Zhan Zhao Adventures - Chapter One (Part I)

Chapter One: The Youthful Traveler (Part I)

The torrential rain poured down, accompanied by flashes of lightning and rolling thunder, as if treating all of creation with utter disdain, reducing the world to mere meat on a chopping block.

 

Driven by the howling gale, bean-sized raindrops pierced through the windows like sharp arrows, hammering against the roof of the mountain inn with a deafening, crackling roar.

 

In the corner of the room, several giant candles—each as thick as a child’s arm—wavered and trembled under the chilling, murderous aura brought by the storm.

 

Amidst the flickering light, the beads of sweat on Ge Yunfei’s square face gleamed in alternating shadows. The shifting glow also illuminated the glinting, swift blades held by the three men in black standing before him.

 

Ge Yunfei’s hands had turned stark white from gripping his pair of short halberds so tightly. "Friends, you refuse to show your true faces. What grievance do you hold against my Fortune Cloud Villa?"

 

"Leave your things, and you shall live." The words were bone-chillingly cold, seemingly drowning out even the roaring of the wind and rain.

 

"This item belongs to Fortune Cloud Villa and has nothing to do with you. Why do you insist on demanding it? Are you not afraid of disrupting the peace of the martial world?"

 

"Leave your things, and you shall live." It was the exact same chilling response.

 

"Who on earth are you? To dare to rob Fortune Cloud Villa by force—you are pushing us too far!" Standing beside Ge Yunfei, the stocky Zhao Dahai could no longer contain his rage. Brandishing his broadsword, he bellowed fiercely.

 

A sudden clap of thunder rolled across the sky, shaking the inn walls and sending dust and debris raining down. Almost in tandem with the thunder, a flash of blade-light erupted. Amidst the flying dust, a spray of blood erupted. Zhao Dahai’s head flew several yards through the air, prompting a collective shriek of terror from the guests cowering in the corners.

 

The head rolled across the floorboards, coming to a stop right beside a pair of exquisite deerskin boots.

 

Suddenly, a large, square dog head poked out from beside the boots. Its black nose sniffed curiously at the bloody head.

 

A sharp voice rang out instantly. "San'er! How dare you sniff that filthy thing! I'll beat you to death!"

 

The owner of the deerskin boots raised a foot and gently nudged the dog away.

 

The atmosphere in the inn had been suffocatingly grim, paralyzed by the swift blades of the three black-clad men. Now that this clear, bright voice had shattered the silence, everyone turned their eyes toward the speaker.

 

It was a youth whose dark hair was bound neatly in a topknot secured by a silk crown. He possessed a round face with a pair of large, sparkling black eyes. His thin lips clearly belonged to someone quick-witted and sharp-tongued, and when he spoke, he revealed bright white rabbit-like teeth. He wore a yellow tunic over a short jacket, with a large pearl prominently adorning his lapel. Sitting at a long table in the corner of the room, he was casually resting one leg over the other, completely at ease.

 

The large dog, sporting a coat of sleek, glossy yellow fur, remained faithfully at his side.

 

Sensing the gaze of the crowd, the youth rolled his eyes. "What is there to look at? People are fighting and killing each other over there—isn't that a much better show than me?!"

 

Sweat finally dripped from Ge Yunfei’s brow.

 

Zhao Dahai’s corpse lay right beside him, blood still pouring continuously from the severed neck.

 

A cold dread crept up Ge Yunfei’s spine. He had no idea what his chances of survival were.

 

"Leave your things, and you shall live." The three blades pressed a step closer.

 

Ge Yunfei could not help but take a step back. His subordinates retreated a step as well.

 

The youth in the yellow tunic studied the group intently. He noticed that while Ge Yunfei’s hands still desperately gripped his short halberds, he was carrying a blue-and-white floral cloth bundle on his back.

 

Whatever object the attackers desired had to be hidden inside that bundle.

 

Ge Yunfei's dozen or so subordinates held their weapons ready, advancing and retreating in an orderly formation. They were clearly seasoned fighters. Yet, strangely, amidst this circle of flashing swords and blades, there stood a child.

 

The boy appeared to be around twelve or thirteen years old, frail and thin, dressed in simple green cloth robes. His face was covered in freckles, and he was hiding behind the rest of the men. His complexion was exceptionally pale, looking almost ghostly under the dancing candlelight, which made the freckles on his face stand out even more.

 

The youth in yellow observed that the boy lacked any unique physical build that would suggest martial training; he did not look like a martial artist at all. It was a mystery why he was mixed up with the people of Fortune Cloud Villa. Though the boy's face was ordinary and unremarkable, he maintained a look of utter indifference despite being in mortal danger. This unusual calm caused the youth to look at him a few moments longer.

 

The blades moved once more.

 

Under the flash of lightning, the edges of the weapons gleamed with a deep, eerie blue. It was the distinctive blue poison of the Tang Clan of Sichuan.

 

Ge Yunfei’s face drained of color.

 

"So, so it is... I wonder, what exactly is it that you gentlemen want?" His throat had constricted with fear, and he did not even realize he was stuttering.

 

Another thunderbolt struck, followed by a low, rumbling echo.

 

Amidst the flickering candlelight, the three blades surged forward, striking at Ge Yunfei and his men.

 

There was no answer.

 

The end of negotiation was marked only by the edge of the blade.

 

A flurry of clashing metal erupted—a sound more furious and intense than the howling storm outside. In an instant, the three blue blades shattered Fortune Cloud Villa’s defensive wall of swords and sabers into splinters. Severed limbs and broken hilts flew in all directions, accompanied by agonizing screams and the heavy scent of blood.

 

The stench of iron instantly permeated every corner of the inn. Some of the guests cowering on the sidelines began to retch.

 

The frail boy was thrown back, slumping beneath a window, his clothes splattered with blood. The youth in yellow, who had previously maintained the air of a detached spectator, frowned upon seeing the brutal efficiency of the Tang Clan's slaughter.

 

Finally, Ge Yunfei realized he was the only one left standing.

 

The blue-gleaming blades remained pointed at him, sealing off his upper, middle, and lower routes, as if they had never moved from their starting positions.

 

Ge Yunfei’s eyes were bloodshot. Overwhelmed by desperation and a fierce survival instinct, his hands began to tremble violently.

 

Suddenly, with a thunderous roar, Ge Yunfei hurled his short halberds from his hands, sending them spinning in a desperate, sweeping arc.

 

This was his signature, lethal technique that had won him renown in the martial world. Throwing one's weapons meant certain death if it failed to neutralize the enemy. The sheer momentum of the attack was so ferocious that even the Tang Clan assassins dared not face it head-on. Raising their three blades together, they channeled their inner energy, causing their weapons to emit a sharp, whistling sound against the air.

 

With a deafening crash, all three blades snapped simultaneously.

 

Though the halberds' momentum was slowed by the combined inner energy of the three assassins, they did not stop, hurtling backward at a blistering speed. The left halberd flew directly toward the youth in yellow, while the other shot toward the corner where the helpless guests were hiding. The force was incredibly lethal.

 

The youth in yellow retreated like lightning. Sweeping his long sleeve, he used the momentum of the wind to deflect and catch the hilt of the flying halberd. With a sharp tearing sound, the wind generated by the weapon ripped right through his sleeve.

 

He had only managed to stop one. He could only watch helplessly as the other halberd hurtled toward the cowering crowd with unstoppable force. He wanted to save them, but it was too late. Knowing it would result in innocent casualties, he could not help but cry out in alarm.

 

At that critical juncture, a hand suddenly reached out from amidst the crowd.

 

The hand seemed to make a gentle, casual wave.

 

In the flickering candlelight, an immense, invisible warmth seemed to emanate from that single movement. However, it dissipated as quickly as it had appeared, vanishing instantly into the freezing cold of the storm.

 

The halberd was caught firmly in hand.

 

The youth in yellow stood with his mouth wide open, his rabbit teeth gleaming brightly in the shifting shadows. Who was hiding in the crowd with such extraordinary skill? And if they possessed such power, why had they stood by and watched the Tang Clan assassins slaughter the people of Fortune Cloud Villa without intervening?

 

Through the gloom, he could only faintly discern that the hand was covered by a black sleeve, suggesting the person wore dark robes. A wide bamboo hat concealed most of the stranger's face, leaving only the lips and chin visible. In the darkness of the night, even those features were a blur.

 

Before he could step forward to get a closer look, a dull thud echoed through the room.

 

Three broken blades had pierced straight through Ge Yunfei's chest.