Chapter 73 Clearwater Stronghold

The old man said no more, once again hoisting Lu Kuan up and continuing eastward.

Lu Kuan glanced back at the crowd, whose expressions were a mixture of confusion and resignation. Grinning broadly, he shouted, “Go back and tell Master Hong I won’t pursue this matter any further. But if it happens again, it’ll be my turn to hunt you down—let’s see how lively your treasure hunts get then…”

The old man moved with astonishing speed, and before long, he was nothing more than a distant speck on the horizon. Yet Lu Kuan’s voice carried clearly to everyone.

“Report the situation to the captain; let’s withdraw,” said Grasshopper, somewhat dispirited.

Someone responded, passing along the command, though not everyone was ready to give up.

“Grasshopper, that old man is clearly a high-level boss. Should we call the captain over and give it a try?” someone asked, eager for action.

“That’s right, we could’ve stalled for longer. If our main force had arrived, we might not have lost!” another chimed in immediately.

Grasshopper glanced at their faces, knowing he wasn’t alone in his thoughts. He shook his head. “Stop daydreaming. Haven’t you realized the old man’s true identity?”

Confusion spread among the group as they looked at one another.

Grasshopper sighed. “Don’t you remember? Three days ago, the captain took a team to explore the Banyan Tree Prairie and discovered a place to the east called Clearwater Village—a neutral settlement.”

With Grasshopper’s reminder, everyone recalled the details.

“Yes, the guards in that village are all level twenty and up—much stronger than those in other small towns.”

“I heard the captain wanted to meet the chief of the village to see if there were any hidden quests. But what happened after that?”

“The chief of Clearwater Village was away at the time,” Grasshopper interjected, turning to look eastward across the prairie. “According to the villagers, their chief is a mysterious monk, highly skilled in martial arts, about fifty or sixty years old, and always dressed in black…”

As Grasshopper spoke, realization dawned on the group. Instinctively, everyone looked toward the east.

Someone murmured, “He’s the chief of Clearwater Village? His guards are level twenty, so what level is the old man? Thirty? Forty?”

...

The old NPC moved incredibly fast. In less than ten minutes, the two had left the lakeside far behind.

“Sir, we haven’t properly introduced ourselves yet. My name is Lu Kuan. May I ask your name?”

“Don’t just focus on the journey—let’s chat a bit. Where do you live?”

“Could you untie me so I can walk on my own? I promise I won’t run…”

No matter how Lu Kuan rattled on, the old man ignored him. But Lu Kuan wasn’t bothered; he kept up his cheerful chatter, searching for a topic.

By now, Lu Kuan had completely changed his approach. From the earlier skirmish, it was clear this old man wasn’t bloodthirsty; otherwise, with his strength, he could have wiped out the entire opposing group with ease.

So Lu Kuan adopted the same strategy he’d used with Master Hong—doing his best to get close to the old man.

According to the basic logic of the game, an NPC like this almost always has a hidden quest!

Thus, Lu Kuan jabbered on the whole way. Finally, the old man, unable to take it anymore, snapped, “Kid, stop talking. If you want, just hand over the gemstone.”

Seeing an opening, Lu Kuan quickly responded with a smile, “Sir, that’s a treasure I worked hard to find. Wouldn’t it be cruel to just take it from me?”

“I can trade you something for it,” the old man replied without hesitation.

The old man’s straightforwardness caught Lu Kuan off guard. Thinking fast, Lu Kuan said, “There’s no rush to trade. Can you tell me why you need the gemstone? Maybe I can help.”

The old man glanced down at Lu Kuan, his expression complicated, pausing before he answered, “We’ll talk when we arrive.”

After that, the old man fell silent. Lu Kuan, satisfied with his progress, behaved like a proper captive, closing his mouth and following quietly.

A dozen minutes later, Lu Kuan noticed the old man slowing down. Looking up, he saw the silhouette of mountains ahead, and at their base, the faint outline of a small town.

He checked the system map and found they were at the edge of Banyan Tree Prairie. Beyond the mountains lay another region.

Yet, as he studied the map’s terrain, Lu Kuan felt a growing sense of familiarity. As they drew closer to the town, this feeling intensified.

When they reached the gates, Lu Kuan saw the towering, weathered stone statue standing guard. Memories flooded back.

“This must be Clearwater Village! I’ve done quests here before. So this old man is…”

Lu Kuan was still searching his memory when the old man dragged him inside.

“Chief!”

The village guards straightened at the sight of the old man, saluting him respectfully. The old man waved dismissively and released Lu Kuan, untying the rope.

Even with his superhuman stamina, the old man was a bit out of breath after carrying Lu Kuan for so long.

He paused briefly, then strode forward without looking back. “Follow me.”

Lu Kuan had no choice but to trail behind.

Along the way, everyone who saw the old man—whether young or old—cheered and hurried to join him. In no time, nearly a hundred villagers trailed behind, forming a “giant tail.”

Seeing this, Lu Kuan was even more certain of the old man’s identity: he must be the chief of Clearwater Village, a level 40+ monk, Master Tao.

Clearwater Village was a neutral settlement, some distance from Lava Fortress. The nearby water monsters were high-level, making it a promising spot for players to settle.

Unfortunately, for various reasons, the village was eventually removed from the map, with no place called Clearwater Village left on Banyan Tree Prairie.

...

At the eastern edge of the village, in the woods.

Several tents clustered together in a clearing, forming a tight circle. A large feline beast lay quietly in the shade, snoring softly.

It was a fully grown ancient saber-toothed tiger, over four meters long even without its tail. Its dark-gray body rose and fell with each breath.

Most striking were the tiger’s two enormous, blade-like fangs—one glance was enough to chill the blood.

But the tiger was clearly emaciated, its ribs almost visible through its skin. Its right forepaw was horribly swollen, with black pus and blood oozing from the wound.

Lu Kuan crouched before the saber-toothed tiger, gazing thoughtfully at the swollen, festering injury, his brows furrowed in contemplation.