Chapter Fourteen: The Death of Iron Luo by a Single Palm

Lu Han had been recuperating here for half a month now, and the wound on his chest had almost healed. With the Xuan Shui Art circulating in his hands, he stepped forward with agile movement. His right palm glowed with a faint white light and shot out fiercely: Star-Shattering Palm.

With a thunderous crash, a tree as thick as a bowl toppled before him.

“In these past two weeks, I’ve already mastered the Star-Shattering Palm, and my wound is nearly healed. It’s time to leave. As for that old man, I don’t know what’s happened to him—he was fine just days ago, but since yesterday, he hasn’t uttered a word.” Lu Han tucked the ring into his robe, reaching for the roasted wild rabbit he hadn’t finished that morning—

“Help! Help!” A disheveled figure came running toward Lu Han. The man’s pace was slow, his voice hoarse and exhausted, and he stumbled twice as he neared, as if someone were pursuing him.

It wasn’t until the man drew close that Lu Han could make out his features. He looked to be just over twenty, dressed in a black robe smeared with dust and marked with blade cuts—a clear sign of recent fighting.

“Water… water…” the man gasped, then collapsed.

“You’re awake…” Lu Han sat beside the fire, watching as the man on the ground slowly opened his eyes. He had been unconscious for three hours.

“Brother, where am I? Did you save me?” The man sat up slowly.

“You fainted earlier. As for where this is, honestly, I don’t know either.” Lu Han shrugged helplessly. He had been trapped here for half a month, his injuries only just healed, and he was planning to set out and explore tomorrow.

“Rest for now. I’ll go add some firewood, and later I’ll roast a wild rabbit.” Lu Han walked to the fire, feeding in dry branches one by one…

At that moment, the black-robed man watched Lu Han’s back as he tended the fire, a cold glint flashing in his eyes.

“Hmph, I heard you call for an old man and thought there might be someone else, but it’s just you. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have kept up the act this long. So young, yet you dare come alone to Cloud Crystal Mountain. Let this be a lesson—but the cost will be your life,” he thought grimly.

“Careful!” Suddenly, the old man’s voice rang in Lu Han’s ear.

Lu Han reacted at once, rolling sideways on the ground. His reflexes were sharp, but not quite enough; his left arm was slashed by a knife.

“Boy, channel cold energy to your left arm and freeze it—there’s poison!” the old man’s voice urged him again.

“Why repay kindness with betrayal? I just saved your life!” Lu Han cried out, grief and anger mingling as he quietly gathered his inner strength.

“Haha… You’re far too naïve, boy. You really thought I was running for my life? I only played along out of boredom. If I hadn’t heard you shouting about some old man yesterday, do you think you’d still be alive? Hmph, I pretended to be wounded to get close. From what I’ve seen, you’re the only one living here. Hand over your palm technique now, and I’ll spare your life,” the black-robed man threatened menacingly.

“Don’t even think about it!” Lu Han replied angrily.

“Boy, you’re already a fish on my Iron Luo’s chopping block, you know that? Why do you think I’ve wasted so much time talking? My dagger’s poisoned, and by now the toxin should be spreading. Feeling numb all over? I was just stalling. Since you won’t hand it over, I’ll just take it myself!” Iron Luo slowly advanced, dagger in hand—a trick that had never failed him.

Just as he expected, Lu Han’s eyes glazed over, and he shook his head furiously, trying to stay conscious.

“Haha, accept your fate! I may only be at the sixth stage of Houtian, not much talent, but even those at the ninth stage have died by my hand,” Iron Luo boasted. It was true—he had once poisoned a ninth-stage Houtian master who underestimated him, thinking someone of the sixth stage couldn’t possibly pose a threat.

As Iron Luo’s blade neared, Lu Han suddenly sprang to life, dodged the dagger, and swept out his leg. Iron Luo reacted swiftly, blocking with his left hand and striking at Lu Han’s foot, then retreated ten paces, his left hand trembling as he hid it behind his back.

“How is this possible? My father spent five hundred thousand gold coins on this Shadowless Paralysis Powder— even a ninth-stage Houtian can’t withstand it! How are you unharmed?” Iron Luo was incredulous.

His father, Iron Kuang, had gone to great lengths to acquire this powder. Iron Luo had shown little talent since childhood, only reaching the sixth stage of Houtian at age twenty, but as his only son and chief strategist of their mercenary company, Iron Kuang spared no expense for his safety.

“We’re both at the sixth stage. You’re not necessarily stronger than me.” Iron Luo’s dagger gleamed coldly as he spun through the air, lunging at Lu Han.

With a deft sidestep, Lu Han swept his arms, pushing Iron Luo away.

Pivoting on his toe, Lu Han charged at him.

Iron Luo staggered back seven or eight steps before regaining his footing—if not for the blue stone beneath his feet, he might have fallen…

“Damn it. How could I lose to a brat? Venomous Silkworm Fist—die!” A foul, gray energy seeped from Iron Luo’s hand as he struck.

He had never practiced his father’s Xuan-class skill Iron Armor Art, choosing instead the more vicious high yellow-class Venomous Silkworm Art. Lacking in talent, he had always favored poison.

“Boy, use the Xuan Shui Art, channel your inner strength into cold energy and unleash the Star-Shattering Palm,” the old man’s voice urged quietly again.

Lu Han gathered his energy into his right hand, formed a seal with both hands, and his body accelerated sharply.

“Star-Shattering Palm!”

Boom! With a thunderous roar, their palms collided, sending a gale that scattered the fallen leaves on the ground.

Both staggered back six or seven paces.

Dust swirled in the air, blood trickled from the corners of both men’s mouths.

“Cough… I still underestimated you. But it’s over—what!” Iron Luo tried to muster his inner force, but found it frozen, unable to flow.

In all his years of cultivation, he had never encountered such a thing. Panic seized him—for a martial artist, losing access to inner strength, even briefly, was as good as death. Earlier, when Lu Han hadn’t been poisoned, he’d still felt in control, but now…

“Boy, now’s your chance!”

“Star-Shattering Palm!” heeded the old man’s reminder, Lu Han channeled all his power into his hands, pushed off with both legs, somersaulted in midair, and struck down at Iron Luo with both palms—his most powerful and final blow.

“Ah…”

Iron Luo had just regained his senses when Lu Han’s palms appeared before his eyes. He hastily crossed his arms to block.

The blow sent Iron Luo flying over ten meters with a wretched cry, sprawling face down on the ground.

His hurried defense left cracks in the bones of his hands, and he felt a chill sweep through his entire body.

Lu Han, weary and battered, slowly walked over to where Iron Luo lay.

“Don’t kill me, please! I’m the young master of the Iron Kuang Mercenary Company—my father is Iron Kuang, a third-stage Xiantian master. Our company is stationed in Bluestone Town at the foot of the mountain. If you kill me, my father will never forgive you. How about this—you let me go, and I’ll have my father compensate you with half a million—no, a million gold coins. I’ll never trouble you again, and we’ll be even,” Iron Luo pleaded desperately. He didn’t want to die—he was still young, he hadn’t made his mark in Cloud Crystal Mountain, hadn’t yet dominated Bluestone Town.

“Hm…” Lu Han pondered, touching his nose.

Iron Luo watched him, eyes narrowed with cold calculation. Once I get out of here, you’ll pay dearly.

Suddenly—

Smack!

“Spare—” Iron Luo had barely spoken when his consciousness was plunged into eternal darkness. His head lolled, and he slumped lifeless to the ground. Even in death, he never understood—Lu Han had seemed to hesitate, yet struck so suddenly and decisively.

“The old man was right—those who kill will be killed in turn. Even if I let you go, you’d never let me live.” Lu Han murmured as he gazed at Iron Luo’s corpse.

It was the first time Lu Han had killed a man, yet he felt no discomfort. Perhaps it was that battle in the Cold Abyss Forest, or perhaps killing came naturally to him as a warrior.

Announcement: The final three weeks of the Web Novel League’s preliminary round! If you haven’t joined yet, now’s your chance—grand prizes and a shot at becoming a legend await! Click here to participate.