My Journey to Immortality Begins with Hunting-Chapter 114 - I Keep the Lantern, You Wield the Blade - Part 2

Once the two were away from curious eyes, Pang Yuanhua spoke in a low voice. “Pang Han, if we see a herd of wild beasts suddenly fleeing down the mountains, why do you think that would happen?”

“Huh?” Pang Han blinked. “Why? If they’re running, they’re running. It means more meat for us to hunt! Our people are starving, after all.”

Pang Yuanhua stifled a laugh that quickly turned somber. “In times like these, big fish eat little fish, little fish eat shrimp. If a big fish appears, little fish scatter. If a little fish appears, shrimp scatter. Tell me, the Fragrant General has camped in the wild for ages, so why the sudden rush to attack our township this past week?”

As the two women walked on, the white finch on a high branch prepared to quietly fly away.

Pang Han stiffened, sensing movement. She smirked, sword flashing as if she intended to cut the bird down.

However, Pang Yuanhua grabbed her wrist.

“What’s the matter?” Pang Han asked. “If our townsfolk are this starved, any wild bird around would be good for roasting. Just a sprinkle of salt...”

Pang Yuanhua hadn’t paid the finch any particular attention—until this moment. Now, she stared at it. Faintly, she glimpsed a barely visible thread clinging to the bird, trailing off somewhere in the distance.

Ever since her frightening experience investigating the carpenter’s home, Pang Yuanhua’s body had deteriorated. She might not have much time left. Yet she’d gained peculiar abilities, like glimpsing the soul within a body, or watching the weak souls of the sick wavering on the brink, or seeing the souls of the newly dead drift free.

And now, from the little bird, she saw that same dreamlike gleam of spiritual energy—a thin strand tying it to some distant entity, too far away to trace.

Suddenly, Pang Yuanhua shouted, “Hey! You up there. Want to make a deal? Senior! Senior!”

The finch flew off without a backward glance. Pang Yuanhua’s cries, echoing in the cold air, nearly cost her the last of her breath. Panting, she clutched her chest, and Pang Han stood by in stunned confusion. A rueful smile tugged at Pang Han’s lips, quickly replaced by concern for her ailing mistress.

Gasping for air, Pang Yuanhua finally steadied herself.

“Pang Han,” she rasped.

“What is it?”

“Help me to the Frost Sword Sect. I need to see my junior disciple.”

Pang Han knew exactly who she meant. She snorted. “That turncoat? She can’t wait for you to die so she can seize power over the Frost Sword Sect.”

“I won’t live much longer anyway,” Pang Yuanhua murmured. “She was always going to take charge.”

“Don’t give up,” Pang Han pleaded, her tone urgent. “There has to be a way. We’ll find it.”

Pang Yuanhua lifted a trembling hand. “A single twig snaps easily. But if we bind them together, they’re not so quick to break. The Fragrant General is racing against time...so we must do the same.”

“What do you mean?” asked Pang Han, puzzled.

Pang Yuanhua spoke plainly, “Southsky, Gemhill, Flowerpath—three counties, side by side. We need to form an alliance with the other two. Together, we can resist outside threats.”

As she spoke, she glanced around again. And in the sky, though the white finch had already flown beyond sight, she smiled faintly and called out, “Senior, my name is Pang Yuanhua! What do you think?”

Her words and reasoning carried clearly into Li Yuan’s mind, and he mulled them over. So that woman can see spiritual bonds?

Regardless, Pang Yuanhua had a point. The Fragrant General had been roaming the wilderness for ages before suddenly making a push to capture a county. That likely meant he was aware of an even more fearsome threat closing in, prompting him to secure a fortified base as soon as possible. So indeed, the three-county alliance was not a bad idea.

But what was the Fragrant General afraid of? Whoever was coming...could they be sixth rank?

Li Yuan knew well that the higher one’s rank, the more power one wielded. Massive armies became less relevant against such might. Feeling a twinge of unease, he guided the finch high above the Fragrant General’s retreating army, careful to stay out of range.

Eventually, the bandit general halted his forces a dozen miles away and reestablished camp. Li Yuan watched from the finch’s vantage point as the Fragrant General stomped out of his tent, face twisting with equal parts rage and terror.

“Why was the Orange Blossom Sect in Flowerpath County? Why?!” He paced, breath ragged. “Zhao Xiantong is almost here... He’s almost here... I don’t want to face him, I don’t... If I can’t take a county soon, I’ll have no choice but to surrender to him. Dammit!”

Perched in a tangle of grayish branches, the finch listened quietly. Meanwhile, Li Yuan sat before the warmth of his brazier, rocking in his chair. Anyone seeing him would assume he was practicing some new beast taming technique in solitude and wouldn’t disturb him.

But opening his eyes, Li Yuan muttered, “Zhao Xiantong...”

Who else could so thoroughly frighten a seventh rank fighter? Only sixth rank, or even beyond.

“No,” Li Yuan reasoned to himself, “if it were fifth rank or above, the Fragrant General wouldn’t dream of resisting.”

So Zhao Xiantong was most likely a sixth rank powerhouse, on his way here.

The rocking chair continued its gentle creaking until Li Yuan stood abruptly, threw on his coat, grabbed a jar of wine, and climbed into his carriage. Heading for the black market, he sought out Senior Li for a chat about the Red Lotus Rebels. During their talk, he casually mentioned the Fragrant General and Zhao Xiantong.

Senior Li explained, “The Fragrant General is quite strong. He should be on par with Tie Sha. Word is he’s taken over a mountain stronghold and is currently at war with the Flowerpath County. But he does seem a bit desperate...

“As for Zhao Xiantong, a few years back he was already a formidable seventh rank in the Red Lotus Rebels, practically near the top of that rank. Assuming he’s still alive, he’s likely broken into sixth rank by now.”

Li Yuan felt a surge of apprehension. Zhao Xiantong, newly returned from the central regions—probably wounded or outmaneuvered in some internal power struggle—was a high-level threat.

If Zhao Xiantong absorbed the Fragrant General’s 3,000 man force, they’d become even deadlier.

Pang Yuanhua’s words echoed in Li Yuan’s mind. “A single twig snaps easily... Bound together, stronger...” he muttered to himself.

Just the Fragrant General alone had been enough to menace Flowerpath County. If he and Zhao Xiantong joined forces, the three counties—Gemhill, Southsky, and Flowerpath—would be under grave threat.

Li Yuan pictured cunning strategies like feigning an eastern attack only to strike west, breaking defenses piece by piece. Once a single county fell, the others would be doomed in sequence.

His pulse quickened. No. I can’t just let that happen! Better to eliminate the Fragrant General now, before Zhao Xiantong arrived to absorb his forces.

A week ago, the Fragrant General’s 3,000-man army was still in good condition. But after continuous combat, their numbers were down, many wounded.

Meanwhile, Li Yuan had his finch serving as a mobile scout. It might just be possible.

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Two days later, at twilight, three horses galloped through Gemhill County’s gates and reached the inner district. The three female riders dismounted, clasping their fists in greeting, and projected their voices with inner power.

“From Frost Sword Sect in Flowerpath County! We request an audience with Sect Master Tie!”

Their voices boomed like thunder, announcing that these were no ordinary travelers. Even the servants recognized the Frost Sword Sect, famous across the neighboring county, as the local equivalent of Gemhill County’s Blood Blade Sect.

Soon, a runner rushed to inform Tie Sha, and in short order, the three women were led inside the inner district. Meanwhile, a parallel scene played out in Southsky County with the Orange Blossom Sect.

Inside the Blood Fury Hall, the trio took their seats.

Before long, a man in a white robe with a bristling beard appeared. It was none other than Tie Sha.

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The lead woman introduced herself, “I am Pang Sanniang of the Frost Sword Sect. Greetings to Sect Master Tie.”

Her companions followed suit with bows of respect.

Tie Sha regarded the three visitors. “I’ve heard of Elder Pang from the Frost Sword Sect. May I ask what brings you here today?”

Pang Sanniang stepped forward. “By order of my lady, I’ve come to lay out the dire circumstances we all face. We hope to form an alliance with your sect to defend against outside enemies.”

“Your lady?” Tie Sha mulled this over. “That would be Pang Yuanhua, your deputy sect master known for her flawless strategies?”

He spoke the phrase flawless strategies in a matter-of-fact tone, without the slightest hint of scorn.

Pang Sanniang showed no pretense of modesty, only pride. “Indeed.”

Tie Sha inclined his head solemnly. “Then I’m all ears.”

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Elsewhere, under the open sky, a lone rider urged his horse across barren roads.

The man wore a cheap copper mask and a threadbare gray robe. He carried no visible weapon, and aside from the wide sleeves of his robe, nothing about him stood out. One might easily mistake him for a simple traveler.

Yet he rode with unwavering purpose, weaving between main roads and byways, sometimes cutting straight through woodland.

By nightfall, under a bright moon, he finally tugged the reins, tying his horse to an old tree. Then, lowering his stance like a midnight panther, he vanished into the shadows.

This mysterious figure was none other than Li Yuan.