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Chapter 204: Death
Clang, clang, clang!
"Ugh..." Great Swordmaster Galinan let out a pained groan and tumbled from the tree.
The old man had never expected to stumble right into where
Facing Lorist's sudden ambush, Great Swordmaster Galinan had reacted with impressive speed. But having lost the initiative and with his Combat Force utterly spent, he managed to parry Lorist's first three strikes only to have his center guard shattered by the fourth. His left chest took another devastating wound. Had the old man not been a seasoned veteran of countless duels, quick-witted enough to throw himself off the tree and avoid being run through chest and back, Lorist's blade would have pinned him to the branch like a butterfly on a board.
Thud! Great Swordmaster Galinan hit the ground with a heavy crash.
"Ugh..." The old man spat out a mouthful of blood on the spot. His left chest was slashed wide open, blood pouring freely. The arrow embedded in his back — though Galinan had managed to snap off the shaft — still had its arrowhead lodged inside. The fall from the tree and the hard impact with the ground had driven the arrowhead a fraction of an inch deeper into his flesh, making the old man grimace through clenched teeth in searing pain.
Lifting his head, Great Swordmaster Galinan stared up at Lorist perched on the tree branch with venomous hatred. "Brat, so you were hiding here all along — and you've learned to scheme and launch sneak attacks, have you? As long as I don't die, we'll have plenty of time to settle this score..."
Lorist was also panting heavily, leaning against the tree trunk with one hand braced on the bark. The few sword exchanges just now had aggravated the wounds on his body. Pain made his entire head drenched in sweat. Looking down at Great Swordmaster Galinan beneath the tree, Lorist's eyes burned with fury, and his cold words dripped with killing intent: "You still want to stay alive? Dream on! You're dying here today. If you want to settle the score, come find me as a ghost…"
Damn it. Ever since he'd returned from
He was just about to leap down from the tree when he heard the sounds of Norton Family soldiers searching in the distance. Below the tree, Great Swordmaster Galinan scrambled across the ground, crawling and rolling to get out of Lorist's striking range. He staggered to his feet and said with a sinister voice: "I'll spare your life for now, boy. We'll meet again…"
With that, the old man clutched the wound on his left chest and hobbled into the underbrush, paying no mind to the sharp thorns tearing at his skin as he fled deep into the jungle…
"Damn it! Aren't you supposed to be a Great Swordmaster? Have you no shame running away like this?" Lorist cursed loudly from the tree.
Great Swordmaster Galinan ignored him entirely, keeping his head down and charging forward.
Lorist had no choice. If he waited for his family soldiers to arrive as reinforcement, it would take quite a while, and this old Great Swordmaster would likely escape. Now was the time to beat a drowning dog — if he let the old man heal up, his family would be in grave danger. This old bastard had to die! Lorist steeled himself, leapt down from the tree, and gave chase after the old man, ignoring the pain in his wounds…
After a dozen minutes or so, Reddy arrived with roughly ten family guards, carefully approaching the base of the tree while carrying four chariot steel crossbows. With his innate great strength, Reddy held up one chariot crossbow on his own while keeping watch. The other three crossbows were each carried by two men — one in front holding a half-length support pillar, and one behind cradling the rear section of the crossbow, ready to fire at a moment's notice.
Soon, the searching guards discovered bloodstains and footprints on the ground. A few guards who had climbed the tree brought down fragments of Lorist's shattered steel death-soft armor, bloodied cloth strips, and the silver cases that had held his wound medicine, now empty.
"His Lordship is alive — he's all right…" Reddy said with elated relief. "These silver cases are the ones Lord Lorist kept hidden in his clothes for wound medicine. It looks like he's already applied medicine and bandaged his wounds. Keep looking — see if there are any other clues…"
"Here. Two people passed through, one after another..." Before long, a guard who'd been a hunter by trade spotted traces left in the underbrush: "Look — two different kinds of fabric threads are caught on the thorns. They pushed through the thicket heading toward the Wastes..."
"Leave someone behind to report to Lord El. The rest of you, with me — we're going after them." Reddy made the call without hesitation.
The sky had grown ever darker. Lorist had long since lost track of how long he'd been chasing the old man's silhouette ahead, how many hillsides or streams they'd crossed. His chest felt like a bonfire was raging inside it, burning so fiercely he could barely breathe. The old Great Swordmaster's pace had slowed too, and he stumbled forward with labored steps...
"O-old man, did you... did you damn well eat rat poison or something? How can you still run like this..." Lorist muttered under his breath, forcing himself to keep up...
Not far ahead, another stream appeared. Galinen the Great Swordmaster lurched toward it and collapsed face-first into the water, gulping down mouthful after mouthful of the clear current.
Lorist followed, plunging himself into the stream a dozen meters or so from Galinen. The cool water sliding down his throat finally eased the searing feeling in his chest. After gulping down a bellyful, he rolled onto his back, looked over at Galinen, and let out a hoarse laugh: "Keep running, old man. Go on — run some more. Aren't you supposed to be great at running..."
"D-don't get cocky... you... you can't move either, can you? Just wait... wait till I recover a little Combat Force, and I'll... I'll make you wish you were dead..."
Lorist struggled upright, propping himself up with his sword: "Fine... let's see who recovers first... and who dies first..."
Galinen said nothing, as if saving even the energy to speak. He simply lay draped over the stream in silence.
Lorist fell quiet too, focusing on regulating his breathing in order to recover his strength as quickly as possible.
Time ticked by second by second. After what felt like an eternity, Lorist staggered to his feet, pulled his sword from the ground, and began to walk toward the Great Swordmaster Galinen, who remained sprawled over the stream.
When he was about five or six meters away, Lorist readied himself to charge. Just as he was about to spring forward, his expression suddenly changed, and he began to retreat, step by step...
On the other side of the stream, a massive, ten-meter-long serpent of mottled colors had appeared at some point and was slithering toward the incapacitated Galinen.
The serpent closed the distance and opened its foul-smelling maw to strike. In its eyes, Galinen was likely just a large, low-hanging piece of prey—unable to move, like a gazelle with broken legs that could only watch as it was devoured.
A flash of golden sword light erupted. The serpent's head split apart in an instant, and the figure of Galinen, who had been lying motionless, suddenly flipped up and leaped into the air. In a blur of flashing steel, the giant serpent was reduced to chunks of meat, its stench spraying Galinen and painting him red from head to toe.
Galinen was furious to the point of madness. He had painstakingly recovered and stored a bit of combat energy, only to be forced to expend it all on this serpent that had delivered itself to his doorstep. He had originally planned to use that energy to give Lorist an unpleasant surprise.
But Lorist was already charging in. The old man's sword strike against the serpent had made it clear—this Great Swordmaster recovered his combat power faster than he did. If not for this "heroic" serpent that had conveniently thrown itself into the fray, Lorist might have been deceived by the old man's performance and caught off guard in a moment of carelessness. But now that the old man had wasted his energy on the serpent, Lorist wouldn't be holding back.
*Clang-clang-clang-clang-clang...*
The continuous ring of sword strikes echoed once more. This time, however, it was Galinen who was sent spinning away through the air. Two new sword wounds on his body were one thing, but a kick from Lorist to his abdomen had sent him flying. He crashed to the ground, curled up like a cooked lobster, vomiting blood continuously...
Lorist leaned on his sword with both hands, using it to keep himself from collapsing. That last exchange had drained every last bit of his strength. Not falling over was a miracle in itself. His body was drenched in sweat mixed with streaks of blood from several reopened wounds, and waves of searing pain lashed through him.
This time, it was Great Swordmaster Galinen who struggled to his feet first, stumbling toward the distant forest while coughing up blood. Lorist was currently circulating his breath to channel the last remaining wisp of internal energy. He couldn't move a single finger and could only watch helplessly as the old man disappeared into the forest…
By the time Lorist was able to move, he followed the old man's blood trail into the forest, but the sky had already darkened. Beast roars echoed from every direction. The most pressing matter now was not finding the old Great Swordmaster, but finding himself a safe place to spend the night.
Lorist found a massive tree and climbed up it. A trunk so thick it would take a dozen people linking hands to encircle would surely have something he needed. He struck the trunk with the pommel of his sword, and a hollow echo quickly returned. Lorist channeled internal energy into the blade, thrust it into the wood, and carved an oval roughly two feet across, then gripped the bark and pulled hard. A section of bark some ten centimeters thick came away, revealing a hollow cavity within the trunk.
This was a wilderness survival technique Lorist had learned during his time as a mercenary in Morant City. Trees of this size always contained hollows of various sizes inside, which could serve as temporary shelters. The cavity in this trunk wasn't large, but it was more than enough for Lorist. After climbing in, he first pierced two ventilation holes through the trunk with his sword, then sealed the bark back in place and wedged his longsword through it as a door latch, so the bark wouldn't fall out or cave inward.
In the darkness, Lorist was exhausted to the point of death and desperately wanted to sleep, but he knew in his heart that an old man who was a Great Swordmaster wouldn't perish so easily in the forest. He had to strike while the iron was hot — when the man was injured, he had to eliminate the threat once and for all. Once he had dealt with the old Great Swordmaster, he would naturally go pay the second prince a proper visit of gratitude…
Lorist sat cross-legged and forced himself through the pain to circulate the Gold Water Art, hoping that by dawn he would have enough energy and vitality to hunt down the hiding old Great Swordmaster.
The forest in the dead of night was quite lively. Beast roars rose and fell without cease, and scratching and tapping sounds frequently came from outside his bark door. Fortunately, the spot Lorist had chosen to carve into the bark was cleverly positioned — about five feet up at a fork in the trunk, easily accessible for a human but giving no foothold for quadrupedal magical beasts. Beasts that could reach this height couldn't climb the tree, and those that could climb trees weren't tall enough…
When Lorist saw sunlight streaming through the ventilation holes, he realized a new day had arrived. After a night of breath regulation and energy circulation, he had finally recovered a third of his internal energy in his dantian. Sensing that there was no movement outside, Lorist pushed open the bark door and squeezed out of the hollow.
Today, he would find that old Great Swordmaster and kill him! Lorist swore silently to himself.
The magical beasts that had roamed the forest last night had long since obliterated every trace the old man had left. Lorist could only rely on his intuition and guesses as he searched slowly through the woods.
The beasts were driven off, but the losses were devastating.
Looking at the four guards who were still unscathed,
Lorist had already found Great Swordmaster Galinan. The old man hadn't run far the night before. He had climbed a tree as well, but instead of finding a hollow like Lorist had, he'd climbed straight to the top, shaved off the treetop, lopped away the upper branches, and carved out a hollow in the crown of the tree to shelter in.
Unlike Lorist, the old man had been harassed by magical beasts throughout the night. Magical snakes, magical pythons, and magical leopards — all manner of tree-climbing beasts had taken turns attacking him. Meanwhile, beneath the tree, packs of carnivorous beasts had gathered with their mouths agape, waiting to feast on any magical beast corpses that might rain down from above. That was why Lorist had spotted Great Swordmaster Galinan perched atop his tree from so far away.
As if by some telepathic link, Galinan spotted Lorist in the distance too. Despite a full night of ceaseless harassment from magical beasts, a Great Swordmaster was still a Great Swordmaster — he had already recovered half of his Combat Force. Now, seeing Lorist deliver himself right to his doorstep, he let out a wild roar, leapt from his tree to the one beside it, and launched himself toward Lorist.
Lorist drew his sword and took a guarded stance. Both men knew that today was the best chance to take the other's life. If they missed today and one or both went into hiding, meeting again would be far from easy. Great Swordmaster Galinan was dead set on bringing back Lorist's head — partly to vent his rage over the grievous wounds he had suffered, and partly to fulfill the
Clang, clang, clang, clang, clang, clang...
This time, however, it was Lorist who was forced to retreat again and again. He hadn't expected the old man to have become so ferocious after a single night. The wound on his left chest, the bloody hole in his right calf, the arrow wounds under his left ribs and in his back — none of it seemed to affect him in the slightest. He had simply wrapped the wounds in haphazard bandages and fought as if nothing were wrong, pressing Lorist into a desperate defense.
"Damn it — you old fossil, you've got to be at least seventy or eighty. How the hell are you recovering faster than me?" Lorist was utterly baffled.
"Heh heh, boy, did you think my reputation as a half-step peak Great Swordmaster was unearned? One more step and I'd be a Sword Saint. You brought this on yourself — and you still dare show your face here?" Galinan pressed forward with every word, arrogance radiating from every step.
"Roar!" A furious bellow erupted.
Behind Lorist, a savage magical bear suddenly appeared, standing three or four meters tall. It reared up on its hind legs and swiped both massive paws down at him.
Lorist kept his composure in the face of danger. He dropped low, flattening himself to the ground, and kicked off with both feet, shooting through the bear's legs with a swift "whoosh."
"Ugh, that stench..." Lorist, having just endured the humiliation of passing beneath the bear, felt his stomach heave with nausea. But there was no time to dwell on it — he sprang up from the ground and slammed both feet into the bear's back. The beast stumbled forward, propelled straight toward Great Swordmaster Galinan.
The old man had been quietly rejoicing that the bear had cut off Lorist's retreat. Never did he expect that in the blink of an eye the bear would be charging at him instead. He lacked Lorist's agility, and with no other choice, he had to deal with the savage magical bear first.
It took every ounce of the old man's effort, leaving him drenched in sweat, to finally butcher the beast. Before he had even caught his breath, he saw Lorist flash a smile that boded no good. Without a word, the old man turned and bolted.
"Seriously? This is what passes for a half-step peak Great Swordmaster?" Lorist broke into a sprint, cursing loudly as he gave chase.
Lorist had already spotted his chance — the old man's right leg was wounded and hindered his movement, forcing him to trade blows head-on with the bear. As long as Lorist relied on his superior agility and kept to a hit-and-run approach, he could wear the old man down.
Despite having only his left leg to push off, the old man still ran surprisingly fast. Lorist chased him for a good while but couldn't close the distance, until the two of them — one fleeing, one pursuing — arrived at a half-cliff. Below the precipice flowed a river like a green jade ribbon.
"Run! Keep running! No more road, is there?" Lorist panted, thoroughly winded from the chase.
The old man was panting too, but a cunning grin spread across his face. "Heh heh, did you really think I was running away? This place is perfect — no more hit-and-run for you. I spent ages looking for just the right spot, boy. This is where you die!"
Before the words had even left his mouth, the old man lunged at him.
A rapid succession of clashing steel rang through the air.
The roles had reversed — now it was Lorist who was being driven back to the cliff's edge by the Galinan Great Swordmaster, with only a few more steps between him and the river far below.
"Heh heh, boy, you'll die with your eyes wide open, won't you? I—" The old man suddenly went rigid, his longsword clattering to the ground. An iron crossbow bolt had pierced clean through his lower abdomen, leaving a gaping hole.
"My lord, my lord..." Reddy scrambled up from below the cliff, catching the swaying Lorist just in time to keep him upright.
Lorist let out a breath of relief and collapsed into Reddy's arms. He was about to speak when his expression suddenly changed — the Galinan Great Swordmaster, whom they had thought dead, was charging at them with a murderous snarl: "Let's die together..."
Both palms struck Reddy squarely in the back, sending the young man hurtling toward the cliff's edge. In desperation, Lorist thrust his sword upward, and it pierced through the old man's heart with a wet squelch. But Reddy's arms were still wrapped around him, and the two of them tumbled over the cliff together...
...
All about luck, I suppose. Go grab those Qidian coins and come back to subscribe to my chapters! (To be continued.)