Chapter 411: The Last Bandit (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 411: The Last Bandit (2)
Bandits?
A cascade of thoughts flooded my mind at the Dishonored Venerable’s words.
Ever since Gates of Demons began scarring the world, the bandits who once haunted the mountains and seas had found their livelihoods unsustainable. Unable to fend off the demonic incursions, most had abandoned their remote strongholds and thrown their lot in with the Unorthodox Faction.
The stubborn few who remained were systematically hunted down by the Murim Alliance, a purge that began fifteen years ago. They had been pushed to the brink of extinction.
They weren't completely gone, of course. Whispers still surfaced from time to time—sightings of them in the deepest mountains or on forgotten stretches of coast. But each time such news arose, the Alliance would dispatch a force, further thinning their already dwindled numbers.
Given all that, hearing about bandits now was genuinely surprising.
And in Sichuan territory, no less?
This is…
It must be that bastard’s group.
The moment I heard the news, I was certain.
The bandits the Dishonored Venerable mentioned could only be the very same bastard I had already marked for death upon my arrival in Sichuan. I had no doubt.
In this region, any active bandits could only be them, I thought, my breath coming a little quicker.
It would be strange if it were true, though.
The thought gave me pause. In my past life, that bastard didn't make his grand entrance onto the stage for another two years. He should have been lying low, amassing power in the shadows. For him to move now… it was peculiar.
The Green King…
My mind conjured the image of the giant known as the king of bandits. A Demonic Human who had reached the pinnacle of physical strength, his body was said to be tempered into steel. The authority bestowed upon him by the Heavenly Demon—Monstrous Strength—suited him perfectly. In our past battles, breaking through his colossal defense had been a tremendous hassle.
Maybe this is a good thing?
After securing the White Demonic Stone, this bastard was the second most important reason I had come to Sichuan. An evil Demonic Human of significant power in my previous life, he had risen to become a captain in the Heavenly Demon's army. My plan was to Demonify him, to turn his strength into a pillar of my own alliance.
If he’s choosing to reveal himself now, it certainly makes my job easier.
Yet, one worry nagged at me.
Glance.
I subtly turned my head, my eyes flicking towards where the members of the Tang Clan were gathered.
The problem is, I’m currently traveling with the Lord of the Tang Clan.
And that was a serious complication.
The Green King had earned his title from his very first appearance in the world.
The Tang Slaughterer.
He was christened with that name after hunting down and killing only members of the Tang Clan throughout Sichuan. In my past life, he flew into a rage at the very sight of anyone bearing the Tang name. His hatred for me, I later learned, was also tangled up with the Tang Clan.
He said he resented me for being the one who killed the Poison Queen.
He despised me because I had taken the kill that he believed should have been his.
At first, I found it absurd. How could such a reason hold any weight? But I eventually learned the source of his deep-seated hatred, the reason he went on his slaughtering spree.
The Green King’s real name was Tang Duk. As his name made clear, he was originally from the Tang Clan. He was a distant half-brother or cousin of the Poison King, if I remembered correctly, though I never cared much for the specifics.
The crucial point was that he was known as the failed product of the Tang Clan.
What a painfully familiar label.
Failed product of the Tang Clan. Perhaps because I had once been called a failed product of the Gu Clan, I felt a sting of recognition at the name.
I knew vaguely why he’d been branded such. The Green King possessed none of the hallmark traits of a Tang Clan martial artist. Aside from his distinctive dark green hair, nothing about him suggested his heritage. He had practically no immunity to poison and was utterly incapable of training in their Poison Arts. His giant, hulking physique was completely unsuited for an art that specialized in assassination.
The world speculated that his hatred for the Tang Clan stemmed from being cast out by his own blood. The bigger problem was that the Tang Clan never bothered to deny the rumors, almost as if they were confirming them to be true.
Anyway, this was the monster I was dealing with: Green King Tang Duk, the bandit king who harbored an all-consuming hatred for the Tang Clan.
I didn’t care about the reasons he was exiled and became a bandit. All that mattered was whether he was making a move now.
I’ll either kill him or Demonify him. There are no other options.
My past life was filled with powerful Demonic Humans, and I had already drawn up a list of which ones I would claim in this life. The Green King in Sichuan was one. The Sword Demon, who was likely grinding his sword somewhere at this very moment, was another. Those with the potential to become future problems would either be eliminated or absorbed into my fold.
That was the path I had chosen.
“…Elder.”
“Hmm?”
“What did the Dark King say about it?”
It was the Dark King who had discovered these bandits, right? Whatever that bastard’s goals were, his crew had no idea they were traveling with monsters. And the Dark King was exceptionally skilled in this particular field.
It will be a problem if he decides to wipe them out.
If the Dark King planned to simply eradicate all the bandits in the vicinity, it would complicate things for me. Opportunities like this were rare, and I needed that bandit.
As I stewed in my worries, the Dishonored Venerable smirked before responding.
“What did you think he would do?” he asked, his tone suggesting the answer should have been obvious.
“He’ll just leave them be.”
“The Dark King would do that?”
The Dishonored Venerable gave me a strange look.
“Then what, should he go find and kill them all?”
I thought that was the obvious course of action…? At least, that was my perception of the Dark King.
“Tsk, I can already tell what you’re thinking just by looking at your face.”
“…”
“I don’t know how the world sees him, but that bastard doesn’t enjoy killing all that much.”
“Seriously…?”
It was a fascinating notion. The man known as the king of assassins didn’t relish death.
“He only kills when it’s necessary.”
“…Wow.”
“Well, he does kill everything in his path if he loses control, but that’s not a problem as long as that doesn’t happen.”
“…”
He wasn’t lying, was he? I found myself glancing around nervously, half-expecting the Dark King to be listening.
…Ugh.
The mere sight of the Dark King already made me flinch, but the past month of training had made it worse. Try being killed by the same person dozens of times a day for over a month—it would make anyone sick.
There’s no answer to this training…
I racked my brains every night, but I couldn't even get close to touching the Dark King. I was starting to feel like a complete fool.
I needed a different approach, a new solution to overcome this training. The problem was, I had none, which was why I kept dying night after night.
Anyway, enough of that. Back to the bandits…
For now, we only knew they were in the area. I couldn’t be certain they had anything to do with us yet. It also seemed only the Dark King had detected them. The fact that the other Lords and I were oblivious meant they were keeping a significant distance.
I needed time to observe them, especially since they didn't seem to have any immediate intention of engaging us. Yet, ever since hearing the news from the Dishonored Venerable, a sense of unease had been churning inside me.
Noticing my conflicted emotions, the Dishonored Venerable spoke up.
“Child.”
“Yes?”
“Judging by your expression, it seems you’re planning something.”
“…”
How did he know? My eyes were closed. This old man was always impossibly sharp.
The Dishonored Venerable smiled, seeing he had caught me off guard.
“Whatever it is, make sure you don’t get caught.”
“…Understood.”
How could he say that when he didn’t even know what I was planning? He shouldn’t have known about my regression, but in moments like these, it strangely felt like he did. It also felt like he wouldn’t care even if he found out. As long as my training wasn’t affected, the Dishonored Venerable was largely indifferent to everything else. Of course, if my training was affected… that would be a different story entirely.
“Are you going to do it today?”
“Do… what?”
“Whatever you are planning.”
“…”
“You seem very concerned about it. Deal with it as soon as possible; it will affect your training.”
I inwardly gasped. Just how much could he read my mind?
The Dishonored Venerable spoke again with a smile, as if sensing my shock.
“Should I ask the bat bastard where he found them?”
“…”
It left me truly speechless. At this point, it was starting to feel scary.
Though, of course,
“Yes… I would appreciate that.”
I didn’t refuse his offer.
On a path leading into the forests of Sichuan, moonlight filtered through a dense canopy of leaves. Deep within the woods, a group of men moved with practiced silence towards a thicket.
A faint, shimmering aura surrounded them—a barrier, known to martial artists, used to muffle sound and conceal their presence.
As they advanced under this cloak,
“Ugh, fucking hell…” one of them cursed under his breath.
The man at the front whipped his head around, startled.
“You idiot, shut your mouth! Have you gone insane?”
“Ugh, brother, do we seriously have to do this…?”
“You bastard, you dare talk back? Did I give this order? It came from the boss himself!”
The leader’s angry retort silenced the complainer. They were all frustrated, slinking around like mice when they were supposed to be bandits, but none dared voice dissent against the boss’s command.
Dammit.
All they could do was complain inwardly.
“…Brother, how much farther?”
“Another day or two at this pace.”
If they used their qi, they could cover the distance in under two hours. But crawling along like this made the journey agonizingly slow.
The man cursed again upon hearing the answer.
“Sigh, for fuck’s sake.”
The leader frowned once more.
“Stop complaining. All we have to do is observe from a distance. It’s not even dangerous.”
Their orders were simple reconnaissance—to monitor the group’s route. There was no call for combat or an ambush.
“But what if we get caught? ‘Not dangerous,’ my ass.”
Yet, the mission wasn't without risk.
“You little bastard. Why do you only say things that annoy me?”
Exasperated, the leader pulled an object from his pocket and showed it to the worried man.
“I assure you, we won’t get caught as long as we have this.”
In his hand was a dark green marble, about the size of a man’s fist. It looked unremarkable, but it was a precious treasure—one that erased the presence of the holder and those nearby. The boss had claimed that not even a Fusion Realm expert would detect them while they possessed it. Combined with their sound barrier, it should have made them undetectable.
Well, that was true, unless the crew they were tracking harbored monsters of a higher level.
“We were told the strongest among them are only the Lords of the Tang and Pe Clans. Why are you so scared?”
“Even so…”
“Sigh, seriously? Just go back to the mountain if you’re that scared. But the boss will probably kill you if you do. Are you okay with that?”
“…”
“We just have to follow orders. It’ll be fine. Complain one more time, and I’ll bury you alive right here and leave.”
The leader finished angrily and turned back around. The complaining man fell silent. What could he say to a threat of being buried alive?
…For some reason, I feel nervous.
Anxiety prickled at him. They might have a powerful treasure, but they were tailing a group led by one of the most dangerous men in the Central Plains—the Poison King. If they were caught, a fate worse than death—rotting from the inside out—awaited them. How could he not worry?
I didn’t join the bandits just to die.
After a long internal struggle, he decided to speak again, ready to be scolded. However,
“Brother… I still think this is—“
Blaze—
A flash of fire erupted in the darkness.
They weren't carrying torches, needing to remain stealthy. So what was that flame?
As the man stared in confusion,
Crack—!
A sharp, snapping sound came from behind him. He spun around quickly.
“…!”
His eyes widened in shock at the sight before him.
The members of his group who had been behind him were already dead, their necks twisted at unnatural angles. One was on his knees, his mouth clamped shut by an unknown figure.
The ambusher made no attempt to hide their face. The flickering flames illuminated their features clearly.
The man frowned.
…A young brat?
He looked incredibly young.
The group’s leader had the same reaction.
“W-Who are you, bastard!” he shouted, drawing his sword and readying for a fight.
But the young man just observed them coolly, utterly unthreatened.
“Three, huh.”
“…What?”
“I suppose three is enough. Burning two alive will make the last one talk.”
After this casual remark,
Crack—!
“Ugfgh!”
The young man crushed the knee of the bandit he held captive. There wasn't a hint of hesitation.
“You bastard…!”
Enraged, the leader charged forward.
The young man didn’t move an inch.
“Brother…! Wait…!”
The nervous man tried to stop his leader, but it was too late.
The young man spoke calmly.
“I don’t have much time. I need to be back by early afternoon. Let’s finish this quickly.”
As he spoke, the leader suddenly let out a blood-curdling scream.
Something was wrong. That was the nervous man’s first, clear thought.
But that wasn't the only problem. He realized something else a moment later.
It wasn’t the Poison King he should have feared most. It was someone else entirely.