Chaotic World Book
Chapter 87 - 85: Sharpening the Knife

Chapter 87: Chapter 85: Sharpening the Knife

Leaving the tavern just as the rain stopped, Zhao Changhe’s mood had improved a bit, and seeing his beloved horse had eaten contently with no unfortunate incidents like horse theft, he felt even better.

He thought about it and of course, no one would dare steal his horse, not when he was carrying such a terrifying knife on his back...

Zhao Changhe rewarded the server a piece of broken silver, was about to step up to mount, then suddenly remembered something, and put his foot back down, bending over to meticulously inspect the stirrups and saddle for any foreign objects.

Having grown too comfortable in the Cui Family, he’d nearly forgotten these precautions.

Finding nothing amiss, Zhao Changhe sighed in relief and mounted the horse.

The middle-aged man from the Demon Suppression Department who had been standing at the entrance watching him showed a look of appreciation and handed over a sheet of paper, "This is information on Han Wubing."

Zhao Changhe didn’t stand on ceremony and directly took it, "Thanks."

The middle-aged man said, "I am Wu Weiyang of the Demon Suppression Department, perhaps there will be a chance for us to meet again in the future. As for the turmoil ahead, the Demon Suppression Department will not interfere, please be careful on your journey."

After finishing his words, his figure flashed and disappeared.

With that speed, at least the Mystical Gate Seventh or Eighth Layer... The Demon Suppression Department certainly had some skills. Zhao Changhe wasn’t too impressed, after all, he had already drunk tea in the company of the ninth-ranked individual on the Heavenly List, he didn’t care about this.

However, he felt that there was some implication in Wu Weiyang’s words, mentioning the Demon Suppression Department would not intervene in the upcoming troubles and advising him to be careful on the road. Did it mean that once he arrived, if there was something he needed a hand with, he could seek out the local Demon Suppression Department?

Zhao Changhe didn’t think too much about it for the moment, riding his snow-trampling horse Wuzhui along the official road, he unfolded and closely examined the information given by Wu Weiyang.

Han Wubing, nineteen years old this year... Even younger than him. It was hard to tell in the old temple, with such a cold demeanor.

Originally a common disciple of the Ba Mountain Sword House, he wasn’t outstanding in terms of talent, but due to his hard work and dedication to sword practice, he was considered among the middle tier of the disciples. A reserved person who speaks little and prefers the company of his sword, he wasn’t particularly popular and thus didn’t have much presence.

Three years ago, the Sword Pavilion group came to Ancient Sword Lake to try their luck in finding the Ancient Sword left from the previous epoch. At that time, Han Wubing was only at the Mystical Gate Third Layer and followed the team.

The legend of the Divine Sword in the Ancient Sword Lake has always had followers not just because of the stories passed down by elders, but also because it would emit extraordinary phenomena. Occasionally, there would be alarming Sword Qi eruptions in the middle of the lake, often inexplicably killing those who came seeking the sword. Yet after meticulous search, nothing would be found, leaving everyone clueless about the origin of the Sword Qi.

Because of this, everyone believed in the extraordinary nature of the place, but no power was willing to stay and search for the sword long-term for fear of dying without reason. Hence, the Ancient Sword Lake was never dominated by any single entity, yet individuals from the Worldly Society continued to visit throughout the years to try their luck.

But after so many years, nothing was found. Cui Yuanyang had mentioned before that the Cui Family had organized searches several times to no avail. With Cui Wenjing’s intelligence, martial prowess, and influential power all ranked among the best of the era, if he couldn’t find it, no one else had much hope either. Consequently, larger powers gradually gave up on the search, considering it a waste of time.

While the major forces stepped back, it didn’t stop the adventurers of the Worldly Society from continuing their attempts. No one dared to stay by the lakeshore, but Sword Lake City, located a dozen miles away, was extremely bustling and lively. The number of inns, brothels, taverns, and gambling houses might even surpass those in the Capital, due to the sheer number of outsiders.

This created an environment with a complex mix of powers and a variety of characters, not an easy place for a neophyte of the Mystical Gate Third or Fourth Layer to casually explore.

At that time, Han Wubing accompanied the team merely as part of a growth experience organized by the Sword Pavilion. Being unpopular, he did not ally himself with his fellow disciples and searched alone by the lakeside. However, he unexpectedly made a good friend, and with an instant connection, they began searching together.

As for the reasons behind this unlikely friendship and how someone with poor social ties could suddenly find such kinship, the information from the Demon Suppression Department couldn’t provide much detail. After all, Han Wubing himself would not be available for an interview, so it was skimmed over.

They did not find the Ancient Sword, but, as if by sheer dumb luck, Han Wubing and his friend found the remains of a predecessor who had died there and inherited some sword techniques and a treasure sword. The friend took the sword, and Han Wubing took the secret book, both were overjoyed.

However, this joy was short-lived as they encountered fellow disciples from the Sword Pavilion. Relying on their power, they claimed that both the sword and the secret book should be the property of the Sword Pavilion.

In the end, the friend was killed, the sword taken, and Han Wubing, in a burst of rage, tore the secret book and left the Sword Pavilion. From then on, he wandered the earth, spoke even less, and made a living as a Bounty Hunter.

The incident was quite simple, and the report provided by the Demon Suppression Department was utterly devoid of embellishment, just a dry account of the events. Zhao Changhe couldn’t even stir his emotions; he mused that the long-awaited tale of Han Wubing was nothing but a common story in the Worldly Society—abusing power to rob and murder, and angry youth fleeing home. Even on Qidian, this was a template only used a decade ago.

However, returning to the main topic, Han Wubing was indeed a man of honor. Three years of challenge matches had taken him to the Mystical Gate Five Layer. During the Qingming festival, he decisively killed his enemies to honor the dead, a joyful venture indeed.

Zhao Changhe couldn’t help it and took a sip from his liquor gourd, "Exhilarating, an opponent like this calls for a duel—it fills one with anticipation... not like those ghosts and monsters that even if they paved the entire road on the journey, are merely like flies, only annoying."

After saying this, he put away his gourd and suddenly, with a flick of his hand, a Copper Coin whistled through the air.

From the roadside treetops, suddenly someone screamed and fell from the tree.

"Really thought I was so engrossed in reading that I wouldn’t notice someone approaching?" Zhao Changhe laughed out loud and spurred his horse onward, "Knives falling from the sky? Nothing but a whetstone to me!"

"Swish, swish!" Several sword beams suddenly surged forward, their Sword Qi screeching as they aimed directly for his face.

In the middle of his charge, Zhao Changhe reached back and grabbed the hilt of the sword protruding from his shoulder.

The sword arrived, and the horse was there.

"Clang!" The Dragon Sparrow was unsheathed, and the ferocious blade swept across in rage.

The assailants were all taken aback, but how could they avoid a blade with such a wide arc while in mid-air?

Several longswords were simultaneously raised to block the path of the blade, a sound like breaking dry reeds followed, the longswords were snapped, and a blood rain filled the sky.

Riding the snow-colored Wuzhui, Zhao Changhe charged through severed limbs and splattered blood, leaving the blood rain behind him, while the Dragon Sparrow of Great Xia proudly screeched in excitement.

Ahead, other assassins wanted to strike, but seeing such a scene, they were dumbfounded—who would dare to move?

A bit further away, it seemed that there were people lying in ambush with a Horse Trip Rope deployed.

Zhao Changhe, with his sharp eyes, saw this and steered his horse towards the side of the road.

The person who was about to pull the rope hadn’t anticipated the speed of the charging Wuzhui, far exceeding his prediction. Before he could lift his hand, the horse was already upon him.

And the length and attack range of the blade that exceeded predictions... The people behind watched helplessly as a dark red arc sliced through the air, "Crack!"—one strike, two pieces.

Only half a corpse remained standing there, stupidly holding onto one end of the Horse Trip Rope while the Wuzhui had already shot forward by more than a dozen yards.

"Whether you’re from the Blood God Sect or Tingxue Tower, or just bandits trying to steal my horse and sword..." Zhao Changhe sheathed his blade and leaped onto his horse, laughing loudly: "I ’Don’t hide your tracks’ on my journey—come at me if you dare!"

Wu Weiyang stood in the distance, looking on and clicked his tongue, "Such bravery; the head actually worried about his safety on the road... He says he doesn’t want our help, but in his heart, he’s probably already excited, afraid that the enemies might not be strong enough."

A subordinate beside him sighed, "A man like this, if he doesn’t fall prematurely in the Worldly Society, will surely dominate the world."

Without answering, Wu Weiyang knew what his subordinate implied.

Such men often face high odds of premature death... but recalling Zhao Changhe’s careful inspection before mounting his horse, Wu Weiyang still felt that this man wouldn’t die.

He may seem reckless, but he’s meticulous at heart. If he truly were as rash as some think, his grave grass would already be three feet tall by now.

"Let’s go back and report to the head; I wonder if she’ll actually come to see him personally." Wu Weiyang muttered somewhat puzzled: "Strange, the head’s interest in this man seems somewhat extraordinary."