Martial Dao: I Can Enhance My Talents

[Mission: Exterminate the Fierce Tiger Mountain bandit group]

[Intel: This group is entrenched on Fierce Tiger Mountain, with over thirty members. The leader is suspected to be an Early-Stage Eighth Grade Martial Artist. They burn, kill, and plunder, having committed countless atrocities.]

[Requirement: Must be accepted by a disciple with at least an Early-Stage Eighth Grade Cultivation. The leader’s head must be presented as proof.]

[Location: Fierce Tiger Mountain (Map provided)]

[Reward: One hundred Contribution Points.]

One hundred Contribution Points was not a particularly generous reward for Fang Han, who was now an Eighth Grade Martial Artist.

But he wasn’t interested in the official reward.

A group of bandits that had been entrenched for years, with an Eighth Grade Martial Artist in charge, had likely accumulated wealth far exceeding one hundred Contribution Points.

That was what he was truly after.

Without further hesitation, Fang Han turned and walked toward the mission registration counter.

Behind the counter sat a middle-aged Steward with a stern face and somewhat cloudy eyes, his head bowed as he flipped through a thick register.

"Steward, this disciple would like to accept the mission to exterminate the Fierce Tiger Mountain bandits."

Fang Han presented his Identity Jade Token, his voice steady.

The Steward looked up, his gaze lingering on Fang Han’s face for a moment, his eyes devoid of warmth.

He took the Jade Token in a strictly business-like manner, swiped it over an inkstone-shaped device, and registered the information.

Then, he retrieved a sheet of parchment from under the counter, on which the mountain’s terrain was sketched with simple lines.

He pushed the parchment map and the Identity Jade Token back to Fang Han, his tone indifferent as he spoke.

"The time limit for this mission is half a month. If you are late or fail, you must report to the Steward Hall to explain the situation."

"I understand."

Fang Han took the map and the Jade Token, cupped his fist in a salute, and turned to leave without the slightest hesitation.

As he walked out of the Task Hall, the warm sunlight washed over him, a stark contrast to the cool shade of the hall’s interior.

"Fierce Tiger Mountain..."

Fang Han stood on the steps and slowly unfolded the map.

The map was rather crude, showing only the location of Fierce Tiger Mountain, but not the specific location of the Fierce Tiger Stronghold. It was clear he would have to find it himself.

He carefully folded the map and tucked it inside his robes.

He didn’t linger. With a single movement, he executed the Wind Shadow Step. His body became like a wisp of light-cyan smoke, speeding down the stone path. He soon reached the foot of the mountain and left the Sect.

He hurried off in the direction of Fierce Tiger Mountain.

...

「Two days later.」

The silhouette of a vast, rolling mountain range covered in dense vegetation appeared on the horizon.

The terrain wasn’t particularly treacherous, but the area was immense. Dozens of connected peaks stretched for tens of miles, with ancient trees reaching for the sky and tangled vines everywhere. As far as the eye could see, there was only a deep, profound green.

This was Fierce Tiger Mountain, just as the map had indicated.

’This area is huge...’

Fang Han stood at the foot of the mountain, his brow furrowing slightly as he gazed at the vast forest before him.

A group of only thirty to forty bandits hiding in here might not be like finding a needle in a haystack, but it would still be extremely difficult.

WHOOSH!

His figure flickered and vanished into the dense jungle.

Inside the forest, the light was dim and the air was humid. A thick layer of fallen leaves covered the ground, muffling his footsteps so they were nearly silent.

Fang Han pushed his senses to their absolute limit, his eyes and ears on high alert, refusing to miss a single suspicious trace.

However, a full day passed quickly.

The last rays of the setting sun filtered through the gaps in the leaves, casting mottled patterns of light and shadow in the forest.

Standing on the branch of a massive tree, Fang Han ate his dry rations and surveyed his surroundings, his frown deepening.

Aside from discovering a few long-abandoned traces of temporary camps left by persons unknown, he had found nothing.

’It seems the Sect has specialized Cultivation Secret Techniques for tracking and searching. I’ll have to exchange for one to practice in the future.’

Fang Han thought to himself.

With the help of such a Cultivation Technique, his search efficiency would improve dramatically, and he wouldn’t be running around like a headless chicken.

He found a hidden cave to spend the night, meditating to regulate his breathing and recover his strength.

The next morning, he continued his search.

The days passed one by one. In the blink of an eye, it was the fifth day.

Just as Fang Han’s patience was about to run out, he finally made a discovery.

His persistence paid off.

On the afternoon of the fifth day, as he stealthily approached a relatively hidden valley nestled between two mountains, his nostrils twitched. He caught the faint, almost imperceptible scent of smoke and the vague sound of human voices.

His spirits lifted. With a light tap of his toes, he scaled the cliff on one side as silently as a leopard cat, peering down from behind the cover of dense shrubs.

Deep in the valley, dozens of simple wooden huts and sheds were built against the mountainside. A rough circle of sharpened wooden stakes formed a crude stockade around them.

A few men in motley clothes and carrying weapons were lazily walking around or chatting near the gate, while some clothes were drying in a clearing in the distance.

It was Fierce Tiger Stronghold!

’No wonder this mission clearly had extra spoils but wasn’t listed as a premium task. Just finding this base took so much time and effort.’

Fang Han couldn’t help but sigh internally.

If he hadn’t cultivated a Middle Grade Stepping Technique to the Minor Achievement stage, his movement speed wouldn’t be so fast. Being able to cover vast distances in a short time had made the search much easier.

An ordinary disciple might have used up the entire half-month time limit and still not found this den of thieves hidden deep in the old mountain forest.

’To take down all thirty-plus men, I’ll have to use some tricks!’

He wasn’t in a hurry to act. Like a hibernating viper, Fang Han carefully observed the stronghold’s layout, the positions of the sentries, and the patterns of activity.

There were over thirty people in the stronghold. It would be troublesome if they were startled and scattered in all directions.

He decided to use assassination to silently take care of some of them first.

Night fell. Bonfires were lit in the stronghold, and the noise of revelry rose before gradually fading into silence. All that remained were a few bandits on night watch, hugging their weapons and dozing off at their posts.

It was a dark and windy night—the perfect time for killing.

Like a true shadow, Fang Han used the cover of night to silently slide down the cliff, kill the sentries, and sneak into the stronghold.

He chose a wooden hut at the very edge, from which heavy snores could be heard.

He gently sliced through the door bolt with his sword and slipped inside.

In the darkness, a bandit was sprawled out on a simple bed, fast asleep.

PFFT—

Fang Han’s eyes were ice-cold. The Cyan Blade Sword struck like a viper, precisely slitting the man’s throat.

The bandit’s body shuddered violently, but he died without so much as a grunt.

Fang Han didn’t stop. He repeated the process, his figure weaving through the shadows of the stronghold. Every strike took a life.

In just an hour, more than ten bandits were silently eliminated, either in their sleep or while they were alone.

"There’s an enemy!"

Just as he was about to find his next target, a bandit who had woken up to relieve himself smelled the stench of blood, discovered his companion’s corpse, and immediately shouted a warning.

That cry shattered the night’s silence like a stone thrown into a calm lake.

"We’re under attack! We’re under attack!"

In an instant, the sounds of warning whistles, shocked cries, and angry curses erupted throughout the stronghold. The once-silent camp exploded with activity like a kicked hornet’s nest.

The remaining twenty-odd bandits grabbed their weapons and rushed out of their huts and sheds, their faces a mixture of fury and panic.

’A pity.’

Fang Han sighed internally, knowing the assassination phase was over.

He stopped hiding. His figure flashed as he leaped from the shadows, proactively moving to engage the panicked bandits.

"He’s over here!"

"Kill him!"

Seeing that Fang Han was alone and so young, the bandits’ fear subsided slightly. Their viciousness flared, and they rushed forward, brandishing their swords and sabers.

However, they soon learned the meaning of despair.

PFFT! PFFT! PFFT!

Fang Han’s movements were ghostly as he weaved through the crowd with ease. The bandits’ attacks often couldn’t even touch the corner of his robes.

And the Cyan Blade Sword in his hand became Death’s invitation.

With every flicker of his sword’s light, a man fell.

Whether it was an ordinary brute who had practiced martial arts for a few years or a Ninth Grade Martial Artist, none of them were a match for him.

Often, a single flash of his sword meant a weapon was shattered and blood was sent flying.

Screams rose and fell one after another as severed limbs flew through the air. The open ground in the stronghold was soon dyed red with blood.

"Boy, don’t get cocky!"

A roar like a clap of thunder came from the depths of the stronghold.

An exceptionally burly man appeared. He had a full, wiry beard and was bare-chested, revealing bronze skin covered in scars. He carried a giant axe the size of a door panel and charged forward like a rampaging bull.

The Inner Qi fluctuations radiating from his body had shockingly reached the Middle Stage of Eighth Grade, not the Early Stage of Eighth Grade mentioned in the intel!

It was none other than the chieftain of Fierce Tiger Stronghold—Ba Xiong!

’Middle Stage of Eighth Grade? Looks like the Sect’s intel had some errors.’

Fang Han’s gaze hardened, but he showed no fear.

Facing Ba Xiong’s powerful, heavy-handed axe strike, which seemed capable of splitting mountains and shattering stone, he chose not to meet it head-on.

Executing the Wind Shadow Step, his body drifted sideways like a willow catkin in the wind, easily dodging the axe’s edge.

At the same time, with a flick of his wrist, the Cyan Blade Sword transformed into a streak of cyan lightning, stabbing straight at the opening under Ba Xiong’s ribs, exposed by the force of his swing.

Ba Xiong’s axe hit nothing but air, smashing into the ground and leaving a deep crater as dirt flew everywhere.

He was shocked to see how swift and cunning Fang Han’s swordsmanship was and hurriedly brought his axe back to block.

CLANG!

The sword and axe clashed with a deafening sound.

Fang Han felt a tremendous force travel up his arm, making it slightly numb. He used the momentum to float backward, dispersing the impact.

Ba Xiong, on the other hand, was forced back half a step by the sharp, destructive power transmitted through the sword.

"Boy, die!"

Ba Xiong roared and attacked again with his axe. His technique was wide and sweeping, powerful and heavy, stirring up vicious gusts of wind.

Fang Han’s expression was calm. He pushed his Wind Shadow Step and Wind-Splitting Swordsmanship to their limits, his figure flickering unpredictably as his Sword Techniques targeted the openings and vital points in Ba Xiong’s attacks.

Ba Xiong possessed immense brute strength and Eighth Grade Middle-Stage Inner Qi, but he was completely suppressed by Fang Han’s exquisite swordsmanship and Body Technique. He was forced onto the defensive, roaring in frustration as several bloody cuts soon appeared on his body.

Within just a few exchanges, Ba Xiong was already struggling to defend himself.

Fang Han spotted an opening. Executing the move "Sky Splitting Gold-Breaking," his sword’s light bizarrely bypassed the axe blade and precisely stabbed into Ba Xiong’s right shoulder blade.

SQUELCH!

Blood splattered!

Ba Xiong screamed in pain, nearly dropping his giant axe. Knowing he was outmatched, a look of horror and ruthlessness flashed in his eyes. With extreme decisiveness, he turned and fled toward the dense forest outside the stronghold.

Empowered by his Eighth Grade Middle-Stage Inner Qi, his legs moved with considerable speed.