Volume One: A Youth Enters the World Chapter 82: An Attack at Sea

On the boundless sea, a spirit vessel was steadily sailing toward the setting sun. Fang Tian stood at the prow, letting the sea breeze brush against his face as he gazed quietly at the shimmering surface of the water. His heart was calm. This was his first time leaving the island where he had grown up, journeying toward another land, and he was full of thoughts and emotions.

He bore no resentment toward the Lin family for revealing his whereabouts. Their relationship had always been one of cooperation; for the sake of preserving their family, their choice was understandable. Fang Tian had no desire to probe into the details—people are, after all, self-interested by nature. His connection with them was destined to be slight. Fortunately, the outcome had not been greatly affected; his path was merely a little longer than before.

He held no deep grudge against the Third Prince and his companions, either. After all, he had killed the elder’s disciple himself; though he did not regret it, conflict was inevitable. That was why he had spared them at the time—one should show mercy where possible. Fang Tian had given them a chance.

At that moment, the steward in charge of ship affairs walked over quietly and asked, “Sir, would you like something to eat?”

“No, thank you. How much longer until we reach Greenwood Island?” Fang Tian inquired.

“Sir, unless we encounter a storm, it should be another five days,” the steward replied respectfully.

“Is there any danger at sea?” Fang Tian asked again.

“Normally, none, sir. But if we run into sea bandits, then it’s hard to say. Still, with you here, there shouldn’t be a problem.” The steward was well aware of Fang Tian’s abilities—if the Grand Elder himself had suffered at the hands of this youth, and even the Third Prince deferred to him, his strength was unfathomable.

“Sea bandits? The kind who make their living by plundering spirit vessels?” Fang Tian was surprised; he hadn’t expected such thievery at sea.

“Yes, sir.”

“That’s all. You can go.” Fang Tian waved his hand, signaling that the steward need not linger. Understanding, the steward withdrew quietly.

As dusk deepened, Fang Tian left the prow and returned to his cabin. There, he found a table already set with steaming dishes.

“That steward does know how to do things well.” Fang Tian poured himself a cup of wine, picked up his chopsticks, and began to eat. After he was satisfied, he lay down on the bed and closed his eyes to rest.

Two days later, the spirit vessel had traveled nearly half the distance. During this time, Fang Tian occupied himself with little else; in his idle moments, he would sit at the prow, gazing at the sea, and for reasons he could not explain, found himself growing fond of it.

Late at night, as Fang Tian was resting in his cabin, he suddenly felt the ship lurch and tilt. He rose and stepped outside, discovering that the waves had grown fierce and rain was pouring from the sky. The crew scrambled to furl the sails. Fang Tian joined in, helping to move supplies alongside the others.

Seeing Fang Tian working with them, the crew became even more efficient. Lightning flashed, thunder rumbled, and the wind howled; everyone was soon drenched to the skin.

An hour passed. Gradually, the waves subsided, the thunder faded, the rain ceased, and everything returned to normal.

Fang Tian shook the water from his clothes, used his spiritual power to dry himself, and looked over the spirit vessel, now in disarray from the storm. “Is everyone all right?” he asked.

“All safe, sir!” the crew answered in unison.

Fang Tian nodded, about to return to his cabin, when his eyes caught a dark shape not far off, flickering with firelight and echoing with wild shouts.

He called the steward over. “Is that the sea bandits you spoke of?”

“Yes, sir. I can’t believe I spoke of them and here they are—it’s my fault,” the steward said, guilt-ridden.

“No matter. I’m quite curious to see what these bandits intend. Make ready—they’re coming,” Fang Tian said calmly.

“Yes, sir! Everyone, to arms! The bandits are upon us!” the steward shouted to the crew.

“What? Bandits?”

“Unbelievable, as soon as we weather the storm, we run into bandits—just our luck.”

“What is there to fear? With the young master here, do you think we can’t handle a few bandits?”

“That’s true. Grab your weapons, let’s teach them we’re not to be trifled with!”

“That’s right!”

Once they steadied themselves, the crew snatched up their weapons and prepared to defend the ship.

Soon, the other spirit vessel drew near. It was battered and worn, its crew bare-chested and covered with bizarre tattoos, each gripping a long blade. Their eyes shone with greed as they looked at Fang Tian’s group, whistling and leering as if eyeing helpless lambs.

With a crash, the two ships drew alongside. Fang Tian watched the pirates with perfect composure, while the steward and crew paced nervously, weapons in hand, trembling despite themselves—they were still afraid.

“Brothers, this is a fat catch! Quick, kill them all—I can’t wait!” one pirate shouted.

“What’s the hurry? The goods aren’t going anywhere. That boy is delicate—let me have some fun with him first.”

“You’ve got odd tastes, but I like it.”

“Get them, brothers!”

“Charge!”

The pirates laid planks between the two vessels, forming a bridge. With vicious grins, they surged forward, shouting as they came.

Fang Tian drew his sword and swung it once; those advancing pirates were instantly frozen into ice statues and toppled into the sea, the plank bridge splintered in the same stroke.

Seeing the situation turn dire, the remaining pirates hurriedly retreated to their own ship, realizing that Fang Tian was no easy target.

After a moment, the pirates parted to make way for a man who strode forward. He was burly, ugly, and shirtless, his body crisscrossed with scars and a thick beard covering his face—a true giant of a man.

Fang Tian quickly gauged his cultivation: the eighth level of Spirit Gathering. No wonder he dared to target this spirit vessel with such impunity.

The man addressed Fang Tian. “Boy, you’re from Ice Spirit Island, aren’t you?”

“And if I am?” Fang Tian replied coolly.

“I’ve raided so many ships, but this is my first from Ice Spirit Island. Heaven must be smiling on me,” the brute laughed, clearly not taking Fang Tian seriously.

“If you rob us, do you not fear pursuit from the Zhao Dynasty?” Fang Tian asked.

“Pursuit? They’d have to find me first. Out here, I make the rules.”

“And what if you run into someone stronger than you?”

“That’s impossible. I have a treasure that can detect cultivators at a distance, and even their level.”

“Oh? You reveal such a treasure so easily—aren’t you afraid I’ll kill you for it?” Fang Tian smiled. Such an item would be highly useful to him.

At this, the pirates burst out laughing, finding Fang Tian’s words wildly amusing—he was in no position to make threats.

After a pause, the brute realized Fang Tian was trying to draw him out. Still, he thought little of it; the boy was weak, and he would be dead soon enough.

“Boy, are you out of your mind? With just your fifth level of Spirit Gathering, you think you can kill me? That’s a first.”

“Your treasure is tempting indeed. I do want to kill you for it. Believe what you will,” Fang Tian shrugged.

“You must be tired of living.” The brute’s tone turned murderous.

“Third Boss, just kill him already! He’s too arrogant!” the other pirates shouted in unison.

“Come on, then. I’ll be right here.” Fang Tian glanced at them with disdain.

“So you truly don’t fear me.” The brute roared and leapt from the deck, swinging his long blade down at Fang Tian, intent on ending the fight with a single blow.

Fang Tian raised his sword and murmured, “Third Form: Frost Point.”

The sword met the blade with a surge of energy, scattering crates and baskets in all directions.

With a deft twist, Fang Tian diverted the blade. In the next instant, he unleashed the Second Form: Flying Frost. A flash of cold light, and a thin line of blood blossomed across the brute’s neck.

The big man stared in disbelief at his wound and fell heavily to the deck. Soon, frost crept over his corpse, freezing it solid.

Fang Tian glanced at the body, retrieved a jade token—a storage artifact—from it, and, sensing the treasure within, stowed it away. He signaled for the steward to throw the corpse into the sea.

The steward understood at once and summoned a few men to help carry the body overboard.

Fang Tian felt no guilt for killing the brute; he despised banditry, and from what he’d learned, few survived once pirates targeted a spirit vessel. He had merely acted as an agent of justice.

Mercy must be reserved for the worthy.

The remaining pirates, seeing their leader slain, panicked. Some, fearing Fang Tian’s wrath, leapt straight into the sea, while others retreated in terror, their eyes wide with fear. They had come as fishermen, but now found themselves the hunted.

Fang Tian leapt onto the pirate vessel and looked at the cowering men. He shook his head with a sigh.

“I won’t kill you, but you’re not staying on this ship. Into the sea—all of you.”

At his words, the remaining pirates jumped into the water without hesitation; better to risk the sea than certain death at his hands.

Watching them scatter, Fang Tian harbored no intention of adding to his tally of killings. Call it mercy, but he was content to let fate decide their ends—if they survived, it was their luck.

With the pirates gone, the vessel was empty. Fang Tian headed into the hold, curious to see what spoils the bandits had amassed.