Volume One: The Carefree Journey of Leaves Unrecognized Chapter Twenty-Three: The Blood Bat

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Master Lu was startled but remained calm. After his swift instructions, the chaos quickly subsided. Several figures rushed out of the tavern, drawing their blades to guard the convoy, while others began searching their bodies for fire starters.

Veteran travelers of the martial world always carried essential items. Besides ointments for wounds, fire starters were indispensable.

In the dimness, Yang Ning saw vague shadows moving in and out of the tavern. One hand gripped his icy blade tightly, wondering if this was truly a robbery.

Yet the convoy had twenty or so men, their strength not insignificant. If this was indeed a robbery, the opponents must be formidable.

Soon, a few beams of light flickered inside, as some men had already struck their fire starters. Yang Ning swept his gaze around by their light and saw that many had left the tavern. Most of those remaining had drawn their swords. Master Lu stood in the center, steel blade in hand, his face grave, eyes scanning all around.

The elderly man and the youth who had previously stood near Yang Ning were now beside the wall. The elder in the brown robe gripped a long parcel in his right hand. His left arm lifted slightly, shielding the young man behind him.

Yang Ning could not discern their exact relationship, but sensed the elder’s extraordinary protectiveness toward the youth.

Earlier, the elder had claimed to carry something precious, and Yang Ning wondered if it was indeed the item wrapped in his hands.

“It’s a hidden weapon!” Yang Ning was musing about the parcel’s contents when a deep voice sounded nearby. He looked over to see a man standing by the oil lamp, left hand raised, two fingers pinching something. “This thing snuffed out the lamp. Remarkable skill.”

Both oil lamps hanging on the wall were broken, evidently extinguished by a concealed weapon.

“Put it down—!” Master Lu turned, seeing the man clutching the hidden weapon, his face changed. “How could you be so foolish? Put it down now—be careful, it could be poisoned!”

Yang Ning was secretly shocked. Master Lu’s experience in the martial world was indeed formidable; Yang Ning had not considered that the weapon might be poisoned. Now he learned a valuable lesson. The man holding the hidden weapon clearly lacked experience, or perhaps rarely encountered such situations, thus committed this error.

As Yang Ning pondered, several cries of alarm rang out. The burly man by the oil lamp suddenly collapsed, convulsing on the ground.

It was indeed poisonous!

“Don’t touch him!” Master Lu’s face darkened further. “Everyone, be cautious. The enemy is fierce. Protect the convoy!”

All were now armed. If there had been only suspicion before, witnessing the man convulsing on the ground sent the guards into high alert. They gripped their weapons tightly, eyes scanning the room. The tavern fell deathly silent, only the wind and rain outside continuing their relentless chorus.

The stricken man convulsed for a moment, then lay motionless, uncertain if he was dead or alive.

Another flash of lightning illuminated the room, and suddenly several dark shapes swept in through the window, lunging towards those standing nearby.

The target sensed danger, bellowed, and grabbed a stool, hurling it at the shadows. The stool struck one, but the other two evaded and flew straight at his face.

By the firelight, Yang Ning saw that the two shapes resembled birds. He wondered, in such stormy weather, how could birds fly into a tavern?

The man retreated hastily, but the black shapes moved swiftly. One attached itself to his face, and someone cried out, “It’s... it’s a bat!”

The creature spread its wings, with hollow cheeks and a sharp snout—it was indeed a bat!

“There—be careful, there are more over there!” Another voice shouted in terror. Yang Ning now saw, in that brief instant, dozens of bats had appeared.

“Don’t let them touch you!” Master Lu shouted. A bat rushed at him; he swung his blade, slicing the creature in half. Blood spurted, but Master Lu stepped back in time, avoiding the spray.

The bisected bat fell to the ground, its wings still twitching, a scene of chilling horror.

Others slashed at the bats as well; their skills varied, but several managed to kill the attackers. However, unlike Master Lu, some failed to retreat quickly and were splattered with bat blood.

Outside, there were also sounds of horses neighing and people shouting, adding to the chaos.

Seeing bats flying wildly inside, Yang Ning quickly slipped beneath a table.

Peering out from underneath, he saw a man clawing at his face, crying out in agony before collapsing, rolling across the floor until he struck the wall. His limbs convulsed a few times and then he lay still.

The sight left Yang Ning shaken. Suddenly, the brown-robed elder shouted, “These are East Sea Blood Bats. Do not let their blood touch you!”

Master Lu heard this and was even more alarmed. Well-traveled as he was, he had heard of the East Sea Blood Bat—a creature whose blood was lethally poisonous, causing immediate decay upon contact.

Though he had heard of them, he had never seen one, nor imagined they would appear in a remote tavern. The bats' venom was even more terrible than rumored.

Yang Ning was also puzzled. The blood bats hailed from the East Sea and should thrive near the coast, yet they were here in the inland. There must be some hidden scheme behind this.

Several more men fell, convulsing and dying after contact with the blood. Witnessing such malevolence, Yang Ning grew tense, gripping his icy blade, ready to strike any bat that approached.

Now that everyone knew the bats were poisonous, they became more cautious. The blood bats relied on their venom to harm, but as long as one avoided contact, the threat was limited. Some quickly removed their rain cloaks or bamboo hats, using them to swat and trap bats, thus preventing blood from touching their bodies.

Though four or five men died, most of the blood bats were eliminated.

Yang Ning glanced at the brown-robed elder. Throughout the chaos, the elder shielded the youth, easily fending off bats with his parcel. None could approach, confirming to Yang Ning that he was a master.

Suddenly, the elder looked up at the roof. Yang Ning wondered why, when the elder growled, lifted his arm, and spun the parcel above his head like a windmill. The sound of clattering filled the air as iron caltrops rained down from above, all deflected by the spinning parcel.

Yang Ning’s heart sank; he guessed there were people on the roof.

Indeed, the elder leapt skyward. Yang Ning peeked from beneath the table and saw in the dimness that several holes had appeared in the roof, through which figures descended. The brown-robed elder rose like a nimble ape, swinging his parcel to strike one of the intruders, sending him flying and crashing to the ground.

Only now did the convoy realize attackers were coming from above. More and more descended, all clad in black, faces masked, with only their eyes visible. Their heads were wrapped, not a strand of hair exposed.

Their hands were gloved in black beast hide, and from head to toe, they were shrouded in darkness, save for their eyes—no skin could be seen.

Curiously, each carried a parcel on their back, seemingly fused with their clothing, with black leather belts at their waists, difficult to discern unless closely examined.

Their weapons were slender curved blades, narrower and shorter than ordinary sabers, but gleaming coldly, forged with exquisite skill—deadly sharp.

In the blink of an eye, more than a dozen black-clad figures had entered, now engaged in combat with the convoy.

Yang Ning’s pupils contracted. He realized these men were indeed here to rob the convoy, their numbers considerable and their plan meticulous: extinguishing the lights, sending in the blood bats as a vanguard, then attacking from above. Every step was carefully orchestrated.

He had intended to see if anyone was hidden among the convoy’s carts, but now thought that unlikely. This convoy was almost certainly not the one he sought.

So many skilled men had been dispatched, none of them ordinary. It was impossible they would risk themselves for a handful of trafficked girls.

Moreover, their use of blood bats—their methods sinister and stealthy—marked them as villains, not champions of justice.

The tavern was now filled with the sounds of battle. Though the convoy was caught off guard, they were professionals, their skills not lacking. Both sides were evenly matched; most striking was the brown-robed elder, who fought three opponents at once and held the upper hand. In moments, his parcel struck a black-clad man’s chest, sending him flying.

Yang Ning realized it was unwise to linger; he might be dragged into trouble. He looked for a chance to escape the tavern, spotting the counter not far away. With no one behind it, hiding there seemed safest. He seized an opening, crawled out from beneath the table, and dashed, hunched over, toward the counter. After just two steps, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a black shadow lunging at him, a cold gleam flashing as a slender curved blade slashed down.

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PS: I had few expectations, but the monthly ticket count has reached the top twenty. Everyone knows that being in the top twenty earns a bonus. In these last days, for the sake of supporting my family, I hope to strive for it. If you have monthly tickets, please offer your support. I thank you all from the bottom of my heart!

After seven years of writing, I hope my brothers will never abandon me!