Chapter 74: Death's Mountain, Death's Bandits

The sun blazed high in the sky.

On the wide official road, a young man in white robes walked beneath the scorching sun, a long sword strapped to his back. Oddly, there was no trace of sweat on his brow; it seemed the blazing sunlight had no effect on him.

This youth was Lu Han, who had departed from Maple Leaf City.

Because he practiced the ice-element technique "Heavenly Frost Chill," Lu Han felt no heat at all; instead, the sword on his back, the Biluo Sword, sent waves of coolness through him.

Carelessly, Lu Han pulled from his breast the map he had obtained from Qian Santong in the Treasure Pavilion.

"According to the map, we must first cross the Death-Seeking Mountain. About ten more days on foot," Lu Han muttered with a frown.

This was the shortest route; any detour would take him much farther.

Yet there was a red mark on the mountain, seemingly a sign of danger.

"Master, what do you think?" Lu Han asked, his brow furrowed.

"Boy, you already know the answer in your heart. If you detour through the surrounding cities, you'll add at least a month's journey, and I doubt you have that kind of time, do you?" The old man Ling, who had known Lu Han for some time, replied.

Lu Han promptly stored the map in the storage ring hidden in his robes.

Looking up at the sun, he said, "Ice-element techniques are truly remarkable."

Normally, September was still quite hot, and his journey would have been much slower. Occasionally, he met merchants or mercenaries on the road.

"Boy, don't waste time. This is the perfect moment to practice 'Heavenly Robe,'" Ling said, grinning.

"Ah?"

Lu Han pulled a bitter face.

Practicing "Heavenly Robe" meant being beaten; as Ling explained, it required suppressing the chill from the Biluo Sword with internal energy while simultaneously cultivating "Heavenly Robe," multitasking for greater results.

Yet the process was...

Though Ling was frail, he understood Lu Han's cultivation well enough.

Thus, a familiar scene often played out.

When the road was empty, a spectral old man would appear beside Lu Han, wielding a whip of energy to lash his body.

Lu Han constantly channeled internal force to suppress the icy aura from the Biluo Sword. The energy robe covering him—if it faltered even slightly—Ling would sense it, and the whip would strike.

After several more miles, Lu Han was no longer as relaxed as before.

Sweat poured from his brow, and he gasped for breath.

He stopped, took out a water flask from his ring, gulped down a few mouthfuls, and continued his training.

Lu Han was not reckless; he knew the dangers awaiting him on the Soul-Shattering Plains and had his own plans.

Once he achieved mastery in "Heavenly Robe," his defenses would be vastly strengthened, his physical body nearly reaching the innate realm. Combined with the energy robe, he would have little to fear even from those in the innate realm.

This was the confidence that allowed Lu Han to venture into the Soul-Shattering Plains.

Therefore, he could not afford to relax; before entering the plains, he must perfect "Heavenly Robe."

After several days, the monotonous training began to frustrate Lu Han—not because it was dull, but because his progress, though steady, was far from the expected goal. He had only practiced "Heavenly Robe" for two months, and only succeeded thanks to Ling's help. It was a high-level defensive technique of the profound rank; mastery would not come easily.

…

Holding the map and gazing at the mountain ahead, ten days on foot had brought him to the Death-Seeking Mountain.

"So this is Death-Seeking Mountain? The forest here doesn't seem special at all," Lu Han murmured.

Yet Qian Santong's map had clearly marked this place as dangerous; it shouldn't be so ordinary.

Puzzled, Lu Han entered the mountain.

Towering trees surrounded him; nothing seemed amiss.

Suddenly, Ling spoke, "Straight ahead—someone's there."

Lu Han leapt onto a branch, then quickly to another.

He hid behind a large tree, peering out.

He saw a young man surrounded by more than a dozen others.

The youth, around twenty, wore a coarse linen short jacket, his arms exposed, his body tall and sturdy.

Despite being encircled, he showed no sign of nervousness.

"Kid, you're the first not to fear us, the Death-Seeking Bandits. Look, judging by your shabby clothes, you have nothing of value. Crawl under our legs, and maybe we'll let you pass," the leader said, resting a blade on his shoulder.

"So you're the Death-Seeking Bandits? I've heard this mountain is so named because of you, ruling it as your domain," the youth replied gruffly.

"Since you know our reputation, you should know the rules. If you have no money, you pay with your life. Today, we're in a good mood—maybe we'll spare you," the bandits laughed.

Their leader rarely kept his word. Last time, someone crawled under their legs, but was killed before he even got up.

"Death-Seeking Bandits—is this the danger of Death-Seeking Mountain?" Lu Han thought, watching from behind the tree.

The dozen or so bandits were of mediocre cultivation; some had barely reached the sixth level of the post-celestial realm.

Lu Han tried to sense the youth's strength, but frowned—he couldn't detect his level.

"I was just about to visit your stronghold. Since you're here, take me there," the youth said, utterly serious.

"Haha..."

"This kid is hilarious!"

The bandits were stunned, then burst into laughter.

He wanted to go to their stronghold? The reason the Death-Seeking Bandits had survived so long was that they never provoked those they couldn't handle. The mountain was easy to defend and hard to attack; if a strong foe appeared, they would flee at once.

Now, this youth seemed unremarkable, alone, yet he demanded to visit their stronghold. Was he courting death?

Lu Han was not one to meddle, but since he had witnessed this, he felt compelled to intervene.

Just as he prepared to act, Ling stopped him.

"Boy, that youth is no ordinary person," Ling warned.

"I don't sense anything special about him," Lu Han replied, puzzled.

"Keep watching," Ling said confidently.

"Are you done laughing?" the youth barked, his demeanor shifting.

He bent low and punched the ground.

Bang!

Dust flew as the bandits recoiled.

When the dust cleared, the once-smooth earth was fractured like a spider's web.

Lu Han, watching from the tree, gasped.

That punch was on par with the full force of someone at the ninth post-celestial level.

"What is happening?"

The youth showed little internal energy fluctuation—at most, newly broken through to the ninth post-celestial level—yet his punch nearly rivaled innate power.

"Boy, nothing is impossible. The continent is full of geniuses," Ling remarked.

The youth clenched his fist and stepped forward.

With a surge of fierce energy, his fist struck the chest of a bandit, sending him flying like a cannonball into a tree, uncertain if he lived.

All happened in a blink; as the others reacted, the youth stepped forward again, attacking them.

His arms, glowing with pale yellow energy, were like two heavy hammers—anyone he struck spat blood and flew back.

Lu Han watched, swallowing hard. The youth had used no martial skills, only raw physical strength.

Lu Han knew that, without using martial skills, he could never resolve a fight so swiftly.

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