Chapter 449 - 446: Looting the Medicinal Field

Chapter 449: Chapter 446: Looting the Medicinal Field

’This should be the place!’

Fang Han was quite certain this was the warehouse where the medicinal field stored its herbs.

He didn’t rush forward. Instead, he first used the "Thousand Mile Soul Lock" to carefully sense the auras around the warehouse.

He was checking for any hidden lookouts.

’No hidden lookouts, just these two guards!’

After a careful scan, Fang Han confirmed that only these two were guarding the warehouse.

However, they were not weak. Both were Seventh Grade Martial Artists, considered elite disciples even within the Netherworld Pavilion.

To take them out silently, he would need to be serious.

SWISH!

Fang Han silently closed in on the Netherworld Pavilion disciple on the left. He raised his right hand, treating his palm like a sword, and chopped at the side of the disciple’s neck.

CRACK—

A faint crack of bone sounded as the head of the disciple on the left lolled to one side, his breathing ceasing instantly.

"There’s—"

The disciple on the right had already sensed that something was wrong and was about to cry out in alarm.

But before he could make a sound, Fang Han had already taken a step and was upon him.

His five fingers formed a claw and clamped down on the man’s throat.

CRACK—

Even without having cultivated any Claw Skills, with Fang Han’s current strength, why would he need to use a Martial Technique to kill a mere Seventh Grade Martial Artist?

With a slight squeeze of his fingers, accompanied by a crisp snap, the disciple’s throat was crushed, and his body slumped limply.

The disciple didn’t even have time to open his eyes before he stopped breathing.

The two bodies slid softly to the ground. Fang Han reached out to catch them, laying them gently down without a sound.

He turned, grabbed the iron lock, and with a slight pulse of Inner Qi, gave it a gentle twist.

CLICK.

The lock snapped open.

Fang Han pushed the door open and entered.

The light inside the warehouse was dim, but with the Eye Power of a Third Grade Martial Artist, he could still see everything clearly.

Against the walls, rows of wooden shelves were neatly arranged, filled with Jade Boxes and Wooden Boxes of all sizes.

He walked over and casually opened a Jade Box.

Inside was an extremely high-quality Lingzhi, its color warm and lustrous, its medicinal fragrance assailing his nostrils.

He opened a few Wooden Boxes, finding aged ginseng, Polygonum multiflorum, Yellow Essence, and other precious herbs inside.

The corner of Fang Han’s mouth curled into a faint smile.

Without delay, he focused his mind and called up the system panel.

[Host: Fang Han]

[Root Bone Talent Amplification: 256x (Ninth Level Amplification requires 10,000,000 gold)]

[Swordsmanship Talent Amplification: 128x (Level 8 Amplification requires 1,000,000 gold)]

[Stepping Talent Amplification: 128x (Level 8 Amplification requires 1,000,000 gold)]

[Secret Technique Talent Amplification: 128x (Level 8 Amplification requires 1,000,000 gold)]

[Body Hardening Talent Amplification: 128x (Level 8 Amplification requires 1,000,000 gold)]

[Wealth: 250,000 gold]

He placed his hand on a Jade Box.

"Deposit."

The Jade Box and the herbs within it vanished instantly.

He didn’t stop, walking a circuit around the warehouse, his hands constantly touching the Jade Boxes and Wooden Boxes.

With every touch, another batch of herbs disappeared.

In just a few breaths, the hundreds of Jade Boxes and Wooden Boxes in the warehouse had all vanished.

The numbers on the panel changed accordingly.

[Wealth: 250,000 gold → 450,000 gold]

Fang Han glanced at the numbers, quite satisfied.

Although this medicinal field was one of the Netherworld Pavilion’s smaller operations, it still held a considerable amount of precious herbs.

It had increased his wealth by a full 200,000 gold.

Two hundred thousand gold, equivalent to twenty million taels of silver, was a massive sum.

He turned and walked out of the warehouse, glancing at the two corpses and then at the largest wooden house in the distance.

The aura of the Third Grade Elder was still stable; he was completely unaware of what had just happened here.

WHOOSH!

Averting his gaze, Fang Han’s figure flickered, and he darted out of the valley, retracing his steps.

He arrived without a sound and left without a trace.

In just a moment, he had flown out of the valley and disappeared into the night.

With his strength, he could have easily wiped out all of the Netherworld Pavilion’s personnel here, including the Third Grade Elder, but he chose not to.

Doing so would have undoubtedly enraged the Netherworld Pavilion, causing them to treat the matter with extreme importance right from the start.

That would not be conducive to his subsequent plans.

Half an hour later, two groggy, patrolling disciples made their way to the warehouse.

"I’m dead tired..."

The two muttered as they walked to the warehouse door.

Then, their steps came to an abrupt halt. They thought their eyes were playing tricks on them.

The two disciples who were supposed to be guarding the warehouse were collapsed by the door, their condition unknown.

The iron lock on the door was gone.

The door was ajar, leaving a narrow gap.

Their hearts tightened. Without bothering to check if the two guards were dead or alive, they hurriedly pushed the door open.

Moonlight streamed in from outside, illuminating the empty wooden shelves.

Not a single one of the neatly arranged Jade Boxes and Wooden Boxes remained.

"This..."

The two of them opened their mouths, but they were so shocked they couldn’t speak.

A moment later, they finally came to their senses.

"Help—! The warehouse has been robbed—!"

Their shrill cries tore through the silent night sky.

The valley instantly erupted into a commotion.

Lights in the wooden houses flickered on one by one. The sleeping disciples rushed out, some still pulling up their pants, others clutching weapons, all with looks of shock and confusion.

The Third Grade Elder also darted out of his wooden house and landed in front of the warehouse. His gaze swept over the empty shelves, then fell upon the two corpses, his face turning ashen.

"Did you see the thief?"

His voice was hoarse, filled with suppressed fury.

"N-no... we didn’t see anyone..."

The two patrolling disciples who had first discovered the robbery replied haltingly, their faces pale.

"When we got here on our patrol, it was already like this..."

The Third Grade Elder gritted his teeth, his eyes scanning the surroundings.

The night was dark; there was no trace of the intruder.

He took a deep breath, suppressed his roiling emotions, and said in a low voice:

"Send a message to the Sect. Say the medicinal field was attacked and all the herbs are gone. Request that the Sect send someone to investigate."

"Yes, sir."

A Steward quickly acknowledged the order and hurried away.

The news soon reached the Netherworld Pavilion.

In the main hall, Li Wushang stood before a window with his hands behind his back, frowning slightly as he held the urgent report that had just arrived from the medicinal field.

"Herbs stolen, guards killed, thief’s whereabouts unknown..."

He muttered the contents of the letter, his expression grim, but he wasn’t overly enraged.

A small medicinal field’s warehouse was robbed, some herbs were lost, and two ordinary disciples died.

Compared to the losses suffered in the conflict with the Qingxuan Sect, this was not a significant loss.

Under the current circumstances, it wasn’t worth investing too much effort. Sending a Third Grade Elder skilled in Tracking to handle it would suffice.

"Have Elder Feng Yuan make a trip. Find out who did this."

He tossed the letter casually onto the desk, his voice flat.

"Yes, sir."

Liu Jin bowed, acknowledged the order, and left the hall.

「The next morning, at the crack of dawn.」

Feng Yuan left the Netherworld Pavilion with two Stewards, speeding toward the medicinal field.

Meanwhile, Fang Han, having rested for the night and recovered his energy, was already on his way to the next target.

Several hours later, Fang Han appeared hundreds of miles away at one of the Netherworld Pavilion’s mines.

’"Returning Ruins Hidden Essence Skill."’

Hiding in a dense thicket outside the mine, Fang Han pushed the Returning Ruins Hidden Essence Skill to its limit, retracting his aura completely.

He seemed to transform into a piece of deadwood, a stubborn rock, blending seamlessly with the surrounding vegetation and stones.

’"Thousand Mile Soul Lock."’

Activating the "Thousand Mile Soul Lock", the auras within the mine appeared clearly in his senses.

He detected the auras of several dozen Martial Artists throughout the mine.

The strongest among them should be a Third Grade Martial Artist.

The situation matched his intelligence.

’Now, I just have to wait for nightfall.’

Retracting his senses, Fang Han lay quietly in the thicket.

He would wait for the night to grow deeper, for the disciples to let down their guard.

The moon gradually set in the west, and the lights in the mine went out one by one.

The patrolling disciples’ footsteps began to drag, and their yawns could be heard from a great distance.

「Midnight.」

The mine fell into a deep silence, broken only by the occasional chirp of insects from the grass, which only accentuated the quiet of the mountains.

WHOOSH!

Fang Han moved.

He slipped out of the thicket without a sound. Executing the Wind God Step at full power, his figure was like a wisp of invisible night wind, drifting silently into the mine.

There was no sound of tearing wind, no rustle of clothes, not even the faint sound of his footsteps touching the ground.

He stuck to the shadows of the wooden houses as he darted deeper into the mine.

Two on-duty disciples leaned against either side of the gatehouse, their heads bobbing as they dozed off, completely oblivious to someone flitting past just a few dozen feet away.

Fang Han was incredibly fast; in just a moment, he had reached the depths of the mine.

He soon found what looked like the warehouse.

It was built of bluestone, several times larger than the one at the medicinal field. The door was made of ironwood—thick and sturdy—and a huge iron lock hung on it.

At the warehouse entrance, four Netherworld Pavilion disciples stood guard, two on each side.

With four disciples on guard, he would need to use some tricks to eliminate them without causing a disturbance.

PFFT—

Fang Han drew his sword and flashed to the side of the two disciples on the left.

With a single slash, a bloody line appeared on their necks. Blood sprayed out as their bodies limply collapsed.

Then, he flashed to the right side. Before the two disciples there could cry out, his longsword swiftly slit their throats.

The four bodies slid softly to the ground. Fang Han reached out to catch them, laying them gently down without a sound.

He turned, grabbed the iron lock, and with a slight pulse of Inner Qi, gave it a gentle twist.

CLICK.

The lock snapped open.

He pushed the door open and entered.

The light inside the warehouse was dim, and the air was filled with the faint smell of ore.

Against the walls were rows of neatly stacked wooden crates—at least several dozen of them.

Fang Han walked over and casually opened a wooden crate.

Inside were neatly stacked ingots of Spirit Iron, dark in color and dense in texture—excellent quality.

He opened a few more crates. Some contained Spirit Iron Ore, others Spirit Copper Ore, and a few held rare ores of impressive quality.

The corner of his mouth curled into a faint smile.

Without delay, he focused his mind and called up the system panel.

[Host: Fang Han]

[Root Bone Talent Amplification: 256x (Ninth Level Amplification requires 10,000,000 gold)]

[Swordsmanship Talent Amplification: 128x (Level 8 Amplification requires 1,000,000 gold)]

[Stepping Talent Amplification: 128x (Level 8 Amplification requires 1,000,000 gold)]

[Secret Technique Talent Amplification: 128x (Level 8 Amplification requires 1,000,000 gold)]

[Body Hardening Talent Amplification: 128x (Level 8 Amplification requires 1,000,000 gold)]

[Wealth: 450,000 gold]

He placed his hand on a wooden crate.