Chapter 20
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Translator: MJK
Chapter: 8.2
Chapter Title: Mi Bang
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His attainment in the Wind Thunder Sword Art had surpassed its previous boundaries.
He had pushed past the 10th stage—considered the pinnacle of mastery—and was now reaching for the 11th.
"Hmm..."
In that moment, a groan escaped the Chief Elder's lips.
The reason he had held the advantage was the superior grade of his cultivated martial art.
Now that edge was gone, the fight would only grow harder for him from here.
The clash dragged on for another half an hour.
"Ah! So that's it!"
Then, in an instant, the battle ended.
He had finally attained the 11th stage.
As if he no longer needed to swing his blade, he sheathed it.
In a duel like this, putting away one's weapon first meant conceding defeat.
Yet not a soul present believed he had lost.
-Cough... cough...
The Chief Elder was already a wretched sight, vomiting blood.
Afterward, the Protectorate became the new heart of the Mi Family Clan.
They faithfully followed the Supreme Patriarch's will, though the Patriarch himself viewed them with disdain.
When the Wang Clan incident further split their loyalties, he treated them as if they didn't exist.
"Hmph! A loach slithering beneath the dragon."
Mi Bang, too, had grown disillusioned with the Patriarch's attitude and abandoned all expectations.
Thus, ten years passed, and the Protectorate became a faction loyal to the Blade Lord.
Even he couldn't hide his shock when the Blade Lord allied with their old enemy, Evil Spirit Castle, to elevate the Wang Clan.
But with the Blade Lord's will made clear, he had no choice but to obey.
"A subjugation force... Impressive, but headless, it's worthless."
This was one solution a supreme expert like him could employ against an army.
He had plunged into the enemy lines alone, only to retreat at the unexpected arrival of another master.
"White Wolf, huh. Lives up to the name. Was he the one who ruined things in Juyang City?"
White Wolf's skills outstripped Mi Ryang's, and gathering intel from the deep mountains of Red Bear Stronghold was no easy task.
With the Mi Family's information about Juyang City under tight control, he could only speculate.
'Should've killed him...'.
The elite soldiers and mercenaries had performed beyond expectations, yet failed to finish White Wolf.
What troubled him more was how cleanly the enemy commander had withdrawn.
Facing an army deep in the mountains was worlds apart from battling one encamped at the base.
Even for someone on the cusp of the Profound Realm, it was impossible alone.
It would be like leaping into flames with dry reeds strapped to his back.
"I'd prefer to preserve Red Bear Stronghold's forces if possible... but no choice now."
He mobilized the stronghold's bandits.
"The bandits are moving? You sure you saw right?"
The general furrowed his brow at the scouts' report.
It made no sense.
Bandits were fearsome because they exploited the unique terrain of the mountains.
For them to descend and attack?
Against an army already entrenched?
Utter madness.
Naturally, his mind jumped to the reason.
"Feint East, Strike West..."
A tactic to distract the foe with noise in the east while attacking from the west.
But the scouts' follow-up reports forced him to reconsider.
"Their numbers are swelling. Over four thousand now."
At this rate, they'd likely hit five thousand in the end.
He couldn't fathom it.
"That's over eighty percent of their forces. Why pull this stunt?"
Stalling would favor them—they had self-sustaining supplies, while his army relied on vulnerable supply lines.
If the city lord pressured him for inaction, he'd have no choice but to advance anyway.
"Doesn't know strategy? Makes sense, I suppose."
Mi Family expert or not, to a general, they were just another common brute.
And most murim folk were the same.
With barely time to master martial arts, who had leisure to study warfare?
Strategy wasn't something you memorized.
It demanded grasp of heavenly timing, terrain, and human factors.
Not just weather and geography, but troop capabilities and organization too.
Mastering it required vast scholarship—feasible only for heirs of clans or sects.
The general thought no deeper.
"They think we're fools! Time they learned how wrong they are."
He began preparations to meet the bandits.
As war suddenly erupted, An Hoe watched with keen interest.
It didn't take long for him to reach a different conclusion from the general.
"A man brimming with confidence in his own power. Pulling a feint like this."
The general dismissed it as ignorance of strategy, but An Hoe saw otherwise.
Two reasons: the man was a murim warrior, and An Hoe knew Chief Protector Mi Bang well enough.
He was the type who had openly challenged the elders' authority after repeated rejections.
Arrogant to match his skill.
"Someone like that would exploit the chaos to target the general."
And if he could kill White Wolf, the thorn in his side, the subjugation force would crumble and retreat.
Failure meant massive losses, a gamble no sane commander would take without ironclad certainty.
"But a murim man? Different story."
They preferred bold tactics over half-baked strategy.
An Hoe smiled faintly.
To deal with Red Bear Stronghold, he needed to eliminate one of the two Transcendent Realm masters.
Mi Bang was the prime target.
And now the fool had stepped out, handing him the perfect chance.
"Only question is if he brought protectors. But he'll likely move alone again."
Not out of recklessness, but to check the Evil Spirit Castle experts the Blade Lord had roped in.
Their Transcendent master rivaled Mi Ryang.
Even Mi Bang's handpicked protectors needed at least five to contain him.
With so many bandits committed, he'd have no choice but to tie them down.
"Time to hunt Mi Bang?"
He was probably lurking nearby, cloaked in aura, waiting for his moment.
An Hoe decided to scan the area first.
"Nothing beats the Spirit Summoning Art for reconnaissance."
The Spirit Summoning Art borrowed the power of spirits.
Most thought it involved contracting souls of special beings or tree spirits.
But that was wrong.
It was study to touch the divine energy at the root of all things.
The souls were mere side pursuits.
True paths avoided them altogether, seeking only the primal source.
An Hoe's art followed that orthodox way.
-Splash!
He scooped earth, drenched it with excess water.
-Whoosh!
Then piled dry wood atop and lit it ablaze.
Earth, water, wood, fire.
A crude setup, but the four primal elements were assembled as the art required.
Only then did he chant the spirit tongue inwardly, tracing a spirit formation over them.
To onlookers, it would look like childish finger-wiggling in the air.
But it was no game—proven soon enough.
-Sizzle!
A strange sound emanated from the formation in empty space, warping reality itself.
An Hoe gazed into the distortion, conveying his intent.
Seconds later, it smoothed back to normal.
-Whoooosh...
A warm breeze arose, brushing past him and spreading outward.
Feeling it pass, An Hoe closed his eyes.
"...Hmm."
He immediately frowned, grimacing for good reason.
A torrent of information flooded his mind.
Positions and forms of countless humans, beasts, and more.
Eerie, yet exactly what he'd asked for.
He'd requested the spirits show every living, moving thing in the area.
Nearly nine thousand humans alone; add horses, vermin, insects, and it quadrupled at least.
An ordinary man would've lost his mind under the deluge.
But An Hoe sifted it deftly, honing in on what he sought.
Soon, eyes snapping open, he had his answer.
"Been a while since I handled the Spirit Summoning Art this crudely."
No helping it.
First time since regression, and his original art was Second Hierarchy.
This primitive version was the best he could access now.
"Still, got what I needed."
An Hoe had located Mi Bang.
As expected, hiding not far from the battlefield.
Closer than thought—he inwardly admired the man's boldness.
"One slip, and he'd have taken heavy losses."
The general's head would've rolled for sure.
But ignorance was one thing; now that he knew, surrender wasn't an option.
After a moment's thought, An Hoe stepped from his command tent.
"Time to move?"
A man's voice suddenly rose from the underbrush.
Eerie, but the real surprise followed.
-Rustle...
The foliage parted as if sliced, a dark crimson talisman crumbling to ash and vanishing into the ether.
With it, a figure emerged.
Mi Bang.
"They make damn good stuff, these freaks."
The talisman held Evil Spirit Castle sorcery, letting him infiltrate the rear undetected.
Everything was going to plan—he was sure he'd achieve all objectives.
Until someone called out.
"Meet again."
"You..."
"Surely you haven't forgotten me already?"
"White Wolf..."
Mi Bang uttered the title, and White Wolf bared his teeth with a sneer.
Not fully healed, but his internal injuries were mostly mended.
Enough for ninety percent capacity.
Not ideal, but he ignored it.
That was luck's domain.
No one performed at peak every time.
'Just give my all with what I've got.'.
-Shing!
He drew his white fang blade, steeling his resolve.
Mi Bang's face soured—not from fear, but because his plans lay in ruins.
"Hoo~. You alone?"
"Think so?"
-Snap... clack.
No sooner said, two Peak Realm experts appeared.
They too drew blades with grim determination, prompting Mi Bang to shake his head.
"This all?"
"Don't underestimate us. We'll take an arm from the Chief Protector at least."
"Hahaha."
Mi Bang laughed heartily, shaking off regret.
Plans botched, but these foes would loosen his rusty limbs nicely—their killing intent promised a satisfying fight.
"Mi Bang."
"Oh? You know my name... Wait, that Mad Sword! You're the Mad Sword?"
"Ho? You know me?"
"Damn! No wonder your swordplay's insane... The real Mad Sword!"
Since becoming Chief Protector, he'd curtailed outside activities.
But as a mere protector, he'd been wildly active.
Twenty years back, the Mad Sword moniker was legendary—no one in Hubei murim unknown to it.
White Wolf, operating in the same region, naturally recognized him.