Chapter 115: The Thirteen Rod Warriors

Chaos erupted in the martial world. Within a single day, various gangs that withdrew from the city were ambushed and attacked to varying degrees by the Green Forest Alliance! Numerous bandits at the Creation Realm, led by a small number of experts at the Mysterious Realm, easily destroyed most of the escort gangs. The relentless onslaught was unbearable to witness.

Only a few strong factions managed to hold off the bandits for a while, buying time, while those who wisely abandoned their cargoes managed to escape. Most gangs perished completely!

Meanwhile…
Many players tried to take advantage of the situation, but after resuming life at the Martial Temple, they all realized the severity of the crisis. The tribute gifts meant for the emperor were not something they could afford to touch!

Taking advantage of the gangs’ internal strife, weakened strength, and lack of imperial protection, the Green Forest Alliance struck hard, seizing most of the tribute gifts from the players.

Of course…
There were some exceptions. Some players noticed patterns by analyzing the REP data from different regions. The fewer escort boxes and tribute gifts there were, the fewer bandits there were, and the chances of encountering Mysterious Realm bandit leaders dropped significantly. Conversely, the larger the amount of tribute gathered by gangs from players, the more bandits they attracted, and the more Mysterious Realm leaders appeared, leading to faster destruction!

Thus…
That day, some powerful factions with fewer goods to escort successfully repelled several attacks and retained their tribute gifts. Scarcity makes things valuable!

With most tribute gifts taken by the imperial court and the Green Forest Alliance, the few remaining in the hands of players became even more precious. More gangs began to spare no effort to track down their locations.

Originally…
If most gangs had obtained these gifts, they could have coexisted peacefully and grown stronger together. But now that their invaluable treasures, secret manuals, and miracle medicines were lost, how could they stand by and let a few exploit them to rise above them?

Driven by greed and ambition, even more violence erupted in the martial world. Even Shaolin Temple, a pillar of the martial arts world, was drawn into this disaster that terrified everyone…

Zhengzhou, Songshan Mountain.

Thirteen monks armed with sticks strode swiftly along the broad official road at the foot of the mountain, each with blood on their faces and signs of exhaustion from the journey. Behind them was an “open” escort carriage without any banners or coverings, carrying three brocade boxes; pulled by horses, it made a creaking noise as it moved forward.

“We’re almost there!”

Glancing at the towering Songshan Mountain, a group of Shaolin monks with ritual scar marks on their faces breathed a sigh of relief, their eyes shining with excitement and enthusiasm.

“Hurry up! Just two more li, and we’ll be in Shaolin’s territory!”

Delighted, they spurred their horses to go faster.

“Be careful! There’s someone!”

As they passed a pavilion, the men at the front narrowed their eyes and quickly whispered warnings to those behind them.

The monks’ eyes gleamed, their robes fluttering as they all stared toward the pavilion not far ahead!

The pavilions at the foot of Songshan Mountain, meant for travelers to rest, were simple and common—built from thatch and wood, with a stone table and several stone stools in the middle. But inside the pavilion sat two players who seemed outwardly friendly yet inwardly distant:

One was a disheveled middle-aged man, drunk, holding a jar of wine. He drank heartily at the stone table, occasionally smacking his lips in delight, clearly enjoying the wine immensely.

The man across from him was younger, dressed in blue robes that fluttered in the wind, his heroic headband waving. His facial features were gentle yet firm, giving him a fresh and handsome appearance. He seemed completely unbothered by the middle-aged man’s drunken behavior, offering a calm smile while fiddling with an ordinary-looking jade pendant in his hand. Even as the group of Shaolin monks passed by, he didn’t even glance up.

But the thirteen Shaolin monks clearly didn’t think the people in the pavilion were mere pilgrims. The leader whispered instructions to his companions:

“Yuanci! Send a signal so our brothers can come to assist…”

One of the men rushed forward, stared at the people in the pavilion, took something out of his pouch, and threw it into the air.

“Li!!”

With a shrill sound, a fiery red light shot upward, exploding in the sky with a “bang,” producing a not-too-bright flame.

The two men in the pavilion reacted differently.

The disheveled middle-aged man’s expression changed slightly as he glanced at the signal in the sky before returning to normal.

The young man in blue didn’t even lift his head, continuing as if nothing outside could compare to the allure of the jade pendant in his hand, remaining motionless as if unaware of anything.

The monks exchanged stunned looks.

They had already sent signals, believing that brothers from Shaolin would arrive to help soon. Yet these two remained indifferent—was it not they who were the target? Or… had they given up on robbing the convoy?
Moreover…
The area around the pavilion was open, with no places to hide, so there should be no ambush. Though he thought this, the Shaolin monk did not lower his guard and carefully protected the convoy as they moved forward.
They passed by the pavilion. The two inside still showed no reaction. Only the disheveled middle-aged man stopped drinking, set down his jar on the table, and glanced at the blue-clothed youth examining the jade with a hint of confusion.
In fact, by the time he arrived at the pavilion, the blue-clothed youth had already been there for some time. The youth, with his outstanding demeanor and noble bearing, appeared very young. Before he arrived, the youth had been looking toward Mount Song, his face showing a faint sense of longing and sorrow. Though he seemed like a different person now, it was clear he had some special feelings for Mount Song… or perhaps for Shaolin…
It was this strange change in the youth that made the disheveled middle-aged man think the youth must share the same goal as him. But when the Shaolin monk passed by, the youth didn’t even glance at him and ignored the signals, leaving the man uncertain again. Could it be that this boy wasn’t after this convoy?
As the Shaolin monks’ convoy disappeared from sight, the youth remained motionless, intently studying the jade in his hands. Finally, the disheveled middle-aged man stood up unsteadily. “A pot of… turbid wine… In this wandering life, I won’t accompany you any further.” Leaving the blue-clothed youth sitting alone in the pavilion, he staggered off in the direction the monks had come from, stepping unevenly.
He didn’t notice that the moment he left the pavilion, the blue-clothed youth gave a faint smile, shook his head slightly, and continued to focus on the jade.
The wind blew gently over the pavilion…
Faint sounds of intermittent sword clashes and hurried shouts could be heard in the distance.