Chapter 100: The Black Wind Bandits

Chapter 100: The Black Wind Bandits

The Black Mountain Range is one of the famous mountain ranges on the Kasla Continent.

Its fame does not stem from its size—though it is indeed vast. The Black Mountain Range is renowned because it is infested with bandits, a veritable den of robbers.

Due to the rampant banditry, no merchant caravans dare to pass through alone. Therefore, except for those of large guilds, smaller merchant groups travel in convoys, hiring mercenaries for protection.

The Black Mountain Range stretches like a natural chasm across the continent, severely hindering north-south traffic. As the range is so large, any detour would incur a delay of many days.

Thus, merchants take their chances and pass through. Although caravans are robbed from time to time, this does not dampen their enthusiasm.

This has led to a proliferation of bandit groups. The continent's ten greatest bandit groups are all concentrated here. However, the range is so vast that each stronghold is usually far from the others. Moreover, an unspoken rule exists: each group has its own territory and must not cross boundaries to poach.

Lin Xing was currently walking through the Black Mountain Range. Having long heard of the notorious bandits, he wanted to see them. But after three days, he hadn't encountered a single person, let alone any bandits.

Speak of the devil. Just as this thought crossed his mind, a group appeared on the road ahead, blocking it in a line. From their looks, they were clearly bandits.

Lin Xing shook his head. *Talk about timing. Think of something, and it appears!*

"Hey, you there, kid! What are you smiling at? Mocking our Black Wind Stronghold?" a burly man shouted, pointing at Lin Xing.

"The Black Wind Stronghold? The Black Wind Bandits. My luck is incredible—the first group I meet is the continent's tenth-ranked. No wonder I've seen no bandits lately. I must be in their territory. What foolhardy bandit would dare cause trouble here?"

He had heard, however, that the Black Wind bandits were considered somewhat honorable, as they never killed innocents indiscriminately. This change was said to have occurred gradually in recent years.

"Black Wind Bandits? Interesting," Lin Xing said with a smile.

Seeing himself completely ignored, the burly man flew into a rage. "Who will go and give that kid a good beating?"

"Chief, I'll go!" a young man said.

"Good. Beat him until his own mother wouldn't recognize him, but don't kill him. We still need to make money off him."

The young man approached Lin Xing, who continued to watch them, smiling. He wanted to see if the legends were true.

The young man stopped in front of Lin Xing and glared. "Kid, you're out of luck. You've angered our chief. Handing over your treasures earlier would've gone easier for you. Now, it's too late."

"Because you've provoked our chief, you'd better submit to a beating!" With that, he threw a fierce punch at Lin Xing's face.

Seeing this, the burly man assumed Lin Xing was done for, as he seemed to have no power or aura whatsoever.

A shrill scream made the chief frown. "I told you not to use so much force! If you kill him, how..." Suddenly sensing something amiss, he turned and was immediately dumbfounded, staring in a daze.

Just as the fist was about to connect, Lin Xing's hand moved slightly and caught it. A slight squeeze, and the young man screamed like a slaughtered pig.

Lin Xing gave a light tug, throwing him to the ground, then stomped on him, pinning him completely. The young man could only lie there, wailing.

The others were still in shock, unable to react. Lin Xing's movements were too fast. They had seen the punch, so how was the youth now pinned underfoot in the blink of an eye?

"A master!" The thought popped into their heads. They all looked at their dumbfounded chief.

"Chief?" Someone nudged the burly man with an elbow. He snapped out of it, wiped non-existent drool from his mouth, glanced at his men, then back at Lin Xing.

Lin Xing simply sat on the young man's back, still smiling at the chief.

"Hey, you're the chief, right? So, which Stronghold Master are you?" Lin Xing had heard of three, but this man didn't match any description.

"Stronghold Master?" At the mention, the burly man's eyes lit up with admiration, a reverent expression shared by the others.

The chief straightened up. "Our three Stronghold Masters disdain to deal with your sort. Usually, I, Ayr, handle it! Defeat me, and our Masters will appear," he declared loudly.

"So, if I defeat you, your Masters come out?" Lin Xing stood up, looking at Ayr.

The young man, seeing his chance, scrambled up and fled back to the group.

"Of course. But can you defeat me? You look so frail, I might break you apart with one slap."

"Oh? Come and try," Lin Xing said, a strange idea forming.

"Come on then, who's afraid?" Ayr stepped forward, though feeling uneasy inside.

"I'll let you have three moves!" Lin Xing smiled. This Ayr was close to the level of a Great Sword Master. Lin Xing's strength wasn't fully recovered, but dealing with him was more than enough.

Startled by Lin Xing's speed but infuriated by his dismissive tone—*that would make a saint swear*—Ayr roared and swung his blade down.

Lin Xing shifted slightly, avoiding the strike. "Two moves left."

Enraged, Ayr stomped the ground, leaping into the air to deliver a fierce kick at Lin Xing's head.

"One move left." Lin Xing easily avoided it again.

"Hmph!" Ayr snorted, mustering all his strength for another charge.

"Three moves are up." Lin Xing simply reached out and grabbed the blade swinging toward him.