The official road leading north grew increasingly desolate and treacherous. Tran Kien—or rather, Faceless—had ridden alone for half a month straight. He did not travel swiftly; instead, he cultivated as he rode, consolidating his recently broken-through mid-stage Foundation Establishment cultivation base. The Primordial Chaos Qi within his body grew increasingly vigorous, and his nine-petaled Dao Foundation lotus became ever more corporeal.
He spent the majority of his time on the road researching the "Asura Blood Slaughter" saber manual from the Blood Hand Demon General's legacy. He did not cultivate it. Instead, he used his own Saber Intent—Hundredfold Tempered—to analyze and "temper" those wicked and vicious stances. He discarded the resentment and slaughtering intent, keeping only the absolute essence: the unpredictable and treacherous variations within each slash. Gradually, his saber art no longer possessed just an upright and unyielding nature; it gained a measure of hidden softness and unpredictability, moving closer to perfection.
Finally, after half a month of travel, a pitch-black mountain range—barren like the arched back of a colossal primordial beast—appeared in the distance. The wind howled through the peaks, echoing like the wails of ghosts, carrying the scent of dust and a faint killing intent.
This was Black Wind Ridge.
Tran Kien did not immediately advance. He found a concealed spot at the foot of the mountain and laid low for three days to observe. Like the most patient of hunters, he had to thoroughly understand his prey before striking.
He saw that the Black Wind Stronghold was situated in an incredibly perilous strategic location. It sat atop the highest peak, flanked on three sides by abyssal drops. Only a single path led up, guarded by at least three heavily fortified checkpoints. Every day, groups of bandits riding ferocious magical black wolves would descend the mountain to plunder passing merchant caravans, acting with ruthless efficiency and professionalism.
And he also laid eyes on his target.
The man was the Chieftain of the Black Wind Stronghold, a middle-aged man with a physique as massive and robust as an iron tower. He constantly wore a set of battered black battle armor and carried a massive horse-chopping saber on his back. His entire being exuded a dense, ocean-like aura of blood and killing intent. His cultivation was solidly at the mid Foundation Establishment stage.
But what caught Tran Kien's attention was not his strength. It was the extraordinary discipline and profound loneliness hidden beneath that brutal and ferocious exterior. He never drank with his subordinates, nor did he partake in their debauched revelries. He merely sat alone in silence atop the highest crag, wiping his saber, gazing toward a distant horizon.
Is this a Blood Fiend Guard? Tran Kien thought inwardly. Loyalty, discipline, and solitude. Even after becoming a bandit, the 'soul' of a soldier remains.
He knew that for a man like this, conquering him with brute force was the lowest of strategies. Even if he won, he could never make the man truly submit. He had to use another method. A method that struck directly at his single weakness, which was also his greatest strength: his loyalty to the Blood Hand Demon General.
A plan was formulated.
That night, the moon was dim and the stars were sparse.
Tran Kien did not infiltrate the mountain stronghold. He quietly approached the sole mountain path. He did not kill the sentries.
He merely used his dull black saber to carve a diagram into a massive boulder by the road.
It was not a Lac Viet array formation. It was the diagram of the "Blood Sacrifice Array," the very one he had seen on the back of the Demon General Medallion.
Once finished, he didn't linger. He quietly slipped away, finding a hiding spot in the distance. He had planted a seed. Now, he only needed to wait for it to sprout.
Early the next morning.
A patrolling sentry suddenly discovered the bizarre diagram on the boulder. He didn't understand what it was, but he felt a familiar, chilling, yin aura radiating from it. He hurriedly ran back to report.
Within the Assembly Hall of Brotherhood, the Black Wind Chieftain, Thiet Phu, was seated in the high chair. Upon hearing his subordinate's report and description of the diagram, his normally frigid face underwent a violent change.
"Are you speaking the truth?!" He shot up, grabbing the subordinate by the collar.
"T-this lowly one wouldn't dare lie to you, Boss!"
Thiet Phu said nothing more. He shoved the subordinate aside, his massive frame rushing out of the hall like a whirlwind, heading straight down the mountain.
When he laid eyes upon the Blood Sacrifice Array—a diagram he was far too familiar with—his entire body trembled violently. His tiger-like eyes turned bloodshot, not out of anger, but sheer agitation.
The Blood Sacrifice Array! This was the unpassed secret art that, in the past, only the Master and the core members of the Blood Fiend Guards knew! Why had it appeared here?
"Master..." he murmured, his voice hoarse. "Could it be... could it be that you are not dead?"
He looked around, desperately trying to find a silhouette. But only the howling mountain wind answered him.
Right at that moment, another subordinate came running up, panting heavily. "R-report, Boss! To the south... someone left an item to the south!"
Thiet Phu immediately dashed southward. There, hanging from a tree branch, was a small cloth pouch. He hurriedly tore it open.
Inside was not a letter, nor a treasure. It was a fragmented saber manual, hand-copied onto a piece of beast skin.
And when he saw the stances drawn upon it, his body violently shuddered once more.
"Asura Blood Slaughter Saber!"
This was the signature saber art of the Blood Hand Demon General! Even though it was only the first three stances, there was no mistaking it!
"Who is it?! Just who is it?!" Thiet Phu tilted his head back and roared, his voice echoing through the mountain forest. "Who dares to toy with I, Thiet Phu?!"
He was both agitated and deeply bewildered. The consecutive appearance of things known only within the internal ranks of the old Blood Fiend Guards had completely thrown his mind into chaos.
But the play was not over yet.
A third subordinate came running, this time looking absolutely terrified. "B-boss! At the... at the western stream... there's... there's a head!"
Thiet Phu felt as if his heart had been struck by a sledgehammer. He rushed toward the west.
There, by the banks of the stream, a severed human head rested neatly upon a flat rock. The blood was still fresh.
And when Thiet Phu saw the face of that head, his legs went soft, nearly giving way.
That face belonged to the skinny-faced man—one of the Enforcers of the Black Dragon Stronghold who had participated in the auction at the Myriad Treasures Pavilion!
This mysterious person not only knew the secrets of the Blood Fiend Guards, but was also helping him... seek vengeance? The Black Dragon Stronghold was one of the enemies that had participated in the siege and killing of the Blood Hand Demon General all those years ago!
Three events. Three messages.
A continuous psychological assault, calculated with extreme precision, had utterly shattered the mental defenses of this fierce tiger.
"Just who are you?" Thiet Phu knelt on one knee amidst the heavens and the earth, his voice trembling. "Please, show yourself and meet me just once!"
He no longer possessed the ferocity of a bandit chieftain. He had reverted back to a loyal Blood Fiend Guard, yearning to find his master.
From atop a distant, high crag, Tran Kien quietly observed it all. Beneath the brim of his bamboo hat, the corners of his mouth curled into a faint smile.
The fish has taken the bait.
He did not show himself immediately. He knew the fire was not yet hot enough. He needed one final spark to completely subdue this fierce tiger.
He quietly turned around, vanishing into the shadows.
Tomorrow, would be the time for the new master to officially make his appearance.