Proving God begins with the principle that no effort is wasted.

Chapter 91 The Black Wind Stronghold Massacre

Crimson blood soaked through the bluestone floor of the entire Black Wind Village.

Jiang Lan slowly stepped out from the main hall of the stronghold, his seven-foot-long iron spear hanging diagonally at his side, the blood on the blade dripping continuously from its sharp tip.

One by one, the beads fell onto the hard stone slab, quickly pooling into a glaring dark red puddle.

His gray cloth shorts were completely soaked in thick blood, the original simple fabric texture was no longer visible, and there were dried and undried bloodstains everywhere on his clothes, cuffs, and trouser legs.

Jiang Lan never wiped anything away, her expression indifferent and cold, as if the tragic scene around her had nothing to do with her.

Behind them, the wooden frame of the village gate was crooked and collapsed, and the thick door frame was covered with messy bloodstains, like the marks left by a dying person scratching in despair.

In the vast courtyard, the corpses of the Youzhangmen bandits lay scattered on the ground. Some were curled up on the ground, convulsing and still, while others lay on their backs with their limbs outstretched, dead. Each cold body was lifeless, like a tattered sack that had been carelessly discarded. An atmosphere of death enveloped the entire mountain stronghold.

The bonfire in the center of the courtyard was still burning brightly, and the leaping flames illuminated the faces of the dead with their eyes wide open. The extreme fear and terror remained in the eyes of those bandits, and the fear before death was deeply fixed in their pupils, never to be dispelled.

The ten elite guards under Liu Ruyan's command stood stiffly outside the courtyard, none daring to take a step forward. Their faces were pale and their bodies were stiff.

Several martial artists who had spent years traveling the world and were used to fighting were now gripping the hilts of their swords tightly, their knuckles white, and their legs trembling slightly.

The younger, less resilient nurse leaned against the wall, bent over, and retched violently, his stomach churning. He didn't even have the courage to look up and face the scene before him.

The remaining people had bloodless lips and were shivering. Their gazes toward Jiang Lan were filled with nothing but awe and horror.

They were all martial artists carefully trained by aristocratic families. They had roamed the martial world for years and seen countless battles, but they had never seen such a ruthless person who could sweep away an entire bandit stronghold with his own strength and whose ruthlessness was extreme.

The entire place was silent except for the sound of the wind and the crackling of the campfire.

Jiang Lan's gaze swept indifferently over the trembling guards, his voice low and cold, devoid of any emotion, each word ringing out in the courtyard: "Where is Wen Guishou's corpse?"

The team leader swallowed hard, forcibly suppressing the fear surging in his heart. His legs went weak as he took half a step forward, his voice dry and trembling, almost incoherent: "Master Jiang... Master Jiang, the chieftain Wen Guishou has been executed, and his body is in the main hall."

Upon hearing this, Jiang Lan nodded slightly, said no more, and strode straight toward the dark main hall of the village.

The heavy soles of the boots rolled over the sticky pool of blood beneath their feet, each step producing a slick, ear-piercing stomping sound. The steady gait carried an intense sense of oppression, making all the Liu family martial artists present gasp for breath.

Half an hour ago, the night was deep, the river wind was biting, and midnight was approaching.

The fog on the surface of the cold river surged, obscuring all traces. Jiang Lan crossed alone, his five fingers digging fiercely into the hard rocks on the shore. The sharp edges of the rocks were deeply embedded in his fingertips, but he felt no pain. He completely concealed his aura and hid in the shadow of the rocks, like a lone wolf lying in wait to hunt.

Black Wind Village stands by the river, its terrain treacherous and easy to defend. Two pale white lanterns hang high above the village gate, their eerie light reflected on the river. The entire village is heavily guarded, with three sentries on the riverbank taking turns on duty. Their patrol routes are fixed and they meet once every half a cup of tea.

Jiang Lan already knew the information recorded in the Scripture Pavilion by heart.

The Yin Sha Claw, cultivated by Wen Guishou, the leader of Youzhangmen, is a sinister and evil martial art that relies on the power of Yin Sha in heaven and earth to nourish the body and its claw technique.

At midnight, when Yin and Yang intersect, the Yang energy in the world begins to rise and the Yin energy dissipates. The Yin energy that has been condensed in one's body for many years will become briefly disordered and out of control, resulting in a period of weakness in cultivation lasting for half a quarter of an hour.

This is the inherent and irreversible fatal flaw of this martial art.

In this battle, Jiang Lan calculated the timing and location from the very beginning and planned the overall situation.

Just as the two patrolling sentries passed each other and their vigilance was at its most relaxed, Jiang Lan suddenly darted out like a ghost, her light footsteps treading over the pebbles on the shore.

All movement was drowned out by the roar of the river, and they approached the sentry post silently.

The outermost sentry was off guard, completely unaware that a deadly attack was about to strike from behind.

Jiang Lan closed in instantly, her left hand swiftly reaching out to cover the other's mouth and nose, preventing him from making any warning sound. Her right hand flashed with the cold light of a short knife, and she cleanly and decisively slit his throat.

Warm blood gushed out suddenly, the sentry's limbs convulsed violently a few times, and he died instantly.

Jiang Lan moved steadily and gently, slowly laying the corpse flat on the ground without making a sound, and continued to move forward.

The second sentry keenly sensed something amiss and abruptly turned to look. His eyes had barely caught sight of a figure in the shadows when alarm bells rang in his head, but it was already too late.

Jiang Lan had been holding three bone-piercing needles between her fingers for a long time. With a sudden burst of wrist strength, the needles shot through the air at a speed that was too fast for the naked eye to catch.

With a single, precise needle pierced the opponent's left eye socket, the needle's end sinking deep into his skull. The sentry didn't even have time to groan before his body fell straight backward, his head slamming hard against the stone steps. After a dull thud, he was completely lifeless.

Hearing the commotion below, the sentry on the high tower of the village gate hurriedly leaned out to look down. Jiang Lan had already quickly climbed the ladder and appeared in front of him in an instant.

The sentry's pupils contracted sharply. Just as he was about to shout a warning, a sharp dagger swiftly pierced his neck. The blade protruded from behind his neck, and a drop of scarlet blood hung on the tip of the blade for a long time without falling.

The three sentries on duty were all silently killed in an instant. Jiang Lan raised his hand and pushed open the heavy gate of the stronghold. Alone, he boldly broke into the dangerous heart of Black Wind Stronghold.

A bonfire blazed in the center of the courtyard, where five core leaders of the Netherworld Sect sat to keep warm. The person sitting in the main seat was none other than Wen Guishou, the notorious chieftain of the village.

He was dressed entirely in black, with specially made iron claws protecting his hands. A faint, dark, malevolent aura swirled around his fingertips, and his entire body exuded the pressure of a Condensed Strength Realm expert.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps rang out, and the four leaders turned their heads abruptly, their eyes locking onto Jiang Lan, who was slowly walking out of the shadows.

Wen Guishou's eyes narrowed sharply, a fierce killing intent surging within them. He roared in a deep voice, "Who dares to trespass on the territory of my Black Wind Stronghold? Are you courting death?!"

Jiang Lan stood at the boundary between the firelight and darkness, her face calm and expressionless, without uttering a word.

With three poisoned, bone-piercing needles already held between his fingertips, he suddenly flicked his wrist, and the three needles shot out in a triangular formation at a tricky angle, sealing off all of the opponent's escape routes.

Wen Guishou's cultivation level was firmly at the early stage of Condensation, and he had extensive combat experience. His reaction speed far exceeded that of ordinary martial artists. In a hurry, he forced his way to the side to dodge. Two needles barely grazed his ear and shoulder, and only one needle was blocked by his iron claw armor and fell to the ground.

However, the other leaders did not have such strong adaptability and were soon severely injured one after another.

One person was precisely pierced in the throat by a needle. He desperately tried to stop the gushing blood, but his body struggled violently. In just a few breaths, he collapsed and died.

Another person had a needle pierced in their temple. Their body stiffened for a moment, then they fell straight backward and died on the spot.

The last man, his heart pierced by a needle, looked down at the exposed needle tip in his chest, his eyes filled with terror and resentment, and collapsed heavily beside the campfire. His splattered blood fell into the flames, sending up bursts of pungent, acrid smoke.

Three leaders were killed in an instant; the scene was bloody and brutal, making the remaining people's scalps tingle.

"How dare you, you brat!"

Upon seeing this, Wen Guishou flew into a rage, his Yin energy surging violently as he leaped up from the armchair.

With its claws wrapped in a biting, chilling wind, it viciously slashed straight at Jiang Lan's face, bringing a wave of cold, malevolent energy that felt like falling into an icy cellar, the chill seeping into his very bones.

Facing the full-force attack of a Condensation Realm expert, Jiang Lan remained calm and composed, showing no sign of panic. He then drew his seven-foot-long fine iron spear from his back.

The spear tip, propelled by the force of the impact, leaped into the air, while the shaft, like a lurking venomous dragon suddenly emerging from the abyss, thrust its sharp edge straight for the opponent's vital point.

clang--!

The deafening clang of metal clashing reverberated throughout the entire mountain stronghold, and the violent collision sparked a sky full of blinding sparks.

The hard iron claws forcefully blocked the swift spearhead, and Wen Guishou took the opportunity to grip the thick spear shaft tightly. He suddenly exerted force with both arms, twisting and tearing wildly. The immense force was transmitted through the spear shaft, causing Jiang Lan's tiger's mouth to ache and go numb. The blood and qi in his entire arm surged violently, and the spear almost slipped from his hand.

Even in the face of danger, Jiang Lan remained extremely calm. He decisively released the lever of his left hand, and the dart he had prepared beforehand flew out. The sharp blade accurately struck the weak point in the iron claw armor, instantly tearing a long gash in the hard armor, and bright red blood dripped continuously from his fingertips.

Intense pain shot through his arm, forcing Wen Guishou to withdraw his strength. He staggered back several steps to steady himself, looking down at his bleeding hand. His face was extremely gloomy, and his eyes were filled with disbelief and shock.

He stared intently at Jiang Lan, his voice low and filled with surprise and doubt: "You're a Qi Condensation cultivator!?"

Jiang Lan stepped forward steadily, gun in hand, the tip of the gun firmly locked onto the opponent's aura.

His tone was extremely cold and arrogant: "I've come to take your head."

His arrogant and domineering words were incredibly grating to Wen Guishou's ears, fueling his anger even more.

He immediately unleashed the Yin Sha Claw Technique once more, his claws flying fiercely, each strike aimed directly at vital points, launching a relentless and frenzied attack.

Holding a long spear, Jiang Lan used the weapon's length advantage to maneuver with ease, blocking, seizing, stabbing, thrusting, pointing, and sweeping. His mastery of the "Eight Spears of Zhenyue" techniques grew ever more skillful.

By using ranged attacks to continuously deplete the opponent's energy and strength, and avoiding close combat, one can gradually control the rhythm of the battlefield.

Although the Yin Sha Claw Technique is fierce and domineering, it has a major drawback: it severely depletes one's own vital energy when activated.

After Wen Guishou launched a relentless attack for over a hundred moves, his internal energy and blood were nearly depleted, and his attack speed became visibly slow and weak, greatly reducing his combat power.

A cold glint flashed in Jiang Lan's eyes; he knew in his heart that the best time for the decisive battle had arrived.

At this very moment, as midnight arrived, the Yin and Yang energies of heaven and earth officially began to intersect, and the Yin energy that Wen Guishou relied on for his fighting power suddenly became chaotic and dissipated!

The evil energy within his meridians surged and crashed against him, causing his aura to plummet and his body to stagger slightly, completely plunging him into the inherent weakness of his cultivation technique.

His face instantly turned from crimson to deathly pale, then to a deep ashen blue. He lost more than half of his peak Condensation Realm combat power, his movements became stiff and sluggish, and he no longer possessed any of the ferocity he had shown earlier.

This is the moment!

Jiang Lan's eyes flashed with murderous intent. He quickly took out the Heavenly Thunder Talisman, which he had kept close to his body for a long time, and firmly attached it to the heavy spear shaft. He then used the energy from his meridians to propel himself forward. The spear suddenly unleashed seven or eight sharp, cold stars in the air, which were difficult to distinguish between reality and illusion, completely disrupting the opponent's vision and judgment.

Let's end it here!

Jiang Lan let out a low shout, and his fingertips suddenly detonated the lightning restriction contained within the talisman.

Boom—!

A deafening roar of thunder suddenly erupted, and blindingly bright white lightning instantly enveloped the entire courtyard. The violent and domineering power of thunder exploded, and the destructive impact sent Wen Guishou flying backward through the air.

He crashed heavily into the thick wooden beam behind him, causing it to collapse and shatter. Wen Gui Shou slammed down onto the cold, hard ground, spitting out a mouthful of black, foul-smelling blood, his aura instantly weakening to the extreme.

The sturdy iron claw armor shattered and broke apart under the thunderous strike. The skin and flesh of his hands were charred and turned inside out by the lightning, and the stark white bones were clearly exposed. The foundation of his Yin Sha Claw technique, which he had painstakingly cultivated for many years, was completely destroyed by this one blow.

Jiang Lan pressed his advantage, striding close to the critically injured and dying Wen Guishou. The cold, sharp tip of his spear was pressed firmly against Wen Guishou's throat, leaving him no room to breathe or resist. He looked down at Wen Guishou with an aura that dominated the entire scene.

Wen Guishou was on the verge of death, his eyes filled with resentment, fear, and disbelief. Blood gushed from his throat as he struggled to speak: "You...who exactly are you...Youjin Altar will not let you go..."

"Those who commit many evils will pay with their lives sooner or later."

Jiang Lan remained indifferent, and with a slight exertion of force in her wrist, the sharp spearhead pierced straight through the opponent's throat.

The infamous leader of the Youzhangmen stronghold, who had dominated the area and was known for his ruthlessness, died on the spot and never spoke again.

After eliminating their strongest enemy, the remaining leaders who had scattered and fled were terrified and had lost all will to fight. They were only concerned with running away and trying to survive.

One person panicked and ran wildly toward the village gate, while another tried to jump into the river to escape. The remaining two were barely held back and fought by the guards of the Liu family.

Jiang Lan stood in the center of the courtyard, his posture upright and aloof. He didn't bother to personally hunt down the fleeing criminals. He simply raised his hand and flicked his wrist, and two sharp coin darts flew out of the air with the speed of the wind.

One dart precisely severed the man's neck vein, while another pierced his kneecap. The man screamed and collapsed heavily onto the muddy ground, struggling a few times before losing all ability to move.

Seeing that the last leader was about to leap into the river to escape the pursuit, Jiang Lan suddenly exerted force in his arm and threw the seven-foot-long spear with all his might, as if it were a heavy javelin.

The spear, accompanied by a whistling wind, hurtled through the air and pierced the bandit's back. The sharp spear tip suddenly emerged from his chest, pinning him firmly to the muddy riverbank. His body twitched and struggled futilely for a moment before finally succumbing to its wounds.

In a brief battle, all five core leaders of the Netherworld Sect were killed, and the entire Black Wind Stronghold bandits were wiped out without exception.

The ten guards of the Liu family outside the courtyard witnessed Jiang Lan, at the Condensation Realm, forcefully kill a powerful enemy who was also at the Condensation Realm.

Ruthless in his methods, exceptionally intelligent, and possessing astonishing combat prowess, Jiang Lan stirred up a storm in everyone's hearts. Their gazes toward Jiang Lan were filled with utter shock and heartfelt awe.

They originally thought Jiang Lan was just an ordinary sect disciple, at most with decent skills, but they never expected that his combat strength would be so unbelievably powerful.

To single-handedly pacify an entire dangerous bandit stronghold—such strength and character are among the best of the younger generation.

Jiang Lan paid no attention to the shocked and awe-inspiring gazes of the crowd. She slowly walked to the side of Wen Guishou's cold corpse, squatted down, and carefully searched his personal belongings.

He took out a yellowed and old fragment of the martial arts manual "Yin Sha Claw" from his bosom, along with a series of secret letters bearing the exclusive sealing wax mark of the Youjin Altar. The handwriting on the letters was obscure, and the contents were probably confidential matters secretly exchanged between forces.

He carefully put the two valuable items away from his body, then turned his gaze toward the dark and deep cellar in the depths of the hall.

The accountant, who had been kidnapped by bandits during the chaos, was now huddled in a corner, trembling all over, pale with fright, curled up like a frightened little mouse.

"Where is the entrance to the cellar?" Jiang Lan asked coldly, her tone calm yet carrying an undeniable authority.

The accountant trembled with fright, hurriedly raising his tear-streaked face. Not daring to hide anything, he pointed tremblingly to a thick stone slab in the corner: "Sir...the valuables and medicines are all hidden in the cellar under this stone slab."

Jiang Lan stepped forward, forcefully lifted the heavy stone slab, and leaped into the dark cellar.

The cellar was spacious, with several huge oilcloths neatly stacked inside. He unwrapped them one by one to inspect them, and everywhere his eyes swept across, there were valuables.

Inside the enormous package lay piles of dazzling gold ingots, fine gold leaves, and exquisite jewelry inlaid with precious gemstones, gleaming in the dim light, their value immeasurable.

In another package, a thick stack of large-denomination silver notes was neatly arranged. A rough count revealed that the amount was more than five thousand taels of silver!

In addition, there are several bottles of high-quality, rare cultivation pills, which are invaluable resources for martial arts cultivators.

The spoils from this bandit suppression operation amounted to an enormous fortune.

Jiang Lan remained calm as she gathered and packed all the gold, silver, treasures, banknotes, and pills, then shouldered the heavy bundle and climbed out of the cellar.

"Just return with the Liu family members outside," Jiang Lan casually instructed.

The accountant felt as if he had been granted a pardon, and scrambled out of the cold, gloomy hall, not daring to linger for even a moment longer.

Jiang Lan stepped out of the main gate of the stronghold again. The courtyard was littered with corpses, and the clothes of some bandits were set ablaze by the campfire, emitting a pungent smell of burning.

The team leader hurried forward, still unable to hide his shock, and respectfully reported: "Master Jiang, all the cargo ships carrying the rare medicinal herbs that were looted have been recovered, and all the escorts are safe and sound, with no casualties."

"Gather supplies and return to base immediately."

Jiang Lan's tone was concise, her aura sharp and authoritative, brooking no questioning or disobedience from anyone.

The group of Liu family guards dared not delay and hurriedly began to count the medicinal herbs and supplies before quickly boarding the ship to prepare for the return journey. When they looked at Jiang Lan's back, everyone was filled with awe. In their hearts, they regarded this young sect disciple with heaven-defying combat power as a ruthless and powerful person they dared not provoke.

The ferry slowly left the shore, breaking through the thick morning mist on the river, and sailed steadily towards Anxi City.

Jiang Lan stood alone at the stern of the ship, the evening wind ruffling his blood-stained clothes, his figure proud and upright.

He retrieved the spear he had thrown and placed it quietly across his knees. The dried, dark red bloodstains on the spear remained firmly attached, and its chilling, murderous aura lingered for a long time.

The outline of Black Wind Stronghold behind us shrank continuously in the morning mist until it became a blurry black dot and completely disappeared at the edge of our vision.

When the ferry docked safely at Anxi Wharf, Liu Ruyan was already there, personally leading a team to wait...