The disciples moved as one. They needed no discussion. Whatever was happening to King Hao, they needed to stop it.

He’d been so close to death, but now his qi surged anew, aided by whatever power he had called upon. And it was another power, not his own. That much He Yu could see even without the aid of the Peerless Judgment.

Attacks from all three of them landed within the space of a single heartbeat. He Yu’s guandao scored a deep gouge in the bandit’s armor, rending metal and flesh alike. Li Heng activated that new technique of his, and Yan Shirong unleashed yet another barrage of throwing knives.

King Hao continued to roar his anger to the heavens as he flailed. His movements had become less coordinated, his swings going wide and hitting nothing. Whatever power had flooded into him ebbed, and the sense of his presence—that of a now-crumbling fortress—returned to what it had been before he called for aid.

The disciples continued to press him. As they scored hit after hit, his movements became increasingly disjointed. He lurched like a poorly controlled puppet rather than a dangerous fighter, and each step became more of a stumble than the last. Dozens of throwing knives poked out from holes torn in his armor by jian and guandao both. At some point, he’d lost grip of the mace, and now what passed for his attacks were merely listless swings of his arms.

Finally, King Hao pitched forward, his spirit guttering out at last. The bandit hit the ground and was still. He Yu blinked.

“That’s it?” he asked.

Li Heng joined him at the fallen bandit’s side and sent his jian back into his storage treasure. “We have spent the past months training under an old master,” he ventured, but He Yu could hear the disbelief lurking between his words.

“A fitting end for trash such as him,” Yan Shirong said.

He Yu wasn’t quite so certain. Whatever power the bandit had called upon had faded too quickly for his tastes. Although he could find no trace of that power left in the bandit that now lay dead at their feet—even through the Peerless Judgment’s ability to see the truth of things—some instinct told him that all was not as it appeared.

“It just seems too easy,” he muttered. Whatever feeling that things weren’t what they seemed finally gave way. All the other things he’d pushed to the edge of his thoughts for the sake of the battle rose to the surface.

The lingering rage at the senseless suffering wrought at the hands of King Hao and his men during the months He Yu had been training. The terror of that first bandit, a boy no older than he was, frozen as he stared up at his end. The hollow feeling in his gut that hadn’t faded with King Hao’s death.

The arrival of a new presence tore He Yu from his thoughts. He immediately recognized Zhang Lifen’s approach and pressed a fist into his palm in salute. Although her arrival was sudden and unannounced, he wasn’t surprised. Of course she’d show up.

“Good work Junior Brothers,” she said with a slight smile. She stood with her hands folded before her and tucked inside the sleeves of her gown.

“How long have you been watching?” He Yu asked, ignoring the choking sound that came from Yan Shirong.

“Long enough,” she said airily. “Quite the show you all put on. It seems your time with Old Guo was productive. I hadn’t imagined things would go this well for you when I sent you away from the sect, but I’m certainly not one to spit on good fortune. Now, let’s collect our spoils.”

The three of them fell in beside Zhang Lifen as she drifted over to a hut that was still relatively intact near the center of the former camp.

“Our spoils?” He Yu asked. He figured he could always ask about how she knew of Old Guo later. It wouldn’t have surprised him if meeting him had been a part of her plan all along.

“I did have reasons besides your personal development for sending you here,” she said.

“Figures,” Yan Shirong muttered.

Zhang Lifen cast an amused look over her shoulder and arched an eyebrow at him. “Afraid I’ll take the larger share of the loot, Junior Brother Yan?”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“No, of course not, Senior Sister,” he answered over a hasty bow.

“She’s just teasing you,” He Yu said.

“You shouldn’t have told him just yet,” Li Heng said. Despite his insistence on formality around Princess Tan, he’d heard enough about Zhang Lifen that he’d gotten a feel for her sense of humor.

“I agree with Junior Brother Li,” Zhang Lifen said with a smirk. “Wait until I leave before you make such accusations, next time.”

He Yu simply scowled at his mentor’s back as they entered the hut together. The building was a poorly made shack, but it was large enough for its intended purpose. It served as a sort of depot for the camp, with sacks of rice, jars of wine, and other miscellaneous foodstuffs stacked against one wall. Against the other was the various riches that the bandits had collected. Zhang Lifen went straight to the loot and spent a moment rummaging around before she held up a finely made jade pendant.

“Ah, here we go,” she said, admiring the piece of jewelry.

He Yu activated the Peerless Judgment. The pendant appeared utterly mundane. “Is it some treasure?” he ventured.

“Oh no,” she said. “I just think it’s pretty and wanted it for myself.” The pendant vanished into her storage treasure.

“You sent us here just for a mundane piece of jewelry?” he asked. He couldn’t quite make up his mind as to how he wanted her to answer.

“Not just,” she said. “I meant it when I said you ought to consider this a training opportunity. I thought getting away from the sect would be beneficial for you, and it turns out I was correct.” She then cocked her head to one side, as if listening for something. “Come, let’s move back outside. You can sort through your spoils in a moment.”

He Yu frowned. “What is it?” he asked.

“Nothing you need to concern yourselves with,” she said with a dismissive flick of her sleeve. “You’ll want to meditate on the battle here today when you’ve the chance. All of you. You should also continue collecting beast cores on your way back. Use the time you have yet at the peak of Foundation to strengthen your cultivation base as much as you can, but don’t delay for too long after returning to the sect. The tournament approaches, and you’ll all need to push as far into the Third Realm as you can before then.”

“I thought we had a year from reaching Foundation to break through to Body Refining,” He Yu said.

“Normally yes, but my expectations are significantly higher. Besides, I need you to be promoted to the inner sect before I can begin training you properly, and I’m not willing to wait until after next year’s tournament.”

“I’ll be ready,” Yan Shirong said, giving Zhang Lifen a stiff salute.

Her lips quirked in amusement. “Best watch out, Junior Brother He. If you’re not careful Junior Brother Yan might take your spot as my disciple.”

He Yu rolled his eyes. “Fine. I was going to break through anyway.”

“Excellent,” she said. “Now, excuse me for a moment, I need to take care of something.”

Danger spiked in He Yu’s spiritual awareness, and he thought he could hear a single word whispered just at the edge of his hearing. “Mine.” He turned to see King Hao Niu rising to his feet. Or at least King Hao’s body.

The corpse that rose as though pulled by puppet strings was surrounded by an aura of dim red light. Black veins shot through the corpse. King Hao’s meridians. His eyes had turned black—two spots of ink that held a pinpoint of red light at their center. Most disturbing, was his right arm.

The veins that pulsed in the rest of his body had burst through the skin, and the arm was a twisted mass of what looked like exposed thick black muscle that flickered with a faint red light. More a tentacle than a human limb. The mass of twisting black filaments shot out, extending by nearly a dozen feet as they latched onto the bandit king’s mace.

King Hao retrieved his fallen weapon with astonishing speed. Far faster than he’d ever moved before. Had He Yu not been at the peak of Foundation, he wouldn’t have been able to follow the movement. Despite that, he still couldn’t react in time. He could only watch as the massive bronze head of King Hao’s mace blasted towards him.

Like a river that had burst a damn, Zhang Lifen’s spirit flooded the bandit camp. This was not the same as when she’d cowed Dong Wei, or even Xiao Jun. This was a peak Golden Core at full strength. Despite being immeasurably stronger than he had been back in Shulin, He Yu collapsed under the weight of her unleashed power. Once more he found himself holding his breath for fear that he would drown. It was all he could do to lift his head so that he could watch his mentor do battle.

Zhang Lifen stepped into the oncoming blow, covering a distance of more than a dozen yards in a single fluid step. Her hand curled into a perfectly formed fist, and she struck at the incoming ball of bronze. Metal screeched as the shaft of the hammer bent. Then she released a pulse of qi—like the rushing of a waterfall plummeting hundreds of feet down the side of a mountain—and the mace’s head cracked, then shattered to pieces. It happened so fast that He Yu could barely track it.

She had used no technique that he could discern. Just a simple punch reinforced with qi—the same kind He Yu had learned from his father nearly a year prior, and the same basic enforcement he’d been training all these months. But the power contained in that punch was the first real indication of the gulf that lay between him and his mentor.

Briefly turning and offering an almost apologetic smile, Zhang Lifen said, “The three of you should stay back. I can’t guarantee your safety otherwise.”

King Hao—or whatever he’d become—let out a roar to split the heavens. The hazy red light around the bandit king had grown more intense, and the tendrils that had taken over his right arm had spread to his shoulder and chest. His spirit felt wrong and twisted, and the air was thick with the scent of blood. He let out another furious roar and launched himself at Zhang Lifen.