Sichuan's Mad Dragon (Novel) - Chapter 164 - Green Forest King

Chapter 164 – Green Forest King

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Translated by Heavenly Cat
Edited by Celestial Knight

Read it only at Novelbyu.com & Utoon.net

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Chapter 164 – Green Forest King

The Man-Carving Artisan became a single streak of shadow and charged toward one of the closing torches.

A martial artist from Guizhou opened his mouth wide, about to shout something, but The Man-Carving Artisan was far faster and more lethal than he anticipated. The moment the spike embedded in his lung, only a futile hissing sound escaped; The Man-Carving Artisan immediately swung the hammer in his right hand and smashed the man’s skull. It happened in the blink of an eye. Launching the spike from a distance made a tremendous noise, but that wasn’t his only method.

He followed the torches.

-Crack!

One martial artist’s eyes rolled back and he crumpled from the hastily thrown hammer. The Man-Carving Artisan climbed a tree, and just as another martial artist discovered his comrade’s body and was about to shout, he dropped down from above.

-Squelch!

The spike drove straight into the crown of his head, killing him instantly.

‘At this rate, breaking through the encirclement is only a matter of time. Fools. Did they think they could catch an assassin in the dim night, in a forest at that?’

He moved toward the next torch. A stationary red torch flickering in the distance. The Man-Carving Artisan didn’t hesitate… he immediately threw his spike.

-Thwap!

He’d aimed precisely at the head of the torch-holder, but there was no sound of skull cracking.

‘What?’

Just as The Man-Carving Artisan wondered, there was a rustle, and something fell over.

-Jingle-jingle-jingle…!

The bells attached to it kept ringing loudly.

“Damn it!”

What had fallen was a scarecrow. When the torch the scarecrow had been holding hit the ground, the surroundings brightened.

The Man-Carving Artisan spotted the thin red thread attached to the scarecrow.

And the bells strung on that red thread.

Those bells rang maddeningly loud in the dead-quiet night.

-Rustle-rustle!

Seeing the torches instantly converging on his position, The Man-Carving Artisan smiled bizarrely and shouted.

“That’s right, come! I’ll carve every last one of your bones and flesh!”

“That won’t happen.”

With a heavy, gloomy voice, a large hook shot from between the trees. The Man-Carving Artisan snorted and swung his hammer to knock it away.

-Clang!

“A mere acrobat with tricks! Bring your Mad Dragon leader before I might even consider it!”

Despite the insulting words, the only reply was another hook strike.

-Shwick… !

This time from a different direction.

The Man-Carving Artisan stood in a dim clearing while hooks kept flying at him from outside.

‘How is the direction changing so quickly?’

Even using extreme lightness arts while throwing hooks, this speed would be difficult.

-Swish, thunk!

The Man-Carving Artisan only understood the secret of this technique when he caught the faint clicking sounds.

‘He’s using the trees!’

Throwing hooks at trees to catch the chains on their trunks.

Then using the tree trunks as pivots and centrifugal force to target him.

Such weapons with no fixed form were called soft weapons.

Naturally difficult to handle, they required long years to master. And this one wielded not one but eight such soft weapons. Added to that was his skillful use of terrain.

‘Damn it, he’s no pushover!’

Thinking about it, of course not. Would the Blood Flower Crone’s son be an easy mark?

The Man-Carving Artisan broke into a cold sweat as he deflected hooks, finally pinpointing Eight-Hook Ghost’s location through energy sensing.

But not yet… it wasn’t time.

The Man-Carving Artisan waited. For the moment when Eight-Hook Ghost used all eight hooks to target him.

-Whoosh!

Six, seven, and finally eight.

The Man-Carving Artisan dodged six with footwork and allowed only the two from unavoidable angles to embed in his body.

Pain pierced through him, but he ignored it.

Now it was his turn. He had to act before Eight-Hook Ghost could yank back and tear out his muscles.

“You… !”

The Man-Carving Artisan bellowed and floated two black iron spikes simultaneously, striking them in what seemed like a single motion.

-Ka-clang!

Sparks flew brilliantly, and the black iron spikes shot toward Eight-Hook Ghost like a viper’s fangs.

“Damn!”

Eight-Hook Ghost hadn’t expected such a fierce counterattack… he released all eight hooks and retreated. With the chains still caught on trees, he had no other choice.

-Schwick!

Even though it just grazed him, the black iron spike tore through Eight-Hook Ghost’s left shoulder as it passed. The arm was completely ruined. Eight-Hook Ghost grimaced and uncoiled the whip he’d been wearing like a belt.

The upper echelons of the Crimson Spider Sect were mostly skilled with soft weapons. Exceptions included Yi Pyo-eum, who had difficulty using her legs properly, and Yang So-an, whose blindness made soft weapon training particularly challenging.

There was no soft weapon the Blood Flower Crone’s second son couldn’t handle.

Eight-Hook Ghost flicked his wrist lightly, cracking the blood-red whip. It was made of multiple strands of Human-Faced Spider silk… Human-Faced Spider Thread… twisted together, a gift from his adoptive mother when he’d first broken through to the peak realm.

-Boom!

The sound of air bursting was murderous. The Man-Carving Artisan dodged the whip, but feeling his cheek flutter like cloth, he charged forward.

“Die… !”

The Man-Carving Artisan raised his spike with a venom-filled voice.

Just then…

-Shwaaa!

A silver point flew toward him, and The Man-Carving Artisan had no choice but to swing his hammer to knock it away.

-Claaang!

Sparks flew from the hammer, and The Man-Carving Artisan stared at the crushed hammer head in disbelief.

“A hammer made of black iron…?”

That’s when it happened.

-Flutter-flutter!

Five silver butterflies flew through the trees, wings beating as they chased after him.

-Ka-ka-ka-ka-clang!

The Man-Carving Artisan held spike in one hand and hammer in the other, swinging wildly to knock away all the butterflies. But the creatures didn’t crumple… they hovered in mid-air as if alive and targeted him again.

Only after swinging both weapons once more to knock away the butterflies did the Soul-Chasing Phantom Butterflies lose their charged internal energy and fall to the ground.

But The Man-Carving Artisan had already lost control of the fight.

-Crack!

Eight-Hook Ghost’s whip tore into The Man-Carving Artisan’s thigh. Before he could even scream in pain, Ju-seong’s form burst out and unleashed palm force.

“Here it is, you annoying bastard!”

-Boom…!

Blood-red firelight erupted in the nighttime forest. The Man-Carving Artisan’s front was blasted open as he flew through the air.

The dozens of black iron spikes hidden in his clothes traced arcs through the air alongside him.

-Thud, clatter, thunk!

The precious hidden weapons made of black iron clanged heavily as they rolled across the ground.

Ju-seong stepped forward with arms hanging loose, his face cold as ice.

“How was it, The Man-Carving Artisan? The spiderweb we wove.”

The Man-Carving Artisan laughed emptily and replied.

“Fucking irritating.”

* * *

A hut hidden in the mist. A man sat cross-legged, immersed in meditation.

His half-bare upper body gleamed bronze, crossed by pale scars.

His wavy hair hung down in curls, and his features were strong-lined, slightly different from people of the Central Plains.

Truly the bloodline of the Zhuang tribe, without a single drop of Han blood.

Inheriting the combative temperament of his ancestors, his eyebrows soared as if piercing the heavens. Over that imposing frame lay sleek yet powerful muscles.

A body that displayed extreme training, as if looking at a thoroughbred horse. From outside the hut where he sat cross-legged, someone’s voice came.

“Brother, they’ve sent another head.”

The man answered quietly without even opening his eyes.

“Bury it.”

“Yes, Brother.”

-Creak.

The sound of grinding teeth came from beneath the man’s lips.

“Just a little longer.”

The man focused on his breathing exercise while suppressing his fury towards the unidentified forces that had suddenly attacked Guangxi Province. Normally, being overwhelmed this helplessly would be unthinkable… after all, who was he? He was the master of all Green Forest bandits across the Central Plains, the King of countless mountains, and practically a lord of Guangxi Province. “Green Forest Battle King, Jang Sa-hyeok,” that’s what the world called him. The masters under his command were countless, and among those who assisted him were some who had surpassed the peak realm to reach the level of Three Flowers Gathering at the Crown. But as the saying goes, he had trusted an axe only to have it chop his foot: those very people had betrayed him, and in the most terrible way possible. He sighed quietly; Jang Sa-hyeok himself was still in his mid-forties, the prime of life for a martial artist, but what about the top masters who assisted him? Many had served his family since his father’s or even his grandfather’s time. And then there were those who whispered in their ears: “Black Merchants, and the Ten Thousand Ears Gang.” They whispered to the aged masters of the Green Forest that a great war would soon break out in jianghu. It was a strategy to rot the foundation from the bottom up. Without his knowledge, the Green Forest’s top masters had been fed that damned Vital Blood Pill. He later heard it was made by grinding up people, but when they consumed it multiple times, they began suffering from strange ailments and dying because trace amounts of poison had been put in each dose. Moreover, different poisons were given to each person, making it impossible to identify the cause. Thus, the heart of the Green Forest was easily conquered. There was even an incident where an old master, threatened with the antidote, attempted to assassinate him. “Hyeok-ah, I’m sorry. I must have been briefly mad. I’ve told you everything I know, so please kill me now,” were the last words of the old man he’d revered as an uncle, kneeling before him. His body was already rotting away, and there was no way to save him, so Jang Sa-hyeok snapped his neck to end his suffering. It happened just as massive forces were assaulting the Green Forest’s fortress. Immediately after the fortress fell, that large-scale force had retreated and spread across Guangxi Province to exploit the common folk, leaving only a handful of masters behind to target him. “Damn it, on top of everything, I was attacked by that spirit creature… the Yin-Yang Serpent.” It was a rare spirit creature with one white head and one black; a two-headed snake that exhaled cold from its black head and fire poison from its white. In terms of size, it could be called a python or even an aquatic dragon, but its distinctly triangular viper heads gave it its name. That creature had originally been managed, or rather worshipped, by the Green Forest. He’d been hit by its fierce fire poison after fleeing his enemies. Normally, someone evaluated as infinitely close to the Ten Greats Under Heaven wouldn’t fall to a mere snake, but he had been gravely wounded just days before by his uncle’s assassination attempt. The tail smashing his boat without warning, the venomous fangs rising from beneath the surface, and a body too wounded to control… evil upon evil, he’d allowed this terrible poison to strike. A normal person would have died instantly, but he clung to life. The creature was practically the dragon of this damned lake. Even the pursuers couldn’t set foot inside the lake, where visibility was poor and a terrifying venomous creature harbored. Instead, they were hunting down the Green Forest remnants and sending him their heads as if telling him to come out. “Yes, I’ll come out soon,” he muttered. “I’ll come out and tear every last one of you apart.” Beneath his jet-black eyebrows, a dark-green ghostly light blazed.