Why do I have so many masters?-Chapter 358 - 53: Provocations in a Row, Joining the Game (Additional Update)

In the Jianghu of Fufeng, quite a few things had happened over these past few days.

Two days ago, just on the day when the Immortal Pavilion’s Mysterious Armor sub-sect was recruiting external disciples, a martial artist clad in black broke into the sub-sect. Within the time it took to finish a cup of tea, he had leapt onto his horse and, with a wave of his hand, unleashed a blade wind that slashed the Mysterious Armor sub-sect’s signboard into five pieces, and then he galloped away.

The experts within the Mysterious Armor sub-sect were nearly all dead, with the Sect Leader’s head severed.

The external disciples who had just been recruited were utterly disheartened by the day’s events and all returned to their own villages.

Great Qin was pleased to see this and simply took responsibility for the incident, registering all these children and restoring their peasant status, from then on severing their ties with the Jianghu.

Since these children had just joined the sect that day, not even the Immortal Pavilion could complain, only able to grind their teeth and swallow the loss with bloodied mouths.

Above the Jianghu, thus arose many rumors, endlessly debated.

In a tavern, a martial artist wielding a long saber slammed his weapon down onto the table with a loud clash, his face flushed red with anger, and he exclaimed,

"I knew it, that man could definitely escape the Immortal Pavilion’s pursuit!"

"To kill everyone in a sub-sect within the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, he must be at least a Sixth Rank Martial Artist from the Jianghu, a master. Such masters, with their ability to travel freely through the air, come and go as they please. How easy could it be to catch one?"

Next to him, a portly man chuckled and shook his head, appearing quite at ease, and said,

"My friend, you’re not fully informed. Indeed, a Sixth Rank master is formidable, but the Immortal Pavilion is one of the top sects in the Jianghu of Fufeng."

"Not only do they have what you call Sixth Rank masters, but they also have even higher, Fifth Rank experts. They are more mystical and, when they make a move, are able to induce changes in the heavens, almost like a Half-step Immortal. How could they fail to catch him?"

The saber-wielding martial artist snorted, and said,

"Do you think that expert would just walk down the road without a care?"

"It’s not like they’re facing each other in a fight where the outcome is immediately decided. If a Sixth Rank master is determined to hide, even a Fifth Rank expert who can induce changes in the heavens, what can they do about it? Could they really predict where that master is hiding?"

The portly man’s expression faltered slightly, and he said,

"Well..."

Just then, someone nearby called out loudly,

"Come on, everyone! Before Great Qin’s arrest officers arrive, let’s quickly start a round of betting to guess how long that man in black can last, no backing out after betting!"

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"It’s time to test your judgment, folks. Good eyesight means good fortune, and you could make a nice sum!"

On both sides, people shouted loudly, with a small wooden box set up nearby. A woman raised her hand to open it, revealing a box full of dazzling silver yuanbao, quite tempting.

The surrounding martial artists had already been endlessly arguing about this issue, and now with the lure of silver coins, they went over to place their bets, still glaring angrily at each other.

The portly man walked over, hesitated as he looked over the options, and said,

"Young brother..."

The young man running the betting pool looked up with a warm smile and replied,

"What is it, old brother? Won’t you place a bet?"

The portly man glanced at the box of silver, somewhat tempted, but as he was about to speak, he caught a glimpse of a greenish gleam deep within the young man’s pupils, like an azure qilin viper moving through the grass, making that warm smile appear three parts colder. He felt a jolt in his heart and immediately shook his head vigorously, declaring with righteous indignation,

"No bet. Here in this city, there is a master of the Immortal Pavilion present."

"By opening this betting pool, aren’t you disregarding the prestigious Immortal Pavilion?!" Continue reading on novelbuddy

The martial artists present, who already had a poor view of the Immortal Pavilion’s conduct, erupted into a barrage of curses. The portly man fled from the scene in complete disarray, narrowly avoiding a beating, yet he sighed deeply with relief—his back had already become soaked with sweat.

The unusual appearance of those eyes was the manifestation of the Immortal Pavilion’s martial arts technique "Azure Qilin Technique," which one could only have upon entering the threshold of cultivation. If it hadn’t been for his experience dealing with a Ninth Rank Martial Artist from the Immortal Pavilion during his business dealings, he might not have recognized it.

Here was a martial artist from the Immortal Pavilion, at this time, in this tavern, running this kind of betting game.

This motherfucker is planning to see who holds hostility towards Immortal Pavilion, and after this thing blows over, settle the scores, huh!

The fatty couldn’t help but gasp in a breath of cold air.

How ruthless!

Shaking his head, the fatty took steps towards a distant place, only wanting to get as far from this dangerous locale as possible. However, just then, he brushed past someone. A cold and sharp chill made him involuntarily shiver, his fatty flesh trembled for a moment, and subconsciously he turned his head to look, but he only saw a tall and straight back figure.

Dressed in black vigorous attire, with a Mo Blade slung on his back.

The blade was sheathless, completely dark, with only the edge glinting a deadly white.

The fatty’s pupils instantly constricted.

Inside the tavern.

The tavern’s shopkeeper stood with his arms akimbo, allowing the martial artists to gamble freely here.

The waiters were busy going back and forth, pouring top-quality yellow wine from the cold cellar into copper wine pots, which they then placed on the stoves.

The young man opening the bets wore a warm and cordial smile.

Suddenly, someone noticed an unoccupied black betting spot and asked curiously:

"Hey, young man."

"What’s this here?"

The young man glanced over, smiling as he said:

"Oh that? It means that the martial artist not only did not run away but also dared to continue causing trouble. The odds are ten to one..."

"Would you like to give it a try, elder brother?"

The man who had asked displayed a trace of temptation on his face but then withdrew his gaze, muttering:

"Bet on this? I’m no fool..."

The young man smiled, but the icy coldness in the depths of his eyes receded slightly.

In the past few days, Immortal Pavilion’s prestige had suffered a great blow, and they were about to restore their reputation by establishing their authority.

If a martial artist dared to place this bet.

Then tomorrow, his corpse would be found outside the city.

Thinking of the orders passed down within the Sect, the young man’s thoughts drifted, and just at that moment, someone spoke up, their voice indifferent like winter ice.

"Ten to one?"

The young man was momentarily startled, chill appeared in his eyes, but his smile grew even warmer. He lifted his gaze to look, thinking to himself:

So there really are those unafraid of death...

The next moment, a chill rose from the bottom of his heart.

The smile on his face instantly stiffened.

Only at this moment did he realize, those martial artists who had been previously arguing incessantly had, without knowing when, already fallen silent, subconsciously stepping aside to make room, their expressions either filled with reverence or shock; and there were a few who carried long blades on their backs, whose pupils held a flicker of frenzy.

Amidst the steady footsteps.

One person moved forward.

Clothed in black, hair cascading down, Mo Blade on his back, his demeanor indifferent.

He looked at him and said lightly,

"Place your bet."

The young warrior’s face had unwittingly turned ashen. Hearing this, he trembled and responded instinctively,

"Yes, I don’t know how much to place..."

Amidst the rustling sound, a bag of silver was tossed onto the table, landing precisely on that bet no one dared to wager on. Wang Anfeng controlled his persona of the moment and spoke calmly,

"Ten to one."

He stepped forward, then turned around.

With his back to these martial artists, a slight relief washed over the young man’s heart, and the tension on his face unconsciously softened a fraction.

It was as if spring had arrived, and the icy chill turned to water.

Yet this scene was witnessed by none. As he stepped out of the inn, his expression was still stern and unyielding.

After Wang Anfeng left, the dead silence that had pervaded the inn was instantaneously replaced by an eruption of noisy chatter. Jianghu folks widened their eyes, debating and exclaiming amongst themselves, the atmosphere charged with excitement.

The innkeeper’s face had turned deathly pale.

The young man staggered a couple of steps and collapsed onto a chair. His heart raced, and through the seemingly celebratory noise of the martial artists inside the inn, outside one could hear the horse’s long neigh.

Then, there was the sound of horseshoes striking the cobblestones, clear and unrelenting. The noises gradually receded, followed by the din of the crowd, the cheers.

The sound of martial artists using their Qinggong to leap into the air, the dull thumps of swords and knives attached to their waists hitting against their thighs.

And their shouts.

The sound of sleeves fluttering in flight.

This mixture of noises surged unexpectedly, reaching a peak in an instant and then quieting down.

For a moment, the young man could only hear the sound of his own heartbeat and his heavy but frail breathing. His eyes widened as a surge of panic-stricken thoughts emerged in his mind, incessantly battering his fragile state of mind.

Above the stove, the yellow wine slowly lost its chill.

Not yet warmed through.

On the surface of the amber liquid, impurities that had not been filtered out quivered, resembling countless red-tailed golden carps flicking their tails, causing ripples to spread.

Deathly silence was shattered.

The young man’s expression suddenly changed.

In his ears, the sound of footsteps and the rustle of clothing returned, rolling towards him like the mighty Yangtze River, yet somehow maintaining a peculiar silence.

It was as if everything was being suppressed by some invisible force.

In the quiet, only the clear sound of horseshoes could be heard, growing nearer and clearer.

Like Rushing Thunder.

The young man’s face gradually lost its color.

Amidst the rustling noise, the tightly shut doors of the inn were pushed open directly, and with a billow of garments, the winter chill was swept inside. A young martial artist dressed in black Vigorous Attire strode in.

With a casual toss, an object landed directly in the young man’s embrace. When he focused on it, he saw a dignified and familiar face staring back at him, eyes wide with a fury that even death had not quelled!

The color drained from the young man’s face as he let out a scream, collapsing onto the ground.

Wang Anfeng reached out and drew the wooden box full of silver to himself, then turned and left. Outside stood a lean red horse. He mounted the horse and with a long neigh, was already gone from the place.

Jianghu news.

After the annihilation of the Mysterious Armor subsect.

The Immortal Pavilion’s Tian Can subsect had been destroyed once more.

In the region of Xi Dingzhou, there was only one Immortal Pavilion subsect left.

The entire Jianghu of Fufeng was ignited, countless gazes converged upon the Immortal Pavilion, ready to observe the latter’s response.

............

Atop Evergreen Mountain, within the Immortal Pavilion.

The members of the Immortal Pavilion who had planned to prepare could no longer hold back their impatience.

If they waited until after gathering intelligence to act, the Immortal Pavilion’s reputation would have already swollen from the warrior’s vicious slaps. Even if they killed him afterwards, it would be hard for them to stand their ground in the Jianghu of Fufeng.

The Pavilion Master, holding the second blood-colored silk handkerchief, stared at it for a long while.

He exhaled a deep breath, placed it on the table beside him, and said slowly,

"Great Elder, I will trouble you to lead the way this time."

"Second Elder, Third Elder, and Elder Mei, accompany him. Bring the sect’s treasured artifacts and set up the Four Symbols Poison Formation. He must be killed."

The old man sitting in the leading position stood up, bowed with his hands clasped, and said,

"I understand."

"But where should we go to wait for this scoundrel?"

The Pavilion Master’s gaze swept over the silk handkerchief beside him, his eyes narrowing slightly as he spoke slowly,

"Xi Dingzhou."

"Outside the last subsect."

...............

Xi Dingzhou City · Giant Whale Gang headquarters.

Gongsun Jing’s expression was calm as he gently wiped the blade of his lance.

Its sharpness was bone-chilling.

It was not until he had wiped it several times that he finally placed the alcohol-soaked cloth on the table beside him. Gongsun exhaled and his expression shifted subtly.

It should be about time.

The two things Wang Anfeng had mentioned to him a few days ago—the first matter had already been assigned to Lao Li San, and there shouldn’t be any issues.

The second matter...

Gongsun Jing’s eyes half-closed as he recalled what the young man had said a few days ago.

"Gongsun, would you be interested in playing a role in a little drama with me?"

Gongsun Jing’s lips curled into a slight grin, his gaze landing on a map of the Xi Dingzhou vicinity spread out on the wooden table. He raised his hand, fingers splayed, and pressed firmly on a spot just outside a county town.

This was the location of the last Immortal Pavilion subsect.

It was also where the stratagem would come together.

PS: Extra chapter, seeking support(｢･ω･)｢嘿