Chapter Three: An Encounter with Bandits

Here in America, the territory had already been divided into four major divisions—east, west, south, and north. Each division contained twenty regions, and every region had a main city. Apart from these main cities, there were only secondary towns and villages. Everywhere else stretched endless forests and magical beasts. Professionally, there was a wide array of choices: mage, warrior, alchemist, rogue, shaman, hunter, druid, sorcerer, and paladin—nine guilds in total, where people could learn cultivation methods and skills. There were other special professions as well, though Karina was not entirely clear about them. Upon hearing this, Zhang Xiao fell into deep thought.

Comparing China to America, the guild system here seemed to provide greater support to ordinary people, and gifted individuals found it easier to stand out. In China, the nine great sects, with their internal conflicts and distinctions between inner and outer disciples, fostered intense competition and discipline. Yet, this very structure produced countless experts. According to Karina, her own level was only thirty, and her younger brother Locke was at twenty-five, but even these levels were considered above average. As they traveled, Zhang Xiao refrained from intervening when they encountered monsters—not out of laziness, but from curiosity about their combat methods. Karina would grip her staff, unleashing a flurry of ice spells, while Locke stood in front of her, shield and sword in hand, holding the monsters at bay so Karina could attack freely. After watching for a while, Zhang Xiao lost interest, finding their tactics too monotonous.

“Big brother, why aren’t you fighting?” Locke, having dispatched the monsters before him, ran over to Zhang Xiao and asked. Zhang Xiao was caught off guard by the question and momentarily at a loss for words. He certainly couldn’t admit that he could defeat those monsters with a mere flick of his finger. He wasn’t so bored as to boast his strength before Karina and Locke, nor did he wish to reveal his power too soon, especially since he was in a foreign land—a little caution wouldn’t hurt. “Locke, don’t be so rude,” Karina quickly interjected, understanding Zhang Xiao’s intent to conceal his strength and not pressing him further. Instead, she was sympathetic to his vigilance; after all, everyone is wary when suddenly thrust into an unfamiliar environment. Seeing Zhang Xiao at a loss for words, she hurried to help him out, and Zhang Xiao felt a surge of gratitude toward her.

Just as the three prepared to continue on their way, a sharp whistle suddenly echoed from all directions. Karina and Locke’s expressions changed immediately as they broke into a run, shouting, “Quick, run! It’s the Wolfhead Mercenary Corps!” Zhang Xiao didn’t know what the Wolfhead Mercenaries were, but he had no choice but to follow Karina. As they ran, Zhang Xiao secretly extended his spiritual sense and discovered they had been surrounded by dozens of people.

Three sharp arrows whistled through the forest, landing in the soil directly in front of them, blocking their path. Karina’s face turned pale, realizing they were marked, and running was futile. She could only hope the Wolfhead Mercenaries wouldn’t be too ruthless this time. Pulling Locke close, she watched the surroundings warily.

“Well, well, looks like we have a little beauty among our prey this time,” three men clad in leather armor emerged from the woods. Zhang Xiao regarded them curiously; they seemed no different from ordinary people, but he could sense an odd energy within them. Karina and Locke possessed this energy as well, though the three men’s energies were noticeably stronger than Karina’s.

“I’m willing to pay; please don’t hurt us.” Karina, not waiting for them to speak, took out a pouch and tossed it to them. The leader picked it up, opened it, and examined the contents carefully. Zhang Xiao caught a glimpse of the so-called coins—pure gold, round, with a sword embossed on them. Was America already restoring its economy? He wondered, for China was still bartering, and though Maoshan had obtained the right to mint currency, they hadn’t begun forging yet. How was America already back to monetary transactions? This perplexed Zhang Xiao.

“Not bad—three hundred gold coins, but that’s only enough for two. What will you do?” At this, Karina exclaimed, “How can that be? Isn’t it a hundred gold coins per person?” The man smiled, “Sorry, prices went up—one hundred fifty per person.” Before Karina could protest, several figures hidden in the woods emerged, weapons drawn and aimed at the three. Karina knew she had no choice and turned to Zhang Xiao apologetically. Zhang Xiao understood what was on her mind, and before she could speak, he smiled, “It’s fine. You’ve paid; you two go ahead.” Karina’s face flushed crimson, wanting to say something but unable to find the words. After all, abandoning a companion was shameful in her eyes. She could only whisper, “I’m sorry,” then hurried away with Locke. Karina’s every gesture surprised Zhang Xiao. In China, self-preservation over friendship was the norm; shame had no place in such matters. The contrast was striking.

“Ha! Yellow-skinned monkey, hand over all your money,” the leader barked at Zhang Xiao, eyes glinting wickedly. Zhang Xiao glanced around and instantly understood their intent: even if he handed over his money, they would still kill him. The murderous intent in their eyes was unmistakable. He wondered why they hated him so fiercely without reason.

“Are you mute?” A burly man strode forward, shouting, then aimed a kick at Zhang Xiao’s face. Zhang Xiao’s eyes flashed coldly; he seized the man’s ankle, tightening his grip until a cracking sound signaled the bones snapping. With a casual flick, he sent the man flying. It happened so swiftly that the others only reacted when the man crashed to the ground, howling, “My leg! Damn you, kill him, quick!”

The leader drew a broadsword and swung it at Zhang Xiao, shouting, “Kill him!” Simultaneously, dozens of arrows whistled toward Zhang Xiao. These attacks were so ordinary that Zhang Xiao didn’t even bother to dodge; he let the arrows strike. As the others watched, expecting him to be riddled like a porcupine, the arrows froze in midair, a meter from Zhang Xiao, unmoving. With a wave of his sleeve, the arrows shot back at ten times their original speed, and screams erupted as the archers were impaled by their own arrows.

“What! Is he a mage?” The leader was shocked, but he still swung his broadsword at Zhang Xiao’s head, its blade glowing yellow. Zhang Xiao’s eyes gleamed; he had finally discerned the nature of the energy within the man—it concentrated in the sword in an instant. As the sword neared, the leader’s eyes filled with excitement. This Mountain-Splitting Sword was his trump card, designed to shatter a mage’s shield. He was confident it would split the “yellow-skinned monkey” before him in two.

Yet, when the sword struck Zhang Xiao’s head, a powerful backlash surged through the blade, as if he had struck iron instead of flesh. The force tore the leader’s palm, and the sword flew from his grasp. Still, he looked at Zhang Xiao—but there was no sign of him. Then, cries of agony erupted as Zhang Xiao appeared among the mercenaries, wielding the leader’s broadsword like a toy. To the others, it became the scythe of death, reaping lives with every swing. Even without his divine footwork, Zhang Xiao’s speed was terrifying, leaving only afterimages as he moved—his foes could barely follow his movements. In the blink of an eye, the screams faded. The leader sat on the ground, staring at the corpses of his comrades, terror flooding his eyes. He scrabbled at the dirt, trying to rise, but his legs seemed drained of all strength.

As Zhang Xiao approached with a smile, the leader stammered, “No! Please, no! You’re not human, you’re a demon. Stay away!” The man was on the verge of collapse. Even the Chinese man who had once killed him was nothing compared to the horror before him. In fact, compared to Zhang Xiao, that man was an angel. Heaven help him—were all Chinese so powerful?

Just as he was about to break down, Zhang Xiao said with a smile, “Hand over all your money, then answer a few questions.” The leader breathed a sigh of relief; according to custom, paying ransom meant release. He quickly handed over all his gold coins, which Zhang Xiao pocketed with a flip of his hand, storing them in his bone ring. The leader was filled with regret—his opponent even possessed a spatial item, obviously a super expert. What had possessed him to try and rob such a man? Perhaps the gods had given him a lion’s courage.