Chapter 15: The Gleam of Blades Amidst the Tempest
This novel is translated and hosted on BCatranslation
The wind howled like a chorus of lost souls, tearing through the trees on the mountainside and snapping branches as it surged higher and higher. Snow swirled up from the forest floor, mixing with fresh flakes falling from the pitch-black sky, turning the world into a vast sea of swirling white and dark shadows. The earth and sky seemed to merge into one endless, churning ocean of snow.
Qin Ming moved through the storm like a ghost, a lone figure against the storm’s fury. He reached the base of the mountain peak where the patrol had set up camp, squinting as the biting wind slashed across his face like a knife.
He had taken a bow and some arrows from his enemies. Though this bow was a “soft bow” to him—it lacked the power he preferred—it was still far better than the rough iron bow he’d been using before. The wind and snow whipped at his face, making him squint against it. His breath came out in quick, visible puffs that vanished into the stormy air.
He stopped for a moment and stripped off his thick outer clothes to move more quietly and swiftly. He put on his armor and then a thin outer robe, which billowed in the wind like a dark shadowy cape. He buried the bow, arrows, and his bundle in a hollow under the snow, weighing them down with heavy stones. With the four iron spears he’d taken from the patrol, he began his climb, the spears glinting faintly in the dim light.
Qin Ming climbed silently, moving higher until he was just a few dozen steps from the flat area where the patrol had camped. The wind howled around him, but his steps were steady, his eyes sharp and focused.
If it hadn’t been for the raging wind and swirling snow, the golden hound—big as a wild tiger—would have already caught the scent of an intruder. Still, it sensed something was off. Its ears, marked with streaks of gold, pricked up as it sniffed the freezing air.
Inside one of the larger wooden huts, a fire crackled, casting a warm light that seeped through the frost-covered windows. Shadows of men moved behind the panes. In the bitter cold, they drank, their laughter muffled by the storm. They feasted on hot meat cooked in a copper pot over glowing coals, and for a moment, the rich smell reached Qin Ming on a gust of wind.
“The Flame Spring in the Blood Bamboo Grove is dying out,” one of them said, his voice barely audible over the wailing wind. “It’s the perfect time to deal with that spirit beast. We need to prepare…”
Qin Ming’s ears perked up at this. He wanted to hear more. Some among the patrol were aiming for a second awakening and had set their sights on a certain creature in the mountains. But he couldn’t eavesdrop any longer. The golden hound had emerged from its kennel. Its sharp eyes cut through the veil of snow, a low growl rumbling in its throat before it opened its jaws to howl.
Quick as a flash, Qin Ming drew his bow, the cold wood creaking in his grip. He aimed at the window where the largest figure sat and released one arrow after another. Iron shafts flew through the night like bolts of lightning, whistling as they pierced the wooden walls.
A muffled cry sounded from inside. Then all the shadows dropped, and the windows and doors flew open. Several figures rushed out, using tables and doors as makeshift shields against the unseen attacker. They took cover behind trees and rocks, their eyes sharp, searching the darkness for their hidden enemy.
The golden hound barked fiercely, its roar scattering the snowflakes in front of it. Its massive form surged with power as it charged toward Qin Ming, muscles rippling beneath its thick fur.
Qin Ming ignored the mutated hound for the moment. His iron arrows rained down like a storm on one man alone—Fu En Tao, the burly leader, whose second awakening made him the most dangerous of them all.
He didn’t care about the other patrollers; only someone who had undergone a double awakening was a real threat. If he could wound him, it would mean more than taking down the others first. His arrows flew true, but Fu En Tao was only hit once, and even then, only lightly. The special armor he wore provided solid protection; the arrow went in just half an inch, barely drawing blood.
Fu En Tao then swung his long blade, deflecting most of the arrows with swift, practiced moves. Using the trees as cover, he advanced quickly, his eyes narrowed with focus.
From the strength of the arrows, he assessed his foe. “This one hasn’t had a second awakening,” he muttered to himself. “Not someone too tough to handle.”
It wasn’t that Qin Ming lacked strength; it was that the patrol’s bow couldn’t handle the power of his thousand-pound draw. In the end, he had pulled it apart, the wood splintering in his hands. He threw it aside without concern.
The mutated hound, its body marked with gold and black spots, was now close. Leaping high, it lunged at Qin Ming, white mist billowing from its open jaws, sharp fangs gleaming like knives. Its roar shook the forest, a sound filled with savage power.
But Qin Ming remained calm. In a swift motion, he grabbed one of the iron spears. The hound’s massive form froze in mid-air, its roar cut short. An iron spear, thrown with deadly speed and precision, pierced its skull, splattering blood onto the snow. The fierce light in its eyes dimmed in an instant.
This mutated beast was no ordinary opponent. It could give even an awakened warrior a hard time. But Qin Ming had taken it down with a single spear throw—killed in the blink of an eye!
With a heavy thud, it fell onto the snow, five paces in front of Qin Ming. He didn’t spare it a glance, his gaze fixed on his real enemies.
In the distance, Feng Yian saw the hound’s body hit the ground and cried out, “Goldie!”
A wave of anger rose within Qin Ming. So, he thought bitterly, to these people, the lives of villagers beyond the mountain meant less than a beast. They mourned a hound yet showed no mercy to the innocent.
He swung his right arm, throwing another iron spear. It flew through the wind and snow with a chilling sound, heading straight for Feng Yian.
The bearded patroller, who was hoping for a second awakening, reacted fast. His strong body shifted to the side, and with a burst of strength, he swung his long blade to cleave the incoming spear.
With a loud clang and a shower of sparks, Feng Yian felt his whole arm go numb. His right hand trembled on the hilt, almost losing his grip. He was stunned.
“What kind of strength is this?” he gasped, his eyes wide. The spear brushed past him and flew into a wooden hut, where it shattered the thick door upon impact, splinters exploding outward.
Meanwhile, Fu En Tao, nearly seven feet tall, stomped through the snow, sending it flying with each step. His speed was astonishing; he was less than thirty feet from Qin Ming.
Waiting for him was one of the patrol’s specially made iron spears, like a venomous snake in the night, darting toward him with deadly intent.
Being a double awakener, Fu En Tao’s senses were sharp. He saw the spear’s path clearly. Not wanting to waste any energy, he shifted his tall frame slightly, easily dodging it. His feet didn’t stop, charging toward his enemy like the wind.
He had dodged the spear, but behind him, another patroller followed, ten paces back, becoming the next target.
This was Qin Ming’s plan. If Fu En Tao blocked the spear, fine. But if he dodged it, the spear would hit the one following him, whose sight was blocked from the front.
“Ah!” The man behind screamed as the iron spear pierced his chest. Though he wore armor, it couldn’t stop the spear; it shattered instantly, pieces flying like dark snow.
Yet this obstacle changed the spear’s course. With a dull thud, the spear, slightly off its original path, pinned the patroller to a tree as thick as a barrel. Blood flowed along the spear shaft, staining the snow a dark red.
He struggled, gasping for air, his eyes wide with fear. It was clear he wouldn’t survive.
Behind, Feng Yian and Shao Cheng Feng felt a chill run down their spines, as if they themselves were nailed to that tree. Without realizing it, they took several steps back, fear creeping into their hearts.
Fu En Tao knew what had happened behind him, his face grim. Ten paces were just a leap for him. He wouldn’t be stopped.
His curly black hair flowed behind him in the icy wind, his beast-hide cloak flapping like the wings of a great bird. Nearly seven feet tall, he wielded a specially crafted long blade, broader and sharper than most. He brought it down as if to cleave a mountain, fierce beyond measure.
Qin Ming, still as a rock when motionless, moved now like a lightning bolt—quick and fierce. He shifted slightly, avoiding the terrifying blade by a hair’s breadth. With his left hand gripping the last iron spear, he struck the blade from the side, deflecting its course with a resounding clash.
Fu En Tao was caught off guard, his eyes narrowing. He realized this was not someone he could easily deal with; perhaps this youth was also a double awakener.
“Who is this kid?” he thought, a flicker of doubt crossing his mind. “He moves with the power of a warrior, yet he’s just a boy.”
He pressed down on his blade, trying to push the spear aside and continue his slash. But he met strong resistance. Qin Ming’s grip was firm, his eyes calm and focused.
“Not bad for an old man,” Qin Ming said suddenly, his voice youthful but edged with steel. “But you’ll have to try harder.”
Fu En Tao’s eyes widened at the taunt. “You cheeky little brat!” he growled. “You dare mock me?”
Qin Ming smirked, his confidence unshaken. “I dare a lot more than that.”
He used the iron spear in his left hand, pressing against the blade, sparks flying, holding the long blade at bay. He moved straight in, his right hand raising a chopping knife toward Fu En Tao’s unprotected chest.
Fu En Tao’s pupils shrank. His heavy long blade in his right hand couldn’t force back the spear. For the first time, he felt truly threatened, facing a young opponent who was far more formidable than he’d expected.
On his left arm, he wore an obsidian bracer engraved with beast patterns. Swiftly, he raised it to block the chopping knife. The clash rang out sharply, echoing through the storm-laden forest.
He seized the chance to retreat quickly, like wind and thunder, the snow swirling around him. He shook off the slight disadvantage from their first exchange, his mind racing as he looked down at the tingling sensation in his arm. There, he saw cracks in his bracer, nearly split apart—not because Qin Ming’s blade was overly sharp, but because the sheer force had fractured it.
Having misjudged the strength of the earlier arrows, he had thought to kill this archer quickly. Now, he began to take his opponent seriously.
“Who are you, and why do you attack us?” Fu En Tao demanded, his voice cutting through the storm. Earlier, seeing Qin Ming’s young face, he’d thought him just a rash, hot-headed youth, someone to cripple before questioning. Now, he wasn’t so sure.
Qin Ming met his gaze squarely. “You don’t know who I am?” he replied, his tone defiant. “Maybe you should pay more attention to the people you step on.”
Fu En Tao frowned, becoming more uncertain. So young—could he be a noble from Scarlet Dawn City? But his clothes didn’t suggest that.
“Enough with the riddles!” he snapped. “Tell me your name!”
Qin Ming’s eyes flared. “I am Qin Ming of Twin Trees Village,” he declared. “And I’m here to get justice for those you’ve wronged.”
At this, Feng Yian and Shao Cheng Feng, who had been watching, exchanged shocked glances.
“Qin Ming?” Feng Yian blurted out, disbelief in his voice. “You… you’re that boy from Twin Trees Village? I thought you were just a kid!”
Qin Ming’s expression hardened. “A kid, huh? Maybe you should’ve thought twice before messing with my village.”
Shao Cheng Feng’s face went pale. “He can’t be this strong,” he murmured. “He just awakened recently…”
Fu En Tao’s eyes narrowed even more. “So, it’s revenge you want,” he said coldly. “You’re a fool, boy. You’ve gone too far.”
Qin Ming’s grip tightened on his weapons. “We’ll see who the fool is,” he shot back. “I’m not leaving until I’ve made things right.”
“Surround him!” Fu En Tao ordered sharply, his gaze never leaving Qin Ming. “Don’t let him escape! I want him alive!”
His eyes flashed with cold confidence. He wanted to boost Feng Yian and Shao Cheng Feng’s spirits, worried they might hesitate.
“Let’s all rush him and get this over with,” called another patroller, a big man who approached carefully, his blade in hand. He didn’t plan to charge in recklessly but aimed to put pressure on his enemy.
Feng Yian and Shao Cheng Feng nodded, moving to flank Qin Ming, their weapons ready.
The clash between the two combatants was fierce and deadly. The iron spear, leaving afterimages, darted through the air like a dragon and snake. The flashing blade was like lightning on a stormy night, their battle widening the field. Snow flew everywhere, the ground churned by their movements.
Feng Yian and Shao Cheng Feng’s faces turned pale. That young man named Qin Ming was so powerful. Could their leader really handle him?
“Is that all you’ve got?” Qin Ming taunted, his voice carrying over the howling wind. “I expected more from the so-called mighty patrol.”
Fu En Tao scowled. “You insolent brat!”
Qin Ming and Fu En Tao fought from the Flame Spring back into the dense forest. The three outside had to follow, carefully encircling.
In the forest, the two fighters darted past each other. The once-intact trees suddenly cracked, branches raining down on the snow, and even thick trunks toppled with loud crashes. The forest seemed to shiver under their assault.
Suddenly, in the dim light of the forest, a silver-white figure leaped down from a large tree, aiming to take Qin Ming by surprise. It was the patrol’s tamed Snow Ape, a creature of incredible strength and speed.
Qin Ming was still engaged with Fu En Tao, his back turned in that direction. The ambush from above was a dangerous move, especially with the Snow Ape’s razor-sharp claws, which could tear apart even fierce beasts. Now, it was ferocious and wild, its claws reaching for Qin Ming’s neck, swift and deadly.
But Qin Ming had already sensed the Snow Ape’s presence. After climbing the mountain, he had quietly noted its position, always on guard for surprise attacks.
As the creature lunged at him, Qin Ming moved with blinding speed. His steps were like the wind, incredibly nimble. He dodged the Snow Ape’s attack, feeling the rush of air as it passed him.
With a swift backhanded slash, he cut the fierce beast in two, his blade slicing through fur and flesh like water.
Blood sprayed as the Snow Ape screeched, its two halves hitting the snow, staining the white ground red. It lay still, death claiming it in an instant.
Fu En Tao’s eyes widened. “He took it out… in one strike?” he thought, unease beginning to creep into his heart.
Qin Ming met his gaze, his eyes blazing with fierce determination. “Your tricks won’t work,” he said quietly. “This ends now.”
The storm raged around them, but within the circle of their battle, there was a sudden stillness—a moment frozen in time.
“Big words,” Fu En Tao replied, gripping his blade tighter. “But words won’t change your fate.”
“Maybe not,” Qin Ming said with a faint smile. “But skill might.”
And with that, they clashed again, the sound of steel against steel ringing out, a defiant song against the howling wind.