Chapter Twenty-Six: The First Battle with a Martial Artist

“Who are you? Why have you slaughtered my brothers in the mountain stronghold?”

The man in the white robe stared intently at Hu San, his iron ruler trembling slightly in his grasp. Though he appeared calm on the surface, his back was drenched in cold sweat. Had he not reacted swiftly, had his inner energy not recently advanced from the second to the third stage, his head would have surely been severed just now.

The youth before him seemed young, yet his strength was immense and his movements mysterious, impossible to guard against. Even he, caught off guard for a moment, had nearly lost his life.

“This is the territory of Wolf Fang Mountain. I am one of its people—do you need me to explain why I kill those who threaten my brothers?”

Hu San gripped his long blade tightly, his face expressionless, though inwardly he felt a pang of regret. He had almost managed to take the head of this skilled opponent, but just missed—his strike blocked at the last moment by the iron ruler.

What shocked Hu San most was the force transmitted through the iron ruler—a mighty vibration mixed with immense strength, so powerful that even his own formidable force nearly lost control of his blade.

Yet, in his assessment, the opponent’s strength, though great, did not surpass his own, nor could it truly disarm him. After much thought, Hu San could only attribute it to the man’s inner energy.

Clearly, the man was a martial artist—and a powerful one at that.

Hu San did not know that martial artists are set apart from ordinary men by certain absolute advantages—not just speed, power, and reaction, but the innate force of vibration within their inner energy. If the opponent were not a martial artist, however strong he might be, he could never resist such force.

This was the true power of martial artists. In essence, inner energy is a transcendent force, a tier above mere physical strength, and thus possesses these unique qualities.

The fact that Hu San’s blade was not knocked away was partly due to his own power, but most fundamentally because he too possessed inner energy, albeit not even at the first stage.

“Well, Wolf Fang Mountain’s territory? Such arrogance! Since when does your stronghold claim dominion here? Boy, you’ve reached this level at a young age—if you surrender now, perhaps I can spare your life.”

The shock in his heart gradually faded, and the confidence of the white-robed man returned. He could tell that the youth before him, though gifted and strong as an ox, was unfamiliar with inner energy—not a true martial artist.

If not a martial artist, then he was no match—a timeless rule passed down for generations.

“Do you think I’d believe you? Enough talk. Your men are here; let’s fight!”

Hu San was wary of the white-robed man’s martial prowess, but he felt no true fear. With his current abilities, if he wished to flee, none here could stop him.

“Humph! Attack!”

Without further words, the white-robed man waved his hand, and a dozen bandits closed in. He himself refrained from joining the fray; since the opponent was no martial artist, these bandits would suffice.

Yet swiftly, the white-robed man regretted his decision.

Hu San’s Fish Step might not stand out in single combat, but in this melee, he moved as effortlessly as a fish in water. Surrounded by flashing blades and cold steel, Hu San was not constrained—instead, his attacks grew fiercer.

The bandits, wary of friendly fire, lost their momentum. Unlike trained soldiers, their coordination was full of flaws—wielding weapons of mismatched lengths, they had no chance to cooperate.

One bandit swung his long blade, missing Hu San; the slash continued toward another bandit behind him, who was thrusting his sword at Hu San. Seeing this, he dared not continue his attack.

As curses flew from their mouths, both bandits hastily withdrew their strikes, leaving themselves wide open.

A flash of silver from Hu San’s blade opened thin gashes across their necks; blood sprayed, and they collapsed, convulsing to death.

In mere moments, most of the dozen bandits had fallen, the majority slain with a single blow; the rest were grievously wounded, unlikely to survive.

Those who remained dared not approach, blustering from the sidelines, leaving Hu San to face the pale-faced white-robed man.

At this point, no words were needed. The white-robed man hefted his iron ruler, engraved with a giant bear, and charged.

His body moved with agility, the iron ruler pulsing with a humming sound. Amidst the chill, the carved white bear seemed to come alive, leaping with imposing force straight at Hu San.

“Let’s see how formidable these martial artists truly are!”

A glint flashed in Hu San’s eyes. He drew a deep breath, stood his ground, and stepped forward, wielding his blade to unleash his signature technique, the Straight-Line Slash.

The shouting bandits saw only a flash of white, sparks flying, and heard a sharp clang. When they looked again, Hu San’s blade had been knocked high into the air, and he himself had staggered two steps back, blood trickling from his lips.

“Excellent swordplay, impressive physique—but without inner energy, you’re still an insect. Die, boy!”

Surprise flickered in the white-robed man’s eyes. His intent had been to crush Hu San’s defenses and shatter his skull, but the youth’s technique was cunning and his strength formidable, forcing him to change tactics, merely disarming the blade.

With that, the white-robed man stepped forward once more, aiming another strike at Hu San.

But Hu San twisted his foot, and the iron ruler’s sure blow struck only empty air. Turning quickly, Hu San snatched his blade from midair.

Taking a deep breath, steadying his turbulent blood, he flipped his blade and shouted, “Again!”

He charged forward, this time not engaging head-on, but fully integrating his Straight-Line Slash with the Fish Step.

Within the whirling snowflake-like light, the white-robed man found himself trapped—his inner energy useless, growing frustrated.

“Perish!”

After a moment, worn down by relentless attacks, the white-robed man slipped, leaving a gap in his defense. Hu San struck his iron ruler with the hilt, sending pain surging through his organs.

Now, the white-robed man began to regard Hu San as an equal, and in shock and fury, spun his iron ruler, unleashing a jet-black glow.

To Hu San’s eyes, the iron ruler, previously unable to keep pace with his blade, now seemed to swell, and shadows appeared, transforming the ruler into a giant iron fan.

The white-robed man’s eyes turned blood-red, steam rising from his head, his energy at its peak.

Clang! Crack!

The iron ruler, which once could not block Hu San’s strikes, now intercepted them with ease. No matter how Hu San changed his attacks, he could not escape the ruler’s entanglement; their weapons clashed repeatedly.

But this time, it was not so simple. Hu San felt a rush of heat from the iron ruler, coursing rapidly into his body.

In that instant, his muscles convulsed painfully—so intense that, if not for his iron will, he might have fainted then and there.

Fortunately, his inner energy surged through his meridians, granting him a moment to breathe, though he could no longer hold back a mouthful of blood.

He was thrown back several steps, rolling across the ground like a rubber ball.

If the warm current had not vanished suddenly into his chest’s central acupoint, the blow might have been fatal.

“So powerful!”

Hu San silently praised his opponent. Under the white-robed man’s astonished gaze, he rolled up from the grass and vanished into the depths of the forest without a backward glance.

From the white-robed man’s perspective, Hu San’s speed now matched his own at full sprint. To catch him, he would have to maintain full energy at all times.

But that was impossible. After their intense battle, the man’s true energy was depleted by over thirty percent. If he pursued without rest, he would not get far, and the Wolf Fang Mountain base lay ahead.

“Damn it, you got away!”

He spat fiercely, hesitated, and watched as Hu San disappeared like a fish, realizing he could not catch him and abandoning the chase.

“Wolf Fang Mountain is truly formidable. If their trainees are this elite, things are getting serious. Zhong Hai is useless—he inherited the boss’s manual, and after all this time, hasn’t sent a single message.”

Massaging his aching brow, the white-robed man shouted at the few surviving bandits, “A bunch of useless fools! You couldn’t even stop a kid. Before he reports back to Wolf Fang Mountain, we must continue our reconnaissance and uncover everything about their training camp.”

He had no idea that their spy, Zhong Hai—the bandit surnamed Zhong slain by Hu San—was already buried underground, perhaps decaying as they spoke.

Thus, the origins of Zhong’s martial manual were clear—it most likely came from the white-robed man’s faction, and their information on the training camp probably began with Zhong.

As for why half the manual ended up in Longbow Zhang’s hands, that remained a mystery. Perhaps Zhong sought to bribe Zhang, or Zhang discovered Zhong’s secret. Either way, that was another story.

On the other side of the valley, atop a tall tree, Hu San clutched his chest, gasping for breath.

The white-robed man’s blow had been severe; even with his current physique, Hu San felt pain in his chest. An ordinary person would have been killed outright.

“What a formidable martial artist. Compared to raw strength, it seems inner energy is the true king. But I wonder, what is the power of immortals compared to inner energy?”

He sighed in admiration. Seeing no pursuers, his thoughts turned to the inner energy that had suddenly vanished.

He focused his true energy, guiding it toward the central acupoint in his chest.

Suddenly, Hu San felt the world spin. As his spirit and inner energy entered the acupoint, his consciousness was transported to a strange place.

A boundless purple realm surrounded him, empty of all things. The true energy he had cultivated appeared as a small blue droplet, floating in this vast space.

When Hu San withdrew his consciousness and examined his body, he found all the inner energy in his meridians had vanished—gone without a trace.

With a thought, the central acupoint warmed, and inner energy surged forth, resuming its flow along its usual path.