Upon first entering the Spirit Void 81. Circumstances Change

The title and the illusory mask had long since been enough for the man in charge of the hidden passages to report, by secret transmission, that the masked intruder had entered the underground residence through a concealed gate in the burial mound and had already broken through several traps. Yet he still did not know that the honored Lady of the Tenth Chamber had betrayed him, stolen the blueprints of the underground stronghold, and turned traitor.

Moreover, the masked man had only defeated a few of the simpler mechanisms. After reaching the Abyss Cave, no further report came in, and it was assumed that he had been trapped there.

He raised his eyes to the eight burly men standing guard opposite him, each holding a three-segment brass baton, and ordered, “Go at once to the Abyss Cave. Bring back the masked man bound and trussed for all to identify, then kill him on the spot and remove this menace to the martial world.”

The sinister old master laughed in self-satisfaction. When his laughter died away, he turned to the fair-faced vajra standing at his left and said, “Go at once to the kitchen and tell them to prepare a full banquet through the night, to wash the dust from the road off all our honored guests.”

After a slight pause, he added, “Tonight is the joyous occasion when the various sects acknowledge me as the leader of the martial world. It should be celebrated in grand style.”

His complacent boasting only deepened the dread and unease of the leaders of the various sects.

In that vast and magnificent Hall of Great Law, arranged so mysteriously, darkly, and fearsomely, the oppressive atmosphere grew even heavier. Though the hall was filled with experts of exceptional skill, it was as if each had a slab of lead upon his chest, making it hard to breathe.

Everyone stared toward the passageway through which the eight men had departed, and as time passed their unease grew more intense. If this were a contest of martial skill, a duel of blows and counterblows, no one would feel afraid. But a wager of life and death offered no certainty of victory, and the underground stronghold was so mysterious, its traps and mechanisms so ingenious and unfathomable.

Even if the masked man possessed the strength of ten thousand men, he was still only one person. Once he entered the passage, he would likely not escape the ambush of the mechanisms.

At that thought, Abbot Heavenly Vast dared not think further. He turned and glanced at the battered scholar, only to see that the man remained perfectly composed, slowly gnawing on a chicken leg bone.

Apparently unconcerned by the peril before them, the old abbot frowned and asked in a low voice, “My benefactor, did you see the masked man enter the underground residence?”

The battered scholar nodded and answered carelessly, “The masked man not only entered the underground residence, he also destroyed quite a number of the traps. Only you old monk were unaware of it.”

The abbot asked again, “The traps and mechanisms in that underground dwelling are exquisitely contrived. However high the masked man’s skill may be, he could hardly break them all. If he is captured by those devices and we lose our wager to him, that would be like fleeing a tiger through the front gate only to run into a wolf at the back. The consequences would be unthinkable.”

The battered scholar smiled faintly. “As the saying goes, an open spear is easier to dodge than a hidden arrow. And how much more so with these elusive traps and mechanisms? Whether the masked man has been caught, I cannot say for certain. If Heaven means to bring calamity upon the people of the martial world, then no mortal hand can turn it aside.”

Hearing how lightly he spoke, the abbot’s own tension eased a little, and he went on, “Where did you meet the Beggar Hero?”

“A thousand miles of fate brings people together; no fate, and even face to face they will not meet.”

“Did you not break into the Ghost Fire Formation? And afterward were you not received by the people of the underground residence?”

“For a wretch like me, do you think the cult leader would send anyone to welcome me? I never expected that my reckless stumbling about would run into you all and bring us under the same disaster.”

Then he added, “The Temple of Dharma has always stood first in the martial world. To fall today beneath a heretical cult is no simple matter.”

Though these words were spoken casually, they were harsh to the abbot’s ears. Yet the old monk had profound cultivation and took no offense. With a slight furrow of his brow, he thought: Since they were able to force their way through the traps in the passage and arrive here in the Hall of Great Law, the masked man could never have been captured. But if the masked man is not trapped by the devices, then he will become a great calamity to the martial world in the future. Truly, in this world it is hard to have it both ways.

At the thought, he could not help but sigh inwardly. Silently reciting the Buddha’s name, he swept his gaze around the hall, only to see that everyone else was staring blankly toward the passageway where the eight men had gone.

The sinister old master saw that his eight disciples had been gone so long without returning, and just as his heart had begun to settle, it grew tense again.

In his mind, the traps of the underground residence were such that, without the original blueprints, even the reincarnation of Lu Ban himself might not be able to break them. Unless someone from within the sect had sold him out and conspired from inside and out, then no matter how peerless the masked man’s martial skill might be, he would inevitably fall into the mechanisms and be captured without resistance.

Yet things had turned out so strangely that the masked man had not only obtained the blueprints for the underground stronghold’s mechanisms, but also had experts within aiding him from the inside. This was something the sinister old master had never dreamed of.

Suddenly, the lights in the Hall of Great Law flickered and dimmed, and panic showed on the old master’s face.

This was the prearranged signal of the underground residence. Such a signal was never used unless the situation was truly dire. Since the emergency signal had been sent, either the masked man had broken through another important mechanism, or someone within the sect had betrayed them. How could he not be alarmed?

He thought of rising to intercept the intruder, yet feared that Abbot Heavenly Vast and the others might seize the chance to break through the traps and escape. If he did not go personally to block them, he also feared that the sect’s traps and mechanisms might be ruined in one stroke.

As he hesitated between advance and retreat, the hidden door on the left suddenly burst open with a rumble. Out stepped an old man with snow-white hair and a frame as gaunt as a skeleton, moving as lightly as a drifting breeze until he came to a stop before the platform.

He cupped his hands and bowed to the sinister old master. “The Tenth Lady has betrayed the sect leader and stolen the blueprints of this residence. By joining forces from within and without, she has brought in a masked man who has repeatedly destroyed the traps and mechanisms of this residence. I have come especially to report this to the sect leader.”

Hearing this, the sinister old master was so enraged that smoke seemed to pour from his seven apertures. Without waiting for the messenger to say another word, he sprang upright and slammed a foot onto the hidden switch of the mechanism. At once the lights in the hall went out, and cries of alarm erupted within.

A moment later the lights came back on, and everyone saw that Mo Dao and the others had sunk into the ground, with only their heads exposed. Steel plates had clamped tightly around their necks, leaving them unable to move.

The sinister old master laughed heartily. “Please endure a little hardship for the moment, gentlemen. I have urgent business to attend to and must leave at once. I shall return shortly, and I will apologize for any discourtesy then.”

With that he leaped away. Just as he reached the mouth of the passage, he suddenly heard a shout from behind him: “Stop! Do you not feel ashamed to use such vile tactics? Fortunately, my eyes are keen and my feet swift, and I have not fallen for your tricks, you old monster!”

The old fiend was startled and turned around. Seeing this, he thought with great surprise: How did this old monster escape my ambush? There is something uncanny about this.

Forced to appear calm, he gave a cold snort and said, “To escape my iron collar trap, you truly count as a martial arts expert. For now, please rest here in the Hall of Great Law. Once I have captured the masked man, I shall return and have a drink with you as my honored guest.”

Having said that, he retreated swiftly by two steps and pressed a button. A thunderous rumble came from all sides. In an instant, the secret chamber doors of the Hall of Great Law had shut tight, and the sinister old master had vanished amid the rolling noise.

Only the eight burly men and the white-haired old man who had come in to report remained in the Hall of Great Law, stationed at the corners of the hall to guard the trapped crowd.

The old beggar raised his dog-beating staff and struck the iron gate of the passage with all his might. He had poured every bit of his lifelong skill into that blow; it should have carried at least a thousand pounds of force. Yet when it hit the iron gate, it was like a dragonfly shaking a stone pillar. There was only a clang, and not even the faintest dent appeared upon the gate. Thus one could see how stoutly the iron door had been made.

Just after the old beggar had struck the iron gate with his staff, someone behind him suddenly gave a cold laugh and said, “If you are bored from having nothing to do, then we might as well exchange a few blows and see.”

The old beggar turned and looked. The speaker was a man with a horse face, slanted brows above triangular eyes, and a crooked mouth. His short, thick lips could not cover his teeth, leaving a row of sparse black teeth of uneven length exposed. He could only be described as ugly beyond all reason.

Seeing that face, the old beggar also gave a cold laugh. “I, this old beggar, practice a set of dog-beating skills. You must surely be an accomplished man of the jianghu. If you want to compare swordplay with me, I wonder whether you are up to it.”

The crooked-mouthed man bellowed, “Enough nonsense. Show your weapon!”

He then took up a defensive stance and stared coldly at the old beggar.

The old beggar raised the staff in his hand and smiled. “This? Why, it is just a beggar’s dog-beating staff. I have begged all my life without ever being bitten by a mad dog, and I owe it all to this thing’s help.”

The white-haired old man who had just come to report stood aside. Hearing the old beggar reveal his title, he knew at once that this was the famed Beggar Hero, renowned throughout the martial world. He hurriedly called out to the crooked-mouthed man, “Hu the Third, this is the Beggar Hero before you. You must serve him with great care.”

Hu the Crooked-Mouthed nodded, then raised the broadsword in his hand and shouted, “Take this!” With a flash of cold light, he slashed straight at the old beggar.

The old beggar shifted aside, crying out loudly, “Hey, this is no joke. If your blade went into my chest, would not this old life of mine be finished?”

As he spoke, he met the attack with his staff. He did not seem to exert himself at all, yet he had already deflected Hu’s blade.

The others, trapped by the iron collars and mechanisms, truly did not know how he had escaped the trap without being caught in the collars.

Yet when they saw him fight, he remained as easygoing and comical as ever. His temperament was actually quite like that of the battered scholar, no wonder the two of them had taken to each other at first sight.

Mo Dao, however, had not avoided the strike and was caught as well. Watching the old beggar from the side, the battered scholar, though trapped in the collar himself, still did not lose his wit. Laughing heartily, he said, “Old beggar, now it is your turn to shine. If you cannot hold him off, this poor fellow can do nothing to help.”

The old beggar laughed with equal heartiness. “Rest easy. Just lie still and take your ease. When it comes to beating mad dogs, this old beggar has a few tricks of his own.”

Once Hu the Crooked-Mouthed engaged him, he immediately felt the force of the staff sweeping toward him like raging surf and wild waves. He quickly deployed his own saber technique to meet the attack, no longer daring to be careless.

Seeing how fierce Hu’s saberplay was, the old beggar at once unfolded his dog-beating staff technique, unhurried and composed, meeting each move with a response and each form with a break, while shouting, “This old beggar’s staff may not amount to much, but if a mad dog tries to bite me, it will never get its wish!”

Hu the Crooked-Mouthed launched several attacks, but none succeeded, and he grew both angry and irritable. At once he launched a series of rapid assaults, chopping out three ultimate strikes in succession.

These three moves flowed into one another without a break. The broadsword flashed with cold light, swift as lightning, fast as a meteor falling to earth, each strike aimed at the upper, middle, and lower vital points of the old beggar.

The old beggar merely flicked his dog-beating staff with his right hand and countered with three moves in a row. Though the staff techniques looked plain enough, each one concealed a finishing move within, and with casual ease he had already blocked and scattered the opponent’s fierce offensive.

Hu the Crooked-Mouthed attacked furiously three more times and still could not prevail. He suddenly stepped back three paces and was just plotting a vicious scheme in his mind when he heard the beggar laugh loudly and say, “In my life, I care about only one thing: fairness. You have attacked me eight times, so now I shall return eight blows. The two of us will decide victory and defeat with these sixteen moves alone. There are still many people behind us, after all. We should not hog the latrine forever and leave others itching with impatience.”

Hu the Crooked-Mouthed gave a cold snort. “Fine. Then come at me.”

The old beggar lunged in with one move, “Upper and Lower Crossing Blows,” which suddenly changed into “Flying Hammer Strikes the Bell.” These two moves seemed to be a single motion: the staff shadow appeared to smash down upon Hu’s head and sweep at his legs, only to be followed by a straight thrust to the chest.

The speed of the attack was like lightning, and its force was terrifying, crashing in like a mountainside-toppling tide.

With only two moves, the old beggar had driven Hu the Crooked-Mouthed into utter confusion. Hu did not know how to dissolve the attack, and his broadsword could only block high and guard low while his feet retreated step by step.

Pressing his advantage, the old beggar suddenly shouted, “If you can take this move, I, this old beggar, will admit defeat willingly.” Though his words came slowly, his hand moved quickly. He unleashed “Rise to Heaven, Sink to Earth” with the dog-beating staff. It looked as though the staff shadow were striking down from above, but in truth the staff force abruptly changed direction and stabbed fiercely toward the opponent’s belly.

Hu the Crooked-Mouthed was in the midst of raising his blade to block, never expecting the staff to shift so suddenly toward his abdomen. With no time left to change his stance, the old beggar’s staff had already pierced his belly. Only a shrill, miserable scream was heard. Hu’s abdomen had been pierced clean through; he collapsed on the spot with his bowels spilling out and died.