Chapter 26: Earth Bear Striker

“What do you mean, gone mad? Explain yourself,” Ma Pengxin demanded in a low voice.

“It’s just as I said. The chief went insane, killed his favorite concubine, plastered her flesh into the walls, and then the rest started losing their minds too, killing anyone they saw,” one of the Red Sleeve Army stammered.

“The few who weren’t mad yet got scared and tried to escape the stronghold, but somehow, although a lot fled at first, by the end it was just the two of us left. The rest are mostly dead. We have to get out of here—there’s something monstrous in these mountains, there must be,” the other added urgently.

The five—Ma Pengxin, Lu Yan, and their companions—grew somber at the tale.

“These two aren’t perhaps trying to trick us, refusing to lead us to the bandit den by inventing some story?” one of the Crimson Guards muttered suspiciously.

“It’s possible, but what if it’s true? Captain Ma, what should we do?” another Crimson Guard asked, turning to Ma Pengxin.

Ma Pengxin hesitated. Lu Yan could guess at the reason: if they let these two Red Sleeve soldiers lead the way and found the bandit lair, there would be a hefty reward. But it was dangerous. Lu Yan offered, “Captain, even if they’re lying, the bandits have plenty of experts. With our strength, even if we found their lair, we’d be putting ourselves in grave danger. We should inform Young Master Liu. Finding these two Red Sleeve men is already a great merit.”

“Agreed. We’ll do that,” Ma Pengxin nodded, making his decision. Immediately, they began escorting the two Red Sleeve soldiers southward.

Just then, urgent footsteps sounded from the west. Five figures emerged.

“It’s the Wu clan,” someone exclaimed. Four wore the uniforms of Windrider Guards; the fifth was a youth, young-faced, no more than fifteen or sixteen, clearly a direct scion of the Wu family.

The Wu clan members had also spotted the two Red Sleeve soldiers and rushed toward them. One of the Windrider Guards, swift as a leopard, took the lead. When he was a hundred meters off, he flung a handful of iron pellets.

He was a master who had broken his limits four times; the iron pellets shot through the air like bullets toward Lu Yan and his group.

They had no choice but to muster their vital energy and blood, blocking with palms or fists. Lu Yan revealed the strength of someone who had broken his limits twice. After all, having been chosen for this anti-bandit operation, there was no need to hide everything; showing some strength would make things easier.

The iron pellets were knocked aside by Lu Yan and the others.

“One at four breaks, one at three, and three at two. We can take them,” the Wu clan’s confidence swelled.

The iron pellet barrage had served two purposes: to probe Lu Yan’s group and force them to reveal their cultivation, and to slow them down.

It worked. While they were delayed by the attack, the Wu clan men closed in. The leader charged to the front.

With a leap, he descended like a steel pillar, legs crashing down at Ma Pengfei. Clearly, this man specialized in leg techniques.

“Signal the others!” Ma Pengfei barked, meeting the attack with his fist. The two clashed.

A Crimson Guard snatched up a whistle and blew. The warbling note, sounding like a bird’s call, was the Liu clan’s secret signal; upon hearing it, allies could rush to assist.

Immediately, the Wu clan responded with their own signal, the sound carrying into the distance. Only members of the Liu or Wu clans could distinguish these calls; to others, it was just birdsong.

“You three hold the line, don’t let them escape. Leave these four Crimson Guards to me—it’s good practice,” announced the young Wu scion, striding forward. His arms and hands swelled alarmingly, muscles bulging so that his forearms thickened by a full circle and his hands grew to the size of fan leaves.

With a roar, he struck at a Crimson Guard who had broken his limits three times, his slap cutting through the air with terrifying force.

The Crimson Guard dared not be careless and defended with all his might. Even so, after a single exchange, he was shaken violently, forced back a dozen steps, his hand trembling uncontrollably.

“A three-break, yet so fragile,” the Wu youth sneered. He himself had only broken his limits twice, yet had overpowered a three-break opponent—enough to fill him with pride.

He pressed his attack, striking next at a Crimson Guard of the second tier. The man couldn’t withstand the blow and was sent flying, arm broken, coughing blood—a breath away from death.

Without a glance, the youth swung his massive hand again—this time at Lu Yan.

Lu Yan stepped aside, body shifting a meter, evading the strike.

Missing his mark, the Wu youth’s gaze turned cold, killing intent surfacing. His enormous hands lashed out in rapid succession, muscles knotted like gnarled roots, monstrous and suffocating, leaving Lu Yan no room to escape.

Lu Yan was forced to meet him head-on. Having merged his techniques into “Gale Hands,” his fists no longer bore the black lines of the Iron Thread Fist.

Bang! Bang! Two exchanges, and Lu Yan retreated five steps.

“So this is the Wu clan’s top-tier martial art—Earth Bear Strikes. Truly formidable,” Lu Yan murmured inwardly.

The vital energy cultivated by a first-rate technique was as solid as steel; ordinary inner strength would be pierced in a clash. The difference was like steel and dead wood—utterly incomparable.

Of course, Lu Yan had only displayed the vital energy of a regular two-break martial artist; he had held back the true power of his Gale Hands. His five-step retreat was an act. Otherwise, even a two-break practitioner with a top-tier art could not have forced him back.

Seeing Lu Yan unscathed after two rounds, the Wu youth’s murderous intent intensified. His pride was wounded. On this expedition, he’d been full of confidence—besides the Liu clan’s heirs, he’d scorned all others. To him, Crimson Guards were trash.

But now, even a Crimson Guard of equal level was beyond his grasp. If word reached the Wu clan, he’d be a laughingstock.

Lu Yan had to die.

“Kill!” The Wu youth locked onto Lu Yan, giant hands striking again and again, intent on smashing him to a pulp.

Lu Yan parried a few more blows, steadily retreating, feigning weakness, then suddenly turned and fled.

Ahead, a Windrider Guard of the second tier tried to block him, but Lu Yan knocked him aside with a single punch, seizing the chance to break out of the encirclement and dash into the forest ahead.

“Don’t think you can get away, boy! You’re dead today!” The Wu youth’s eyes were bloodshot as he pursued relentlessly.

“What a hothouse flower—weak of mind, his composure shatters so easily. But such people are the easiest to handle,” Lu Yan thought to himself.

“Young master is chasing him alone, that could be dangerous. Shi Long, follow and assist him,” the Windrider Guard at the fourth tier commanded.

A third-tier Windrider Guard immediately followed in pursuit of Lu Yan and the Wu youth.

The three figures vanished into the dense forest.

After several miles, with the Wu youth still in pursuit, Lu Yan finally stopped and turned.

“Why’d you stop running, boy? Die!” the Wu youth roared, charging forward with an open-palmed strike.

Lu Yan met him, palm to palm.

Crack! The Wu youth’s hand contorted, bones shattered, and he staggered back, howling in pain.

“You… how?” he gasped, eyes wide in terror.

With a surge of vital energy, Lu Yan channeled power from the meridians of his feet through the twelve main channels to his palms. He lunged forward like a gust of wind, chopping the Wu youth’s throat.

The youth’s neck snapped, his head nearly flying off, hanging by a strip of flesh.

The Windrider Guard following behind was shocked. Without hesitation, he turned to flee. Years in the underworld had taught him caution—unlike the inexperienced Wu youth, he recognized at once that Lu Yan had been hiding his strength, and that he was no match. Escape was the only option.

Unfortunately, he was much slower than Lu Yan.

Usually, Crimson and Windrider Guards trained in two martial arts; many dabbled in leg techniques, but most focused on one discipline, using the other only as support—their proficiency was shallow, no match for Lu Yan.

In a few breaths, Lu Yan caught up. Realizing he couldn’t escape, the Windrider Guard turned to fight, but his fate was sealed—Lu Yan killed him with a single blow.

Searching their bodies, Lu Yan found only a few broken pieces of silver, which made him mutter in irritation. Clearly, no one brought silver when heading into the mountains to fight bandits. Still swearing under his breath, he pocketed the silver.

Even a mosquito is meat, after all.