Chapter Twenty-Four: The Mastermind Behind the Scenes?

After passing through the mountain gate, Brother Hu and his companions finally felt a sense of relief settle in their hearts. Calming their fear, they headed straight for the thatched hut where their chief usually discussed affairs. The place these bandits called home was little better than a slum compared to the Bikou Stronghold—dilapidated shacks sparsely scattered about, the scene bleak and desolate. The so-called council hall was merely a slightly larger hut, where the chief and the master usually conferred.

Brother Hu gritted his teeth and pushed open the door. The chief and the master were seated inside, deep in conversation. At the sight of Brother Hu's battered appearance, the chief’s expression darkened and he snapped, “Useless! How could you get hurt dealing with a bunch of mountain peasants?”

Before Brother Hu could even explain, the chief’s angry rebuke left his face drained of color. He quickly said, “Chief, you must stand up for us! It's not that we brothers were incompetent—there was a true expert among those villagers. Before we could even make a move, he’d already beaten us all and sent me back with a message for you…”

Here, Brother Hu hesitated, glancing fearfully at the chief, not daring to continue.

“An expert?” The master, not the chief, frowned deeply. He knew the abilities of Brother Hu and his men well; for someone to best them all in half a move, that person must also be a cultivator. For such a person to appear in these remote wilds… could it be the very one the higher-ups had sent them to seek?

With this thought, he asked, “What did this person look like? Did he give a name?”

Relieved that the master had spoken and the chief would not punish them, Brother Hu eagerly described Long Yun’s appearance. Then, indignation in his voice, he added, “Master, you must avenge us! That brat was insufferable. We even invoked your name, but he showed no respect, even insulted you outright. If we hadn’t been outmatched, we’d have fought to the death!”

The master, though knowing this was flattery, chose not to expose it. His expression remained gloomy as he said, “Xu Qing, I need you to do something. Take this jade pendant to someone for me.”

He then leaned in to whisper something in Chief Xu Qing’s ear, who soon left to carry out his task. The master turned to Brother Hu and the others, “Gather everyone. We’re going to settle scores with that brat together.”

Long Yun, who had been hoping to use the bandits to uncover the mastermind, felt a jolt of alarm. The master was clearly a shrewd man—by splitting their forces, he’d foiled Long Yun’s plan. Though there was a white-robed woman at Dai Mo’s house, she was gravely injured. Long Yun worried for her, as well as for Dai Mo and Huang Yun, who were ordinary folk. He had little choice left.

This bandit gang numbered barely thirty, all in ragged clothes, not a respectable sort among them. What Long Yun needed now was time. Without hesitation, he flipped his body and appeared directly inside the council hut.

Brother Hu and his men, having tasted Long Yun’s martial prowess before, fell silent as the grave at his sudden entrance. Now, having suffered at his unique techniques, they began to tremble all over.

“Who are you?” The master’s eyes narrowed, sizing Long Yun up, a flash of sharpness flickering in his gaze.

Long Yun smiled faintly. “You already know. I’ve no time for talk. Once I’m done with you, I’ll go deal with the one who slipped through my net.”

“Arrogant!” the master snapped, launching himself forward. With a flick of his wrist, four cold darts shot from his sleeve, and at the same instant, a gleaming longsword materialized in his hand. Twisting his wrist, he chased after the four darts, thrusting at Long Yun’s throat.

This master’s cultivation was at the Open Meridian level, which made him seem almost superhuman to ordinary men. But compared to Long Yun, he was as insignificant as an ant. Seeing the master’s ruthless intent, Long Yun felt not a shred of mercy. He formed his fingers into a sword, and a blade of sword energy three feet long surged forth, a vast aura flooding the room.

The sword aura cut through the air. Where it swept, the four darts were instantly knocked aside. The sword energy met the tip of the master’s thrusting sword with perfect precision.

A clear ring sounded, and then the brittle shatter of glass. The master’s longsword crumbled instantly into worthless scrap, scattering across the floor with a series of crisp clinks.

“Impossible—!” The master’s face went deathly pale. He had not imagined Long Yun’s cultivation could be so formidable. Hadn’t he been described as only at the Essence Gathering stage? How had he become so terrifying?

Even as he thought this, Long Yun’s figure flickered and appeared before him, the icy edge of sword energy pressed to his throat, the cold intent already seeping into his very soul.

The master’s face turned ashen; all his earlier arrogance vanished, and he trembled uncontrollably, chilled to the bone. Long Yun’s sword intent had invaded his very consciousness.

“Speak. Who is your master? Who sent you here?” Long Yun’s voice was cold as death, a force of will that chilled the heart.

The master hesitated, his gaze wavering. “Even if I tell you, you’ll kill me anyway—won’t you?”

“Enough talk!” Long Yun, seeing through his thoughts, gave a cold snort. With a swift motion, his sword flashed—giving the master no chance to repent. A head the size of a bucket flew into the air.

Blood sprayed in a mist. Around Long Yun, a subtle distortion shimmered, not a single drop staining him. Sword energy flickered at his fingertips as he strode through the blood-soaked floor, a veritable god of slaughter.

With a dull thud, Brother Hu and the others, though seasoned in banditry and accustomed to cruel deeds, had never before witnessed such ruthless methods. Their legs went weak with terror and, in their hearts, they secretly rejoiced—had they been more defiant that day, would this not have been their fate?

“Gather all the bandits. Abandon your cultivation, go down the mountain, and atone for your crimes. I give you one day. If any of you harbor rebellious thoughts, his fate will be yours.” Long Yun’s voice was cold and commanding.

With a wave of his arm, a sharp arc of sword energy shot out, striking the battered wooden door. It exploded into a cloud of splinters, the whole door reduced to dust. This was no mere shattering—any cultivator could do that. Long Yun’s strike had ground the door to powder, and combined with his earlier execution of the bandit master, his intimidation reached its peak.

Brother Hu, in particular, dared not entertain a single stray thought. In their eyes, the master had been a godlike figure—yet this youth had slain him with a single blow. If they still harbored any illusions, they must be mad.

As for giving up their martial skills, it was simple: at worst, they could return to hunting and fishing for a living. The villagers probably wouldn’t dare treat them too harshly. Better that than losing their lives for nothing.

He quickly nodded. “Rest assured, my lord. I will obey without the slightest resistance!”

Long Yun nodded. He was not worried about them reneging—their fear was real. These bandits were idle loafers from poor mountain villages, not inherently evil men, merely led astray by others.

“Remember, I will return. If I find you’ve deceived me, you’ll share his fate.” With a cold snort, Long Yun vanished, his movement art carrying him away like a gust of wind.

Brother Hu dared not move a muscle until Long Yun had been gone some time. Only then did he collapse to the ground, soaked in sweat, and faint dead away.

Meanwhile, Long Yun left the bandit lair and sped toward Chief Xu Qing’s direction. Xu Qing’s skills were merely at the Subtle Realm—far slower than Long Yun. Long Yun was confident he could catch and kill him before the warning could be delivered.

Yet Long Yun’s heart remained heavy. From the Bikou Mountain bandits to the scattered gangs in these remote villages, the influence of cultivators had clearly seeped in. What sort of dark scheme was brewing in the shadows?

Senior Brother Xiao Leng was renowned for his icy temperament, yet he harbored such hatred for the bandits, even seeking Long Yun’s help to deal with them. Could it be he knew something?

The questions swirled in Long Yun’s mind, but he shook his head and set them aside for now. Pushing his speed to the utmost, he dared not delay for a moment. If word got out, not only would he be drawn into unnecessary trouble, but even the ordinary villagers could be doomed.

After half an hour’s rapid travel, his vast spiritual sense finally detected Xu Qing’s presence ahead. A smile flickered across Long Yun’s face. With a few swift leaps, he sped toward his target.