Chapter Thirty-Two: A Battle of Life and Death

“Master, can you tell me what this really is now?” The two of them had left the trading street and were heading toward the original headquarters of the Iron Tiger Mercenary Corps. Although Zheng Qi had merged the two groups, their base remained where the Iron Rage Mercenary Corps had been.

“Kid Han, to be honest, I don’t know either. Just now, I unintentionally let my soul force seep into it and was instantly frozen. This gray page is no ordinary thing,” the old man Ling’s voice sounded in his mind.

“That’s it?” Lu Han toyed with the gray page, even giving it a hard tug, but sensed nothing unusual.

“If people hadn’t discovered anything special about it after all these years, do you think you’d find something right away? Why else do you think he gave it to you?” Old Ling retorted, dashing his hopes.

“Alright, put it away and study it later. We’re here now.”

Lu Han arrived at the Iron Tiger Mercenary Corps’ base. Before him stretched an empty field about a hundred meters across, surrounded by bronze firs, and in the center stood a large flag emblazoned with the words: Iron Tiger Mercenary Corps.

“Who goes there?” Before he could reach the entrance, two mercenaries blocked his path.

“Would you kindly inform Commander Zheng that an old acquaintance from Cloud Crystal Mountain has come to visit?” Lu Han smiled politely.

These two had been stationed at the base and hadn’t participated in the manhunt, so they didn’t recognize Lu Han.

“You wait here, I’ll go notify the commander.” Hearing that the visitor was an old acquaintance of the commander, Ma Shan’s attitude softened. An old friend of the commander was not someone he could afford to offend.

“Commander, there’s someone outside who says he’s an old friend from Cloud Crystal Mountain,” he reported respectfully after entering.

Zheng Qi had been troubled these past days, still unable to capture Lu Han. Was Lu Han planning to hide inside forever?

“What old friend? I don’t want to see him!” Zheng Qi waved impatiently. He was already in a foul mood and had no interest in meeting old acquaintances.

“Wait, what did you say? An old friend from Cloud Crystal Mountain?” Zheng Qi frowned, uncertain if he’d heard correctly.

The messenger was called back before he’d even stepped outside.

“That’s what he said.”

“Tell me exactly what happened,” Zheng Qi demanded.

The mercenary recounted Lu Han’s appearance and words.

As soon as he finished, Zheng Qi slapped his chair, seized his spear, and rushed out, calling, “Gather the brothers, follow me!”

Just from the description, Zheng Qi knew it could only be Lu Han.

“Lu Han, even if you beg me now, I won’t let you go!” Zheng Qi muttered through gritted teeth. Iron Rage had been his benefactor and had saved his life more than once; he would have his revenge.

Lu Han was resting against the flagpole in the center of the grounds when he saw Zheng Qi approaching the gate with spear in hand, murderous intent obvious.

“Surround him!” At Zheng Qi’s command, dozens of men swiftly formed a circle.

“Lu Han, I really couldn’t have caught you if you kept hiding, but you’ve delivered yourself to me.” Zheng Qi’s eyes blazed with killing intent as he glared at Lu Han. “Are you here to beg for mercy? Cut off one of your arms, hand over what you took from the cave, and maybe I’ll consider it.” There was mockery in Zheng Qi’s tone. He was now the butcher, and Lu Han the lamb. As for letting Lu Han go—impossible.

“Commander Zheng, you’re mistaken. I never asked you to spare me. That Iron Luo tried to kill me and I ended him—he brought it on himself. As for your Iron Rage and Li Hu, they suffered the consequences of their own actions.” Lu Han’s words were not without reason. Iron Rage and Li Hu had died because they failed the trial in the cave, bringing the collapse upon themselves—two innate experts dying in such a humiliating fashion.

“You must have used some trick! Otherwise how could the cave have collapsed?” Zheng Qi’s eyes reddened at Lu Han’s words.

“Commander Zheng, I’m not here to argue about right or wrong. Today, I challenge you to a battle to the death! Do you dare?” Lu Han pointed at Zheng Qi.

“A battle to the death? Are you mad, or did I mishear you?” Zheng Qi was taken aback. He himself was at the peak of the ninth postnatal level, on the verge of stepping into the innate realm.

On the Skyvault Continent, when people had irreconcilable enmities, they would sometimes choose a death match—life and death decided, with no interference allowed.

Of course, if the challenger’s cultivation was higher than yours, you could refuse and no one would mock you; but if the challenger’s was lower, you could not refuse—unless you wanted to be shamed forever.

Few would dare challenge someone of higher cultivation; it was rare on the Skyvault Continent.

In truth, Lu Han had no choice but to propose a death match. To leave Bluestone Town, he had to resolve the Iron Tiger Mercenary Corps problem. The town’s exit was guarded by the former Flying Tiger Mercenary Corps; sneaking out was impossible.

A death match meant facing only Zheng Qi, instead of the entire group.

Lu Han harbored another thought: if things truly turned dire, he still had his master.

That was his ultimate trump card.

“That’s right. The only question is, will Commander Zheng accept?” Lu Han gazed at Zheng Qi, a hint of provocation in his eyes.

“What a joke! Brothers, stand back.” Zheng Qi was infuriated by Lu Han’s casual tone, as if he cared nothing for him. He was the leader of the most powerful force in Bluestone Town—arguably the number one man—yet this youngster, not even of age, dared look down on him.

“Lu Han, I have to admit, I’m starting to respect you. Challenging a peak ninth-level expert while you’re only at the seventh. If I didn’t have to kill you, I’d almost regret it.” Zheng Qi caressed his spear.

The two men stood dozens of meters apart in the open ground. In a death match, no one else was permitted to interfere—a rule as old as time.

Lu Han slowly drew his Bi Luo sword.

As the blade left its sheath, the air around him grew markedly colder.

Zheng Qi glanced at the sword in Lu Han’s hand.

“A fine sword! I didn’t notice he had a sword before. Did he find it in the cave? No matter—after today, it’ll be mine!” Greed flashed in Zheng Qi’s eyes as he stared at the Bi Luo sword, unable to hide his covetousness.

A gentle breeze lifted Lu Han’s long hair.

With a flick of his wrist, Lu Han brandished the Bi Luo sword, his foot stomping the ground as he charged toward Zheng Qi.

Zheng Qi met his charge head-on, spear tip poised.

Blades clashed against spear with a shower of sparks.

Feeling the pressure transmitted through the spear, Lu Han thought, “So this is the power of the peak ninth postnatal level?” He was forced back several steps before regaining his footing.

Zheng Qi, too, was somewhat shocked. He had used seventy percent of his strength, thinking it would be enough to bring Lu Han down, but the youth had only retreated a few steps. At the instant their weapons met, he had sensed a chill through his hands.

Lu Han stared at Zheng Qi, the “Heavenly Frost Chill” technique surging within him, a faint veil forming over his body—imperceptible unless scrutinized closely.

Zheng Qi couldn’t pinpoint the difference, but something about Lu Han seemed changed.

“Again!” Lu Han charged once more.

The sound of clashing weapons rang out across the open ground as they exchanged dozens of blows in an instant.

Lu Han was sent skidding back several more steps.

Shaking out his numb arms, Lu Han mused, “No wonder he dared accept my challenge; he’s got some real skill.”

Seeing the mercenaries whispering among themselves, Zheng Qi’s face began to flush with embarrassment. He was a peak ninth-level expert, yet still hadn’t taken down Lu Han, who was only at the seventh.

“Boy, this ends now!”