Edict of Peace 54
Chapter 54: Peerless Expert
The assassin, his face masked in lead-colored metal, his temples already touched with gray, instantly sensed something was amiss. He was already far from the area where Yu Qianfeng had sealed his vital energy.
He gripped his weapon tighter; a bloody aura rose from him. A martial art mimicking a Law Physique manifested as a ferocious, blood-red wolf beside him, its eyes coldly scanning its surroundings. “Good, good,” the assassin muttered, “a masterful display of sound-based combat. I never imagined there would be such an expert here.”
“Those with profound inner strength can kill with a flick of a leaf, a falling flower.” he continued, pacing, his powerful aura swirling within him, his gaze icy, sharp, and vigilant. “Those of the Daoist sects who possess ultimate Yuan Shen (spiritual essence) can kill with the sound of a zither—strings like swords, cleaving mountains and parting seas in a single melody. But I wonder which master has graced us with their presence today? I, though humble, am willing to test my skills.”
He paused beside a large boulder; the wind stirred, the branches swayed slightly.
Then, the zither music shifted.
The trees to his left shuddered; branches fell straight down. Leaves drifted, settling beside the boulder. The assassin exploded into motion, his speed a blur. The boulder shattered, three pale yellow spring flowers beside it crushed to dust under his feet as he lunged towards the source of the music.
He parried a strike, his sword singing a mournful cry.
It felt like clashing blades.
He retaliated with a powerful blow, a blade of killing intent tearing through the air, but it was instantly severed. The blood-red, wolf-shaped blade energy dissipated in mid-air, cleanly sliced, overwhelmed by the relentless wave of energy from the zither music. Blood welled up on the assassin’s face, a man renowned throughout Chen Kingdom, his expression icy but burning with murderous intent.
He had a long and storied career as an assassin.
He had faced all manner of opponents.
Naturally, this included the so-called eminent scholars and experts who transcended the boundaries of martial arts and Daoism, Confucianism and Buddhism.
“Found you.”
He leaped, the air rippling, rapidly closing the distance.
Compared to top-tier martial artists like Xue Daoyong and Yu Qianfeng, he was inferior.
But against those who cultivated the arts of music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, he was exceptionally strong! His background stemmed from one of the various schools of thought of the Hundred Schools of Thought; he specialized in concealing his presence and vital energy, then launching surprise attacks. He understood that these four arts, cultivated to the highest level and combined with spiritual essence, could yield remarkable effects.
However, such experts had a weakness:
Close-quarters combat!
Within a three-foot radius, a martial artist was unrestrained.
The man wielded his blade in a frenzy, cleaving through the seemingly endless waves of zither energy. The shattered energy remnants tore through trees, boulders, and earth, leaving a trail of destruction for several li (approximately half a kilometer). His eyes widened as he finally saw the woman: She sat on a grey stone, her hands on a zither. The assassin’s vital energy surged, and he unleashed a forbidden technique.
His speed increased, ignoring the onslaught of zither-generated blades.
The woman raised her zither to block the blow.
The assassin pressed down hard on the back of his blade with his left hand.
His vital energy erupted again.
“You lose!!!”
A bloody spray erupted.
A head flew into the air, then landed on the ground.
The headless assassin seemed to commit suicide, using his own blade to sever his own neck.
He stood there, staggering.
His head lay on the ground, a smile still on his face. The leaves he had seen earlier finally drifted down, landing on his body. Then, his body collapsed, falling to his knees beside the boulder—the boulder that should have been shattered, beside the pale yellow flowers now stained crimson with blood.
The wind rustled the leaves; their sound was like a lingering zither melody.
The first movement of the piece ended, peacefully.
Chen Kingdom’s Southern Dynasty assassin, number seventy-three.
Died by self-inflicted wounds.
Li Guanyi charged into the encirclement of five assassins. He ducked low, avoiding a crisscrossing flurry of sword strikes. Then, he planted his feet, twisting his body and launching himself upward. His blade’s hilt slammed into one assassin’s abdomen, contorting his face in pain. Li Guanyi then swung his blade, forcing back the others.
His blade was ferociously sharp.
The five assassins had initially believed that their skill far surpassed this young man’s. But in combat, they discovered that without their usual stealthy tactics, they were ill-prepared for this brutal, close-quarters fight. Their bodies had been refined by vital energy, exceeding that of the young man—a source of their confidence.
But now they found that was not entirely true.
The strength of a tiger or elephant surpasses that of a man, yet they are no match for humans.
Strength alone doesn’t decide victory.
The heavy blade swept across with the Po Jun Eight Cuts technique, generating a circle of wind that forced back their weapons. He moved like a butterfly—despite his heavy blade, it moved with the grace of a scimitar. With a precise footwork, his blade kissed the throat of an assassin, spilling blood.
The skilled martial artist, capable of cleaving blade energy, stumbled back, clutching his throat.
He quickly sealed his meridians with internal energy, then used silver needles to close his vital energy pathways, somehow saving his life. However, his vital energy was depleted, rendering him weak. Any further exertion would cause a fatal hemorrhage.
He suddenly remembered the first lesson his teacher had taught him:
Martial arts are the skill of using the least amount of strength to overcome your enemy.
The path to victory through weakness.
Li Guanyi relaxed his muscles.
“The first one.”
Break the formation, blunt their advance! Boost my own morale—from *The Art of War: On the Battlefield*.
Li Guanyi dismissed the military strategies taught to him by General Xue.
He didn’t understand why these words suddenly appeared in his mind, leading him to choose a strategy of all-out assault to eliminate one opponent first.
In that moment, he intimidated the remaining four assassins, who hesitated to approach. The aura of countless battles, honed in countless life-or-death struggles, gave them a strange sensation. They felt they weren’t facing a mere youth but, vaguely, a seasoned general returned from the battlefield.
Assassins skilled in concealing their vital energy were exposed to the sunlight.
Facing a general unrestrained in battle.
Fear inexplicably surged. The leader suppressed his emotions, shouting, “Form the formation! Even if he’s a natural-born general, he can’t kill all five of us without paying a price.”
They moved with agile steps, attacking. Even though Li Guanyi had instantly eliminated one opponent, he found himself in a desperate struggle. With roughly equal skill, the advantage of numbers was clear.
The assassins changed their tactics; no longer overconfident and reckless, they worked in pairs, using their superior lightness skills to strike and retreat quickly. This proved effective. Li Guanyi only possessed combat footwork; lightness skills and short bursts of attacks were the assassins’ forte.
Gradually, Li Guanyi’s body became covered in wounds, his blue clothes stained crimson.
But somehow—perhaps due to the suppressed vital energy, or the star energy he had absorbed—the stiffness in his wounds dissipated; the star energy surged again in the injured areas.
Li Guanyi didn’t feel pain, only a tingling itch. Along with the stagnation of his vital energy, he felt a primal urge to destroy.
The assassins felt a slight sense of relief. As they leaped forward again,
the seemingly sluggish youth suddenly exploded into action.
His heavy blade swung in a wide arc. The timing was impeccable, as if the assassin had deliberately presented his waist to the blade. The two opposing forces converged on the refined heavy blade, instantly cleaving the assassin in two.
The assassin’s eyes held a hint of astonishment, his final thought being:
“He anticipated our attack rhythm?”
Impossible!
The youth swept his blade, forcing back his attackers, wiped the blood from his body, and slightly raised his brow.
He smiled, echoing General Xue’s manner, “The second.”
General Xue used “second correct mark,” “third correct mark,” to unsettle Li Guanyi’s mind, and now he subconsciously used the same tactic.
The bisected assassin writhed in agony on the ground.
The youth swiftly drove his blade through the assassin’s throat.
Hand on his blade’s hilt, he calmly observed his opponents. Perhaps due to his experience in the secret realm, Li Guanyi had encountered this type of assassin before: a descendant of a splinter group of the Mohists, having fallen from the path of chivalry to become pure assassins.
All roads lead to Rome.
As the remaining three assassins seemed paralyzed by fear, Li Guanyi moved his wrist. His heavy blade spun and flew through the air. Abandoning his weapon, everyone froze. The leader felt a prickle of fear: “The spear! He’s going for the spear!!!”
Li Guanyi’s training with General Xue paid off; he immediately seized the discarded spear. With a flick of his wrist, the spearhead swept a wide arc. As the young man grasped the longer weapon, he felt a sense of relief.
This thing is much better than a blade.
No wonder the court banned them.
He charged forward, the spearhead painting a deadly arc. Subconsciously imitating General Xue’s techniques, he swept to force back his opponents, then spun, raising the spear like a blade, bringing it down with a mighty force. The move was extremely taxing, but Li Guanyi felt invigorated.
An assassin was knocked to his knees.
Li Guanyi twisted the spear’s haft, thrusting it like a drill through the assassin’s throat.
He then gripped the spear’s haft with both hands, tensing his body. The spear’s shaft flexed, the spearhead ripping open half the assassin’s neck. As the assassin fell, he enveloped two others in his attack range, forcing them back. The lower and upper limits of a long weapon were incredibly high, and in this situation where vital energy couldn’t be effectively utilized, it was unbeatable in close quarters.
A blur of motion passed before Li Guanyi’s eyes. Instinctively, he blocked it, but he couldn’t fully stop it; his shoulder shuddered as a crossbow bolt spun into his shoulder. Because he subconsciously used the Blue Wolf Guard technique, the bolt didn’t pierce him completely, only embedding itself in his flesh.
The assassin, whose throat had been slashed but was still alive, had a stunned expression.
Li Guanyi grabbed the bolt, snapping off the exposed end.
He tossed the bolt away, his eyes sweeping across his opponents.
An intimidating aura naturally emanated from him.
The leader’s heart sank, cursing under his breath.
“What thirteen-year-old youth is this?!”
“The Imperial court has misled me!”
About an incense stick’s worth of time later, the battle fell silent.
Li Guanyi was covered in blood, breathing heavily.
All five assassins lay dead.
The first was beheaded, the second cut in two, the third impaled, the fourth found an opportunity to be killed, the fifth, wearing soft armor, was killed when Li Guanyi’s spear was broken and he crashed into his arms, using his aunt’s dagger to pierce his heart.
Only the first one, whose throat had been slit, remained alive somehow.
He was also the one who fired the crossbow bolts.
Li Guanyi broke his limbs, planning to extract the information he sought.
Li Guanyi exhaled, the White Tiger and Vermillion Dragon Law Physique quietly dormant. He had many wounds. He reached out, breaking the second and third crossbow bolts, his spear snapped, the crossbow bolts hard to defend against—except for the one that had embedded itself in his shoulder.
He had also been hit in the leg and abdomen.
It could only be said that the Tie Le Third Prince’s Blue Wolf Guard technique was extremely powerful.
It actually withstood these attacks.
Though he should have been in pain, the array-breaking tune flowed swiftly. As Li Guanyi breathed, his exhalations were fiery. Once the battle ended, and his mental tension eased, the feeling of his internal energy violently surging and stagnating assaulted him. Li Guanyi lost his strength, collapsing to the ground; his meridians throbbed with pain.
He couldn’t hold it back any longer.
His vital energy began to converge again, ready to break through.
No, he had to endure; he still had a living prisoner to question about the events of ten years ago.
At that moment, a familiar figure appeared before him: Yao Guang, hooded, emerged, kneeling before Li Guanyi, placing her hand crossbow on the ground. Her silver hair brought an immediate sense of reassurance to Li Guanyi.
Yao Guang took his hand, her voice calm as flowing water: “This heart is pure, this body has seen a hundred battles.”
“You are about to enter the realm of martial arts mastery.”
“Please forgive me for not intervening earlier.”
“Don’t worry, the life star of those who left has already dimmed.”
Li Guanyi weakly pointed to the assassin with his broken limbs, “The captive…”
Yao Guang nodded quietly.
She put away her meticulously maintained hand crossbow. If Li Guanyi hadn’t won, the unique star-piercing crossbow bolts of the Eastern Continent’s Stargazing School would have instantly been fired. Her voice was calm, holding the young man’s hand, a gentle force suppressing the turmoil in his meridians. She said:
“Within the secret realm, there are arrays that can attract the vital energy of heaven and earth and the power of the stars.”
“I am here; you can rest assured.”
Li Guanyi closed his eyes, exhausted and falling into unconsciousness.
The hooded Yao Guang stood up, intending to carry Li Guanyi back.
Looking at the young man’s wounds, she decided to carry him, but that would leave marks on his feet. Traces could be covered, but his feet would hurt when he woke up.
Yao Guang calmly assessed her height, realizing that carrying Li Guanyi would mean that not only his feet, but even his calves would likely scrape the ground.
She abandoned the idea.
She leaned slightly, supporting his knees with one hand and his neck with the other, lifting him, and swiftly carried Li Guanyi back to the secret realm. Li Guanyi was strong, and as Yao Guang carried him, her body strained, her pale, ethereal face reddened from the exertion.
Her expression remained calm and emotionless. She bent down, supporting her knees, breathing heavily.
Then she changed her mind and went back.
She picked up a stick used for skewering steamed buns.
She hooked it under the assassin’s clothes and threw him into the stream, dragging him back.
The assassin’s head hit the smooth stones with a series of thuds. *Thud thud thud*.
Finally, Yao Guang ran back, using the techniques of the Stargazing School to conceal the traces of the battle.
And so, tranquility returned to the area.
Almost within a cup of tea’s time, Xue Daoyong and Yu Qianfeng arrived, their speed frantic.
Their faces were grim. Before them lay:
Only scattered corpses.
A warhorse that had died in battle.
A blood-stained heavy blade stuck in the ground, and the broken Su Ni bow.
(End of Chapter)
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