Chapter Twenty-Four: The Ruined Temple on the Island, Followers of the Evil Sect

“But Uncle Li doesn't know that my strength now is a leap beyond what it was then.” Bai Xuan clenched his fist, a metallic resonance ringing out!

With the path of External Tempering opened, his power had undergone a complete transformation, and mastering the Vortex Force had sent his combat ability soaring madly to a level beyond comparison with the past.

Bai Xuan felt his mind inclined in a certain direction, yet he remained cool-headed, never reckless or arrogant, but instead extremely cautious.

“Better see what I have on hand.”

With a twist of his wrist, Bai Xuan checked his belongings. Other than the Cold Iron Fish Spear, he carried a few bottles of secret medicines—one to lure sharks, another a poison for coating throwing knives, and a top-grade smoke bomb.

“These should suffice. I'll just buy a few dozen more throwing knives.”

He put everything away.

“Let’s go!”

Bai Xuan finally made his decision.

If one cultivates a martial body, tempers themselves with dominating techniques, and yet crouches in fear, not daring to investigate even this little matter, wouldn’t all that training be in vain?

Besides, if things went awry, there might still be other ways out.

“It’s already been a quarter of an hour. At the speed of a black canopy boat, even with a skilled helmsman, catching up isn’t certain.”

Moments later, Bai Xuan stood at the edge of a cliff, gazing down at the great sea below.

“Tree of Longevity!”

The bronze Dao Tree appeared.

Though he had been training hard lately, Bai Xuan had refrained from hastily assigning his points, focusing instead on mastering his own strength. By now, he had accumulated four points in External Tempering Dao Insight, with two points remaining in Fisherman Dao Insight.

Now, at this critical moment, he could only use every means at his disposal.

“Assign points to me—Bronze Skin, Iron Bones!”

Boom!

A bronze hue, unbreakable, appeared across his skin, dense and impenetrable, unmoved even by a heavy hammer blow.

His bones rang out, as if being forged by a master smith—a thousand strikes, sparks flying—then, at last, the sound subsided.

Bronze Skin (Minor Achievement 1%), Iron Bones (Mastery 62%).

Swimming!

In an instant, the final empty spot on the Fisherman Path’s branches unfurled a leaf, gleaming green and etched with the rippling lines of water, as if signifying speed itself.

Swimming (Mastery 1%).

Bai Xuan felt his whole body tremble with strength; with a leap, he could dart through the water like a fish!

“Go!”

In a flash, Bai Xuan shot into the sea like an arrow, leaving not a ripple behind. Soon after, a white streak tore through the water below, disappearing into the vast ocean in the blink of an eye!

...

Snow fell thick and fast.

On a small island.

Jagged rocks jutted out, trees stood yellowed and bare, a layer of snow blanketed the ground. Halfway up the mountain, half-hidden by the forest, stood a dilapidated temple long abandoned.

A fishing boat sat moored beside the island. Two figures, one step deep and one shallow, made their way up the mountain path.

“Zhao Yan, you must save my granddaughter. If anything happens to her, I...” Old Li’s back was stooped, his expression full of sorrow.

Regret gnawed at his heart. His greed had ruined himself—but his granddaughter’s abduction left him truly panic-stricken.

“I’ll do my best. Be careful yourself.”

At his side, a tall, middle-aged man with a severe look wore a long knife at his waist, his aura of energy and blood faintly visible.

He had trained his Iron Shirt to the peak of the second blood breakthrough. Blades could not harm him, nor could the sea’s fiercest whales; his Wind-Cutter Blade was near mastery, and he had once slain three pirates of equal rank, sustaining only minor injuries!

Three blood breakthroughs was but a rough measure, denoting the strength of one’s vitality, yet each stage contained vast differences in power.

Zhao Yan was a knife-for-hire on Qianshan Island, closely connected to the authorities. His famed Wind-Cutter Blade, it was said, was learned from an old constable of the yamen.

Thus, he was known for his hatred of evil. The moment Old Li begged for help, he agreed at once.

Soon, the two had reached the ruined temple.

“I’ll go in.”

Zhao Yan signaled, then pushed open the temple door with a creak.

Inside, the gloom was thick. Cobwebs hung from the corners, dust covered the floor. At the far end stood a statue, clutching a trident in both hands, tattered wings at its back, a multitude of eyes opening across its body, its head entwined with tentacles, seated atop a half-collapsed giant whale.

“The Sea God?” Zhao Yan’s expression shifted.

The Sea God was a depraved maritime deity, said to rule over storms and tides, wielding boundless power. It could bring disaster, destroy fleets, flatten islands.

Its likeness was terrifying at a glance.

Worshippers of the Sea God were invariably mad pirates, their cruelty infamous—once even exterminating an entire island, slaughtering all the elderly, women, and children!

Therefore, the authorities hunted the Sea God cult most relentlessly.

“So you recognize the great Sea God. You have some knowledge, at least,” a shadowy figure beneath the statue sneered. “But who told you to bring someone else?”

“Ying’er!” Old Li cried urgently.

From the shadows, the little girl bound there was indeed his granddaughter, delicate as carved jade.

“Here is the ransom.”

Zhao Yan tossed a wooden box forward.

The figure in the shadows took it respectfully, passing it to a burly man for inspection.

The big man opened the box, scooping out the contents.

“Not enough.”

“That’s all there is. I doubt you’ll find more.”

Zhao Yan stood tall and straight. “If you wish, my treasured blade has a rhino-horn handle and a meteoric iron blade. It’s worth two hundred taels of silver.”

“But if you want it, you’ll have to come take it yourself.”

At these words, the burly man gave a sinister laugh, his deep voice rasping, “Flying Rat, go try him out.”

The first man in the shadows stepped forward, wearing only coarse cloth, but his waist-length blade was absurdly long.

He placed a hand on the hilt, eyes flashing with cruelty.

“Show me what you’ve got!”

In that instant, Zhao Yan’s gaze sharpened.

He was not careless, advancing in a sideways stance, step by step. The other man kept his hand on his blade, eyes locked, feet shifting in a careful dance, keeping the distance constant, as if circling within an invisible ring.

Suddenly—

Swish!

Zhao Yan struck first!

His blade surged forth, energy and blood erupting. For a