Panlong's Worton

Chapter 18 Hise, Poison, Dissuasion

On the evening Linley returned to Fenlai from the valley, the sky was so overcast it seemed to press down on the rooftops. As he walked through the front yard of the mansion, the butler hurried to greet him, his expression somewhat strange.

"Young master, there are guests waiting."

Linley stopped and unloaded his pack—it contained several level-seven magic cores and a few rare medicinal herbs he had hunted in the mountains. "Who?"

"A gentleman... holding a cardinal's token," the butler said in a low voice, "has been sitting in the living room for half an hour, just drinking tea and not saying a word."

Cardinal's token? Linley frowned slightly. His relationship with the Holy See had always been delicate; although he received attention because of his talent, they had never truly become close. This visit at this time…

"Go ahead and get busy," Lin Lei said. "I'll go check on things."

An oil lamp was lit in the living room, casting a dim, yellowish light. A man in a dark red robe stood with his back to the door, looking up at a landscape painting hanging on the wall. His posture was relaxed, even somewhat languid, but as soon as Lin Lei stepped across the threshold, his body instinctively tensed.

That's a soldier's instinctive reaction to danger.

The man turned around. He looked to be in his thirties, with an ordinary face—the kind of person you'd easily lose in a crowd. But his eyes—deep gray, calm as a stagnant pool—could send chills down your spine if you stared at them for more than a few seconds.

Lin Lei recognized him.

"Mr. Hise."

Hise, the King of Slaughter, a Saint-level assassin who has lived for six thousand years, was someone Linley had met briefly before in the Monster Mountain Range. Hise was hunting a rogue member of an assassin organization when Linley stumbled upon them, and the two had a brief conversation. Hise commented that Linley's stone sculpture was "interesting," and then disappeared.

I never expected to see you here again.

"Linley Baruch." Hise smiled, a faint smile, but a slight ripple stirred in the still water of his eyes. "It's been over a year since I last saw you. You've made great progress."

Linley didn't respond to that, his gaze falling on the token hanging from Hise's waist. It was dark gold, engraved with the cross emblem of the Holy See, and edged with the thorns characteristic of cardinals. This token couldn't be faked; anyone in Finlay who dared to forge it should be rotten to the bone by now.

"Mr. Hise has come with the token of the Cardinal; what brings you here?"

"I wouldn't call it guidance." Hise walked to the coffee table, sat down, and poured himself another cup of tea. "I'd like to ask you for a favor."

Lin Lei sat down opposite him: "Please speak."

"Sculpt a stone statue." Hise took a sip of tea. "Based on me, but to capture... the allure of killing."

The living room was silent for a few seconds. The sky outside the window darkened further, and a muffled rumble of thunder came from afar.

"The allure of killing?" Linley repeated.

"Yes." Hise put down his teacup, his hands forming a fist in front of him as if he were holding a non-existent dagger. "Not ferocious, not violent, but that kind of... focused, precise, elegant moment. Do you understand what I mean?"

Lin Lei looked at him. This assassin, who had lived for six thousand years, had a very serious look in his eyes at this moment; he wasn't joking.

"Why are you looking for me?"

"Because you can see it," Hise said. "Last time in the Monster Mountains, you saw me deal with that traitor. There was no fear in my eyes, no moral judgment, only observation. You were observing the movements, the rhythm,... the beauty. A stone sculptor who can't see these things can't create a true masterpiece."

Lin Lei paused for a moment, then said, "I need time to observe you."

"I can cooperate," Hise said. "However you need me to move, however you want me to pose, I can do it. As for the payment..." He pulled a small cloth bag from his pocket and tossed it onto the coffee table.

The bag was loosened, revealing several deep purple crystal cores. These were the magic cores of an eighth-level magical beast, each worth tens of thousands of gold coins.

Lin Lei didn't even look at the magic cores: "I don't want money."

"What do you want?"

"Help me kill someone."

Hise smiled, this time with a hint of amusement: "King Clyde?"

Linley did not deny it. Since Hise had managed to find this place and possessed the cardinal's token, he naturally knew about the feud between him and Clyde—at least the superficial part of it.

"No," Hise shook his head. "Killing a king, even one from a small country, would have too many consequences. It would be difficult to explain to the Holy See."

Are you afraid of the Vatican?

"It's not fear, it's trouble." Hise picked up his teacup again. "I've lived too long and learned one thing: some troubles should be avoided if possible. Those charlatans in the Vatican aren't hard to kill, but after killing them, more charlatans will pop up. It's annoying."

Lin Lei stared at him: "Then what are you here for? To demonstrate your principles?"

"Here's another option for you." Hise put down his teacup, leaning forward slightly. "Killing Clyde doesn't necessarily require me to do it. You can do it yourself."

"He is a level nine warrior."

"Even a level nine warrior is human," Hise laughed. "Humans can be poisoned, injured, and die. While I can't personally intervene, I can teach you how."

"What method?"

"Use poison."

A flash of lightning streaked across the window, briefly illuminating the living room. Thunder followed, rumbling and rattling the windowpanes.

Hise took a piece of parchment from his sleeve and spread it on the coffee table. The parchment listed the names of eight medicinal herbs, written in neat handwriting, but the paper was yellowed and the edges were worn.

"Hemolytic poison." Hise pointed to the parchment. "It's colorless and odorless. If mixed into food and drink, a level nine warrior who drinks it will lose more than 70% of his battle aura within half an hour, and his physical strength will be reduced to less than one-tenth. Moreover, it cannot be detected by conventional testing methods—it does not destroy the source of battle aura, but only temporarily blocks the circulation of battle aura and muscle strength."

Lin Lei carefully examined the eight medicinal herbs. The first six, though precious, could be found on the market. The last two—"Mist Grass" and "Cloud Poria"—were completely unfamiliar to him.

"These two..."

"Extremely rare," Hise said. "Mist Grass only grows in the poisonous mist swamp deep in the Monster Mountain Range. It takes ten years to mature, and it must be used within three days after being picked, otherwise its medicinal effects will be lost. Cloud Poria is even more troublesome. It does not grow on the ground, but in the crevices of cliffs thousands of meters high. It survives by absorbing water vapor from the clouds and mist, and it only grows to the length of a finger after a hundred years."

Lin Lei noted down this information: "What about the recipe?"

"Wait until I'm sure you can carve the piece I want." Hise put away the parchment. "A month from now, if I'm satisfied, I'll give you the formula. If I'm not..." He stood up, "Just pretend you never saw me."

"When do you want me to start?"

"Now is fine." Hise walked to the open space in the center of the living room. "Is there anything I can do?"

Lin Lei also took out tools from his storage ring—a set of carving knives and several pieces of bluestone blanks. He got into position, but didn't start working immediately.

"Mr. Hise, please recall the moment when you were most focused when you committed the murder."

Hise closed his eyes. A few seconds later, he opened them, and his entire demeanor had changed.

The languid guest from before had vanished. Standing there was a drawn sword, sharp, cold, and deadly. His right hand was loosely clenched, his left hand slightly raised, his body weight lowered, and his eyes fixed on a non-existent target ahead.

It wasn't the kind of ferocious, overwhelming killing intent, but rather an extreme restraint—all power, all will, and all killing intent were concentrated at one point, waiting for the moment of explosion.

Lin Lei's carving knife moved.

Stone fragments fell in a soft rustling sound. He didn't look at Hise, nor at the stone; his eyes were half-closed, and he moved entirely by instinct. The carving knife traced clean and crisp lines, each stroke landing precisely where it should.

Hise remained in that position, motionless, his breathing so light it was almost inaudible.

It started to rain outside. The raindrops pattered on the roof, making the living room even quieter. The oil lamp's light flickered slightly, casting long shadows of the two people on the wall.

An hour later, Lin Lei stopped wielding his knife.

The stone blank was already taking on a human shape—a posture of bending forward, poised to strike. The face was not yet carved, but the lines of the body were already there: taut muscles, limbs poised to unleash power, and the tension of an impending explosion.

Hise walked over and looked at the stone. He looked at it for a long time.

"Good," he said. "Continue."

For the next seven days, Hise appeared precisely every evening. Sometimes he would bring rare carving materials—deep-sea jade, obsidian formed from volcanic lava, or even a small piece of star iron. Linley used these materials to practice, and his skills became increasingly refined.

They rarely spoke. Hise posed, Linley sculpted. Occasionally Hise would offer a few pointers, about the details of exertion, the angle of the gaze, the subtle changes in the muscles. These pointers didn't involve training; they were purely about "posture" and "atmosphere."

On the evening of the seventh day, Linley completed the third statue. This time, he used a piece of dark red blood jade brought by Hise, and carved the moment of the sword being swung down—the blade had just touched the target, and before the blood had even splattered, the chill of death had already spread.

Hise stared at the statue in silence for a long time.

"That's fine," he said. "This is what I wanted."

He took another parchment from his pocket and placed it on the coffee table. This parchment was older, and the writing was dark brown, as if it were written in blood.

"The complete formula for the hemolytic poison, including the refining method and dosage," Hise said. "You already know the eight ingredients. The first six aren't hard to find, the last two... well, that depends on your luck."

Linley picked up the recipe and examined it carefully. The refining process was very complicated, requiring precise control of the heat and mental guidance—not difficult for a magician, but almost impossible for an ordinary person.

"Thanks."

"No need to thank me, it's just a transaction." Hise put away the blood jade statue, carefully wrapping it in silk. "And let me remind you: Clyde isn't stupid. He'll notice if you openly collect these materials."

"I need Yunling; it's priceless and unavailable."

"So you need to plan ahead." Hise walked to the door, then turned back. "One last piece of advice: don't rush into anything. Wait until everything is ready, and wait for the most opportune moment."

He pushed open the door and went out, his figure disappearing into the rain in the blink of an eye.

Lin Lei gripped the formula tightly.

Over the next month, Lin Lei began to act in secret.

He went to Yale first. When the young master of the Dawson Chamber of Commerce heard he needed these materials, he patted his chest and assured him, "The first six are on me; I can gather them in half a month at most. The Mist Grass is a bit more troublesome, but the Chamber of Commerce happens to have a team going to the Poison Mist Swamp soon, so I've asked them to keep an eye out. As for Cloud Spirit..."

Yale scratched his head: "I've heard of this thing, but I've never seen it. It's said that the last time it appeared was thirty years ago at an auction in the O'Brien Empire, where it fetched a sky-high price of two million gold coins."

"Put a reward on my head," Lin Lei said. "One million gold coins for Yun Ling."

"One million?" Yale's eyes widened. "Linley, are you sure? That's no small sum."

"Sure."

The bounty was quickly spread through the Dawson Merchant Guild's channels. The news of a million gold coins offered for a single medicinal herb caused a stir in Fenlai City and throughout the entire Holy Alliance, like a pebble thrown into a calm lake.

Some scoffed, thinking it was just a publicity stunt. Others were intrigued and began searching the family's ancestral medicine storehouse. Still others secretly inquired, wanting to know what this genius magician of the Baruch family was up to.

It was at this point that Walton broke through.

Late that night, Lin Lei was studying a formula in his study when he suddenly sensed intense energy fluctuations coming from the training ground in the backyard of the mansion. He put down the parchment in his hand and hurried over.

On the training field, Walton was enveloped in dark red battle aura. Unlike the flamboyant aura of ordinary warriors, this aura flowed close to his skin, like a layer of liquid armor. His eyes were closed, his fists clenched, and his body trembled slightly, clearly pushing himself to a critical point.

Lin Lei stood on the sidelines, not disturbing him. He could feel his younger brother's aura steadily rising—peak of level seven, early stage of level eight, mid-stage of level eight…

Finally, Walton opened his eyes. A burst of dark red battle aura erupted, forming a visible shockwave around him. The ground cracked, and debris flew everywhere.

Level 8 warrior, done.

Moreover, Linley could sense that the aura of dragon blood within Walton was several times stronger than before. If he were to transform now, he could probably reach the high-level of the ninth rank.

Walton suppressed his fighting spirit, looked at Linley, and smiled: "Brother."

"When did you get back?" Lin Lei walked over.

"Three days ago," Walton said, cracking his knuckles, "Grandpa Ciri said you were busy lately and told me not to bother you. So I started cultivating on my own."

Lin Lei sized up his younger brother. A twelve-year-old level eight warrior—his talent was astounding. But he didn't ask any further questions; everyone has their own secrets.

"Did you come back for something?"

"Hmm." Walton nodded. "I heard you're collecting Yunling. Brother, what are you planning to do?"

"Hemolytic poison." Linley's voice was terrifyingly calm. "Lord Hise said that just a fingernail-sized amount mixed into food can reduce a level nine warrior's strength to one-tenth within twelve hours."

"Brother," Walton said, his voice a little hoarse, "when are you planning to make your move?"

Lin Lei carefully placed the jade bottle back on the stone platform and turned around. The seventeen-year-old boy had a handsome face, but his eyes held too many things that did not belong to his age—the grief of losing his father, the anger of learning the truth, and the long-brewing murderous intent.

"After I prepared the poison," Linley said, "I had already made my plans."

He took out a roughly drawn map from his pocket and spread it on the stone platform. It was a layout map of part of Fenlai Palace, with several locations circled in red.

"Clyde takes a walk in the royal garden every three days in the evening, which is one of his few regular routines. I will deliberately 'injure' myself the day before and send someone to the palace to ask for healing medicine. As is customary, the royal family will send a royal physician, and Clyde himself may even come to visit me—after all, I am now the kingdom's youngest genius stone sculptor and a genius magician at Ernst Academy."

Lin Lei's finger traced the route marked on the drawing.

"If he comes, poison his tea. If he doesn't come, I'll request an audience with the emperor under the guise of thanking him for the medicine. Either way, as long as he drinks the laced hemolytic poison..."

"And then?" Walton interrupted him. "After the poison takes effect, kill him in the palace? Dude, that's the palace, heavily guarded, with magic arrays monitoring it. Even if Clyde's strength is greatly reduced due to the poison, how can you guarantee you'll escape unscathed?"

"I have Beibei." Lin Lei looked at the black shadow mouse crouching in the corner.

Bebe squeaked and leaped onto Linley's shoulder, its little eyes gleaming with ferocity. This Shadow Rat was now an eighth-level magical beast, its speed so great that even ordinary ninth-level warriors could hardly catch it.

"Bebe can create chaos, and my speed can reach level nine after I transform into the Dragonblood Warrior. As long as the plan is meticulous, we can leave the palace before the guards can react." Linley's tone was full of confidence. "Walton, I've waited too long for this day. The words my father couldn't say before he died, the truth about my mother's disappearance... Clyde must die."

Walton's heart sank.

That's the plan. In the original story, that's exactly what Linley did—feign injury, lure Clyde to his door, poison him, and then…

Then Pope Haitings of the Holy See will appear out of thin air.

That Saint-level powerhouse arrived just as Clyde was poisoned and Linley was about to succeed, severely injuring Linley with a single blow and imprisoning him in the Inquisition's dungeon. If it weren't for the "Day of Destruction" that arrived six months later, and Dillian's destruction of Fenlai City, Linley would have died in that dungeon long ago.