Chapter Forty-Eight: Quickening Steps, the Leader of the Devotees

Within the small courtyard of the Marquis of Whitebrow.

“Not bad, very good indeed.”

The wizened elder’s face revealed a look of satisfaction, his formerly indifferent demeanor replaced by a warmth as he spoke kindly, “What is your name?”

“I am Bai Qianjian,” answered a tall and handsome youth, his voice resounding with excitement.

He was a direct descendant of the Bai family. After just over a week’s practice of the Tiger Pounce Step, he had mastered its entry level, his strength soaring as he broke through the first boundary of vital energy and blood, becoming a martial artist.

“Excellent. Your talent surpasses these other children tenfold, a hundredfold. You must be carefully nurtured!” the elder said with gentle affability.

In a corner of the courtyard.

“Comparing oneself to others is truly maddening,” Bai Tianyuan remarked, shaking his head with a touch of helplessness as he stood with Bai Xuan.

“It took me twenty days just to grasp the basics, and even now, I’m still one step short, with a six-meter gap to cross.”

“If one lacks talent, only diligence can make up for it,” Bai Xuan replied calmly.

He had broken through just the night before, his strength greatly increased, but he saw no need to reveal it. With a bounty on his head from the Star Pirate Hunters, exposing his abilities everywhere would be sheer folly.

“How are things at sea lately?” Bai Tianji had returned home, apparently because of some dispute over a change in position. He had yet to come back, and the sailors of the Thousand Currents had each received a sum of silver, returning home to enjoy the warmth of their families, able to pass a year without going back to sea. Bai Xuan could only gather news about the situation on the water through inquiries.

“Rumor has it that the authorities are preparing to dispatch marines to suppress the Star Pirate Hunters, but I doubt they can be relied upon,” Bai Tianyuan said, worry etched upon his face.

The Song navy, he feared, would be useless even in old age—utterly incompetent. Black pirates had run rampant for decades without intervention. Counting on them to eradicate the bandits was a fool’s hope—relying on oneself was a safer bet.

“Let’s hope they succeed,” Bai Xuan replied coolly.

No matter what, it would be best if the authorities’ navy could deal with the Star Pirate Hunters. Who wouldn’t want to live in an orderly, harmonious world?

Yet sometimes, things were simply beyond one’s power.

At that moment, the wizened elder, having finished his praise, turned and caught sight of the two in the corner, his brow creasing.

“Bai Xuan, come to my chamber!”

Bai Xuan hesitated briefly, then followed him into the spacious main hall, where sandalwood pillars supported the structure. Despite its unassuming exterior, the interior exuded a striking opulence.

“You still haven’t grasped the basics?” the elder rolled his eyes. “What don’t you understand? I’ll teach you. The Tiger Pounce Step is all about embodying the tiger crouched in the forest, with essence, energy, and spirit flowing as one. The spine is the great dragon, containing all the force…”

The elder taught with utmost seriousness, guiding Bai Xuan hand in hand. It took nearly half an hour before the lesson ended.

“If you have questions, come find me,” the elder waved him off, ushering Bai Xuan out.

“So the Marquis of Whitebrow isn’t cold after all—just a bit ill-tempered,” Bai Xuan mused, somewhat surprised.

The Marquis had taught him with utmost dedication and care, not simply offering perfunctory guidance for money, but treating him as a true disciple, a member of the family to be taught with sincerity.

Having just absorbed the Marquis’s teachings, Bai Xuan found new insight blossoming within him—his understanding of the Tiger Pounce Step deepened.

…

Several days passed in a blur.

At the docks.

“Boatswain, after his leg was broken, he’s been downcast. I heard he joined that Seven Seas Society, and he’s been going more and more often. Hasn’t been back these past few days,” a sailor scratched his head as he spoke.

“I understand,” Bai Xuan’s expression darkened.

After discovering these Sea God cultists, he began to investigate those around him. Over several days, he found that among the Thousand Currents’ crew, several had joined this sect—including the young sailor who’d lost a leg.

“It’s likely he’s met with misfortune,” Bai Xuan thought grimly.

He’d learned through various channels that the missing fishermen on the island were not just one or two, and most of those vanished were poor, elderly, or disheartened. Judging by the Sea God cult’s methods, their fates were all too clear.

He had reported this to the authorities, but the constables were indifferent. It seemed he would need another identity to make progress.

…

As dusk fell, the Marquis’s disciples departed in small groups. Bai Xuan and Bai Tianyuan walked together.

“Bai Xuan, have you ever thought of starting a family?” Bai Tianyuan asked.

Having spent time together recently, he’d been moved to try matchmaking for Bai Xuan. In his eyes, Bai Xuan, though orphaned young, possessed remarkable martial prowess; sixteen and already a boatswain, he might be first mate within five years, and perhaps captain within ten—a fine prospect for any family.

“Start a family?” Bai Xuan shook his head.

He had no time for that. The world was rife with danger; though Thousand Mountains Island seemed peaceful, the Sea God cult lurked in its shadows, possibly plotting some dark scheme. Should the Star Pirate Hunters descend, disaster could strike at any moment.

Taking on a family would only add a new vulnerability. Until he was truly strong, he could not afford to be bound by such ties.

“We’ll speak of it in the future. I haven’t established myself yet—how can I marry? I’d only delay someone else’s life,” Bai Xuan answered with cool composure.

Back in the small courtyard.

“Without strength, how can I think of family? If I have to flee, bringing another person would make swimming away impossible.”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Bai Xuan practiced his palm technique in the courtyard, his movements as fluid as a fish, as swift as a galloping horse, as fierce as a tiger. One moment he lunged forward, the next he leapt back. His speed reached the extreme, his figure a mere afterimage.

Under the Marquis’s guidance these past days, his movements had improved rapidly, merging the abilities of the fighting shark. With a single step, he could leap ten meters, swift as lightning—covering forty or fifty meters in a single breath. It was a true explosion of speed, sudden and unstoppable.

Ordinary bows and crossbows would struggle to hit him now—his speed already faintly surpassed Qian Yuan’s.

Swish!

Bai Xuan drew in his azure-scaled aura, exhaled a plume of white breath that shot out like a sharp sword, leaving a mark upon the artificial rock.

He had also completely mastered the strength of the Great Achievement of Bronze Skin.

“Today, the Seven Seas Society invited me to their gathering… It seems I have no choice but to go,” Bai Xuan’s gaze was cold.

What was the point of all his cultivation, if not for moments like this? When the time came, he could act decisively, resolve disaster before it began, and eliminate future dangers once and for all.

He left the house.

…

Near the shore, a grand estate sprawled, imposing and vast—sixty miles from Bai Xuan’s small courtyard.

The estate stood amidst cultivated land, perched on a cliff at the edge of Thousand Mountains Island, close to the bay. Remote and damp, it was buffeted by sea winds for most of the year, the place perpetually dripping and moldy, seldom inhabited.

Within this labyrinthine manor, dozens of servants in brown robes moved quietly about their duties.

Tonight, however, lamps burned along all four walls, and nearly a hundred people had gathered.

“Tsk, tsk—were it not for the Seven Seas Society, how would folks like us ever come to a place like this? It’s always the great families who live so well.”

Some fishermen gawked in awe, muttering in wonder.

All around were ordinary fishermen, invited to the gathering to hear the Seven Seas Society preach.

Nearby, the bearded men and others conversed fervently with brown-robed servants, their faces showing feverish zeal.

They had already recruited enough followers; their standing in the cult would soon rise.

To one side, Bai Xuan stood silent among the crowd, hidden at the rear. He had searched for the one-legged sailor but found no trace, sighing inwardly.

“There’s still hope. In a bit, the authorities should arrive,” Bai Xuan calculated silently.

He did not act yet—he was no bloodthirsty murderer. He merely suspected the truth: these people were Sea God devotees, likely engaged in nefarious deeds.

Thus, he had not launched a slaughter but had reported the gathering to the authorities in advance, claiming a blood sacrifice was to take place, one hundred lives to be taken!

Whether or not the blood sacrifice was real… Well, they were Sea God followers regardless. Let the authorities investigate. If he had to do everything himself, what use was law and order?

If the authorities arrived, perhaps more people could be saved; the outcome would be far better.

Just then—

“The high monk has arrived!” someone whispered in awe.

Beneath the lamps at the fore, an elderly figure in a monk’s robe, with kindly eyes and a benevolent face, stepped forward and bowed to the crowd.

“What powerful vital energy,” Bai Xuan thought, lowering his gaze. He was ninety percent certain that this was the leader of the Sea God cult’s stronghold.