Chapter 56: The Arrest

Almost at the same moment the signal arrow whistled, a figure broke through the eaves of the mansion like a shooting star, ascending into mid-air and flying rapidly toward the prison. It was the King of Hunt-West, a man deeply feared by Liuchou and his companions.

Scanning the scene, the King of Hunt-West immediately spotted the disturbance in the prison. He gazed at the casualties below, quickly deducing the strength of his opponents from the nature of the wounds and the traces of the struggle. He then peered into the distance, searching the entire Xiyi territory for signs of his prey.

He did not see Qingmei. The King of Hunt-West frowned slightly, then quickly locked onto two figures galloping toward the city outskirts. Their builds did not match Qingmei’s, but since they were fleeing in such a frenzy, they were undoubtedly involved.

The King of Hunt-West dove like a bolt of lightning, landing before the two in an instant. Making no attempt to restrain his power, the immense impact cracked the bluestone beneath his feet, sending countless shards flying like projectiles toward the pair.

The two came to a sudden, jarring halt and leaped back, their faces pale. Yet, they instantly brandished their weapons and lunged forward.

Knowing that an opponent capable of flight was beyond their ability to handle, their duty as escorts compelled them to follow orders nonetheless. One danced his sword like a dragon, closing in, while the other paused briefly, cupping his hands to form a ball. A grayish mist condensed between his palms, rapidly solidifying into a sphere before he hurled it away.

The King of Hunt-West remained unmoved. He slowly raised his hand and, facing their combined assault, extended only a single finger, pointing lightly into the void.

*Snap.* The flying ice-mist exploded instantly. The rapidly spreading cold froze the man who was about to reach the King, locking him in mid-air as if he were a statue, before he collapsed to the ground.

The swordsman, half of his face turned a bruised, bloodless blue, bounced up like a ball the moment he hit the ground. He shrieked, firing several black rays of light from his hand straight at the King’s face. Meanwhile, the one who had conjured the ice-sphere pulled his hands apart, the mist dispersing to form a long, illusory spear of ice.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he thrust the spear, following closely behind the black light toward the King.

*Pfft! Pfft!*

With two soft sounds, the King of Hunt-West flicked his fingers twice, as if firing bullets. Both men collapsed simultaneously, large holes appearing in their chests and abdomens, blood flowing freely. Only then did the black rays reach the King, stopping half a foot away as they struck an invisible wall and clattered to the ground.

The ability to ascend and the presence of a protective aura immediately revealed the King’s rank. The pupils of the two escorts constricted; after struggling to prop themselves up, they finally stopped their assault. Before a master of this rank, there was no longer any difference between fighting and standing still.

"Speak. Who broke into the prison?"

The faces of the two escorts were twisted, not just from the pain of their wounds, but from the psychological terror of facing such a formidable foe. Yet, neither showed weakness; they glared at the King, smirking coldly, but remained silent.

"Tianshan Escape, is it?" the King of Hunt-West muttered to himself. He glanced at their weapons—the long sword and the ice spear now lay on the ground, the latter beginning to melt.

They still said nothing.

The King of Hunt-West suddenly laughed. He rose into the air, returning to the sky, and headed toward another disturbance.

Seeing the King disappear, the two men slumped onto the ground. Ignoring their bleeding wounds, they gasped for air, sweat beading on their faces. The stubborn resolve they had maintained had taken a heavy toll.

"Should we go?" the swordsman asked suddenly.

"Let’s go," the man with the ice spear replied with a strained smile. "Since we aren't dead yet, we must continue..."

The swordsman tried to smile, but as his facial muscles twitched, his expression changed violently. He opened his mouth and vomited a thick stream of blood. It was not bright red, but mixed with yellowish-green fluid, giving it a putrid, sickening quality.

"What's wrong?"

The other noticed the abnormality and asked anxiously. But the man could not answer; he could only gag violently, spewing out not just blood, but the food from his stomach, which was also flecked with red debris.

"I... I..." the man managed to squeeze out, but his tongue had already swollen to fill his entire mouth. His eyes were wide with terror, and red capillaries rapidly spiderwebbed across them, turning his eyeballs crimson like a phantom’s.

He could no longer breathe, clawing desperately at his throat, his nostrils flaring in a futile attempt to draw air into his lungs.

To his companion’s horror, it was not just his tongue that was swelling, but his entire body. He looked like an over-inflated sheepskin. His eyes bulged from their sockets, his cheeks puffed out, and his stomach ballooned rapidly, far exceeding the size of a late-term pregnancy.

In the blink of an eye, the man swelled into a ball of flesh. His clothes tore, and his skin became nearly transparent, revealing the viscous fluid filling the space beneath. It continued to accumulate, causing him to grow even larger!

The man with the ice spear scrambled back, looking around wildly for help, but he had no idea what to do. He could only watch as his companion collapsed to the ground, convulsing, until he burst into a spray of blood and pus that covered a radius of several yards!

In his shock, he failed to dodge, and was drenched from head to toe.

Then, he realized his own tongue was beginning to swell. His eyes began to sting, and the world seemed to expand in his vision. He raised his hand and saw his fingers turning into candle-like shapes, growing larger by the second.

Panicked, he drew his dagger and slashed at his hands. Blood and pus flowed out, and the swelling briefly subsided. He frantically cut wounds into his own body—his waist, his legs—releasing the fluid.

He kept cutting, kept acting, until the dagger fell from his hand. He then realized with horror that his hands and arms were nothing but bone wrapped in a thin layer of skin—he was a skeleton!

He looked down at his chest and abdomen, which had sunken deep. The skin was so thin it was transparent; he could clearly see his internal organs slowly melting and flowing out through his wounds.

*Snap.* Without the support of muscle, his bones could no longer bear his weight. He collapsed to the ground, his leg bone snapping at an awkward angle. He was now indistinguishable from a skeleton, save for the remnants of his organs that had not yet fully dissolved.

Liuchou had arranged for three groups to flee, all of whom were caught by the King of Hunt-West. None of them were the primary targets, and all had met the same grisly end. This result exceeded his expectations. After a moment of contemplation, he climbed higher into the air. His consciousness surged out like a wave, rippling across the wilderness and covering a radius of several miles in an instant.

Within his perception, two swift figures had escaped the Xiyi territory and were fleeing into the distance. Two or three miles away from them, a cloud-skiff hovered silently above the canopy of a towering tree, waiting.

"Dividing forces to lure the enemy. Good strategy, but a pity you ran into me." The King of Hunt-West moved, sweeping toward the northwest. His rapid movement stirred a cacophony of night crows in the darkness, which startled the fleeing figures.

With a whistle of wind, the King of Hunt-West descended before one of them. He saw a face wide with shock and panic, and a cold smile finally touched his lips.

Guanlan. He not only knew him, but knew him well.

Before the King could speak, Guanlan, after a moment of panic, knelt on one knee and bowed. "I greet the King of Hunt-West!"

His face was calm, but his heart was in turmoil. Though the King’s arrival was abrupt, he connected the dots and realized his mission must have been related to the King, which was why he had come to hunt them down personally.

The King of Hunt-West looked him up and down. "A Marquis-General or a Secondary General?"

"This student is unskilled, only a Marquis-General," Guanlan said, not daring to look up.

"A Marquis-General is not bad. To become a general within three years of entering the Tianshan Escape shows talent." The King’s words sounded like praise, but his tone remained icy. "If so, then the people I killed must have been your escorts?"

Guanlan’s nose stung. When the King appeared, he had already realized his escorts were likely dead. He never imagined that the mission given by Tuju and Yejiang involved opposing the King of Hunt-West. Had he known, he would have fled the Tianshan Escape entirely rather than raise a hand against him.

He had fought side-by-side with those escorts for three years, and the bond was deep. Overwhelmed by the news of their deaths, he struggled to contain his grief. After a long silence, he nodded. "They were."

"I killed them because they would not speak," the King continued. "And what of you?"

"This student... this student..." Guanlan repeated the words, unable to continue. After a moment, the King let out an impatient hum. Guanlan shuddered, gritted his teeth, and said, "This student... is willing to speak!"

"Speak. Who initiated this, and what was the plan?"

"The one who led it is named Liuchou, a Marquis-General of my Tianshan Escape. The objective was to assassinate a prisoner in the jail," Guanlan said, eyes lowered. "My role was to assist him in the execution and the escape."

The King of Hunt-West shook his head. "I saw no corpse; he must not have been killed."

"Huh?" Guanlan looked up in shock. "That is impossible. We agreed to kill him. How could there be no body?"

"Circumstances changed, so he was not killed!" The King rolled his eyes. "Tell me, if you had killed him, how were you planning to escape?"

"Our plan was as follows..."

Guanlan dared not hide anything and revealed Liuchou’s entire plan. The King thought for a moment, then probed toward the west. Sure enough, he found another waiting cloud-skiff. Unlike the first, however, though people were waiting on the skiff, no one had headed toward it.

Seeing the King’s dark expression, Guanlan was filled with dread. But suddenly, the King of Hunt-West began to laugh. He seemed unfazed, even relieved. He flicked his sleeves and flew back toward the city of Xiyi.

His movement was light, elegant, and transcendent, as if he were completely at ease.

The King of Hunt-West, returning.