Chapter 40: Chapter 40
“Quick — send for Li Suifeng and Elder Qi!”
Ma Hua barked orders in rapid succession.
Two sixth-rank masters besieging the Helmsman — ordinary Canal Gang disciples were useless here. Right now, the only people in the entire branch who could hold off a sixth-rank fighter long enough for the Helmsman to regroup were the three seventh-rank fighters.
“Yes, sir!”
Several disciples sprinted for the compound gates.
They’d barely crossed the threshold.
WHOOSH! WHOOSH!
Arrows screamed out of the darkness, punching through their bodies. The survivors came rolling and crawling back inside.
“Sir — we can’t! There are archers out there. Going out now is suicide!”
A disciple who’d narrowly escaped with his life scrambled to Ma Hua’s side, gasping.
“Useless!”
Ma Hua cursed and charged for the gates himself, short sword in hand.
WHOOSH!
An arrow shrieked toward him.
CLANG!
One slash split the arrow down the middle.
Ma Hua was fast — dodging and weaving past several more bolts in quick succession.
“Damn it — don’t let him call for help!”
A shout from somewhere in the darkness.
A powerful figure dropped from a rooftop and barreled toward Ma Hua.
“Divine Fist Gate — Wu Ming?”
Ma Hua tensed. As the Divine Fist Gate’s chief disciple, Wu Ming’s iron fists were well-known across Nanyang. Even Ma Hua couldn’t guarantee a clean win — and there were more Divine Fist Gate fighters lying in ambush nearby.
End this fast.
The thought flashed through his mind.
He held no official position within the branch. If the Helmsman died, he lost everything.
His only option was to find Li Suifeng.
“Think you’re going somewhere?”
Wu Ming roared. True qi surged through his body, swelling his lean frame. He became a blur, his iron fists whistling as they descended on Ma Hua’s skull.
“You’re the one looking for death!”
Ma Hua howled back. One hand rose to meet Wu Ming’s fists. The other drove his short sword straight at Wu Ming’s chest.
He was going all in — trading wound for wound. Kill Wu Ming, escape, and even if he couldn’t find Li Suifeng, at least he’d survive.
WHAM!
A force like a collapsing mountain slammed through his left arm. He grunted.
The arm he’d used to block Wu Ming’s punch had snapped. But his short sword had raked across Wu Ming’s chest, opening a wound that drenched the man’s front in blood.
Ma Hua broke off instantly, bolting in a different direction.
“Senior Brother Wu — are you alright?”
“Senior Brother?”
Several Divine Fist Gate disciples rushed over, alarmed by Wu Ming’s pallid face.
“I’ll live.”
Wu Ming sealed the major pressure points around his chest while his men applied wound powder to the gash — a two-inch laceration.
“Damn. Ma Hua got away.” One of the disciples cursed.
“If Ma Hua were dead, the Canal Gang branch would only have that bastard Li Suifeng and Qi Hu left.”
“Then it’d be easy.”
…
After putting a street between himself and the ambush zone, Ma Hua allowed himself to breathe.
“Cost me.”
“This arm — at least half a year before it’s usable.”
He muttered, then spotted a figure walking toward him from down the road.
When he recognized the face, the tension drained from his body. He spoke urgently:
“Elder Li — Jin Buhuan of the Three Rivers Fortress and Ba Hu of the Divine Fist Gate have joined forces! They’re attacking the Helmsman at the branch! We need to get over there — send your people to fetch Elder Qi!”
“No need.” Li Suifeng shook his head, still walking toward Ma Hua.
Hm?
Ma Hua frowned. “Elder Li — your martial arts are impressive, but there are two sixth-rank masters over there. What we need to do is hold one of them down so the Helmsman can—”
His words died in his throat.
Li Suifeng was suddenly charging at him.
Not good!
The thought barely had time to form before Ma Hua’s right hand drove his short sword at Li Suifeng.
Two fingers pressed together. Arriving second but striking first, they clamped the blade with pinpoint precision.
Ma Hua released the sword and threw himself backward.
SQUELCH!
The short sword shot forward like a bolt and punched clean through Ma Hua’s chest.
“Why?”
Ma Hua collapsed. Blood poured from his mouth in a ceaseless stream. Moments later, his eyes went glassy.
“Because I want Liu Zhenhe dead too.”
Li Suifeng dropped the words behind him and walked toward the branch.
…
Inside the compound, Liu Zhenhe was reaching his limit.
Ba Hu and Jin Buhuan knew as well — if Liu Zhenhe survived tonight, they’d never know peace again. Both had committed fully, willing to take a staff-blow to the body if it meant landing their own strikes.
By now, Liu Zhenhe’s body bore over a dozen saber wounds.
Blood had soaked the better part of his clothes.
“What do we do?”
“Do we shoot?”
Lei Yun’s voice quavered.
With Ma Hua gone, only he and Yuan Hai — two eighth-rank retainers — remained. The Helmsman was clearly losing ground.
He could see it: the Helmsman’s hands trembled on the staff.
Yuan Hai shook his head.
“The Helmsman is tangled up with them at close range. If we loose the crossbows now, we might hit him.”
“If the Helmsman can create some distance, we fire all three heavy crossbows at Jin Buhuan and Ba Hu together.”
These three crossbows were military-grade equipment, requiring two ninth-rank men each to draw. Their bolts could pierce a seventh-rank fighter’s true qi barrier — a genuine threat even to stronger opponents.
“Boss Li is here!”
At that moment, a shout erupted from the outer perimeter.
A lone figure came striding down the street toward the compound.
“It’s Boss Li!”
Yuan Hai exhaled. He knew Li Suifeng’s real strength. Even if Li Suifeng couldn’t save the Helmsman outright, he might at least evacuate some of the brothers.
“So you’re Li Suifeng?”
TWANG!
A bowstring hummed. Several arrows streaked toward Li Suifeng.
Li Suifeng snatched them from the air with a casual grab.
FWIP!
A flick of the wrist, and the arrows reversed course — faster than they’d come.
SHUNK! SHUNK! SHUNK!
Several bodies tumbled from the surrounding rooftops, hitting the ground without a sound.
“Damn him!”
“Kill him — avenge Uncle Zhuo!”
Dozens of Divine Fist Gate fighters poured from hiding, converging on Li Suifeng.
“Go — support Boss Li!”
“Boss Li took out the archers! Nothing to be afraid of now!”
Canal Gang disciples surged out of the compound gates like men possessed, charging toward the melee.
“Out of the way. I’ll handle this.”
WHAM!
Li Suifeng threw a single palm strike. A howling blast of palm-wind erupted outward.
The Divine Fist Gate fighters at the front of the charge were blasted off their feet, blood spraying from their mouths as they crashed to the ground.