Chapter 424 - 421: Seizing the Gold Mine
Chapter 424: Chapter 421: Seizing the Gold Mine
Yuan Zhan’s head rolled across the ground. His headless body crashed down as blood gushed out like a fountain, drenching the earth.
The din of battle abruptly fell silent.
The few Netherworld Pavilion Stewards fighting the Qingxuan Sect Stewards all froze, their weapons halting mid-swing.
Their eyes fell upon the headless corpse in the black robes of an Elder. Their pupils constricted, and all color drained from their faces in an instant.
Yuan Zhan was dead.
The Late Stage of Third Grade Elder, the very backbone of their group, was dead.
Slain by the sword of a young man barely in his twenties.
"Run!"
It was impossible to tell who shouted first, but the voice was filled with unconcealable terror.
A Netherworld Pavilion Steward abruptly pulled back his weapon, turned, and fled for his life.
That one shout was like a signal, and the dam broke.
The remaining Netherworld Pavilion Stewards lost all will to fight. They forced back their opponents and scattered, fleeing madly in every direction.
The Netherworld Pavilion disciples had already been terrified. Seeing even their Stewards fleeing, they didn’t dare linger. They all pushed their Body Techniques to the absolute limit, wishing they could sprout extra legs.
"Chase!"
Propping up his injured body, Wu Zheng rose to his feet with a sharp cry and was the first to lunge at a fleeing Netherworld Pavilion Steward.
Though heavily injured, his Early Third Grade Cultivation was intact, more than enough to deal with a Fourth Grade Steward.
Fang Han said nothing. His figure simply blurred as he unleashed his Wind and Cloud Escape at full power. He became a streak of pale cyan light, shooting after the Steward who had fled the farthest.
The Steward glanced back and saw a figure in green robes closing in at a terrifying speed. Scared out of his wits, he desperately channeled his Inner Qi, pushing his speed to its absolute maximum.
Yet, in a matter of breaths, Fang Han was right behind him.
"Spa—"
The Steward had barely uttered a single word when the Cloud Splitting Sword struck.
With a flash of light, the sword pierced through his back and out his chest. His body collapsed, and his voice was cut short.
Fang Han withdrew his sword without a moment’s pause, spun, and lunged toward another fleeing Steward.
Meanwhile, Wu Zheng had also intercepted a Steward.
He struck out with both fists. Icy blue Fist Seals, radiating a bone-chilling cold, forced the Steward back again and again.
The Steward was already in a panic, unable to exert even seventy percent of his full strength. After just a few exchanges, Wu Zheng landed a fist squarely on his chest.
He flew backward, spitting blood, and was dead before he hit the ground.
The other Qingxuan Sect Stewards also intercepted their opponents. With swords and sabers flashing, they cut down the terrified Netherworld Pavilion Stewards, who were already in full retreat.
As for the Qingxuan Sect disciples, they pursued the scattered disciples of the Netherworld Pavilion.
Their morale was soaring, while the Netherworld Pavilion disciples were scared witless and had no will to fight. In moments, over a dozen of them lay dead in pools of their own blood.
Screams, pleas for mercy, and the clash of weapons rose and fell in a chaotic symphony.
Fang Han weaved through the battlefield. With every swing of his sword, another Netherworld Pavilion Steward fell dead.
He was clean and efficient, leaving no survivors.
In the time it takes an incense stick to burn, the scream of the last Netherworld Pavilion disciple was abruptly silenced.
The open ground before the mine was littered with bodies, lying scattered in every direction.
Six Netherworld Pavilion Stewards and over thirty disciples had all been slain. Not a single one escaped.
Blood soaked the ground, and the air was thick with its coppery stench. A foul wind blew, enough to make one gag.
Fang Han sheathed his sword, not even winded. The battle had been easier than expected; he hadn’t consumed much of his Inner Qi.
"True Inheritor Fang."
Wu Zheng came forward and cupped his hands in a salute, his voice holding a new solemnity it had lacked during the day.
"I was remiss earlier. I hope True Inheritor Fang will not take offense."
Unlike his earlier polite yet distant gaze, Wu Zheng’s eyes now held unconcealed shock and reverence.
He was shocked that Fang Han had broken through to the Third Grade at such a young age, and even more shocked that he had comprehended Sword Intent.
"Elder Wu, you’re being too serious."
Fang Han shook his head slightly.
"A few days ago, Yuan Zhan gravely wounded me. I thank True Inheritor Fang for killing him and avenging me."
Wu Zheng’s gaze swept over the corpses of the Netherworld Pavilion members littering the ground, finally settling on Yuan Zhan’s headless body. A flash of satisfaction crossed his eyes.
He paused, his gaze shifting in a certain direction—toward the Netherworld Pavilion’s gold mine.
"True Inheritor Fang, Yuan Zhan brought everyone he had for this attack. His mine must be practically empty."
"In my opinion, we should seize this opportunity to take the Netherworld Pavilion’s mine. What do you think, True Inheritor Fang?"
Fang Han’s eyes flickered at his words.
’Yuan Zhan brought all his elite forces to seize the Qingxuan Sect’s mine. Now that they’ve been completely wiped out, there can only be a few disciples left guarding the Netherworld Pavilion’s mine.’
’This really is the perfect time to take it.’
"Elder Wu is right."
Fang Han nodded in agreement.
"There’s no time to lose. Let’s move out now."
Seeing Fang Han agree, a flicker of delight appeared in Wu Zheng’s eyes.
He turned and called over a few disciples, ordering them to stay behind to clean up the battlefield and collect the bodies. He then chose over a dozen Steward Disciples to accompany Fang Han as they sped toward the Netherworld Pavilion’s mine.
Fang Han and Wu Zheng took the lead, darting swiftly through the forest.
The dozen or so Stewards and disciples followed close behind, rapidly approaching the Netherworld Pavilion’s mine.
They covered several miles of mountain path in what felt like moments.
The Netherworld Pavilion’s mine was built against a mountain, its perimeter enclosed by a simple palisade of thick wooden stakes, similar in layout to the Qingxuan Sect’s mine.
At the entrance, two disciples on duty were leaning against the gateposts, dozing off, completely unaware that death had come for them.
Fang Han’s figure flickered, and he appeared silently behind the two disciples.
"Wh—"
One of them sensed something amiss and snapped his eyes open. He had just cried out a single word when he felt an agonizing snap in the back of his neck, and his body went limp.
The other man didn’t even have time to make a sound before Fang Han chopped the side of his neck, breaking it as well.
The dozen or so Qingxuan Sect Steward Disciples flooded into the mine like a tide.
There were only seven or eight Netherworld Pavilion disciples left guarding the mine. Some were resting in their quarters, others watching over the work sheds. They had no time to react to the sudden assault.
A Netherworld Pavilion disciple had just rushed out of a wooden hut when he was cut down.
Another tried to flee toward the mine entrance but was intercepted by two Qingxuan Sect disciples and killed within a few moves.
In a matter of seconds, all seven or eight Netherworld Pavilion disciples had been slain. Silence fell over the mine.
Wu Zheng stood in the center of the mine with his hands clasped behind his back. His gaze swept over the newly conquered territory, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.
"Yuan Zhan, you failed to take our mine, and in the end, you lost both your life and your own. How absurd."
Fang Han hadn’t participated in hunting down the remaining disciples. His gaze swept across the mine and settled on a sturdy-looking storehouse built of green stone in the back.
He strode toward it.
The door was made of heavy, solid ironwood and secured with a massive iron lock.
Fang Han reached out, grasped the lock, and channeled a bit of his Inner Qi. With a gentle twist and a SNAP, the lock broke.
He pushed the door open and went inside.
The storeroom was dim, but even in the near-darkness, his Eye Power as a Third Grade Martial Artist allowed him to see everything inside clearly.
Stacked neatly against the wall were rows upon rows of gold bars.
Each bar was about the size of his palm, and their golden surfaces gleamed faintly in the gloom.
’There must be at least several thousand of them.’
He walked over and picked one up. It was incredibly heavy in his hand, weighing about fifty pounds.
This was smelted and purified gold, not the raw gold dust and ore from the mine. It was refined gold, ready for trade.
’Perfect,’ Fang Han murmured to himself, the corners of his mouth curling into a faint smile.
With a thought, he summoned the system panel that only he could see.
[Host: Fang Han]
[Root Bone Talent Amplification: 256x (Ninth Level Amplification requires 10,000,000 gold)]
[Swordsmanship Talent Amplification: 128x (Level 8 Amplification requires 1,000,000 gold)]
[Stepping Talent Amplification: 128x (Level 8 Amplification requires 1,000,000 gold)]
[Secret Technique Talent Amplification: 64x (Level 7 Amplification requires 100,000 gold)]
[Body Hardening Talent Amplification: 128x (Level 8 Amplification requires 1,000,000 gold)]
[Wealth: 1,000 gold]
He had previously spent a full 1,000,000 gold to activate the Ninth Level Amplification for his Root Bone Talent, causing his wealth to plummet to a mere 1,000 gold.
Now, with a huge stockpile of gold right in front of him, he certainly wasn’t going to pass it up.
’Deposit.’
In an instant, the rows of gold bars against the wall began to vanish one by one, as if erased by an invisible hand.
Within a few breaths, hundreds of gold bars had completely disappeared, leaving the storeroom empty.
The numbers on his system panel changed as well.
[Wealth: 1,000 gold → 101,000 gold]
’One hundred thousand gold.’
A look of satisfaction flashed in Fang Han’s eyes.
One hundred thousand gold was equivalent to ten million taels of silver—a truly enormous sum.
As for whether the vanished gold would arouse suspicion, he wasn’t worried.
All the Netherworld Pavilion disciples at the gold mine were dead. No one knew whether this storeroom held any gold, let alone how much.
He turned, walked out of the storeroom, and pulled the door shut behind him.
Wu Zheng was standing in the center of the mine, conferring in low tones with several Stewards. Seeing Fang Han approach, he cupped his hands in greeting.
"True Inheritor Fang, now that we’ve taken this mine, we’ll need someone to guard it."
"My injuries have yet to heal, so I must return to our own mine to recuperate. I was wondering if you, True Inheritor Fang, would be willing to stand guard here for a few days, until the Sect sends someone to take over?"
His tone was consultative, showing the utmost respect.
"I can."
Fang Han gave a slight nod.
Wu Zheng immediately assigned three Stewards and ten disciples to stay and assist Fang Han in guarding the mine. He then took the remaining men and returned to the Qingxuan Sect’s mine.
Before leaving, he offered a few final words of caution: stay vigilant and beware of retaliation from the Netherworld Pavilion.
Fang Han acknowledged his warnings.
After Wu Zheng and his party had departed, Fang Han turned and found a relatively clean stone hut within the mine, then pushed the door open and went inside.
The furnishings were spartan: a cot, a table, a chair, and nothing more.
Fang Han sat cross-legged on the cot and took an Earth Spirit Pill from his robes, placing it in his mouth.
The Elixir dissolved, and a warm stream of Medicinal Power spread through his body.
HUMMM—
He closed his eyes, and the Cyan Profound Technique began to circulate slowly.
Cyan-gold Inner Qi flowed through his meridians, absorbing and refining the Medicinal Power to replenish what he had expended in the battle.
An hour later, he slowly opened his eyes, a sharp glint flashing within them for an instant before vanishing.
Since he hadn’t used much Inner Qi, it only took an hour for him to recover to his peak condition. The cyan-gold Inner Qi surged through his meridians, vibrant and abundant.
’What an unexpected result!’
Fang Han gently exhaled a breath of foul air. Recalling his battle with Yuan Zhan, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of surprise.
’I originally thought that with my Early Third Grade Cultivation, I could at most hold my own against the Late Stage of Third Grade Yuan Zhan. I never expected that by unleashing my full power, I’d actually be able to kill him.’
’That was a result I never saw coming!’