this group of outlaws through ruthlessness and violence.

He didn't need to explain himself to anyone.

"How long will the food on the mountain last?" he asked the Third Chief, Smiling Tiger.

Smiling Tiger jolted and quickly replied, "Reporting to the Chief, if we're frugal, it won't be a problem to last three months! We have enough water, too!"

"That's enough."

Chen Fan stood up and shouldered the large Ghost-Headed Greatsword.

"Pass down the order."

"From today on, heighten security. Guard the mountain pass in shifts; do not allow a single soldier up here."

"If they want to wait us out, we'll wait them out."

"I want to see whose is harder—Zhao De's official cap or my blade."

Having said that, he ignored the crowd and turned to walk into the corridor leading to the back hall.

He left behind a group of bandits looking at each other in Juyi Hall.

Seeing this, Iron-Armed Monkey laughed loudly. "Did you hear that? Big Brother has spoken! What's there to fear? Let's go drink!"

Only Smiling Tiger stared at the dark corridor entrance, the fat on his face twitching uncontrollably.

Ever the penny-pincher, his heart ached at the thought of using all the mountain's grain reserves to stall the soldiers.

...

The days that followed proved that Smiling Tiger's earlier concerns were not unfounded.

Zhao De was truly insane.

He was like a mad dog that had locked onto its prey, using the lives of the County Soldiers to wear down the morale of Black Wind Mountain.

On the third day after setting up camp, the soldiers launched their second offensive.

It was still at the Narrow Pass, and it was still a brutal battle of offense and defense.

Rolling stones and logs crushed their formations, and a rain of arrows harvested their lives.

They left behind over seventy corpses and retreated.

On the fifth day, they took advantage of a heavy rain to try and climb up the cliffs at the back of the mountain, but they were discovered by patrolling bandits. Dozens of men fell to their deaths, turning into meat paste.

On the eighth day, a night raid.

On the tenth day, a feint.

...

In half a month, more than a dozen skirmishes, large and small, had occurred.

On Black Wind Mountain, the cheers of victory grew quieter by the day.

In Juyi Hall, the number of bandits drinking and eating meat also dwindled daily.

They had won every battle, but the mountain stronghold's population had plummeted from over two hundred to less than a hundred and fifty.

The wails of the wounded were heard everywhere.

Meanwhile, although the soldiers at the foot of the mountain suffered even heavier casualties, their main camp remained as steady as Mount Tai.

It was as if those who died were not living people, but merely cold strings of numbers.

An invisible pressure began to weigh on the heart of every bandit.

Unlike the increasingly oppressive atmosphere in the stronghold, the stone room in the back hall remained peaceful.

Every day, besides "researching" life with his three bandit wives, Chen Fan spent the rest of his time practicing his saber in the stone room.

Whoosh!

The Ghost-Headed Greatsword whistled through the air, whipping up a gale within the small stone room.

Although this body's Aptitude was mediocre, it excelled in having a solid foundation and long-lasting strength.

Half a month of bitter training had deepened his understanding of the Gale Saber Technique by another level.

The Internal Energy in his Dantian had also grown considerably. Although he was still far from the Seventh-Rank True Qi Realm, it was a world of difference compared to half a month ago.

This slow but steady feeling of becoming stronger felt very grounding to him.

"However, there's no point in continuing to train. The Black Wind Demon's skeletal structure is only average; there's no hope of breaking through to the Seventh Rank, so further practice is futile."

Chen Fan muttered to himself.

His bitter training over the past half-month was mainly to experience the feeling of cultivating the martial path.

He couldn't experience it with Zhao Long's body, but the Black Wind Demon's body allowed him to experience it fully.

Just then, the stone door was slammed open with a loud bang.

The Second-in-Command, Iron-Armed Monkey, rushed in with a face full of ferocity.

One of his arms was wrapped in blood-stained bandages, a wound from a stray arrow during yesterday's battle.

"Big Brother!"

Iron-Armed Monkey's voice was somewhat raspy, and his bloodshot eyes were filled with fury and a hint of confusion.

"Something's happened!"

Chen Fan sheathed his saber and stood up, frowning.

The soldiers again?

"Speak."

"Our men were killed at the foot of the mountain!" Iron-Armed Monkey squeezed the words through gritted teeth.

"Not at the mountain pass, but outside the mountain! Three of our brothers sent out for intel are dead! All killed by a single sword strike to the throat!"

Chen Fan's heart stirred.

A single sword strike to the throat?

There were no such experts among the soldiers.

"Who did it?"

"I don't know!" Iron-Armed Monkey punched the stone wall, causing debris to fall.

"The brothers who survived said it was a kid! A youth wearing Taoist robes!"

"That kid is like a ghost, darting in and out of the woods. Our brothers couldn't even touch the hem of his clothes!"

A youth in Taoist robes?

A thin, weak figure flashed through Chen Fan's mind.

Impossible.

He quickly dismissed the absurd thought.

"A mere kid scared you all like this?" he snorted disdainfully, using the Black Wind Demon's tone.

"He's a Martial Artist!" Iron-Armed Monkey said anxiously. "He... he even left a message!"

"What message?"

Iron-Armed Monkey's Adam's apple bobbed; he seemed to find it difficult to say.

"He... he said..."

"He told us all to wash our necks and wait."

"He wants to use the heads of everyone on Black Wind Mountain to honor the spirit of Young Master Zhao Long in heaven!"

To honor Zhao Long?

Chen Fan was stunned.

In this world, besides that fellow Zhao De, who else would seek revenge for a waste like Zhao Long?

And a martial arts expert at that?

An absurd feeling rose in his heart.

"What is his name?"

Chen Fan heard his own voice; it sounded somewhat dry.

Iron-Armed Monkey looked at Chen Fan, his fierce face full of humiliation and resentment.

"That kid is incredibly arrogant!"

"He said to make sure we remember his name!"

"Zhang Shan of Qingyang Taoist Temple!"

"..."

Silence, an endless silence.

Chen Fan's mind felt utterly absurd.

Zhang Shan.

The youth who had kowtowed to him in the courtyard of Tingzhu Pavilion.

The youth to whom he had casually tossed a Breathing Technique manual.

The youth with excellent skeletal structure, whom Daoist Master Xuan Yangzi called a potential Grandmaster.

He had come down the mountain.

With a sword.

To seek revenge for "Zhao Long."

To kill him.

For a moment, Chen Fan didn't even know what to say.

What the hell was going on?