Chương 230: The Hunter's Stalemate

The moon was high in the sky by the time they returned to their abandoned campsite. The small, smokeless fire Fat Pig had built was now nothing more than a pile of glowing embers, a faint orange eye in the oppressive darkness of the ancient forest. The mood was a bit down. Their first attempt at proactive investigation had been a strategic failure. They had saved a caravan and eliminated a group of hostiles, but they were no closer to understanding the source of the conflict than they had been that morning.

"Disposable pawns," Jian Xuan said, his voice a low, thoughtful murmur as he cleaned his new sword, Daybreak, with a soft, oiled cloth.

"Fanatical, or bound by a seal they cannot break. An enemy that uses such methods is disciplined and well-funded. This is not the work of common bandits."

"And clean," Fat Pig added with a grunt of frustration, tossing the last of the empty storage rings into the fire.

"Not a single scrap of identifying information. They were sent in to be a deniable force, to bloody the noses of the local merchants and disappear. If we hadn't shown up, no one would have been the wiser."

"So the bait strategy is a bust," Xylia stated, her voice flat. She was leaning against a tree, polishing her gauntlets.

"If we can't get them to talk, it doesn't matter if they attack us or someone else. We learn nothing." A heavy silence fell over the group as they contemplated their next move. They had hit a wall. Simply waiting for Fengliu's report felt too passive, especially with this violence continuing to fester right on their doorstep. It was Li Yu who broke the silence. He had been staring into the dying embers of the fire, his expression calm and analytical.

"Our strategy was flawed," he said simply.

"We were waiting for the serpent to bite our heel. But this serpent is cautious. It only bites the weak and the slow." He looked up, his gaze sweeping over his powerful companions.

"So, we will no longer be the bait. We will be the hunters." The new plan was simple and direct. They would abandon the pretense of being a vulnerable merchant caravan. Instead, they would use their superior spiritual senses to actively patrol the region. They would become a vigilante force, a group of roaming guardians, and instead of waiting for an attack, they would seek them out and intervene wherever they found them.

Their hope was that a larger sample size of prisoners, or a chance encounter with a higher-ranking figure, might eventually yield a clue. They set their new plan into motion at dawn. They did not take to the skies, an act that would have been a beacon to any cultivator with a decent spiritual sense. Instead, they spread out, finding strategic, hidden positions on the ground. Jian Xuan found a high, concealed perch among a series of rocky bluffs, giving him a commanding view of a long, winding valley.

Xylia melted into the deep, ancient woods that bordered the road, her beast-like instincts allowing her to become one with the shadows. Fat Pig established a central, well-hidden camp, acting as a coordinator. Li Yu chose a spot near a small river that snaked alongside the road, his aura suppressed until he was as unassuming as a simple fisherman resting on the bank.

From their positions, they each hid their auras completely and extended their powerful spiritual senses, weaving a massive, invisible net that covered the entire region. They became silent, patient spiders, waiting for a fly to stumble into their web. For most of the morning, the roads were quiet. The news of the previous night's failed ambush had likely spread, and the attackers were laying low. It wasn't until late afternoon that a tremor ran through their invisible net.

Far to the west, near Jian Xuan's position, another small caravan was under attack. This one was carrying textiles, their colorful bolts of silk a stark contrast to the grim reality of their situation. Jian Xuan was the closest. From his perch high on the rocky bluff, he looked down at the chaotic scene. The twenty or so hooded attackers, all in the Foundation Establishment realm, were in the process of overwhelming the caravan's small contingent of guards. To him, a Soul Formation expert, they were ants.

He did not move from his spot. He simply raised a single, elegant hand. The spiritual energy of the world gathered around him, and in the air before him, two dozen swords of pure, white energy materialized, each one humming with a deadly, condensed power. With a dismissive flick of his wrist, the energy swords shot down from the bluff like a meteor shower. This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. It was over in seconds.

The attackers, who had been focused on the desperate guards before them, didn't even have time to look up. The rain of light descended upon them with unerring accuracy. Each sword struck a single target, the immense power of a Soul Formation expert blasting through their meager defenses. Most were killed instantly, their bodies thrown about like ragdolls.

Jian Xuan, with his precise control, had deliberately weakened the power of two of the swords, ensuring they only shattered the limbs of their targets, leaving them alive but incapacitated for questioning. The entire, overwhelming assault was concluded before the first body had even hit the ground. The rescued textile merchants stared at the smoking craters and the fallen bodies, then up at the lone, god-like figure on the bluff, their faces a mask of terror and awe.

The interrogation, however, was another complete failure. The two prisoners were just as fanatical as the last group. They spat curses and threats until Jian Xuan, his patience exhausted, ended their lives with two swift, merciful strokes of his sword. A quick sweep of their storage rings revealed the same result as before: nothing but petty cash and basic supplies. They spent the night in the forest, a deep sense of frustration beginning to brew. They were winning every battle, but making no progress in the war.

The next day brought more of the same. Just after sunrise, their combined spiritual sense detected another attack, this one on a lone, wealthy-looking cultivator traveling in a small, elegant sky-boat that had been forced to the ground. Li Yu was the closest this time. He appeared from the riverside trees in a silent blur. The dozen or so hooded attackers, seeing a single, unarmed young man, sneered and charged at him. It was their final mistake.

Li Yu met their charge with his heavy, black Condensed Sea Iron Ore staff in hand. The fight was a brutal, one-sided display of physical power. The first attacker's sword shattered against the staff, and the force of the blow continued onward, smashing into his chest and sending him flying back into three of his comrades, a tangle of broken bones. Li Yu was a whirlwind of black iron, his staff a blur, each swing carrying the weight of a mountain. He didn't use any flashy techniques; he didn't need to.

He simply smashed them. Defenses, weapons, and bones were all pulverized with the same, contemptuous ease. In a matter of moments, the attackers were all left in a broken, unconscious heap on the ground. He left two alive. The interrogation was a carbon copy of the previous attempts. Defiance. Curses. A body seal. A swift execution. A search of the rings. Nothing.

The rescued cultivator, a young master from a distant city, was so terrified by Li Yu's brutal, overwhelming strength that he could barely stammer out his thanks before fleeing the scene as fast as his damaged sky-boat could carry him. Later that afternoon, they stopped their third attack of the day. It was a smaller group of attackers, more hesitant, as if they were testing the waters. Xylia, emerging from the deep woods like a silent predator, was upon them before they even knew what was happening.

The result was as brutal and one-sided as her first intervention. The interrogation that followed was so predictable it felt like a pointless ritual. They learned nothing. By the end of the second day, a tangible change had settled over the region. As they maintained their silent watch at sunset, the forests and roads below were quiet. Eerily quiet. There were no more ambushes, no more flashes of spiritual energy in the distance.

The constant, simmering violence that had plagued the region seemed to have vanished completely. They regrouped at Fat Pig's hidden camp as night fell. The mood around the campfire was somber. They had become brutally efficient at their new task, but their task had seemingly dried up.

"They're gone," Fat Pig grumbled, poking at the fire with a stick.

"We've stomped on three of their nests, and the whole swarm has gone to ground. We're not going to find any more of them out here."

"We have not found the serpent," Jian Xuan said, his gaze distant as he stared into the flames, "but our presence has made it retreat into its hole. They are aware of us now. They know there is a group of hunters in this forest, and they are wary. They have conceded the field, for now." They had reached a stalemate. They were too powerful for the disposable thugs the enemy was using, so the enemy had simply stopped sending them.

They had inadvertently made the roads safer for the local merchants, but in doing so, they had also cut off their only source of potential information. They were now hunters in a forest with no prey. Li Yu was silent, his fingers methodically working the small, intricate puzzle box he had bought in the city. He twisted and turned the interlocking rings, his mind working with a similar, focused logic. His initial, direct approach—acting as bait—had failed.

His second, more forceful approach—acting as a hunter—had also, in its own way, failed. The enemy was disciplined, secretive, and cautious. They would not be drawn out by simple tricks, and they would not be broken by simple force. He realized then that their strategy had been fundamentally flawed. They had been trying to catch the minnows, hoping one of them would lead them to the shark. But the shark was too clever for that. To find it, they couldn't just keep casting their net in the open water.

They needed a different method. They needed to find the shark's nest. But in the vast, dark ocean of the southern coast, how were they to find a single, hidden lair? The forest was quiet. The enemy was hidden. And they were no closer to answers than they had been when they first arrived.