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Chapter 15 - Be the Mantis Stalking the Cicada

(Note: The idiom references the saying "The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind," implying someone is about to be ambushed while thinking they're the predator.)

A thunderous roar cracked through the forest like lightning. A burly man lifted his spiked club overhead and brought it down in a crushing blow. The black-robed figure's eyes flashed with chilling brilliance as the flexible sword in his hand abruptly stiffened. He stabbed forward—slow, deliberate, and steady.

Clang!

The club and sword collided with an explosive boom. The shockwave swept out in all directions. Within five meters, every branch and leaf was blasted into powder. The spiked club rebounded into the air, but the black-robed man's sword snapped in two. He darted in close and struck the burly man in a flash. When he landed, his body staggered. Liu Weian saw blood spill from his mouth.

The burly man clutched his neck, blood seeping through his fingers. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. His eyes quickly dimmed into lifelessness.

Heavy footsteps echoed from deep within the woods—more people were coming. Even with limited experience, Liu Weian could tell it was a large group. Judging by the sound, it had to be over a hundred men. The black-robed man's face changed. He let out a strange bird-like cry. The remaining three of his comrades feinted with a sword slash and broke away. Their enemies gave chase without hesitation.

Moments later, more men burst out of the woods. Judging by their attire, they were with the spiked-club wielder. They didn't even glance at the corpses littering the forest floor. Instead, they rushed after the dying sounds of combat. Liu Weian counted—at least 150 strong.

As they disappeared into the distance, yet another group emerged. Around thirty men, moving silently, shadows tailing the chaos ahead.

Barely a minute passed before another team arrived—this one fifty strong, clad in uniform gear, moving with crisp efficiency. Their coordination, silence, and use of hand signals gave off the distinct air of military veterans.

High in a tree, Liu Weian held his breath. He didn't dare make a sound. These newcomers didn't speak a word, but their aura was razor-sharp. Even from ten meters up, their presence made his blood run cold. Not a single weakling among them.

In just half an hour, seven or eight different factions had entered the forest. Some small squads, others hundreds strong, turning this quiet wilderness into a bustling battlefield. He even spotted someone he recognized—Sun Shouwu from the Sun family. But Liu Weian didn't dare greet him.

From the snippets of dialogue he overheard, he pieced together the truth. The black-robed man had stolen something important—something coveted by all these forces. He couldn't tell what the item was or whom it originally belonged to. But given how Sun Shouwu had been unusually active in recent days, and how many unfamiliar faces had appeared in Stone Fort, it was clear the treasure had been circulating for a while—constantly chased, constantly changing hands.

Liu Weian was lost in thought when he suddenly froze. Someone appeared silently in the forest, and he hadn't noticed how the man arrived. Mid-twenties, strikingly handsome, carrying a long spear, his presence radiated strength—more than anyone Liu Weian had ever seen. The man paused by the black-robed man's corpse, glanced at the blood-stained ground, and murmured:

"Looks like that battle three days ago left you with serious internal injuries. Even a brute like him could wound you. Hang in there, old friend…"

He abruptly stopped, lifting his head sharply. His gaze shot like an arrow toward Liu Weian's hiding place.

Liu Weian's heart dropped. He squinted his eyes to slits, redirecting his focus, holding his breath. A heavy aura of death washed over him, freezing him in place. Even the bird above him cried out in terror and plummeted from its perch.

"Just a bird, huh? Damn, haven't slept in fifteen days—my mind's playing tricks," the man chuckled and looked away. Then he vanished—just like that. Liu Weian's heart pounded. He hadn't seen how the man came or went. Just... gone.

Half an hour passed. No one else showed up. Liu Weian knew it was time to leave. Any longer, and the corpse collectors would arrive, and then there'd be no escaping. These people weren't amateurs—just witnessing this scene had been a privilege. In events like this, greed led to death.

He began climbing down—

But paused.

Another figure entered the forest, not from the depths, but from outside. And Liu Weian's eyes narrowed—it was the same black-robed man who had killed the brute.

Gone was his imposing aura. He walked unsteadily, wounded, barely holding himself upright. He'd swapped his broken sword for a new one.

When he reached the base of Liu Weian's tree, he finally collapsed, leaning back against the trunk, gasping for air. His eyes were glazed, muttering, "Where... is the contact Master sent? If I don't make it… the item… mustn't…"

His words trailed off. But from the way he clutched his chest, Liu Weian realized—he wasn't protecting a wound. He was guarding something.

It must be something valuable.

The thought flashed through his mind like lightning. So many people had come after it—how valuable must it be? What if... what if I took it?

That thought spread like wildfire. Under normal circumstances, Liu Weian would never dare. But now? The black-robed man was on death's door.

"A horse doesn't grow fat without night grazing. A man doesn't grow rich without windfalls."

The decision was instant.

He summoned his wooden bow. As his eyes snapped open, the arrow flew like a shooting star.

The black-robed man jerked awake. Clarity returned to his eyes. The arrow was already above him. But he was fast—unnaturally fast. His sword flicked up like a serpent, deflecting the arrow in a gleam of light.

Clang!

The arrow broke in two.

He leapt to his feet—but halfway up, he stiffened. Another arrow struck dead center in his crown.

"Double shot…" he muttered bitterly as life left his eyes.

Liu Weian scrambled down, rummaged through the corpse. No ring. Just a rock-like object and a pouch of gold. So poor? Not even a spatial ring?

Still, he pocketed the stone—this had to be the prize—and took off, choosing a path no one had traveled.

Minutes after he left, five more black-robed figures arrived. One checked the body, found it empty, and hissed, "The body's still warm—go! Track him down!"

Then the spear-wielding youth returned. He saw the arrow in the corpse's head, glanced toward Liu Weian's tree, sighed in regret, and vanished again.

More groups came. The hunt reignited, and the forest buzzed with pursuit.

By sheer luck, Liu Weian didn't take the same path back. He got lost, avoided all checkpoints, and stumbled into Stone Fort just past 2 a.m. The streets were deserted. Only the top-tier merchant guilds still had their shops open.

He headed straight for the courier service, packed the strength seeds and the mysterious stone together.

Too risky to keep it in this world. Better to send it back to the human realm.

One good thing about the couriers—they never checked what you shipped. Flesh, weapons, poison—it didn't matter. You paid, they sent. That's why even something as valuable as a strength seed could be mailed without worry. Their reputation had been built over centuries.

He'd gathered over 500 strength seeds these past days—most from rotwalkers, only a few from revenants. Add the mysterious stone, and the fee came out to 12 gold coins.

Painful.

Exhausted from the night, Liu Weian took his receipt, found a quiet spot, and logged out. He removed the helmet. Zhao Nan'nan and her daughter slept peacefully nearby. The girl, Zhao Xin, usually tossed and turned in her sleep. Tonight, she lay still.

Liu Weian closed his eyes, but the image of the black-robed man filled his thoughts. His body ached, but his mind raced.

What was that stone? Something to eat? To forge? Some legendary material?

Couldn't be something common like Tianhuang stone—that wouldn't warrant this much pursuit.

As his thoughts drifted, sleep finally claimed him.

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