"I'll give you my Yin Source," the Left Protector stammered, desperate. "Whoever controls it, controls my life and death. You'll never have to worry about my loyalty again. I'll do anything you ask."
Jiang Dao's eyes lit up. "It can do that?" he asked. "Then give it to me. Now."
The Left Protector raised his one remaining arm and slammed it against his forehead, with a sickening thump, a shimmering, quail-egg-sized glob of green blood shot from his mouth. The moment it left him, the color drained from the Left Protector's face. He seemed to collapse in on himself, his energy utterly spent.
Jiang Dao snatched the globule from the air. A profound, chilling energy pulsed from it, a cold that radiated outward like a shard of mystical ice. But against the heat of his own palm, the chill was barely noticeable.
So, this is the Yin Source?
"Got a bottle? Find something to put this in," Jiang Dao ordered.
"Yes... in the next room..." the man rasped, his voice weak.
Jiang Dao hauled him into the adjoining room and found a small porcelain bottle. He emptied it out and carefully poured the viscous drop of source blood inside.
A grin spread across Jiang Dao's face. "By the way, what's your name?"
"My name is Han Ming," he replied.
"Alright, Han Ming. From now on, you're my mole inside the Spirit Child Palace," Jiang Dao declared. "I want to know about any major developments. If the Right Protector or the three Dharma Kings make a move, you tell me immediately. Got it?"
"Yes, I understand," Han Ming rushed to say.
Satisfied, Jiang Dao casually dropped the man's body, tucked the bottle away, and walked out. Han Ming lay on the floor, bleeding and broken, a bitter smile on his face. He never imagined he'd end up like this.
Back in the front courtyard, Jiang Dao spotted the woodcutter huddled in a corner, who immediately scrambled towards him, yelling, "Immortal! Please, save me!"
With an annoyed frown, Jiang Dao strode over, grabbed the man by his collar, and took off in a dead sprint. He didn't stop for nearly thirty miles, finally dumping the terrified woodcutter in a roadside pavilion.
"You're safe now. Find your own way from here," Jiang Dao said, and then he was gone, a blur heading back toward the Black Tiger Gang's headquarters. The gang had controlled immense resources; there had to be countless secret manuals hidden there. He wasn't about to let a prize like that slip through his fingers.
When Jiang Dao returned to Sifang City, he found it tearing itself apart. Government officials, rival gangs, even the Black Tigers' own lieutenants—everyone was scrambling for a piece of the fallen empire, a bloody free-for-all for the gang's vast territory and wealth. The Black Tiger Gang had once boasted nearly a hundred thousand members, a legion of the martial world's toughest fighters. Now, the once-mighty gang was just a carcass for the vultures to pick clean.
At the heart of it all was the Listening Rain Pavilion, the gang's headquarters. It was a massive five-story fortress of a building overlooking a lake. Every floor was a library of martial arts, packed with scrolls detailing everything from hidden weapons and agility techniques to devastating saber styles and internal energy cultivation.
Now, a mob of warriors from every faction imaginable swarmed its entrance. The ground was already littered with the bodies of those who had died trying to claim the prize within. The walls were splattered with blood.
"Enough!" a voice boomed. A bearded old man dropped from the sky, landing in their midst. "There's enough for everyone! This infighting is pointless!"
"Easy for you to say!" someone shouted back. "What about the crown jewel, the Black Demon's Heart Technique? Who gets their hands on that?"
"Exactly! I heard it's a divine skill, and only one person can study it at a time. Who doesn't want to be first?"
"I heard that technique is cursed," another voice muttered. "Too weak and you try to learn it? Your own energy tears you apart from the inside."
Just then, the city guard arrived in force, surrounding the pavilion.
"This property is now under the authority of the imperial court! Disperse immediately!" a tall general in chainmail armor roared.
"General Wu, are you really picking a fight with the entire martial world?" an old man demanded, his voice a mix of anger and disbelief.
"The martial world?" the general scoffed. "You are standing on imperial property. You are not fighting me; you are fighting the throne itself. Elder Wang, do you fancy having your entire family executed?"
The elder, Wang, shrank back, his face pale.
"Retreat now," the general bellowed, "or my archers will open fire!"
As the warriors tensed, ready to charge the guards and risk it all, a figure crashed down from the sky, landing with a ground-shaking BOOM.
He was a mountain of a man, nearly two meters tall, dressed in black with a shock of black hair. Broad-shouldered and imposing, he radiated an aura of pure indifference as he turned and began walking toward the Listening Rain Pavilion.
The moment they saw him, Elder Wang and the former Black Tiger captains went pale. A wave of pure terror washed over them, and they scrambled backward as if they'd seen a ghost. The crowd around them thinned by half in an instant.
The general frowned. "Halt! Who are you? This is a restricted area under imperial authority!"
Jiang Dao didn't even spare him a glance.
"Archers! Fire!" General Wu roared, swinging his arm down.
A black cloud of arrows descended, converging on Jiang Dao from all sides. A deafening CLANG of metal on metal rang out. Sparks flew as every arrow struck Jiang Dao's body and shattered, falling uselessly to the ground as if they'd hit a mountain of solid iron.
He was invulnerable.
Jiang Dao stopped. Slowly, he turned his head, his cold gaze locking onto the general.
"Are you trying to die?"
Untouchable. He was completely untouchable. The soldiers stared, their bows hanging limp in their hands, their minds struggling to process what they'd just seen.
"What are you?" the general gasped. "Some kind of demon?"
A flicker of irritation crossed Jiang Dao's face. His temper, always simmering just below the surface, began to boil.
He vanished.
The next instant, he was in front of General Wu, his hand clamped on the man's head. His fingers, hard as steel, punched through scalp and scraped against bone. The general let out a raw, agonizing scream as Jiang Dao lifted him clean off the ground by his skull.
"Stay out of my way if you want to live," Jiang Dao said, his voice flat and cold. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he tossed the general aside like a sack of trash, sending him tumbling into the stunned crowd.
Silence fell. No one dared to breathe, let alone speak.
Jiang Dao turned and strode into the Listening Rain Pavilion. He made his way up, ignoring the endless shelves of martial arts scrolls until he reached the fifth floor. There, resting on a single shelf, was a thick set of green jade slips. He unrolled them. At the top, a line of characters was elegantly carved:
The Black Demon's Heart Technique.
This was Xie Xuan's technique, he mused. But what was Xie Xuan? The body of a demon, the soul of a man. Could a method created by such a creature even be trusted? He decided to take it and study it later.
His real goal was to find techniques based on Yin energy, but a quick search of the lower floors came up empty. Disappointed, he settled for three powerful body-strengthening manuals, six saber styles, and three palm-fighting techniques. The rest seemed no better than what the Raging Flames Gang already had.
He didn't bother with the stairs. Jiang Dao simply leaped from a fourth-story window, landing perfectly on the back of a pinto horse below. Its owner, one of the warriors in the crowd, could only stare in shock as his horse whinnied and galloped away with its new rider.
The moment Jiang Dao was out of sight, the spell was broken. Someone let out a triumphant yell, and the mob surged forward, descending on the Listening Rain Pavilion like a pack of wolves.
A day later, Jiang Dao returned to Qianyuan City. The chaos there was just as palpable, though quieter. The news was on everyone's lips: dozens of the city's top fighters, and even one of the Emperor's elite Golden Seal Divine Constables, had been slaughtered in a single night.
There were only five such Constables in the entire Empire. They were living legends, the best of the best. And this one had died so brutally that a complete corpse couldn't even be recovered. The news sent a tremor of fear through the capital. An imperial investigation was inevitable.
The consensus in the teahouses and inns was clear: it had to be the work of demons. After all, what mortal man could kill a Golden Seal Divine Constable so completely?
"Boss..." Xiang An and Guo Dutian greeted Jiang Dao the moment he returned, their faces a mixture of awe and terror. They knew exactly what had happened. They knew who was responsible for the massacre that had the whole city trembling.
"Any trouble while I was gone?" Jiang Dao asked calmly. "Did you deal with the smaller gangs?"
"It's done, boss," Xiang An reported. "Every gang in Qianyuan City has been... absorbed into the Raging Flames Gang. But the imperial guard has seized many of our old properties, and with the Divine Constable dead, investigators will be here soon."
"An investigation?" Jiang Dao scoffed. "Let them investigate." He had absorbed so many new assets that the loss of a few seized properties was meaningless.
"Boss, a word of caution," Xiang An said, lowering his voice. "I've heard the imperial court is backed by one of the demon-slaying families."
Jiang Dao's brow furrowed. "Demon slayers? Which family?"
"The Tuoba family. The same one Fang Tianba was trying to get in touch with before... You know."
Jiang Dao's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint in them. Them. The same family that slaughtered Qin Qingqing's entire clan. And now they're here?
"Boss? What is it?" Xiang An asked nervously.
"It's nothing," Jiang Dao said, his voice cold. "Start recruiting. I want our numbers back to full strength. Then, send men to take over the Black Tiger Gang's old territory. If anyone resists, kill them."
Xiang An and the others bowed, their hearts pounding. So he had gone after the Black Tiger Gang.
Jiang Dao retreated to his room, his mind churning. First, the Spirit Child Palace, and now the Tuoba demon slayers. It seemed the world was determined not to grant him a single moment of peace.
Still, the trip had been profitable. He'd eliminated five spirit children and a vengeful ghost—six demonic entities in total. That gave him enough power to modify his techniques twelve times.
He began by laying out the three body-strengthening manuals he'd taken from the pavilion.
Bull Demon Strength Training Art.
Mighty Tiger Demon Claw.
Immovable Divine Elephant Formula.
Each one was leagues beyond his old Iron Shirt or Golden Bell Shield techniques. Those were common, dime-a-dozen skills. These... these were the arts of masters.