Volume One: The Youngest Among Three Hundred Chapter 115: I Have a Strong Stomach

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Chen Chang’an’s expectations seemed to have been correct. The horse ranch was far from ordinary. The instant the Black Garment Guards charged forward, the several grooms washing horses at the entrance instinctively tried to warn those inside while drawing their blades to block and resist.

The Taian saber in Yue Bingbing’s hand—a weapon exclusive to the Xuan-rank Black Garment Guards, its ornate patterns edged in gold—swept from left to right in a dazzling arc. Five men were severed at the waist in an instant. The scene was bloody and utterly horrific.

Lu Bozhao had no intention of using a weapon. His heavy fists, powerful and fierce, whistled through the air with unstoppable force. Each blow landed with a series of dull thuds. Wherever his fists struck, bones cracked and internal organs twisted and collapsed.

Uncle Tan wielded his bright yellow gourd like a hammer, repeatedly smashing it into their heads. He truly made them see their own brains.

As for the remaining Xuan-rank Black Garment Guard, Tao Yuan, his methods of slaughter appeared positively refined compared with those of the other three.

Ruan Jingchu’s pale-pink longsword danced without pause, cutting down her enemies with exhilarating ease. Chen Chang’an noticed a blade descending straight toward her face. He was about to intervene and block it when, in a bizarre sight, the blade that had been so close suddenly began moving farther away, as though the scene had been rewound frame by frame.

It ultimately froze in the instant after it had been drawn, before the wielder had even begun his swing.

Understanding the threat posed by that blade, Ruan Jingchu thrust her sword forward. In the blink of an eye, the swordsman’s head was severed and went rolling across the ground for seven or eight meters before coming to a lifeless stop.

At first, Chen Chang’an thought he had seen incorrectly. But after witnessing Ruan Jingchu strike several more times, he became certain it was real. Every attack launched against her, just as it was about to succeed, would inexplicably return to the moment before it was unleashed.

“What the hell? That’s incredible. Is this Sister Ruan’s Prime Art?”

Ye Lin, meanwhile, used Prime Art Twenty-Three, Voidless Realm, to shift positions and change coordinates in a constant series of flashes. He always appeared at angles his enemies never expected, launching fatal attacks without the slightest mercy.

The clang of blades striking one another rang out incessantly, mingled with the shrieks of the grooms guarding the horse-ranch entrance. The battle was brief and swift, lasting no more than thirty seconds from beginning to end.

Once the entrance had been secured, the four Xuan-rank Black Garment Guards raised their arms and shouted, “Charge inside!”

“Yes!”

The response thundered through the heavens. A thousand men surged into the horse ranch like an avalanche. Yet before they could advance very far, the ranch’s core forces blocked their path in the front courtyard. Four masked men in black led several thousand burly martial artists armed with sharp weapons straight toward them.

Lu Bozhao, one of the Xuan-rank commanders, faced them with a cold stare and bellowed an opening line that sounded suspiciously like a professional habit:

“Rebels! You are completely surrounded by the Black Garment Guards. If you know what is good for you, do not resist. Lay down your weapons and surrender!”

Whoosh!

The men in black showed no intention of wasting words with him. Each raised his weapon, released a chilling aura, and launched an attack.

“Damn it. So you refuse to appreciate kindness!”

Lu Bozhao cursed under his breath. Without the slightest fear, his killing intent surged again and again as he charged to meet them. At the same moment, the other three Xuan-rank commanders also made their moves, while the subordinates on both sides raised their weapons and rushed forward, hacking and slashing.

The enormous horse ranch instantly dissolved into chaos. The sounds of sand and stones flying, blades scraping against one another, blood splattering, battle cries echoing through the ranks, hoarse shouts of exertion, and agonized screams from the fallen rang out without end.

A thousand against a thousand.

Black Garment against Black Garment!

In the first large-scale battle Chen Chang’an had personally experienced since crossing into this world, he was dazed for only a moment before swiftly locking onto the weakest opening in the enemy’s formation. He sprang forward, closed the distance in a few quick strides, and brought his blade down.

With a wet slash, blood sprayed through the air and the bandit collapsed dead.

Then the next one.

And the one after that.

And another after that.

His movements were smooth and seamless, his swordsmanship precise and ruthless, his technique unique and graceful. Before long, he had carved a passage through the dense confusion of black and dark garments, opening a route through the front courtyard and toward the interior.

After all, the strongest fighters were engaged with the four Xuan-rank commanders. No one was paying attention to him.

Soon, he left the main battlefield in the courtyard and entered a large warehouse at the rear. Killing the rebels was not truly important to Chen Chang’an. What he wanted was to understand the organization from within and uncover its deepest secrets.

The moment he entered the warehouse, he found a gigantic bookshelf directly in front of him, filled with documents and rolls of records. Chen Chang’an casually pulled out a volume and glanced at it. Three large characters were written across the cover: the Dragon-Slaying Society.

The name of the organization?

His spirits lifted. He immediately opened the document and skimmed through the remaining contents. The information within soon gave him a general understanding of the rebel group.

The Son of Heaven was the dragon. To slay the dragon meant killing Bai Yan and seizing the Great Min Empire. His suspicions had been correct: this was a subversive organization.

Further inside was a consolidated list of the Dragon-Slaying Society’s members. It contained the names of nearly seventy high-ranking court officials. Chen Chang’an could not help exclaiming in astonishment. Among them were even officials of the second and first ranks. It was difficult to imagine that such highly placed figures were secretly plotting to seize the Great Min Empire.

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“Hey, this is an important document!”

The instant he finished speaking, the warehouse door creaked open once more. Ruan Jingchu and Ye Lin entered close behind him.

“Hey, everyone else is fighting and charging through the enemy lines outside, while you ran here to hide first,” Ye Lin complained.

Ruan Jingchu was far more serious. “What did you find?”

“Something, at least.”

As he spoke, Chen Chang’an handed them the document he had just taken from the shelf. After reading it, both of them lost control of their expressions.

“I never imagined that even Prime Minister Zhang was among the Dragon-Slaying Society,” Ruan Jingchu said. “It is difficult to believe.”

“At first glance, it does seem difficult to believe,” Chen Chang’an replied. “But when you think about it carefully, it makes perfect sense. I once heard my uncle-in-law say that Prime Minister Zhang strongly opposed Bai Yan’s rule over the Great Min Empire. Deep down, he supported the bloodline of Zhao Qi. The reason the current crown prince was made Zhao Yankang rather than someone from the Bai family was largely due to this prime minister’s encouragement and covert support.”

“Still, establishing an organization like the Dragon-Slaying Society seems more like something a soldier would do. It does not resemble the actions of a civil official.”

“Indeed. Miss Ruan has a point. I feel the same way.”

Ruan Jingchu and Ye Lin stared at the list, analyzing it piece by piece. Ye Lin kept nodding and murmuring his agreement. Anything Ruan said was worthy of his wholehearted support, for he was particularly devoted to her.

Hearing their casual discussion, Chen Chang’an could not help frowning.

“That’s right. This behavior really does not resemble the style of the current prime minister.”

He had a vague feeling that something was wrong.

“Ah…”

“Ow…”

At that moment, Ye Lin and Ruan Jingchu suddenly screamed. Their faces twisted with unbearable pain as they fell backward onto the floor. They gasped for breath, their complexions as pale as ashes, while beads of sweat rolled from their foreheads.

“Hey… what happened to you two?”

Chen Chang’an hurried over and took their pulses, assuming they had been attacked from hiding. But the result shocked him even more. Judging from their pulses, both had suffered a sudden case of intestinal abscess—in later generations, appendicitis. It was the kind of condition that had to be treated quickly, or the pain would become so severe that a person might not even recognize their own mother.

What was wrong with these two? It would have been strange enough for them to suffer from the same illness, but they had fallen ill at exactly the same time. Chen Chang’an had every reason to suspect that Ye Lin had done something to Sister Ruan, causing some kind of infection.

But on closer thought, appendicitis did not seem to be contagious.

Just as he was utterly baffled, a man dressed in black but without a mask entered from outside. His face was long and narrow, his features arranged in striking asymmetry. He examined Chen Chang’an with cold eyes and said mockingly, “Do not worry. It will be your turn soon.”

“It’s… it’s Prime Art Two Hundred and Two, Malignant Speech. Chen Chang’an, be careful!”

Ruan Jingchu, her expression wretched, pressed both hands over the pain that felt as if a knife were carving through her abdomen. Her voice was weak as she forced out the warning.

“Malignant… what is that supposed to be?”

Chen Chang’an was completely bewildered.

The man in black curled one corner of his mouth coldly, raised his palm toward Chen Chang’an, and began circulating his will.

“You will know soon enough. Intestinal abscess!”

“Ah!”

The instant the words left his mouth, Chen Chang’an felt an unbearable pain erupt in the lower-right side of his abdomen. It was as though a ball of red-hot iron had been thrown inside him, scorching his intestines and abdominal fat until everything boiled and burned.

It was obviously an acute intestinal attack. In that instant, he understood what Prime Art Two Hundred and Two, Malignant Speech, meant: whatever illness its wielder called out, the person being attacked would suffer the corresponding symptoms.

“Damn it. So that’s why those two…”

“Ah…”

Chen Chang’an writhed on the floor, screaming in agony.

The man in black sneered. “The Society Master mentioned you, and I thought you must be some extraordinary character. But this is all you amount to? Hahaha!”

Feeling that he had been provoked and insulted, Chen Chang’an immediately drew three silver needles from his robes. Using the Peach Blossom Herbal Sequence, he inserted them into several acupoints capable of treating and relieving intestinal abscess—appendicitis.

The effect was immediate. Every trace of pain and every adverse symptom vanished.

“That feels fantastic!”

Chen Chang’an got to his feet, brushed the dust from his clothes, and raised the Hidden Name saber. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

“Is that all you have? What other tricks… No, what other illnesses can you call out? Go ahead. Do not make it too easy for me to kill you.”

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The man in black’s face twitched.

“How… how is this possible? You are only at the second grade of Soul Cultivation. You do not possess any Prime Art specifically capable of countering Malignant Speech. Why did it fail?”

“Maybe I eat off women so often that my stomach is unusually healthy.”

Chen Chang’an advanced two steps with his saber and grinned.

“If you have no other illnesses, I suppose I will have to attack.”

Damn it… What was happening? Could his Prime Art truly have failed? His tried-and-true method had met with a complete defeat, and the man in black began to doubt himself. Yet outwardly, he maintained his composure and gave Chen Chang’an a cold laugh.

“Kid, you truly are not afraid of death. Very well. I will grant you your wish.”

He activated Prime Art Two Hundred and Two, Malignant Speech, to its greatest extent and shouted, “Stroke!”

At almost the exact same instant, Chen Chang’an moved his silver needles in perfect synchronization, stabbing them into acupoints capable of treating a stroke.

A rush of air swept through the room.

Nothing happened.

“Damn it! Why?”

“Respiratory obstruction!”

“Kidney deficiency!”

“Collapse of the vital force!”

“Breast cancer!”

“…”

The incredulous man in black called out one illness after another. Chen Chang’an met his speed with the speed of his hands, rapidly shifting his silver needles to the corresponding acupoints and neutralizing every attack in advance.

Under normal circumstances, treating an illness required not only needles but also medicinal herbs and other materials. But the other man’s Prime Art created subjective effects rather than objective conditions. It was a supernatural phenomenon. Therefore, the Peach Blossom Herbal Sequence could completely counter it.

To put it simply, magic had defeated magic.

“Damn it! Breast cancer… Breast cancer!”

“Kidney deficiency!”

The man in black continued shouting in fury. For martial artists, a Prime Art was a trump card and an ultimate technique to rely upon. The psychological blow of seeing it rendered useless was self-evident.

“Hmph!”

Chen Chang’an tilted the corner of his mouth and activated Peach Enchantment. A fragrant scent immediately drifted through the air toward the man. At the same time, he gripped the Hidden Name saber and used Spirit Drain, recklessly absorbing the surrounding spiritual energy. Once he had reached saturation, he thrust forward with the blade’s sharp tip.

“Breast cancer? Your mother has breast cancer. That is something only women get!”

“Pfft!”

When he said “breast,” Chen Chang’an was still seven paces away from the man in black. But by the time he spoke the word “cancer,” he had flashed to within arm’s reach. The Hidden Name saber plunged viciously into the man’s chest. Chen Chang’an twisted the hilt, causing the blade to rotate a full three hundred and sixty degrees inside him before wrenching it free and following with a diagonal slash toward the neck, giving his opponent no chance to catch his breath.

Blood gushed forth.

The man in black’s head flew through the air and struck the ground.

“Heh. Pathetic.”

After killing him, Chen Chang’an returned the Hidden Name saber to its sheath and hurried to the side of Ruan Jingchu and Ye Lin. He crouched beside them and anxiously pinched a silver needle between his fingers.

“Do not be afraid. I will save you immediately.”

“Pfft!”

The moment he finished speaking, the sound of a blade piercing flesh rang out. A violent pain erupted in Chen Chang’an’s abdomen, contorting his entire face into a convulsion of agony.

He clenched his teeth and used all his strength to lower his head slightly.

A patterned Taian saber had been thrust through his navel. Bright red droplets of blood gathered on the tip and fell one after another.

The Taian saber was specially forged for the Black Garment Guards. A patterned one belonged at least to the Heavenly or Xuan rank.

The attacker was one of his own.

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