Death Scripture

Chapter 170

Chapter 170: Last Words

Translator: Transn Editor: Transn

Maid Lotus demonstrated the numerous assassination techniques she had learned in Carvewood Academy. These were things which Gu Shenwei would never be able to learn, having missed out the first time.

In addition to kungfu, Carvewood Academy taught ten special arts, including disguise, tracking, interrogation, vocal imitation, etc. The apprentices could choose several of these to practice based on their personal preferences and abilities. Nobody was able to learn every one of them, but neither was there anyone so stupid as to not learn a single skill.

Though Maid Lotus was not masked, she was practically unrecognizable by virtue of her thick makeup. Gu Shenwei could not believe his eyes, this being the first time he saw her in red clothing.

It was not only her appearance but also her temperament which had changed. Maid Lotus was a different person in and out; her glance was smooth and her demeanor was as gentle as water. She did not resemble a killer in the least bit.

“Could this be another of Carvewood Academy’s special arts?” Gu Shenwei had to admit that this was a very useful skill. Who would guess that a lady of such elegance and beauty would have a lethal blade concealed under her skirt?

Elder Song the Third’s insensibility had nearly ruined the entire assassination plan, but it also increased the believability of Maid Lotus’ disguise as a prostitute.

Once she entered the small room upstairs, Maid Lotus pulled a dagger out from her sleeve and killed the burly man. The subsequent noises would be solely of her doing.

There was something in the Machete God Huang Shi’an’s eyes which convinced Maid Lotus that he would come to the rescue of the damsel in distress. That thing was perhaps called “chivalry” or “dignity”. Or it could purely be his desire to prove his masculinity, just as seen in the fights to the death which male animals would engage in over females.

Maid Lotus was putting on a one-person show in hopes that her prey would take the bait. If the hero who came forth was not Huang Shi’an but another man, she would be forced to kill yet another innocent person and quickly flee the scene.

It was the longest fifteen minutes which Maid Lotus ever experienced. She, like Slave Huan, was a greenhorn killer. Though she knew she possessed immense strength, she had no idea how this compared to her opponents. As of yet, each successful battle served to consolidate her self-confidence.

The Machete God Huang Shi’an came upstairs and pushed open the door. He was taken aback when he discovered the room was not lit.

“Close the door.” A soft female voice ordered from across the room.

Huang Shi’an closed the door but immediately pulled out his weapon. As an elite macheteman, he was able to perceive danger quickly and accurately. His arrogance meant he was unafraid of killers, and certainly not a female one.

“I hope, in a while, you’ll still have energy for something else.”

These were the final words of the Machete God of Horned Dragon Society. A tide-like mass of killing intent surged from the darkness, choking him and causing his limbs to turn weak.

However, he was still able to strike out with his machete at the killing intent, which bore down on him like an avalanche, so as to cut open a breathing vent for himself.

Soon, he no longer needed to breathe.

Knowing that death was imminent after he felt a mild prick that left no wound on his chest, two thoughts flashed across his mind: “I don’t even know who this woman is; the debts I owe no longer have to be repaid.”

Maid Lotus was just that little faster than the Machete God. The latter’s weapon was approximately an inch away from hitting her when her own sword struck him, causing his strength to dissipate in a split second. Pressing against her arm, he collapsed on the floor.

She had not exercised a comprehensive means of assassination. After all, she needed the Machete God to attain his best form so that she could make good use of his assassination to elevate her swordcraft.

Turning her clothing inside out, she became an unidentifiable person wearing a hood and a black cape. After slicing off his head, she walked out of the room, slowly made her way downstairs while nobody was noticing, and calmly exited the building.

She did not arouse any suspicions, being dressed in a style commonly seen in South City. The few drops of blood she dripped were only discovered much later.

The story of the female killer in red spread rapidly, yet suspicions never fell on Maid Lotus. Few people in Jade City even knew of her existence. It was the two female masters of the Shangguan family whom everyone suspected instead.

Shangguan Yushi was first to be suspected of being the incomparably beautiful and elegant female killer. However, because she was significantly taller than the killer was described to be, many people’s suspicions shifted towards Shangguan Ru.

The latter did not mind being suspected and was even highly intrigued by the affair. Conversely, the former was a little offended. “Would I disguise myself as that sort of woman? I…”

She was unable to complete her sentence and express her dissatisfaction further. This was because the methods employed by Maid Lotus were entirely learned from Golden Roc Fort, of which one of the precepts for killers was to use unscrupulous tactics. A person who cared too much about things like dignity and appearance could never become an outstanding killer.

Without meaning to, the female master of the Shangguan family had let slip that she was not a real killer.

Many people could smell the storm that was brewing. However, the expected battle between the Kun and Horned Dragon societies did not immediately arise.

Horned Dragon Society regretted designating the Machete God as a “team’s treasure”, and swallowed the bitter pill which was of their own creation. Despite not participating in many battles, Huang Shi’an was the psychological pillar of every macheteman of the society. His death struck fear into their hearts such that, for some time, they dared not step outdoors in groups of less than five.

Although Ye Silang refused to go to war in the name of Horned Dragon Society, he went several times, accompanied only by his sword and a large group of tailing busybodies, to Kun Society. Each time, however, he was told that the killer Yang Huan was not around.

Horned Dragon Society expended a significant amount of effort to find out the whereabouts of Slave Huan, through means such as investigation work and bribery. As such, many people who barely had connections with the slave acquired a small fortune overnight, or otherwise were subjected to intimidation by knives and swords. However, the only information which could be certified was that Slave Huan was neither in Kun Society nor North City.

Gu Shenwei, together with Maid Lotus, was actively evading battle and hiding somewhere apart from Kun Society. The Protector of the rice and flour trade, Shopkeeper Mi, had used someone else’s name to rent, for the two killers, a small house on the edge of the city. It was here where they hid while plotting their next step.

Gu Shenwei had made up his mind. No matter what others thought, he would continue to operate in the dark and would never accept a public challenge. There was no glory attached to the battle with Ye Silang anyway. He was merely a mercenary engaged to remove the thorn in the flesh of Fifth Young Master Meng.

The reputation of the killer Yang Huan had plummeted to rock bottom. He was, at present, seen as nothing but a dastardly and incompetent weakling who could only preserve his disgraceful existence in a dark corner.

Gu Shenwei did not explain matters to anyone, or even go to North City to meet Tenth Young Master. He spent his days discussing swordcraft with Maid Lotus, while at night, the two killers took turns to monitor Ye Silang’s residence.

Gu Shenwei guessed that a Protector was hiding by Ye Silang’s side. This conjecture was confirmed after a few successive days of observation.

“His Lightness Skill is great.” Maid Lotus made this assessment of Chu Yangjun upon noticing his traces for the first time.

“You would lose at a contest of swords, but win at a contest of killing.” Gu Shenwei repeated this line in a low voice several times. He was already interested in Immortal Peng despite having not met.

Engaging Chu Yangjun to secretly protect him was the biggest concession which Ye Siling, as a conceited swordsman, had ever made in exchange for his personal security. If no assassins showed up, Chu Yangjun would not reveal himself. The two men considered themselves to be above underhand tricks, and therefore would certainly disapprove of Horned Dragon Society making use of Ye Silang to set a trap.

Gu Shenwei felt that he himself, along with Maid Lotus, had already won.

The imminent war between the two societies, which was still taking its time to transpire, had already unnerved the entire South City before it began. Every day in every tavern, there would be gossip based on “conclusive” evidence predicting that war would begin as soon as night arrived.

One of these taverns was only half a street’s distance from Ye Silang’s residence. Squeezed in the middle of a heap of grand-looking brothels and betting arenas, it was inconspicuously squalid and small. There were never many patrons, and it was even emptier during the day. However, in recent days, a return patron had arrived.

This particular patron would appear in the morning every day. The manager would personally serve him a flask of homebrewed rice wine, a small plate of braised peanuts, and a plate of cooked beef, always prepared in the same style. Although the portions were not large, the patron would spend a long time to finish them before returning to his rented room for a short nap. The room was exceptionally tidy and contained nothing save for a bed. The patron would depart in the evening and not return throughout the night, and, on occasion, would also disappear for a period of time during the day.

He was always dressed in a drooping black robe and kept his face hidden in his hood even when he was eating. He never conversed with anyone, and even the manager did not actively interact with him except for serving up wine and food.

This person was Chu Yangjun. He would keep guard near Ye Silang every night, and if the latter went outdoors during the day, he would blend in with the following crowd and take note of every slight movement in the vicinity so as to prevent assassins from succeeding for the second time.

He never thought that he himself would be the target of an assassination.

On the evening of the fifth day of the second lunar month, the streets were packed with people. South City was like a revived giant beast stretching its body and emitting a continuous roar. Chu Yangjun walked towards Ye Silang’s residence, ready to carry out the task which he was most willing and almost too happy to take on.

As they say, everyone has a face which can change into a totally different one based on how the wind blows, whether from indifferent to warm, joyous to irate, or tender to abhorrent. A particular face was, without warning, about to change into that of a killer.

A steel dart was shot out from amidst a crowd, tearing a hole in a man’s clothes and brushing past the raised arm of a woman. Both people proceeded on their way as if they did not feel anything.

Because Chu Yangjun’s body was turned slightly sideways, the dart flew past his cape and struck his scabbard.

He quickly caught sight of the assassin, who was wearing a similar black cape. He knew it was a woman because, at the moment when she swung her arm to throw the dart, she revealed a section of her scarlet clothes.

Chu Yangjun deftly squeezed his way through the crowd and tailed the woman in red from a ten steps’ distance. He was not about to casually admit defeat if someone wanted a contest of Lightness Skill.

The woman in red skedaddled in varying directions and exhausted every possible means but was not able to shake off her chaser. Thus, she took a few successive bends and entered an alley which was nearly deserted.

This was exactly what Chu Yangjun hoped for. He picked up speed and planned to capture the assassin alive within twenty steps.

The woman in red appeared as if she had unwittingly been compelled to trap herself in a dead end. Just as it seemed she had nowhere left to hide, she nimbly leaped on to the roof and prepared to scamper off. Chu Yangjun followed her and leaped upwards, but was swiftly met by a sword that came out of nowhere.

With his soles three feet off the ground, Chu Yangjun knew he had been set up. Remaining calm and undaunted, he leaped up a further three feet and pulled out his long sword. By the time half of his body was above the roof, he had already thrust his sword towards his target. Anyone who thought Chu Yangjun could not strike with his sword at any time would be gravely mistaken.

When his sword struck its target, he could feel, traveling from its tip, a tremor caused by muscle contractions. It was like the last withered leaf of late autumn landing on the surface of a calm lake – the ripple it caused was barely visible but could continue to travel until it reached the opposite bank.

The swordsman would not allow the sword he was holding to remain in the enemy’s body. The keeping of his sword was just as important as the thrusting.

Chu Yangjun’s heart soured, as if the rich red color of a flower he fancied had completely faded and brought with it a momentary sense of loss and grief. He relaxed his grip on the sword shaft, and, without keeping his sword, he plunged downwards and fell on the dirty snow, which was one of the things he hated most.

He looked up and saw that the assassin in black was stood on the rooftop looking back at him. His long sword continued to vacillate up and down on the assassin’s chest. Upon identifying the latter as a killer, he revealed a final smile. There was not a trace of resentment on his face, which had become as demure as a housewife’s.

“Tell Silang to bury me under a peach blossom tree.”

Gu Shenwei heard the swordsman’s dying words but did not see his smile and facial expression.