Chương 232: A Faction's Shadow

The clearing was silent, save for the crackling of the campfire. The five powerful Core Formation experts, who had arrived with such arrogant killing intent, now lay in a heap on the forest floor, unconscious and completely at the mercy of the group they had so foolishly underestimated. The hunter had not only become the hunted; he had been captured, and now it was time for questioning.

Xylia, her expression cold and business-like, dragged the leader of the group—the mid-Core Formation expert with the greatsword—and dropped him unceremoniously by the fire. A splash of cold water from Fat Pig's water-skin brought him sputtering back to consciousness. He blinked, his eyes struggling to focus, and then the memory of what had happened, of that impossibly vast and suffocating pressure, came flooding back. Pure, unadulterated terror filled his eyes.

"Who are you?" Jian Xuan asked, his voice calm and dispassionate. He stood over the man, his presence a silent, overwhelming threat.

"Who do you work for?" The man's terror was swiftly replaced by a surge of defiant fury. He was a master, a leader, but more than that, he was a true believer. To be so utterly humiliated was a blow to his pride that was worse than any physical injury. He glared up at Jian Xuan, a sneer twisting his lips.

"You think you've won?" he spat.

"You have no idea who you're messing with. Kill me. It doesn't matter. The great tide is coming, and you will all be swept away!" Xylia, who had no patience for fanatics, simply sighed.

"He's useless." Before the man could utter another defiant word, Jian Xuan's hand moved in a blur. There was a soft, final snap. The man's eyes went wide for a single, shocked instant, and then the light faded from them completely. It was a swift, efficient, and utterly merciless execution. The message was clear: they were not here to play games.

The remaining four—three men and the one woman—were just beginning to stir, and their first sight of full consciousness was their leader's lifeless body being casually pushed aside. A wave of absolute, bone-chilling terror washed over them. They were not fanatics. They were hired mercenaries. They had been contracted for a high-risk, high-pay job, but they had never signed up for a suicide mission. Every person here was powerful, powerful enough to lead a sect of their own had they wanted to.

They were however, vagabond cultivators, those that belong to no forces but being mercenaries they went to the highest bidder. They had expected that in a worst-case scenario with their power, they'd lose a fight and escape. There weren't many forces who could hold back their group on this continent, or so they thought. Execution was not supposed to be on the table. The casual, brutal finality of their leader's death told them that their new captors did not intend to play any kind of games.

Give them information or die, maybe after giving information they would be killed anyways but at least there was a chance. Xylia loomed over the woman, her gauntleted hand reaching down. The woman flinched, a high-pitched whimper escaping her lips. She immediately threw her hands up in a gesture of surrender.

"Please!" she cried, her voice cracking with terror.

"Please, don't kill me! We're just hired mercenaries! We'll talk! We'll tell you whatever you want to know!" The three men beside her were nodding furiously, their faces ashen.

"She's right," one of them blurted out, his voice a hoarse whisper.

"Our leader, he was the true believer. We were just following his orders. We have no life-loyalty to this cause." Their employer didn't think that such forces would ever lose so there were no restrictions placed on them. On top of that, if there were such restrictions, people of their power would never accept to work for them in the first place. People of their strength could go about just anywhere and work for anyone.

Li Yu, who had been watching the entire, brutal process with a calm, detached gaze, finally spoke.

"Then talk."

"The man we worked for, our leader… he was a part of a group known as the Beast Revolution Faction," the woman said, the words tumbling from her in a desperate rush.

"He recruited us a few months ago for a long-term contract. The pay was incredible."

"The Beast Revolution Faction?" Fat Pig repeated, his expression one of utter disbelief.

"What in the world is that? Some kind of beast-worshipping cult?"

"Something like that," the mercenary said, eager to cooperate.

"He would go on and on about it. Said that the age of man is coming to an end, that some great Beast God will return, and that beasts will rise up to become the true rulers of the world." Before Fat Pig could respond with a scathing insult, Jian Xuan held up a hand, his expression suddenly grim and deeply serious. He looked at Li Yu, a new, troubling light in his eyes.

"I have heard of this group before," he said, his voice low and heavy.

"On my own continent." This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. This revelation sent a fresh wave of shock through the group.

"They are a troublesome and dangerous organization," Jian Xuan continued, his gaze distant as he recalled the stories from his homeland.

"They are a secret society, a faction that has both human and beast members, all united under this single, fanatical belief. They operate in the shadows, infiltrating clans and sects, stirring up trouble. Their ultimate goal is always the same: to help the beast side win in any conflict, to weaken human society and pave the way for their supposed 'revolution'." He shook his head.

"They are fanatics and terrorists, and their influence is far wider than most people suspect. To find them operating here, on this continent… this is indeed troublesome." The pieces of the puzzle were starting to fall into place, revealing a picture far larger and more sinister than they had ever imagined. The caravan attacks were not just about profit or local politics; they were part of a multi-continental conspiracy.

"Why here?" Li Yu asked, his gaze fixed on the four terrified mercenaries.

"Why are you attacking caravans in this remote, southern region?"

"We don't know the grand strategy," the man who had spoken before answered quickly, eager to prove his usefulness.

"Our leader was the only one who dealt with the higher-ups in the faction. He was the only true member. We just took the contract. He gave us our targets, and we got paid. But… I do know where the orders came from locally."

"Speak," Li Yu commanded.

"Our direct contact," the man said, swallowing hard, "the one who provides our payment and our target lists, is a representative from the Golden Tide Clan." The name landed with the force of a physical blow. The Golden Tide Clan. The reclusive, eccentric artisans. The other prime suspect in the creation of the conch. The target Fengliu was currently investigating.

"It seems the Golden Tide Clan is working with the faction," the woman added, her voice trembling.

"We were told the attacks were to destabilize the Crimson Forge Sect's supply lines, to weaken their influence in the region. The clan seems to see them as their primary competition." So that was it. The two threads of their investigation, the conch and the caravan attacks, had just been violently twisted together. The Golden Tide Clan, a supposedly respectable, if reclusive, clan of artisans, had allied themselves with a dangerous, fanatical faction of terrorists.

They were using the Beast Revolution Faction as their personal army, a deniable force to wage a shadow war against their commercial rivals, all under the guise of a holy crusade for the beasts. A cold, hard understanding settled over Li Yu. They had their answer. They knew who was behind the attacks, and they knew that the same group was almost certainly behind the creation of the conch. The enemy was no longer a faceless shadow. It had a name, and it had at least one location.

He looked at the four remaining mercenaries, their usefulness now at an end. They had talked, but they were still enemies. They had willingly taken a contract to attack and kill innocent merchants for profit. Who knew how many people had suffered and died because of their actions. He did not need to give an order. Xylia, with a cold, pragmatic finality, stepped forward. A moment later, the forest was quiet once more. Fat Pig, his expression grim, began to collect the storage rings of the five fallen experts.

This time, the haul was much more significant. He swept his spiritual sense through the rings, his eyes widening.

"Wise Host," he said, his voice a low whistle.

"These were not just thugs. They were well-equipped." He found a small, personal flute made of a strange, dark wood in the leader's ring. Its purpose was unknown, but it radiated a faint, unusual energy. More importantly, the rings were filled with a small mountain of high-grade ores, bolts of fine silk, and various other valuable goods—clearly the spoils from their recent, successful raids.

"We don't know who this all belongs to," Fat Pig said with a sigh.

"It would be impossible to return it all."

"Then keep it," Li Yu said simply.

"The Guild can make use of it. Take any cultivation pills or other items you need." The group divided the useful personal items, and Fat Pig absorbed the vast quantity of stolen goods into the Guild's main storage ring. Their work in this forest was done. The next morning, Li Yu made his decision. The Crimson Forge Sect needed to be warned, but he had no desire to involve himself in the formal, political meetings that would surely follow.

"Fat Pig," he said, addressing his retainer.

"You are the face of the Guild here. It is your place to deliver this news to the Crimson Forge Sect. Jian Xuan, you will go with him. Your presence will lend weight to his words and ensure they take this matter with the seriousness it deserves." Both men nodded in understanding. An hour later, Vice-Guild Leader Zhu and his powerful, silent companion, Jian Xuan, were granted an immediate and urgent audience with the leadership of the Crimson Forge Sect.

The Sect Master and the elders listened in a heavy, disbelieving silence as Fat Pig calmly and clearly recounted their findings. He spoke of the Beast Revolution Faction, their fanatical ideology, and most damningly, their direct alliance with the Golden Tide Clan. The air in the grand hall grew thick with a murderous intent. The Sect Master's face was a mask of cold fury.

"The Golden Tide Clan…" he breathed, his voice a low, dangerous growl.

"Those arrogant artisans dare to use such vile methods against us? To ally with a faction of terrorists and fanatics?" The sect leader and elders believed Fat Pig because there was no reason for the Golden Shell Guild to invent such a story; it would only hurt their reputation continent wide to lie about such things. The truth would easily come out if the Golden Tide Clan was not actually attacking them.

From their intel the Golden Shell Company only had business deals with their sect and not the Golden Tide Clan so they weren't profiting from both sides. They knew the information delivered by Fat Pig was credible but of course would investigate further as well. The meeting ended with a sense of grim, foreboding purpose.

The Crimson Forge Sect, a power that had known peace for centuries, began to prepare for war, their security tightening, their forges beginning to churn out weapons not for sale, but for their own disciples. The southern coast, once a hub of prosperous trade, was now on the brink of a new and terrible conflict.