Chapter Fifteen: The Fisherman Reaps the Rewards

This was a night stained with blood.

Under the hazy moonlight, within the dim, dense forest, Qin Feiyang and the Wolf King moved like two specters—appearing and vanishing without a trace. Every so often, a wretched scream echoed through the mountains.

Three hours later, in a secluded valley, man and wolf worked in seamless tandem, swiftly dispatching another assassin.

“That’s the fiftieth. Only one left,” Qin Feiyang said, gripping the Frost Snow Sword, his entire body bathed in blood, transformed into a god of slaughter. The Wolf King was no different. Its once pristine fur was now stained scarlet, and its emerald eyes glowed with a terrifying fierceness.

“Come, let’s deal with the last one,” Qin Feiyang commanded, and together they left the valley, plunging into the forest’s shadows.

“What in the world is happening?” muttered a short, middle-aged man, his back pressed against a tree, eyes darting anxiously. The screams had all come from Black Devil Fortress’s own men. Had Qin Feiyang and that beast been possessed by demons? One companion after another had fallen, each cry of agony tolling like a death knell, and his nerves were fraying to the breaking point. Who were truly the killers now? Were Qin Feiyang and the Wolf King the assassins? His mind was in turmoil; everything had been turned upside down.

“No, I can’t stay here any longer. If I do, I’ll surely die!” Even assassins, trained to withstand pressure, could falter. Now, the short man was afraid. He had no courage left to face Qin Feiyang and the Wolf King, those harbingers of death. Without looking back, he fled toward the mountain’s edge.

But as he reached a gully, Qin Feiyang and the Wolf King leapt out—Frost Snow Sword plunged straight into his heart.

“I still couldn’t escape…” he murmured, regret thick in his voice. “If there’s a next life, I’ll never be an assassin again… In the past, I killed others… Now, I am killed… This is retribution…”

With those final words, he collapsed, dying with remorse.

“Too late for repentance now,” Qin Feiyang whispered, lifting his gaze ahead. A cold smile curled his lips. “Now it’s time to deal with the two leaders. White-Eyed Wolf, it won’t be so easy with them. We must be careful.”

The Wolf King nodded, murderous intent gleaming in its eyes. Qin Feiyang glanced at the sky, then entered the forest with the Wolf King, seeking their targets.

Dawn was already beginning to break.

The Black Devil Fortress’s chief and the elder in black were both warrior masters. Qin Feiyang and the Wolf King’s sole advantage lay in the darkness. If they couldn’t defeat the two before sunrise, they would have to abandon their pursuit.

Less than half an hour passed before Qin Feiyang found the two.

He and the Wolf King hid behind a giant tree, peering ahead with a hint of doubt. A hundred meters away stood a barren hill, perhaps fifty or sixty meters high. The chief and the elder stood together atop the hill, conspicuously exposed.

The Wolf King growled softly at Qin Feiyang, as if asking when to strike.

“Something’s not right. Wait,” Qin Feiyang whispered.

On the hill, the elder swept his gaze across the forest below, frowning. “Chief, isn’t this a bit too conspicuous?”

The chief replied, “That’s exactly the effect I want.”

The elder pondered, then smiled in realization. “Brilliant, chief. The view is clear here. As long as we stand here, Qin Feiyang and that beast can’t ambush us, even if they find us.”

“Precisely. If they don’t show themselves, once daylight comes, they’ll have nowhere to hide. Then their fate is ours to decide,” the chief said with a cold laugh.

“Ah, pity for those men—likely all dead by now,” the elder sighed.

“They were useless, expendable. Their deaths mean nothing. Besides, it benefits us…” The chief sneered. “We can claim all the treasure for ourselves.”

A ruthless gleam flickered deep in his eyes. Hidden within his sleeve was a pitch-black dagger, its blade glinting coldly.

“That’s true. In fact, we should thank Qin Feiyang,” the elder chuckled, stealing a glance at the pouch tied to the chief’s waist, a glint of greed in his aged eyes.

Suddenly, the elder struck—his palm slammed into the chief’s chest, true energy surging from his hand, murderous intent blazing in his eyes.

A thunderous blow. Blood sprayed from the chief’s mouth as he was sent flying. His chest was torn open, caving inward; even his heart was shattered by the force.

“You… you actually betrayed me?” the chief stared at the elder in disbelief.

The elder stepped forward, smiling coldly. “You wanted to kill me for the treasure, just as I wanted to kill you. I simply acted first.”

“I didn’t! I swear, I truly wanted to split the treasure with you!” the chief roared.

“I’m not one of those fools. That trick won’t work on me. After so many years together, who knows you better than I? I can guess your every thought. You used Qin Feiyang and the beast to eliminate everyone, claiming you’d split the treasure with me. But in truth, you already harbored murderous intent. If I’m not mistaken, once Qin Feiyang is dead, you would immediately turn on me. Am I wrong?” The elder’s lips curled with mocking contempt.

“Listen to me—I didn’t!” the chief shouted.

“We are cut from the same cloth, willing to do anything for money. Why pretend?” The elder’s tone was icy. “But now, it doesn’t matter. The treasure will be mine. After I kill you, I’ll deal with Qin Feiyang and that beast at my leisure.”

His eyes blazed with killing intent, true energy surging over his fist as he launched a powerful punch.

Just as death was imminent, the chief suddenly grabbed the elder’s arm with a large hand. Lightning-fast, he stabbed the hidden dagger into the elder’s abdomen.

A scream tore from the elder’s lips. He kicked the chief with all his might, sending him tumbling down the hill like a ball.

“You even prepared a dagger, and still claim you didn’t want to kill me?” the elder glared at the weapon lodged in his belly, fury rising. Enduring the pain, he charged at the chief with murderous intent.

But at that moment, a wolf’s howl erupted from the forest nearby.

The elder paused, turning toward the sound. Qin Feiyang and the Wolf King were sprinting his way. He glanced down at the chief rolling toward the foot of the hill, his gaze darkening.

If he chased after the pouch now, he’d run straight into Qin Feiyang.

Were he unwounded, he wouldn’t fear the man and wolf—he could dispatch them with a wave of his hand. But with the dagger in his abdomen, he couldn’t channel his true energy—his strength was halved.

Qin Feiyang, though only a seven-star warrior, had managed to eliminate fifty-one assassins. Clearly, he possessed some extraordinary abilities.

Weighing his options, the elder found he lacked the courage to continue.

“Damn it!” he cursed, decisively turning and fleeing down the other side of the hill, vanishing into the forest. He coveted the treasure, but valued his life more.

The chief rolled to a stop beside a large boulder, his life ebbing away fast.

Qin Feiyang arrived and said to the Wolf King, “Go up and check if that old dog has gotten far.”

The Wolf King nodded, immediately running up the hill.

Qin Feiyang looked down at the dying chief.

“I was just considering whether to give up killing you both, but I never expected such a drama would unfold. Haven’t you heard the saying: ‘When the snipe and the clam struggle, the fisherman profits’?”

He tore the pouch from the chief’s waist, weighing it in his hand. “Thank you, chief.”

He turned to leave, but the chief suddenly grasped his ankle.

Qin Feiyang looked back, frowning. “Want me to finish you off?”

“Qin Feiyang, I beg you—do me one favor,” the chief pleaded, his voice faltering.

“Not interested,” Qin Feiyang replied coolly.

“I’m a dying man. Please, have mercy…” the chief begged.

Qin Feiyang raised his brows. “What is it?”

“A jade pendant… on my neck…” he gasped. “Please… deliver it to the Martial Hall… you must hand it… personally… to someone called Cao Lang… once he sees the pendant, he’ll know… I wasn’t killed by you…”

It took him more than twenty breaths to utter this brief message. When he finished, he collapsed, dead.

“Martial Hall?” Qin Feiyang frowned deeply. Wasn’t this man an assassin? How was he connected to the Martial Hall? And who was Cao Lang?

Just then, the Wolf King returned, shaking its head.

“He’s gravely injured, won’t get far. Let’s bury this man first,” Qin Feiyang said, stepping forward and smashing his fist into the ground.

The earth shook, dust swirling as a two-meter-deep pit appeared.

Qin Feiyang went to the chief’s body, unbuttoned his collar, and sure enough, found a jade pendant hanging from his neck. It was a deep green, simple and unadorned, hardly resembling any treasure.

He took it, examined it closely, but found nothing remarkable. He slipped it into his pocket, picked up the chief’s corpse, and laid it in the pit.

“Ah, in your next life, don’t be an assassin,” Qin Feiyang sighed.

The events had left a deep impression on him. The human heart was truly treacherous. He drew a conclusion: never trust an assassin, never befriend one, for that was courting disaster.

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