Chapter Fifteen: Fortune Smiles

Han Shuo understood clearly in his heart that Eric was now undoubtedly closing in on him swiftly with sword in hand, intending to kill him as he had just slain Dillon. Han Shuo could sense the sinister aura drawing nearer from behind.

For the first time in his life, Han Shuo forced himself to focus all his attention. Perhaps due to the effects of his demonic cultivation, not only had his body become exceptionally agile, but even his courage had grown considerably. Otherwise, given his former temperament, his heart would have been seized by terror with no room for further thought.

In this perilous moment, the demonic essence within Han Shuo surged with unprecedented speed. As he ran, he felt inexhaustible strength welling up inside him. Coupled with his intimate familiarity with the terrain, he darted left and right through the labyrinthine paths, managing to shake off Eric and put some distance between them.

A startled exclamation escaped Eric. He hadn’t expected Han Shuo to run so fast, nor for his evasive maneuvers to be so cunning. Seeing Han Shuo about to vanish from sight, Eric’s expression darkened. The sword in his hand flared with deep blue-green light as he sharply flicked several large rocks into the air, blocking Han Shuo’s path.

Han Shuo continued running, feeling exhilarated by his escape. Sensing Eric’s aura growing more distant, a surge of relief and joy washed over him for having survived such a deadly trial.

But in the next instant, the sound of something tearing through the air erupted. Han Shuo felt several heavy blows strike his legs. His knees buckled, and in the midst of his sprint, he crashed to the ground, face-first into the dirt, sprawled out in a humiliating heap.

“Sorry, kid,” Eric called out with a hint of apology. He flicked his sword, and a ball of deep blue-green light burst forth, whirling toward Han Shuo with lethal intent.

Han Shuo’s mind was clearer than ever before, his demonic energy raging within him. Though his legs were freshly wracked with pain, in the face of mortal danger, he pressed his hands and feet into the ground and threw himself to the side with all his might.

A metallic screech rang out. The deep blue-green light from Eric’s sword struck the spot where Han Shuo had just been. The hardened earth split into a dozen crisscrossing crevices, as if a chessboard had been gouged into the ground, each groove several inches deep. Had Han Shuo still been there, he would have been torn to shreds.

“I swear I saw nothing! Please don’t kill me!” Han Shuo, having narrowly escaped death, stared in horror at the ruined earth where he’d lain moments before. Voice trembling, he pleaded desperately as he scrambled to his feet, ready to run again.

“You’re a nimble one, kid, despite your size,” Eric replied with a helpless shrug and a rueful smile. “But unfortunately, you saw something you shouldn’t have, so I’m afraid I have to kill you.”

With that, he flicked his sword again. Several rocks, each the size of a human head, shot toward Han Shuo, who dodged frantically in terror. As Han Shuo weaved and darted, Eric suddenly appeared behind him without a sound. The tip of his sword glowed, and another ball of deep blue-green light plunged into Han Shuo’s body.

In an instant, Han Shuo was sent flying, crashing face-first into the earth once more. Agonizing pain seared through his back as his demonic energy surged to the wound, desperately enveloping the deadly blue-green energy that had invaded his body.

Eric let out a breath, murmuring to himself, “Strange, I seem to have lost some of my battle energy. Must be fatigue. Anyway, this kid was fast, but at least it’s over now.”

Han Shuo, intending to make another dash for freedom, overheard Eric’s muttering. The effects on his body were identical to what he’d experienced when Claude had struck him with battle energy, except this time, Eric’s blue-green force was even more potent. Han Shuo’s own demonic energy could not fully contain it, leaving his back a ghastly, bloody mess.

Realizing this, Han Shuo held his breath and feigned death, lying motionless on the ground. Meanwhile, his little skeleton companion, sensing his peril, seemed ready to come to his aid. But perhaps due to the pain, Han Shuo’s mental focus sharpened to a razor’s edge, and he managed to send a split-second command, ordering the skeleton to stay put.

The little skeleton’s grave was some distance from Duke. If it emerged and came to Han Shuo’s aid, it would surely be noticed. Though Han Shuo didn’t know Duke’s exact magical strength, he was certain from Duke’s earlier actions that he was formidable. He had no wish to see his skeleton companion perish needlessly.

Eric, after catching his breath and muttering a few more words, grabbed Han Shuo by the collar and dragged him to the mouth of a ruined grave. Without so much as checking whether Han Shuo was truly dead, he tossed him in, confident that a blow from a high-ranking swordsman would be fatal to a mere menial servant.

After disposing of Han Shuo, Eric did not linger, but retraced his steps and soon disappeared from the area.

Wracked with pain, Han Shuo cursed Eric and Duke’s entire families in his heart, but dared not move from the grave. Only after nearly an hour had passed did he, gritting his teeth against the pain, slowly climb out.

He reached up to touch his back, feeling the sticky wetness of blood. Glancing at his bloodied hand, he silently vowed revenge, determined to repay this grievance one day. Grimacing, he cautiously made his way back, ever wary that his attackers might still be near.

When he returned to the scene, he found that even Dillon’s corpse was gone—evidently thrown into a nearby grave as well. Calling his little skeleton from its hiding place, Han Shuo grumbled as they left together, cursing his ill luck and resolving not to practice in this area again for some days.

After walking some distance, Han Shuo suddenly stopped and stared at the ground. He remembered that earlier, during Dillon’s flight, the man had fallen here and hastily buried a gray pouch beneath his feet. Duke and Eric, after all, had been searching Dillon for something—could it have been this pouch?

With a crooked grin, Han Shuo crouched and carefully dug into the soft earth, unearthing the gray pouch. It felt heavy in his hand, and when shaken, emitted a crisp, metallic jingle. The pouch was far finer in quality than anything he owned. Pulling the drawstring open, Han Shuo reached in and drew out several silver and copper coins.

“I’ve struck it rich!” Han Shuo muttered gleefully. He knew these coins were the currency of this world. Bryan, the body’s previous owner, had served as a menial for years without ever seeing so much as a single copper coin. Staring at the precious coins in his palm, Han Shuo laughed aloud, the pain in his back momentarily forgotten.

He emptied the pouch, and a palm-sized, dark green jade box fell out. The box was heavy and cool to the touch, and had a keyhole-like indentation. Beside it lay a matching green key.

But Han Shuo’s attention was fixed elsewhere—his eyes gleamed with delight as he stared at the coins, murmuring, “I’m rich, I’m rich!” The pouch contained three gold coins, twelve silver coins, and fifty-six copper coins. With one gold coin worth a hundred silver, and one silver worth a hundred copper, this small fortune would last Han Shuo a year or two, even with his recently improved diet.

Bryan had been sold to the Babylon Academy of Magic for only five gold coins. This windfall was already worth half a man’s life.

Overjoyed, Han Shuo stowed the money away with a grin. Then, his eyes fell on the dark green jade box and key. Frowning thoughtfully, he recalled the fine attire of Duke and Eric—especially Duke’s magical robe and staff, both of which must have been worth a fortune. For men of their status, this amount of money was nothing; they would hardly kill for it, let alone silence a witness.

Could it be that they sought what was inside the jade box?

With this thought, Han Shuo’s gaze settled on the box, which glimmered faintly under the moonlight with an almost unnoticeable green radiance—an enchanting, otherworldly beauty.

As he stared at it, his mental focus grew acute, and he suddenly sensed a chilling aura emanating from within the box, as though it sought to seep into his very bones. Han Shuo shivered involuntarily and snapped his eyes shut.

There was something sinister about this object.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Han Shuo glanced nervously around, then hastily returned the jade box and key to the gray pouch. With unsteady steps, he made his way back to the supply shed.

Once there, he did not investigate the jade box further, nor did he touch the money. Trembling slightly, he hid the pouch under his bed and had the little skeleton help clean and bandage his back before collapsing into a deep, exhausted sleep.