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Chapter 163 - A Survivor’s Story

The sun had long set by the time two figures, one short and the other tall and burly, approached the stone fortress at the base of Deadfall Cliffs. A cool mist rolled across the rocky ground, concealing the many pools that dotted the ground outside the fortress.

"Hey, you can't die yet," the shorter man hissed, punching the taller man in the ribs. "You're lucky I know where Little Boss Nalan kept his elixirs or you'd have died for sure. That elixir was expensive, you can't waste it by dying before you tell the Boss what you saw! Now stay close to me and don't get lost."

"Mmm," the large man rumbled, straightening himself up and following closely behind the shorter man as they wound their way through the scattered pools to enter the fortress.

Of course, the obscuring mist and the deceptively deep pools weren't the only defenses along the approach to the fortress. A powerful formation laid down decades ago not only sustained the mist but prevented anyone in the mist from being able to see more than twenty paces ahead of themselves. 

If you didn't know the route or the markers to navigate through the mist, not only would it be difficult to find your way out, but the formation would gradually restrict your vision until you blundered into one of the deep pools only to be devoured by the beasts swimming beneath the surface.

Thankfully for San, while it took all of his strength to keep walking along the path, the correct route wasn't very long and they were able to exit the mist without any mishaps. When the two men approached the heavy iron-bound gates of the fortress, the short man nervously announced their presence.

"I am Butcher Tong from Little Boss Nalan's group," he called out. "Little Boss Nalan is dead along with most of the group. I brought this new recruit. He saw the massacre. We need to tell our story." Several moments passed in tense silence before there was a response from the ancient stone fortress.

"The wind howls through the Mountain's Bones," a rough voice called out from behind the heavy gates.

"Bones never rattle, never crack, never break. Mountains never bow, never yield, never fall," Butcher Tong replied, irritated that whoever was watching the gates insisted on putting him through this when it was clear as the ring in a bull's nose who he was. 

"Now hurry up and let us in, I don't know how much longer this recruit will last, he needs to see the Boss before he dies," the short man said curtly.

When he said it that way, San stiffened, balling up a meaty fist and punching the shorter man in the shoulder. As weak as he'd become, the punch landed with all the force of one thrown by a teenage girl, but it made his displeasure clear.

"What?" the short man sneered, looking up at the half dead San. "I told you, if the Boss finds value in keeping you alive, he may be willing to expend a pill on you to save your life. If he sees no worth in you, then you can only rely on yourself," Butcher Tong spat.

Thankfully, it didn't take long before he was shown to the grand hall in the core of the fortress. One large throne stood high on a dias, flanked by four smaller thrones on either side. It was rare for any event to see all nine thrones occupied, but each of the Mountain's Bones' Little Bosses was entitled to their own seat on this dias. By the time Butcher Tong and San arrived in the throne room, two men had already taken their seats.

The former Deputy Lord Mayor of the Outer Blossom Ward, Little Boss Fantian Wong, had adapted well to the life of a bandit leader. Gone were the stately robes of an appointed official and in their place the Novice Scholar had draped himself in finer silks and dark brocade. At his waist, Fantian Wong wore a belt hung with a chain of small finger bones, each one taken from one of his victims since joining the gang. As a collection of trophies, it was very small compared to the trophies displayed by others, but it did much to demonstrate his commitment to embracing his new identity.

While Fantian Wong sat in a chair the furthest from the central throne, the other man in the room took a seat directly adjacent to the throne in the center. Draped in dark robes marked by intricate patterns and sporting a long, thin mustache and narrow beard, Fortress Lord Wen Wu radiated a might that instilled both fear and awe in any who stood in his presence.

Seeing that they had drawn the attention of the second most powerful leader of the Mountain's Bones gang, Butcher Tong immediately knelt, dragging San down to kneel beside him.

"Butcher Tong pays respects to Fortress Lord Wen and Little Boss Fantian," he said quickly. "I offer apologies for the recruit beside me, his throat was torn and he cannot form words."

"Am I to understand that you two are all that remain of the group under Little Boss Nalan?" the Fortress Lord asked, his dark eyes peering intently at the two men kneeling on the floor.

"Yes, Fortress Lord. We were attacked by a ruthless witch who slaughtered everyone in the back room," Butcher Tong began. "I escaped by happenstance, I was disposing of failed recruits in the back of the shop. This recruit cultivates a powerful body-strengthening art and was able to cling to life until I discovered him and used one of Boss Nalan's healing elixirs to preserve his life."

"Tell me about this witch. Who is she? What are her powers and why did she do this?"

"She is a beautiful woman, dark of hair with silver eyes," Butcher Tong began. "Taller than most with a humble chest. She gave the name 'Hua Qianhu' and referred to herself as 'Sister Vixen.' She said she was part of Fenglun's gang and came looking for a new Boss to support since someone killed Fenglun before the eclipse. I didn't see her powers, but when I looked at the slaughter, everyone died where they stood, throats slit or chests pierced, and all of them marked with a smudge of black paint. Little Boss Nalan died in his chair with his tunic cut open but I saw no wounds or marks of torture. The recruit knows more," he said, prompting San to action.

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