Chapter Eight: The Golden Axe Guild

"Speak. Who sent you?" Xu Miao demanded, her hand gripping the throat of the black-clad man called Third.

Like the one before him, Third struggled desperately against her choking grasp.

"If you don't answer, you'll end up just like the last one," Xu Miao's voice was cold as ice.

"Even if it kills me, I won't talk," Third forced out between clenched teeth.

"Then die, if you wish."

With a twist of her right hand, the man’s resistance faded, his arms falling limply to his sides. She tossed the corpse away without a second glance, then turned to the last remaining black-clad man—Second.

"And you?" Xu Miao asked.

Second was trembling so violently from what he had just witnessed that he couldn't form words. Xu Miao strode over, grabbing him by the throat and hoisting him from the ground just as she had the others. As she lifted him, she noticed a puddle beneath his feet.

She looked at her captive; his lower garments were soaked, and droplets still fell from him.

"Pathetic," Xu Miao sneered.

"Don't... don't kill me. I—I’ll talk, I’ll talk," the man stammered, terror making his words stumble.

"Then speak up. My patience is almost gone," Xu Miao said expressionlessly.

"We're... we're from the Golden Axe Gang," the man stammered.

"The Golden Axe Gang? The one on the mountain nearby?" Xu Miao asked, considering.

"Yes... that's us," the man replied.

"Why try to assassinate us?" Xu Miao pressed.

"I don't know! I was just sent to run errands," Second replied desperately.

Xu Miao's hand tightened, and the man felt his breath constrict. Knowing his answer had not satisfied her, he quickly added, "Wait! When I was on watch the other night, I saw a man come up the mountain in the middle of the night—he seemed to have business with our boss."

"Oh? Who?" Xu Miao paused, easing her grip slightly.

Relieved, the man gasped for air. "I didn't see clearly. I just remember he was a man, wearing pale robes, around forty years old or so."

"A man in his forties?" Xu Miao asked.

"That's right, he should be," the man confirmed hastily.

"Anything else?" Xu Miao pressed.

"Nothing else," the man replied quickly.

"Are you sure?" Xu Miao asked, skeptical, her hand tightening again.

"Really, that's all!" the man choked out, barely able to speak.

With a thud, Lu Zhe released him, tossing him to the ground. He turned away, drawing in the aura he had released, and glanced at the doorway. Turning back, he asked, "You said there were more of you who came?"

The black-clad man started in alarm, about to speak, but realized the young man before him had vanished into thin air.

"Who are you? What are you doing? Ah!"

"Kill that brat! Ah!"

Screams echoed from outside, each one chill as winter wind, making the listeners' skin crawl.

Before long, the closed doors of the dining hall creaked open. Xu Miao sauntered in, her gait unhurried.

"Go back and tell your boss—remember what happened here tonight," Lu Zhe said coldly to the black-clad man crumpled on the floor.

The man scrambled up, panic-stricken, and fled in disgrace.

Watching him disappear, Xu Miao moved to stand beside Xue Ling'er. She glanced at the young woman, whose inner garment—damp and clinging—was all that remained after her ordeal. The white fabric, soaked with sweat, left little to the imagination.

Xu Miao bent down, picked up Xue Ling’er's discarded outer clothes, and tossed them to her, covering her exposed form.

It was only then, as the garment settled over her, that Xue Ling'er realized how much she had been exposed. Her face flushed with shame as she quickly covered herself.

Leaving her to recover, Xu Miao went to Old Six, crouching to inspect his wound. "It's nothing serious—just a scratch. Apply some medicine and rest a few days," she said offhandedly.

Old Six said nothing, struggling to his feet and casting a strange look at the youth before him.

Xu Miao ignored him and straightened. "Do you know of the Golden Axe Gang?"

"The Golden Axe Gang are mountain bandits near Qingxi Town. Usually, they just rob merchants—rarely do they attack homes. I don't know why they'd do such a thing today," Old Six replied after a moment's thought.

"And their strength?" Xu Miao continued.

"It's said their leader is a genuine Great Spirit Master," Old Six replied.

"A Great Spirit Master?" Xu Miao mused, stroking her chin.

As Xu Miao pondered, Old Six studied him. The shock this youth had brought them was beyond measure; Old Six now wondered if the smiling, gentle youth he knew was truly the same person.

"Since that's the case, I'll take my leave. See to the bodies outside tomorrow," Xu Miao said, ending her reverie.

"Ah? Very well. For what happened today, I’ll apologize another day," Old Six replied, startled.

Xu Miao paid his words no mind, striding out the dining hall doors and vanishing from sight before their stunned eyes.

After Xu Miao left, Old Six crossed his legs and lightly rubbed his injured thigh.

"Heh, truly an unexpected turn. Well, let's see how you handle them," Old Six chuckled softly, eyes fixed on the hall doors.

With a wave of his hand, the wound on his leg vanished without a trace.

On the mountain near Qingxi Town, a fortress blazed with light. In its grand hall, a burly man in his forties sat at the head, bare-chested and heavily scarred—an intimidating sight. On either side stood rows of men, and before them, a black-clad man knelt.

"Are you telling the truth?" the man asked, leaning on the arm of his chair.

"It's true, I saw it with my own eyes," the kneeling man replied, voice trembling.

"So that boy is a Great Spirit Master?" the leader asked again.

"He should be," the man said.

At those words, the leader slammed his hand on the chair, a surge of powerful spirit energy bursting from him and spreading through the hall, making all present blanch.

"Calm yourself, Chief," an elderly man at his left intoned.

This man, perhaps fifty or sixty, had white hair and a flowing beard, a fan in his hand—he looked every bit the strategist.

"What do you advise, Adviser?" The leader slowly drew back his power and rubbed his temples.

"In my opinion, we should not act rashly. We know nothing of his background. If we make a move and fail, we could lose far more than we gain," the adviser said, stroking his beard.

"You mean I, the Golden Axe King, should just swallow this insult?" the leader demanded.

The adviser nodded.

"Absurd! If word gets out that my men were killed and I did nothing, how can I hold my head up?" the leader roared.

"Chief, that's not what I mean," the adviser said. "Think about it—if what Third says is true, and you defeat the boy yourself, his teacher will surely not let it rest. Remember, for someone to become a Great Spirit Master at fifteen, his teacher must be someone extraordinary."

"But I can't just let this go," the leader protested.

"We can send scouts to investigate. Once we know his background, we can act accordingly. If we truly can't touch him, we have no choice but to accept our loss," the adviser said, fanning himself.

"Damn it, what rotten luck. If I'd known, I wouldn't have taken this job. Not only did we fail to kill him, we lost two fine men," the leader cursed.

As they discussed, not far from the fortress, a shadowy figure appeared, gazing at the brightly lit stronghold with a chilling smile.

(Apologies, everyone. I meant to update at midnight, but something came up and delayed me. If you enjoy my writing, please consider recommending it. Your support means the world to me.)