Chapter Ten: The Night Fiend Strikes the Four Seas

Late at night, with much to attend to.

The Four Seas Martial Hall.

Wu Sihai sat reading Daoist scriptures, seeking within their lines a glimpse of the true essence of martial arts. He was the master of the Four Seas Martial Hall. The martial arts practiced nowadays could not surpass the limits of vitality. The Blood River Blade technique, passed down from his father by chance, was incomplete, with only four moves remaining. Yet, even with these four moves, one could elevate their vitality to the ninth level. If only he possessed the full Blood River Blade technique, he would surely break through and step into the true gates of martial arts.

Studying Daoist texts deepened his knowledge, granting him a profound understanding of the great way of heaven and earth and all things. This, in turn, would allow his Blood River Blade technique to progress further.

Under the night’s curtain, the once bustling Changsheng Street had fallen silent. Wu Sihai read by lamplight, not merely for himself, but with the hope of cultivating even stronger disciples. He had six disciples, all devoted and talented—the hope and future of the Four Seas lineage. His eldest disciple had traveled the martial world and recently sent word; he had reached the ninth level of vitality, the rank of a martial master. Joining an ancient sect of martial heritage, his breakthrough and transformation seemed imminent.

Until one reached the bone-refinement stage, one remained ordinary. The bones could not bear the strain of advanced martial training. Only by refining the bones could one glimpse the true gate of martial arts.

Whatever fate awaited his eldest disciple, the Four Seas Martial Hall would take pride.

“Who’s there?”

With the scripture open, Wu Sihai abruptly raised his head, anxiety welling within him. His blood surged, sensing danger from the outside world. He stood, eyes sharp as lightning, seizing the broadsword hung upon the wall.

Clang—

He drew the blade, face grave, staring towards the door.

Silence.

A silence so deep it was terrifying—unnaturally so. The insects had ceased their song. Even the wind seemed to have stopped.

Wu Sihai felt a chill in his bones; his surging vitality could not dispel the coldness that gripped his body. Threads of fear crept into his heart.

He feared not for his own life. Years of deadly encounters had tempered his resolve. But within the Four Seas Martial Hall were his family and some apprentices, orphans he had taken in, letting them earn a living tending to chores.

Yet now, his keen senses could not pick up the snores of his apprentices. An ominous feeling surged in his chest.

A cold draught entered the room. The candle extinguished.

Darkness fell. Though his eyes could see in the night, now they saw nothing—no outline, no shapes. He could not even sense the world beyond.

Wu Sihai knew well that tonight the moon was bright. Even with the candle extinguished, moonlight should suffice for sight.

He gripped his blade tightly, clearing his mind of distractions, forcing himself into a state of calm.

With his seasoned experience, Wu Sihai understood he was facing a demon—a supernatural being. Such eerie scenes he had only heard of in stories. Now, he would become the protagonist of such a tale.

He remained calm, standing quietly. There was nothing to see, nothing to hear. The only thing he could do was stay composed and let his senses guide him.

“Mighty river rolls, vitality shines like the sun.”

Wu Sihai moved.

The fourth move of the Blood River Blade.

Five streams of vitality erupted within him, scorching and fierce as the midday sun, bold and relentless as a river, sweeping through his study.

A blood-curdling scream echoed.

“Demon, surrender your life!”

Wu Sihai rooted himself, burning his inner vitality.

The waters of the Four Seas surged, flooding into a river. This river was like a sea of blood.

The blood river formed a blade, forging his vitality into a cutting edge. Using his vitality to flood the surroundings, he sensed the chilling presence of the demonic creature, as cold and deep as an abyss.

Fearless of death, he burned his life with a resolve to die, unleashing a blow beyond his own limits.

This strike, like a scorching sun of blood, burned and scattered the darkness, cleaving fiercely at the demon whose outline alone was visible.

Clang—

The blow erupted with the greatest force Wu Sihai had ever summoned in his life.

Yet it struck the demon’s copper-like skin and iron bones with a metallic ring.

A wound, shining with uncanny red light, appeared on the demon’s body.

A flash of delight crossed Wu Sihai’s face.

He had wounded the demon.

Suddenly, pain tore through his chest.

The demon’s hand pierced his chest, seized his heart, and ripped it out.

“Demons are invincible.”

“If you train martial arts with me, even if you’re no match for the demon, as a martial master, you’ll at least outrun ordinary folk.”

“That’s why you mustn’t neglect the foundational stance training—it’s the root of the Four Seas Fist, the base of all martial arts.”

Scenes of him instructing his disciples flashed through his mind. When encountering demons, never be reckless—escape at once.

But Wu Sihai himself was the worst at heeding his own advice.

The shadowy demon tossed Wu Sihai’s heart into its mouth, chewing it a few times.

“Old blood is weak.”

“Compared to the young, the quality of this ingredient is far inferior.”

“Four families remain. Don’t disappoint me.”

Leaping away, wherever it passed, all around fell into absolute shadow.

No light pierced through.

The shadow moved, as if the darkness itself was shifting.

“Master!”

Lu Jingxian crashed through the door into the room.

“Get out!”

A pillow flew at him, striking Lu Jingxian. He glanced, hurriedly lowered his head, and retreated.

Yet the scene seemed to take root in his mind.

Fair, delicate skin pinned beneath a grotesque, fat corpse.

Half a quarter hour later, Zhang Jingzhong emerged with a sullen face.

Lu Jingxian, who had barged in again and again into his home, had already violated his greatest taboo.

The servants in his house were useless, letting anyone intrude at will.

“So frantic—what is it now?”

Zhang Jingzhong glared fiercely at Lu Jingxian. If he failed to give a proper explanation, he would surely die today.

Lu Jingxian kept his head down, sweat streaming from his brow.

“Master, there’s been a heart-gouging case on Changsheng Street. Suspected demon involvement. I’ve investigated the martial halls involved, and the clues match those you ordered me to look for regarding Madam Zhang’s murder.”

Zhang Jingzhong’s eyes widened in delight.

“Is it true?!”

Lu Jingxian didn’t understand.

“It’s absolutely true.”

“Good, very good. This time, Zhang Fu, no one can save him.”

Zhang Jingzhong laughed heartily.

As for the heart-gouging case, demon involvement made it unrelated to him. But it gave him a chance to claim credit before the Demon Suppression Bureau.

“Come, let’s go see Master Zheng Yishan now.”

Zhang Jingzhong squinted, smiling broadly. His earlier displeasure already forgotten.

“Master, I’ve received word that last night, Zhang Fu took his whole family and boarded an ocean vessel, escaping overseas.”

Lu Jingxian thought a moment and spoke quietly.

“I’ve heard the Canal Guild is also searching for him. He took all the wealth accumulated in Dongbin City by the Canal Guild, and Zhang Fu purchased steam-powered iron ships from overseas. The Canal Guild’s usual ships can’t catch up with his.”

“Does Zhang Fu really think that fleeing overseas means no one can find him?”

Zhang Jingzhong’s face turned ashen.

Though he spoke stubbornly, if Zhang Fu truly went into hiding, whether by the Demon Suppression Bureau or the Canal Guild, it would be hard to find him.

“Steam-powered iron ships are rare overseas, and many Western nations secretly forbid their sale to the Great Yuan.”

“Zhang Fu is clearly no ordinary man; he’s even more hidden than we imagined.”

This was not one achievement, but two major ones.

“What? The Four Seas Martial Hall was slaughtered?!”

Baili Feihong entered the tavern for tea, listening to gossip, and stood up abruptly in agitation.

“Six martial halls on Changsheng Street were massacred by demons—over a hundred dead!”