Mystical Journey

Cynthia gasped loudly, and finally started to pant. Her sweat slowly dripped from her temples.

"Garen is becoming more monstrous day by day," Jack on her side expressed with a wry smile, "Even looking into his eyes would scare me. I didn’t even feel that when I faced a fort full of machine guns, let alone standing up to him like you did."

"He’s not that much older than me!" Cynthia squeezed her words out resentfully, "I can’t forget the way he forced me into desperation! No matter where, I will be number one! The assassination training camp, the intensive training camp, even in the company! We’re the same age, why does he get to be so much stronger!"

Recalling the speech she heard on the plane, her hope reignited.

"You heard the guy, as long as we reach level 4 in Gun Arts, there will be a chance for us to harm a Grandmaster of Combat. If I combined Martial Arts training with Gun Arts, my power will increase exponentially!"

"You…" Jack didn’t know what to say, so he laid on the floor, letting his sweat drip on the ground.

Lake Shore West City, Red Sand Sword Gate main branch.

An ancient oriental quartet yard, surrounded with brown walls and covered with cinnabar red roof.

In a wide wooden training hall, five people in red were lighting the incense at a drawn picture with utter respect.

The leader was the current Red Sand Sword Gate’s Master, a handsome man with his red hair hanging past his shoulders. After offering the incense, he caressed his sword by his waist, and turned around to face the four Elders by his side.

"Elders, the traitor is back."

Out of the four Elders with white hair, one immediately gnashed his teeth in anger.

"That traitor dared…!"

The other three Elders, two older men and an older lady, didn’t wear any expressions on their faces, the ambience of the room was extra heavy.

"Who will fight against him?" The Master gave each Elder a once-over.

The Elder who spoke earlier shut up.

Silence.

The four Elders didn’t dare to speak.

The Master sighed, "Don’t you all hate him to his bones? Now that he’s here, why are you quiet as a mouse?"

Again, silence.

The Master looked aside in disappointment, not knowing what to say.

"Master, Clark is too dangerous. I recommend we should kill him together, no need to follow whatever duel commandments." An elder murmured.

"Elder Kane is right. We should all join forces and utilize all the power we can get, we must keep this disgrace here!"

"I propose to have five of our finest disciples join the mission. We’ll also get the chairmen from the branches to help, us Elders will support from the sideline."

"We can set up an ambush with firearm squad."

Each of the Elders started to discuss with vigor.

"Stop," the Master beckoned helplessly. "What about Beo?"

"Still at bedrest. He was hurt quite badly in this mission with the Confederation." An Elder answered.

Clark. The disgrace and blemish of Red Sand Sword Gate.

He was the strongest prodigy Red Sand Sword Gate! With only three years, he managed to grow into a Grandmaster of Combat from someone who has no foundation.

He was revered as the Palosa of Red Sand Sword. His seniors and elders gave him full attention, determined to make him the best that he can. When his fame began to rise, Andrela was still in his fundamental studies.

Clark laid a strong foundation for Red Sand Sword Gate’s growing influence and power. He mastered the strongest Secret Martial Art of the Red Sand Sword Gate, the Red Silk Secret Sword Technique* and brought it beyond the limit to a new heights. With that, he surpassed his elders and became the strongest person in the whole of Red Sand Sword Gate!

He had led the disciples of Red Sand Sword Gate into conquest battles, no matter head-on attacks or ambushes, he was able to come out victorious. Clark’s fame had reached its peak in history by that point.

Regretfully, Clark, at his peak, hadn’t been able to go further, he can no longer see a better future if he stayed in the Red Sand Sword Gate.

The repetition of leading conquest and gaining fame was wearing Clark off. Finally, that weariness exploded. One day, five year ago, he defected.

Under the persuasion of the Behemoth Gate, he killed his master and his beloved senior sister. Anyone who tried to stop him, whom he loved, he killed them all.

That’s the motto of the Behemoth Gate - Unfeeling, Uncaring.

The first condition was to defect. The second, to kill someone they loved.

These are the conditions to joining the Behemoth Gate, there was no turning back.

Red Sand Sword Gate changed in a single night. Everyone who went after him were either killed or badly hurt. The whole sect fell off its throne and was eventually succeeded by the Celestial Circle Gate.

"No one was able to kill him." Recalling his own memory of chasing after Clark, an Elder’s face switched between helpless, sorrow, pain, and fear.

"That’s right." The Master also sighed, "He had already surpassed me, he only defected because he wanted to pursue a path to power. I have no idea how strong he has become."

"We can ask Celestial Circle Gate for Andrela’s help." An Elder advised.

"It’s too late, he won’t be able to make it in time. Moreover, Andrela is strong, but still not Clark’s opponent." The Master shook his head. "Even I wouldn’t be able to guarantee victory, let alone him. I know Clark, he’s the type of prodigy who would look for your weak spots, even the Secret Martial Art of Celestial Circle Gate has been cracked by him. Not to mention our own Secret Martial Art, he knew it like the back of his hands, he won’t have any problem dealing with it."

He paused. "After his disappearance, I thought he died. I didn’t expect… Never mind, mobilize every single captain, we’ll defend the main branch.

For a moment, the air in the training hall was unbelievably dense.

The next day.

Garen and his team split up to look for information. The Eighth Hoop was in charge of the Golden Hoop in this city, who is the pale man who invited Garen into the Golden Hoop then. After meeting with Garen, he agreed, with alacrity, to supply manpower to help looking for Rosetta’s whereabout.

All of a sudden, the gangsters on the streets, the hidden goons in various companies, even some bosses and workers in shops were all assembled by the Eighth Hoop.

At the same time, at the outskirts of Lake Shore West City.

Two black cloaks stood, hidden within the poplar woods. They watched the two police dashed into an area belonging to Red Sand Sword Gate. The ray of dawn spilled onto their cloaks, revealing its unique scale-like shine. The white arc symbol at their backs were also illuminated.

"As expected, they went to the branch of Red Sand Sword. This city is the old nest of Red Sand Sword Gate, they must be seeking protection from them." Rosetta peered at the buildings standing beside the lake from afar, and glanced at her companion with curiosity. "What do you plan to do now?"

The other black cloak pulled his hood off, revealing his short white hair, smooth face, and a pair of rare plum-colored eyes.

"Red Sand Sword Gate? That brings back memories." He said softly. "They look like they were delivering the thing to Red Sand Sword for its protection. Ah well, it’s been awhile I haven’t gone back to check them out. After so many years, I wonder if the Master is still as indecisive as before."

"You wanna go back?" Rosetta asked, bewildered. "There were so many masters in there, yet you still want to trespass?"

"I just wanna see if they’ve grown after all these years." Clark said expressionlessly.

He smiled and slowly shifted toward the entrance of the branch, not bothered to hide himself.

Rosetta hesitated, and followed.

"They were looking for something?" Garen frowned. He was seated opposite of the Eighth Hoop in a tea room, sipping black tea with music flowing through the record player on the table.

"Yes. They were not planning to hide their paths. Just an hour ago, the Red Sand Sword branch at the outskirts caught on fire, no one was spared. The dozen of martial artists and disciples were all killed." The Eighth Hoop sighed, "This former strongest prodigy, he’s not the strongest for nothing*."

"What were they looking for?"

"I hear it’s a scroll leaked from the Behemoth Gate about a Secret Martial Art. Behemoth Gate investigated with a lot of their members and found out there were a lot of copies everywhere. Right now, they were sending people to recover all those scrolls." The Eighth Hoop giggled and sipped his black tea.

"Behemoth Gate." Garen was deep in thought. "Can you locate them?"

"It’s difficult. However," The Eighth Hoop laughed, "I checked Clark’s details. He will definitely infiltrate Red Sand Sword’s main branch by tonight. You can go there."

Garen gave it a thought.

"Thanks."

He stood up and exited the tea room.

"No problem."

The Eighth Hoop smiled, looking at Garen’s back.

Red Sand Sword’s strongest prodigy in history, Grandmaster of Combat Clark, has now joined the Behemoth Gate for five years. So much stronger, to what end?

Garen, on the other hand, is a rising star, they called him Number One Youth Grandmaster of Combat of the South.

"Heh heh, this should be fun." The Eighth Hoop took the teapot and poured himself another cup of tea.

Garen left the tea room. Corinne, Simon, Cynthia, and Jack were all waiting on the streets.

"Are the core members ready?"

"I left Karina in the hotel." Corinne nodded.

"Okay on my side, everything’s ready." Simon nodded excitedly. "My disciple is proficient in arrangements like this!"

"Both of you will stay." Garen said calmly.

"What! Why?" Corinne exclaimed.

"There is no ‘why’." Garen turned toward the car.

"Calm down Corinne, he’s only looking out for us, it’s too dangerous." Simon started to console Corinne.

Cynthia and Jack followed Garen into the car, Cynthia even made a face at Corinne.

"Why can they follow?" Corinne whined.

"Because you’re weak." Cynthia started to hum.

"Let’s go." Garen ordered calmly.

"Yessir."

The chauffeur immediately started the engine and started driving.

Translator's Thoughts

J_Squared J_Squared

1. 红纱秘剑 was given a different character, silk, with the same sound as sand. Possibly a wordplay.

2. In the original text, the author used a saying to signify that Clark would do anything to succeed.