Chapter 396 - 393: Manhunt
Chapter 396: Chapter 393: Manhunt
Chen Wanjun’s words made the atmosphere in the side hall grow tense.
Fang Han and the other two exchanged a glance, and they all saw the same emotion in each other’s eyes—fury.
The plundering of the medicinal field was bad enough, but the key issue was the murder of two Stewards, twelve disciples, and dozens of servants.
The Qingxuan Sect had been established for hundreds of years, its might renowned throughout Qingyang County. When had it ever suffered such a provocation?
"The Sect has already investigated the matter."
Chen Wanjun’s voice was low, tinged with suppressed fury.
"Those robbers are no ordinary bandits. They’re a gang of thieves that has roamed the border between Qingyang County and Donglu County for many years, calling themselves the ’Black Crow Thieves.’ They are ruthless, their movements are secretive, and they specialize in plundering the assets of major powers."
He paused before continuing.
"Previously, they operated mostly on the border and didn’t dare to venture deep into the county. For some reason, this time they actually dared to strike at our Qingxuan Sect."
"I have summoned the three of you here to ask which of you is willing to take on the mission of hunting down these robbers. The reward is one minor merit."
"Vice Hall Master Chen, I am willing to go."
Luo Yuntian was the first to speak, his voice steady yet filled with undeniable resolve.
He rose to his feet and bowed to Chen Wanjun with his hands clasped.
"I am willing to accept this mission, hunt down those robbers, and avenge my fallen sect-mates."
"I am willing to go."
Yun Muyao also stood. Her eyes, as clear as a frozen lake, now glinted with an icy light.
"I am also willing to go."
Fang Han rose as well, clasping his hands.
All three volunteered almost simultaneously.
Even without the reward of a minor merit, they would have been willing to accept this mission.
It wasn’t for the merit, nor for the resources. It was simply because—
Those were their fellow sect members.
They may not have known the Stewards and disciples who died; they may have never even crossed paths.
But they all wore the robes of the Qingxuan Sect and shared the same identity.
To bully a fellow sect member was to bully the Qingxuan Sect.
Chen Wanjun’s gaze swept across their faces, a flicker of relief in his eyes.
He didn’t make an immediate decision, instead pondering for a moment before saying slowly,
"This matter requires only one person."
The gazes of all three fell upon Chen Wanjun, awaiting his decision.
Chen Wanjun’s gaze lingered on them as if weighing his options.
’Luo Yuntian, seventh on the Celestial Pride List. His Cultivation is profound, his combat prowess formidable.’
’Yun Muyao, seventeenth on the Celestial Pride List. She has undertaken many missions and is very experienced.’
’Fang Han, fifteenth on the Celestial Pride List...’
He raised his eyes, his gaze landing on Fang Han.
"Fang Han."
Chen Wanjun said slowly.
"I am here."
Fang Han took a step forward.
"I hear you’ve cultivated a Tracking Secret Technique?"
Chen Wanjun asked.
Fang Han was taken aback for a moment, then nodded.
"Reporting to Vice Hall Master Chen, I have indeed cultivated a Tracking Secret Technique called the Spirit Smelling Technique. I have now reached the stage of Great Success."
Great Success.
As those two words reached their ears, a strange look flashed in the eyes of both Luo Yuntian and Yun Muyao.
Tracking Secret Techniques were extremely risky; a single mistake could easily lead to permanent disability. As such, very few Martial Artists in the Sect cultivated them.
And among those few, it was even rarer to find someone who could cultivate a Middle Grade Tracking Secret Technique to the stage of Great Success.
"Good."
Chen Wanjun nodded slightly, a look of satisfaction in his eyes.
"Then I will entrust this matter to you."
He paused before continuing,
"The robbers committed the crime and fled two days ago. They likely have some means of concealment, so ordinary Tracking methods will probably be ineffective. Since your Tracking Secret Technique is at the Great Success stage, you are the most suitable person for this task."
"I obey."
Fang Han replied with clasped hands.
Chen Wanjun stood, walked over to Fang Han, and took a palm-sized Token from his sleeve, handing it to him.
The Token was a dark cyan color, forged from some special material. The front was engraved with the archaic character for "Xuan," while the back featured a pattern of clouds.
"This is an urgent Sect order. With this Token, you can mobilize the power of Government Offices and post stations along your route. You can also commandeer personnel from our Qingxuan Sect’s properties in any city within the county."
Chen Wanjun’s voice was grave.
"For those robbers to have roamed the border of two counties for so many years without being wiped out, they must have some extraordinary skills. You must not be careless."
"I understand."
Fang Han accepted the Token with both hands and put it away carefully.
Chen Wanjun then looked toward Luo Yuntian and Yun Muyao, his voice deep.
"Fang Han is the most suitable for this mission, so it is entrusted to him."
"Yes."
Luo Yuntian and Yun Muyao exchanged a look and clasped their hands in unison.
Chen Wanjun nodded slightly, his gaze falling on Fang Han once more.
"Go. In an hour, more than twenty elite disciples will be waiting for you at the sect gate to accompany you."
"Yes."
Fang Han bowed, then turned and strode out of the side hall.
Behind him, the gazes of Luo Yuntian and Yun Muyao followed Fang Han’s back, their expressions holding a lingering trace of surprise.
Not only had his strength improved so rapidly, but Fang Han had also managed to cultivate a Middle Grade Tracking Secret Technique to the stage of Great Success.
Fang Han had exceeded their expectations time and time again.
—
「An hour later, in the plaza before the Qingxuan Sect’s main gate.」
Over twenty figures stood in solemn formation.
All were elites of the Sect, their auras steady and their gazes sharp.
Several of them were True Disciples who ranked in the top thirty of the overall list.
Fang Han’s figure emerged from the sect gate, his green robe stirring, the Cloud Splitting Sword at his waist.
His gaze swept over the twenty-some disciples, and he gave a slight nod.
"Let’s move out."
There were no unnecessary pleasantries, no rousing speech.
Just three words.
But when those three words reached the ears of the twenty-some disciples, their spirits soared.
They all knew exactly what this mission entailed.
WHOOSH WHOOSH WHOOSH—
Over twenty figures simultaneously activated their Body Techniques, shooting off like arrows loosed from a bow and disappearing into the twilight at the end of the main road.
—
「One day later, as dusk fell.」
Fang Han and his party appeared amidst a stretch of rolling mountains.
They were now hundreds of miles from the Qingxuan Sect, in a remote and sparsely populated region.
In the distance, a relatively flat mountain hollow came into view.
Within the hollow, the faint outlines of collapsed buildings were visible, their shattered walls and ruins looking especially desolate in the twilight.
This was the North Mountain medicinal field.
The Earth Vein Qi here was abundant, making it suitable for growing precious medicinal ingredients, which was why the Qingxuan Sect had developed it for that purpose.
"We’re here."
A disciple who had been to the North Mountain medicinal field before spoke in a low voice filled with suppressed fury.
Fang Han nodded slightly. With a flicker of movement, he was the first to dart toward the ruins.
The twenty-some disciples followed close behind.
The moment they stepped into the hollow, the thick stench of blood assaulted them.
Even though three days had passed, exposed to the wind and sun, the stench of blood had not fully dissipated. It still hung heavy in the air above the ruins.
Fang Han’s gaze swept across the area.
Collapsed wooden huts, shattered tiles, and a medicinal field trampled into a complete mess.
The medicinal herbs in the field had long been plundered, leaving only a few crushed stems and withered leaves that trembled in the wind.
But the most infuriating sight was the bodies.
Two bodies, clad in Steward’s Robes, lay at the edge of the medicinal field.
Twelve bodies, wearing Disciple’s Robes, were scattered throughout the ruins.
Dozens of servant disciples’ bodies lay strewn about in front of the buildings where they had once lived.
Some stared with wide, furious eyes. Others had faces twisted in agony. Some were even dismembered.
The blood had long since dried, turning into dark crusts that clung to the ground, the broken walls, and the faces of those who would never wake again.
Fang Han stopped in his tracks.
His gaze passed over the bodies, one by one.
He didn’t recognize a single face.
But the fury and resentment frozen on their faces were like sharp blades, piercing his heart.
Behind him, the breathing of the twenty-some disciples grew heavy.
Some clenched their fists, their knuckles turning white with strain.
Some gritted their teeth, their jaws clenched tight.
Others lowered their heads, unable to look any longer.
The air was thick with a silence that was heavy and suffocating.
After a moment, Fang Han spoke. His voice was low, yet it carried clearly to everyone’s ears.
"Collect the bodies."
His voice was calm, but beneath that calm lay a volcano on the verge of eruption.
"Yes."
The twenty-some disciples replied in unison.
No one said another word. They quickly spread out and began collecting the bodies scattered around the area.
Their movements were gentle, yet heavy with grief.
One disciple knelt before the body of a young man, reaching out with a trembling hand to close his wide-open eyes.
Another gently lifted a dismembered body, laid it on a flat patch of ground, and covered the unrecognizable face with a piece of scavenged cloth.
Another stood by the bodies of the servant disciples, motionless for a long time.
Fang Han did not join them.
He stood in the center of the ruins, his Spirit Smelling Technique operating at full power, at the stage of Great Success.
HUMMM—
In that instant, the world around him transformed into an incredibly complex yet clearly layered sea of scents.
The stench of blood, the reek of rot, the residual fragrance of herbs from the trampled field, the earthy smell of disturbed soil—
Countless scents flooded his senses.
He filtered out these useless distractions, his mind highly focused, concentrating all his effort on capturing the culprits’ scents.
The robbers had stayed here for a considerable amount of time—killing, plundering, and looting. The scent they left behind should have been extremely strong.
However, while the culprits’ scents were present in the air, they were extremely faint.
Even after three days of wind and sun, the scents should not have faded to this extent.
Just as Vice Hall Master Chen had surmised, these robbers possessed an exceptionally clever method for concealing their scents.
’As long as I can capture the scent, it’s enough!’
A cold light shone in Fang Han’s eyes.
’No wonder these robbers have been able to roam the border between two counties for so many years without being wiped out. They really do have some skills.’
’Not only did they flee immediately after the crime, but they also used some technique to eliminate and cover the scents they left behind.’
’If my Spirit Smelling Technique hadn’t reached the stage of Great Success, I probably wouldn’t have been able to capture even this faint trace.’
’But now that I’ve caught their scent, they can forget about escaping.’
He called everyone over. His voice was low, but it invigorated their spirits.
"The robbers fled to the northeast. Judging by the scents, there are more than thirty of them. Three of the scents are especially strong; they should be Fourth-Grade Martial Artists."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the twenty-some disciples.
"Five of you will stay behind to watch over the bodies and the medicinal field. The rest of you, with me. We’re giving chase."
"Yes, sir!"
The twenty-some disciples replied in unison.
Quickly, five disciples were chosen to stay behind and guard the bodies and the ruins.
The remaining fifteen or so disciples followed Fang Han, their figures flickering before disappearing into the twilight-shrouded mountain forest.