Demon Sword Sect’s Undercover
Chapter 372 - 372 371 Cavalry Charge

372: Chapter 371: Cavalry Charge 372: Chapter 371: Cavalry Charge Hou Niao tried to react, but it was already too late to turn the tide.

His strongest life-saving tactic, Transforming Body, had barely begun to unfold; how could it be executed now?

The sword light penetrated his body; there was no escape.

His Dharma Form was outside; support couldn’t arrive in time.

In the final moment, he finally understood the true essence of combat.

Would there be an afterlife?

Hou Niao’s body plummeted into the sea, but this was merely the beginning.

As Hou Niao turned his head to find his next target, a scene not far away greatly surprised him.

Huang Qigong of the Cang Pirates was caught by a Magical Treasure, and then the cultivator held his neck with one hand and casually flicked a trace of Ghost Fire with the other, which entered through Huang’s mouth.

In the blink of an eye, Huang was burned to a tattered sail, turning into a charred stump!

He wasn’t the only one pretending to be a pig to eat a tiger!

The melee had barely begun when five had already fallen from the sky—three travellers and two pirates; but the implications were different, for the pirates who died were two leaders!

He wasn’t the only one surprised; the Lady of Bamboo Island was, too.

She looked towards Old Cai and Old Peng, “Fellow Daoists, is this a trap?”

The chaos of battle raged, everyone had their own adversary, and no one had the luxury of worrying about the life or death of others amidst crisis, and with their Divine Sense, most couldn’t do so.

Old Peng was somewhat bewildered, but Old Cai seemed to have an epiphany.

Regardless of whether it was true or not, what they needed most now was the morale to fight to the death.

He laughed loudly, “Let the Lady be informed that not a single one of the Cang Pirates will escape today!”

The Lady of Bamboo Island sighed inwardly; this was a fight to the death, and Bamboo Island now had no way out.

…The most shocked were Yuan Xizhi and Luo Guanyu.

They knew very well the strength of their own brethren, who were only slightly less skilled than themselves.

To be killed in such a short amount of time, ambush was one aspect, but there must be genuine experts hiding among the travellers, taking advantage in the chaos.

During the melee, they too had each killed an opponent.

With dozens of Battle Arenas in the sky, who could keep track?

Hence, they were completely in the dark about who had actually made the move.

But one thing was clear: these were ruthless individuals—not to mention the cold-heartedness of watching an ally being killed without blinking an eye, just to catch enemies off guard during the chaos.

To that extent, they were even more merciless than these pirates.

A fairy so capable of ruthless sacrifice, what kinds of people were they?

The pirates hadn’t collapsed yet, but they were only two lives away from it.

The adversaries were hidden among the travellers; everyone was a suspect, everyone had a motive.

Such battles were impossible to fight, for they were forced to concentrate most of their energy on guarding against the unknown.

The situation was beyond salvation.

Pirates are not an army; they have no discipline.

Pirates are not sects; they lack faith.

But they do have a tradition: when things look bad, they take off.

Pirates don’t fight to the death.

When situations are unclear, they prefer to flee and regather their forces in secret.

Luo Guanyu’s Divine Sense warned, “Second Brother?”

Yuan Xizhi didn’t hesitate, “Tell the brothers to retreat, let’s see if they give chase.”

Killing ordinary pirates was not worth it; to kill, he had to target those leaders, or else the trouble would be endless.

Similarly, the other traveller who was pretending to be a pig to eat a tiger didn’t act rashly; they chose the same strategy: hide in the shadows, waiting for the opportunity to strike.

The melee started quickly and ended even faster; nobody expected such an outcome.

However, the problem was not truly resolved.

The pirates’ retreat merely left the Bamboo Island cultivators and the travel group with a dilemma—whether to leave or stay; that was the question.

Plainly, the members of the travel group had the freedom to come and go as they pleased.

Once they left the Lizhi Sea, the pirates wouldn’t be able to hold them accountable.

But it wasn’t the same for the Bamboo Island cultivators.

As the hosts, they couldn’t escape their island; they either had to surrender or be annihilated by the Cang Pirates, and no one could protect them in the long run.

The pirates needed to do nothing more than wait to see the cultivators on Bamboo Island sit as ducks awaiting their demise.

The worst kind of help is an incomplete help, where the helper escalates and worsens the situation then leaves, putting the host in an awkward and uncomfortable position.

Old Peng and Old Cai insisted on leading the group away, “The Cang Pirates will definitely return.

They have a formidable reputation in the Lizhi Sea and would not tolerate such a great loss without retaliation.

The problem is that we don’t know when exactly they will come back.

Do we stay here and wait?

How long would we have to wait?

If the pirates return with more men, would we be able to handle it?

We are a travel group, here to experience the Lizhi Sea, not to join a battle.

This was clearly agreed upon when we signed the contract.

We will lead the team away, and if anyone wishes to stay to help Bamboo Island, that can only be a personal decision.”

Old Peng and Old Cai were adamant.

They had the courage to encourage everyone to fight bravely during the chaos, but that was a necessity born of the situation.

Now that the immediate danger had passed, of course, they would revert to their true nature, unwilling to provoke trouble.

Everyone was silent; everyone was torn.

As travelers, they were also cultivators with ethics.

Although no Daoist sect would tout altruism as a principle, supporting the weak and opposing the strong is almost a basic standard for every cultivator, especially for the peaceful, centuries-old Bamboo Island cultivators who had worked so hard.

For the sake of safety, they should leave, yet taking that step required overcoming a psychological barrier first.

Especially since they were under the scrutiny of others, no one wanted to be a coward!

Courage can’t be spoken into existence, especially when one’s own strength is far inferior to the opponent’s, who might return next time with even more pirates.

Staying on Bamboo Island could very well mean death, the end of decades of painstaking cultivation.

Would it be meaningful?

Perhaps it would be, perhaps not; each person holds different beliefs.

The uncomfortable silence represented their feelings.

Some travelers regretted not taking the opportunity to leave during the chaotic fight, so they wouldn’t have to be in such a difficult situation now.

Survival versus dignity, courage versus cowardice, personal safety versus the honor of their sects, sticking to principles versus prudent self-preservation…

too many contradictions.

The Tongxuan Realm is the most fundamental level a cultivator reaches on the path of the Great Dao.

From this point on, everyone begins to slowly form their views on cultivation, life, and the world.

None of these philosophies can be quickly attained; they will gradually mature over time.

One day they will no longer be plagued by such contradictions, knowing when to leave and when to stay.

But for now, they were still mired in these conflicts, over choices, life and death, and inexplicable matters of face.

Of course, there are a few with resolute wills, though they are rare.

This is an important phase in the growth of a cultivator, one that no one can avoid.

Then, some achieve greatness, others remain unsung… It is these countless experiences that create the rich and varied life of a cultivator.

…Gentlemen abide by the laws of nature and can foresee the seasons.

There are standard forces in advantage and disadvantage, fixed patterns in gain and loss.