Chapter 9
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: The Ghost's Mask (2)
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What exactly was the pinnacle?
It meant reaching the highest realm, the absolute limit of martial prowess that any warrior in the jianghu could achieve.
Was there a realm beyond that?
Some claimed there was a superior concept that transcended those limits. They called it the transcendent pinnacle or whatever, but it was about as believable as hearsay like "the Daoist who went up the mountain achieved corporeal ascension."
As far as Flying Tiger knew, that was the case.
His martial mentor—one of the only two he truly considered a master, though many had taught him—had said as much.
"Transcendent pinnacle, my ass. It's all bullshit. I've met plenty of those guys, talked with them, even sparred, and there's nothing special about them. They're just making up their own hats to pass around and look impressive."
"I see. So what happens when peak masters clash?"
"The better fighter wins. Or rather, the winner is the one who fought better."
"Ah, is that how it is?"
"That's how it is. Imagine a rabbit meticulously trained in all sorts of fancy techniques. Now this rabbit is the strongest rabbit in the world. So, if this rabbit fights the neighborhood tiger up on the hill, who wins?"
"The neighborhood tiger?"
"Yeah. Tiger."
"......"
Something felt off about the analogy, but that was just how his mentor's teachings went.
And Flying Tiger, the student below, simply accepted it and committed it to memory.
In any case, the point was to aim for the pinnacle in cultivating martial arts.
And to win fights, it wasn't just about honing your martial skills—it was even more important to become a stronger person first.
Like becoming a man who was like a tiger, or something along those lines?
The moment he heard "Ghost Face," Flying Tiger abandoned any thought of bolting right away.
If he just ran off like this, he might not get caught, but drawing attention was inevitable. Then he'd probably be treated like a buddy of Shaanxi's worst serial killer. In any case, he'd end up hounded by all the pursuers chasing Ghost Face.
Of course, with his disguise, he wouldn't get nabbed easily, but why court the storm when he could dodge it?
'Of all the bad luck, like a crow flying by just as the belly splits open. Tsk! Hide for now. Wait for the chaos to peak, then slip out quietly.'
Flying Tiger changed his mind and scanned for a nearby spot to duck into.
He chose a spot behind the annex—a dense tree stretching at least three zhang (nine meters) tall.
Whoosh.
Flying Tiger darted over stealthily and climbed the tree with such agility that if anyone passing by in the dead of night had seen him, they'd have thought it was a cat or weasel scaling the trunk.
He settled comfortably astride a sturdy branch amid the thick foliage. From there, he kept a sharp eye on his planned escape route while tuning his ears to the commotion unfolding in the manor's inner courtyard. Eyes scouting for an opening to flee, ears gauging how the uproar would play out.
The Six Jia Gate warriors were still disorganized but gradually falling into position one by one.
The problem was at the source of the chaos.
Pattering footsteps rushing about, curses and shouts, occasional screams piercing through.
From the cacophony, it was clear the Six Jia Gate warriors couldn't even properly surround Ghost Face—they were just chasing shadows in a frenzy.
'Ghost Face, huh... Not your average nimble bastard. Six Jia Gate is one of the top ten sects in Shaanxi, and he's toying with them. Probably because they lack anyone to properly command the underlings. Did the assassination succeed? But if the goal was achieved, why not flee? Why rampage like a madman? Either the target hasn't been killed yet, or tasting blood drove him insane...'
As Flying Tiger sank into thought, the ghostly wail shook the manor once more.
"Ehehehehehe~"
In that instant, Flying Tiger realized.
Like accidentally tuning into the right frequency?
The first ghostly howl had just chilled him. But this time, for some reason, he could read right down to the emotion's core.
And so he knew.
That guy was half-mad.
Half-drunk on slaughter, clearly enjoying it.
But there was also a sense of artifice.
In other words, this performance was deliberate—he was an actor wearing the mask of "Ghost Face"!
Just too immersed in the madman role, savoring the thrill.
That raised a question.
Even if Ghost Face's martial arts were formidable enough to mock the Six Jia Gate experts here.
Chang'an City was crawling with allied sects set to march out with Six Jia Gate tomorrow. Thousands of them.
Yet he was taking it easy?
Was Ghost Face the world's greatest master or something?
Or...
'He must have something to rely on. Like knowing the city's situation inside out, or backup from other accomplices... Huh?'
Flying Tiger felt a chill and mulled over his own words.
"Ghost Face isn't alone?"
Flying Tiger shuddered.
Until now, Ghost Face was known as a lone wolf.
But if the crimes were committed solo by whoever donned the mask, with accomplices...
And if those accomplices were monitoring the manor perimeter, controlling the situation as needed...
Then how long had they been watching?
...!
Flying Tiger's hackles rose as he slowly curled his body.
As naturally as possible...
Swish.
A sound so faint it wouldn't register without focus.
Flying Tiger flipped over and dropped from the tree like a monkey slipping up.
Crack. Rustle—
Twigs snapping, leaves scattering as he plummeted headfirst, he spotted the masked assailant lunging silently.
Ghost Face's accomplice!
Fierce eyes gleamed through the mask, and a bluish dagger—likely poisoned—gleamed in his black-gloved hand.
'I wasn't careless. That footwork screams trained assassin.'
Originally, Flying Tiger had planned to feign a hit from a hidden weapon to lure out the assassin and exploit his guard.
But in a glance, he changed tack. A sloppy bait would just give the enemy an opening.
Thud.
He hooked his legs on a branch to slow his fall, then whipped out his left hand, hurling the rope dart coiled around his wrist.
Whoosh.
The assassin halted mid-stride, parrying the incoming rope dart with his dagger.
Even from an unsteady angle on the fly, the foe deflected it effortlessly. He was braced for a counter.
At that moment, the branch gave way with a crack, unable to bear Flying Tiger's weight. Having already slowed enough, he somersaulted and landed lightly.
As he rose, he yanked back the rope dart with his left hand.
Whirl!
Flying Tiger faced the assassin calmly, exchanging a nod.
'Hey, shoe bastard? That was close.'
'......'
Neither wanted to kick up a fuss and draw eyes.
Both wished the other would vanish. Forever, to some far-off place of no return.
So they eyed each other warily, edging into the thick shadows amid the dense trees, maintaining distance.
The darkness was a blessing to both.
'If the blessing's equal, who wins? Of course, I already know the answer.'
In that thicket, Flying Tiger's eyes glinted blue as he launched the first strike.
Swish.
Again, the rope dart led.
The assassin dodged behind a tree, but his cheek twitched.
Whoosh.
In the dark, it might have gone unseen, but Flying Tiger's eyes caught it.
The same trick from before.
A needle-thin secret dart, the width of a finger joint, shot from the assassin's mouth. Flying Tiger stepped back and slashed like lightning.
Clang~
Sparks flew in the gloom.
Dazzling eyes, ringing ears.
Thus, Flying Tiger planted an unexpected worry in the foe: 'If he makes that much noise, it'll draw attention, right?'
Veiling his subtle moves—like yanking his left hand to manipulate the rope dart line around his wrist.
All in a split second.
The next instant.
The assassin lunged from behind the tree with a killing blow, and Flying Tiger pivoted on his retreating back foot, surging forward to meet him.
A duel to the death in one clash.
But first, the rope dart that had passed the assassin worked its magic. Coiling around a tree trunk at Flying Tiger's command, it whipped back around.
Aiming for the assassin's back.
Slash!
Caught off guard, the assassin flinched at the cold steel grazing his back. Flying Tiger's sword exploited the gap, thrusting into his chest.
Squelch.
A fatal wound.
Yet the assassin stubbornly swung his poisoned dagger. Flying Tiger calmly raised his left forearm, deflecting the stabbing hand.
Thud.
The assassin shuddered, struggling to meet Flying Tiger's eyes. They were a mere two chi (60 centimeters) apart. The sword tip protruded from his back, having pierced straight through his chest.
'Even now, his eyes don't die?'
Flying Tiger smashed his left elbow into the assassin's face.
Crunch.
The head snapped back, and belatedly, a dart fired from his mouth.
Though his aim faltered in the struggle, it was his final act of will.
Whew!
Flying Tiger sighed wearily.
The fight had been fierce enough, but what exhausted him more was the new arrivals right as it ended.
"Who's there?"
The clash had been brief, in the dark, and mostly silent.
But batting away that dart noisily had been the spark.
It sowed chaos in the enemy as intended, succeeding brilliantly—but now he paid the price.
That was why.
Several Six Jia Gate warriors were rushing over from that direction.
"Damn it! Thanks to you, slipping away quietly is fucked. Should've just let him go quietly, why poke the bear? Right?"
Flying Tiger muttered as if to himself, then whipped his head toward a spot above a nearby tree.
Twitch.
Another of Ghost Face's accomplices.
Ghost Face not being solo was shocking, but if there were accomplices, one becoming two or more wasn't surprising.
So Flying Tiger had stayed vigilant throughout the fight, spotting the suspicious presence—and now confirmed it.
Thus, his immediate foes fell into two groups.
Ghost Face's crew and Six Jia Gate.
Ghost Face's crew and Six Jia Gate were mortal enemies, grudges piling up fast even now. But truthfully, neither side were truly his enemies—Flying Tiger had no grudge and no desire to make one.
Yet he'd already tangled with one from Ghost Face's side, no backing out now. So what to do?
Flying Tiger charged toward the oncoming Six Jia Gate warriors. Pointing at the accomplice's direction, he shouted,
"Over here! Ghost Face's gang is hiding here!"