Chapter Eighteen: The Assailant

“Heavens, where are you taking me?” Cecily cried out in alarm, sitting beside Sir Smy on the jolting carriage as it rattled down the uneven dirt road, shaking as if seized by a fever.

“We're going to Gaul, understand? There are orcs there, and bandits,” said another passenger in the carriage. According to Sir Smy, this man was a servant of a friend, acting as their guide.

“And the Revolutionary League,” Cecily added, then turned anxiously to Sir Smy. “But I don’t want to go there. I need to look for my parents.”

Sir Smy looked troubled. “I know, but I’m truly sorry. I’ve already delayed a whole night to help you, but I still couldn’t find your parents. Perhaps they’ve already fallen victim to those bear goblins you mentioned. I have urgent matters to attend to and can’t afford to stay here much longer.”

“Then let me out—let me search for them myself!” Cecily cried.

Sir Smy reached out a hand to restrain her impulsiveness. The carriage was hurtling over the rough road; if she jumped now, she could be seriously hurt.

“It’s far too dangerous. If you run into those bear goblins again, you might die—or worse, suffer indignity before death,” Sir Smy advised gently.

“But I can’t just—” Cecily protested, her voice taut with distress.

“No, there’s nothing you can do. Even if you found your parents in the hands of those goblins, what could you possibly accomplish? Don’t worry. If the goblins really have your parents, they’ll seek you out and demand a ransom.”

“I’m willing to give everything I have.”

“Even that might not save them. That’s the crucial point. How about this: come with me to Gaul City first. If you can find any news there, you could ask the local army for help,” Sir Smy suggested.

“No—” Cecily replied in agitation, “I can’t turn to them.”

Sir Smy frowned. He didn’t know why Cecily was so unwilling to seek help from the local soldiers, but he offered another solution. “Then stay with me. When my business is done, I promise I’ll do everything in my power to help you find your parents.”

With no other option, Cecily could only nod. She gazed out the window, heart aching, and thought of Armand for no reason at all.

———

“Nothing! Where have those bastards run off to?” Gamio roared. Led by the bear goblins, they had tracked down the most recent camp of the wild elves, only to find it deserted.

“They left not long ago,” Layard judged, feeling the lingering warmth on the bedding.

“Perhaps they discovered our approach,” Wei Wuji mused, stroking his chin.

“It couldn't have been us—must be these bear goblins,” Gamio insisted, confident in his own stealth.

The bear goblins bristled, dissatisfied. They had been extremely careful to mask their presence, but the wild elves had fled with uncanny promptness—perhaps they really had sensed someone approaching.

“The most likely reason is…” Wei Wuji glanced at the two people beside him, the Hegel couple—Cecily’s parents—who looked back at him, bewildered. There was always a subtle ripple like water following them, flowing softly around them. Bear goblins could mask their presence, but this couple certainly could not. In fact, to guard against sudden harm, Wei Wuji had taken to casting a Northern Sea True Water Talisman on them at regular intervals.

But blame would surely fall on the least powerful, so Wei Wuji suddenly turned to the bear goblins. “It must be you. Even if you stifle your presence, the stench on you is enough to fill my mouth even if I hold my nose.”

The bear goblins might have grumbled in protest to Gamio or Layard, but facing the godlike killer Wei Wuji, they immediately lowered their heads.

“All right, let’s get out of here,” Wei Wuji ordered with a wave.

The group prepared to leave by the same path they’d entered, when disaster struck.

First, seven or eight arrows came flying. Wei Wuji instantly reinforced the Hegel couple with the True Water Talisman. Gamio unsheathed his sword and deflected an arrow aimed at him, while Layard was fortunate not to be targeted.

The rest of the arrows struck true—several bear goblins were killed instantly, each shot through the throat by a single arrow. The arrowheads carried a strange scent, as if coated in some long-brewed venom.

“It’s the wild elves!” Gamio shouted in fury, somewhat disheveled. Sure enough, several black shadows darted through the trees outside, fleeing deeper into the forest.

“After them! Slaughter them all!” Gamio was livid. They had come to wipe out the bandits, only to walk straight into an ambush.

Wei Wuji did not move. The bear goblins, emboldened by Gamio, charged a few steps before retreating, a couple of them wounded by the same poisoned arrows to thigh or shoulder. Though not dead on the spot, their faces were soon shrouded in blackness.

“Careful,” Layard warned.

“You all stay here. Don’t go anywhere. Protect them for me,” Wei Wuji commanded, indicating the Hegel couple.

Gamio and Layard understood he was about to act, and immediately closed ranks around the couple.

“Be careful,” Wei Wuji cautioned, striding toward the patch of forest where the shadows had fled.

———

A murderous glint flared in Wei Wuji’s eyes. For these wild elves to dare ambush him, he was truly incensed. He knew full well it could be a ploy to lure him and Gamio into a trap—there might be more to come. But he had always been bold as well as skilled. He merely instructed Gamio and Layard to guard the Hegels and was determined to wipe out every last one of the reckless wild elves.

As he neared the edge of the trees, two sharp arrows shot toward his eyes, one from each side. Judging by the force, a hit would have pierced his skull through.

Wei Wuji didn’t even blink as he charged forward. When the arrows reached him, waves rippled before him—the power of the True Water Talisman. The arrows, as if plunging into deep water, slowed abruptly. With a flick of his hand, Wei Wuji deflected the deadly shafts as easily as a child’s plaything.

He spun his body, a whirlwind rising around him. The wind fused with the True Water Talisman, the two spells working in concert as he plunged into the forest. More arrows rained from all directions—at least ten more—but the whirlwind shield blocked them, and the water talisman drained their force.

Wei Wuji entered the woods, his eyes flashing with golden light—he had activated the Golden Eye Technique, a Daoist art used for seeking spirit stone veins and hidden treasures, capable of seeing through darkness and mist as though it were daylight.

With a cold snort, Wei Wuji leapt upward. In midair, the Sevenfold Gengjin Sword Aura burst forth; nearby wild elves, no longer able to conceal themselves, felt the sword energy cut through them and drew their own weapons in a desperate defense. Further off, the wild elves who had escaped the blade’s reach continued to aim their arrows at Wei Wuji, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

A cacophony erupted as the sword aura struck the elves’ blades. It sounded as if a giant sword was smashing down with relentless force. Each elf felt the pressure—none had expected Wei Wuji to be so formidable. Spotting two wild elves close together, Wei Wuji’s body flashed with light as he spun midair. The Sevenfold Gengjin Sword Aura split into several blades, slashing down. The wild elves, refusing to back down, desperately reinforced their own swords with razor-edge spells and unleashed three elemental missiles in counterattack.

Wild elves practiced both martial and magical arts, with a natural talent for all combat techniques, though they favored bows and swords. They were born with an affinity for elven magic, able to cast certain spells instantly and without incantation—though most, due to their bloodline, excelled in wood and water branches of earth magic. The elemental missile was a basic attack spell that could be cast from any element, forming the most readily available energy into a projectile. Though weak, it was fast and easy to use. This made elven talent truly formidable. Fortunately, nothing in this world is perfect; the elves’ dual cultivation of magic and martial arts simply meant they could combine their innate talents with elven magic. Elven spells cast faster than human ones, thanks to their ancient history and close affinity with the elements, but within each school, the available spells were few and their power limited—mostly low and mid-tier magic.

Wei Wuji, however, was even fiercer than the wild elves imagined. He neither dodged nor gave them a chance. The Sevenfold Gengjin Sword Aura cleaved through the wild elves, while the elemental missiles had no effect. The Daoist whirlwind and water talismans defended equally well against both physical and magical attacks—unlike the wild elves’ wind shield, which protected only against ranged attacks and not close combat.

A single mistake cost the wild elf everything; though not as strong as Gamio or Layard, he could have held out for a while, but was instead cut down easily by Wei Wuji.

With one wild elf slain in an instant, Wei Wuji’s bloodlust surged. The Sevenfold Gengjin Sword Aura, changing with his will, now became a massive blade, cleaving a second wild elf in two. The elf managed a final, desperate strike, but only just depleted the power of the whirlwind and water talismans.

As the spells faded, the golden core in Wei Wuji’s abdomen leapt up, filling him with light, his speed increasing rather than diminishing. This “flight light”—a Daoist technique achieved at the golden core stage—allowed both flight and protection. Just as he prepared to hunt down the remaining wild elves, he suddenly looked up and saw a star shining brightly overhead.

“Who is using starlight to track with the Power of Seven Stars? Could there be another Daoist nearby?”

Realizing this, Wei Wuji gave up the pursuit and quickly returned toward the Hegel couple.

———

A dish the size of a washbasin, its base engraved with a profusion of runes and cloud patterns, at first glance chaotic, but on closer inspection revealing subtle order.

A star overhead gleamed fiercely. In the dish, a miniature map slowly appeared, resembling the area where Wei Wuji’s group had been ambushed, as if projected from high above.

“Is this the place?” Two people examined the map. One was spectacularly ordinary—so much so that he would vanish in any crowd. The other was remarkable, markedly different from the continent’s natives: black-haired, pale-skinned, with a commanding presence, dressed in a Daoist robe typical of the Far East, with wide sleeves and a sword strapped to his back.

They studied the map, where countless colored dots glimmered. The ordinary-looking man squinted. “Have you located them?”

“Of course. With my Purple Star Chart and the Xuantian Seven Luminaries Plate, unless their cultivation far surpasses mine, no one escapes the starlight tracing spell,” the Far Eastern man replied arrogantly, pointing at the plate as he explained. “The less skilled at masking their presence, the brighter and clearer their light in the plate. Your two largest points are surely the Hegel couple—the ordinary folk. The next brightest are the bear goblins. Those fast-moving, dimmer dots are the wild elves.”

“And those?” The ordinary man pointed to several other dots, their color almost blending with the plate, scattered in small groups, some so faint they were barely visible.

“These are the other parties like us, each seeking the Hegels. The faintest ones are so hard to track that even the Xuantian Seven Luminaries Plate struggles to catch them. We must be cautious,” the Far Eastern man said, his tone serious.

The ordinary man nodded. “Very well. So what do you propose we do now?”

The Far Eastern man lifted his brows. “Now the real show begins. We wait for them to slaughter each other, then swoop in for the spoils. But let’s be clear—I, Fei Liguo, am breaking the rules by intervening here. If my sect finds out, I’ll be punished, at the very least confined to the Reflection Cliff. When will you make good on our bargain?”

The ordinary man replied coolly, “Our deal was that you help me three times, and I’ll give you the Golden Dragon Transformation Sutra. This is only the first. You’re being impatient. If you doubt me, you’re free to leave, and I’ll find someone else.”

A cold light flashed in Fei Liguo’s eyes, but he swallowed his anger. He wanted that Daoist scripture desperately—otherwise, with his temperament, he would have walked away long ago at such words.

“Very well. Just remember what you promised. Otherwise—even if you are my Daoist senior—I’ll be sure to let you taste the power of the Sword of Longevity.”