“Huh?” Zhang Ming scratched his ear and turned around. “Must’ve imagined it.”

  He had been walking all night without stopping, trying to put as much distance as possible between himself and the bandits’ fortress. Because of the darkness, however, Zhang Ming moved very slowly. Even at the third stage of Body Tempering he could see no farther than five steps ahead. It felt as if a wall of blackness surrounded him, and he had no desire to wander off the path by accident and lose himself in the forest.

  During the years the fortress had existed, the bandits had driven away some of the more dangerous predators nearby, but not all of them. From time to time Zhang Ming heard the pounding of paws behind him, the faint crack of a twig, or the whisper of leaves, as though a beast were stalking him. Whenever he turned around, the sounds stopped. Occasionally he even caught a glimpse of a pair of glinting eyes in the darkness. The entire night passed in tension. Zhang Ming never let go of his sword, and only allowed himself to relax a little when morning finally came.

  He had not welcomed a sunrise this eagerly in a long time. The sun slowly climbed into the sky, morning mist settled into dew upon the grass, and birds began waking among the treetops. Zhang Ming took a deep breath and, sheathing his sword, continued on his way. He had not managed to get far from the fortress during the night, so instead of resting he quickened his pace. Unwilling to risk running into members of the band, he left the path and moved through the forest.

  As he traveled, Zhang Ming’s thoughts often returned to the treasure buried beneath the burned village. The wealth hidden there could support a long and comfortable life or buy several pills. On top of that, he remembered the cozy house where Xue and Mingzhu were now living, and felt a need to provide them with the same comfort. His conscience would never allow him to drag them back to the slums, yet he had no desire to part with the girls either.

  There were medicines among the hidden goods. We didn’t check everything. There should be something useful for me there, Zhang Ming thought, torn by temptation.

  “Should I go or not?” He ran both hands through his thick hair, weighing the risks. “I’ll reach the place before any pursuers… Mm… Fine. I’ll just take a quick look.”

  Greed won out, and Zhang Ming dashed toward the burned village at full speed. Unfortunately, he had left the fortress traveling light, without food or water, which forced him to delay along the way while he caught a rabbit and searched for a spring to refill his flask. Of all his supplies, he only had a small pouch of salt and a few fragrant herbs to season the meat. Past experience had taught him that not all animals tasted good, especially when cooked without spices.

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  During one of his stops, Zhang Ming heard a strange noise in the distance, as if a tree had fallen. In the span of a few breaths he climbed onto a rise and scanned the forest from there. Far away, a flock of disturbed birds circled above the trees, roughly halfway between him and the Earth Dragon Fortress.

  What happened there? A bit early for a pursuit. Hm. The army wouldn’t have arrived that quickly either, Zhang Ming thought, yet he did not abandon his plan to retrieve the treasure. No one will reach the place before me. I’ll grab the treasure and slip away.

  Two days later he arrived at the outskirts of the burned village. Among the young growth of trees, tall grass, and weeds stood the charred fragments of walls. Some surviving supports had not yet rotted away and pointed toward the sky like blackened candles. Carefully making his way through the grass, Zhang Ming stepped onto the trampled clearing where his group had camped the last time they were here. Although they had tried to conceal the cache, the result had been terrible. From the tracks and piles of debris, it was not difficult at all to determine where the digging had taken place.

  “Well… we were in quite a hurry back then,” Zhang Ming chuckled and began digging out the entrance to the cache.

  He finished quickly, and within a couple of hours he had moved the last stone aside. Suddenly, goosebumps ran across his body. He felt a brush of death, as though an icy breath had blown across his back and a skull with empty eye sockets had bared its teeth above his shoulder. In that same instant Zhang Ming sprang away, covering several meters in a single leap while drawing his sword. A thunderous crash sounded behind him as part of a charred wall exploded into fragments.

  “Ha! Rats are good at running. Right?” a familiar voice said, sending a chill of cold sweat down Zhang Ming’s back.

  “Lieutenant Mo, I’m glad to see you,” he said, turning around. “To what do I owe the honor?”

  “Hm.” Mo Dushi smiled and ran a hand across his bald head. “I came to personally deliver a reward for your loyal service.”

  “You shouldn’t have troubled yourself,” Zhang Ming replied, slowly backing toward the forest.

  The assistant to the commander of the Brown Boar looked somewhat disheveled, not from battle, but from the forest grime clinging to his clothes. It seemed he had rushed here in great haste. Although Mo Dushi stood still and did nothing, Zhang Ming could feel his killing intent, the urge to tear him apart piece by piece. Bloodlust surged outward like a violent tide, pressing down on both body and mind. Any ordinary person would have been paralyzed with fear and become easy prey, but such tricks had no effect on Zhang Ming.

  “Hm. You’re tougher than I thought,” Mo Dushi remarked. “So you were hiding your strength. Now everything makes sense. You’re the one who killed Tu Ham. Who sent you?” he asked. “Silent? That’s fine. I’ll make you talk. Care to guess how I found this place? Heh.”

  Without taking his eyes off his opponent, Zhang Ming tried to recall the layout of the area and the position of the obstacles, hoping to gain fractions of a second in a fight against a stronger and more experienced warrior. If he remembered correctly, the remains of a stone wall were on the right, a dense shrub stood on the left, and behind him rose a pillar overgrown with ivy. If only he could reach the forest, where trees and thick undergrowth would make it harder to swing a sword, but his opponent would hardly allow that.