Chapter Thirty-Nine: Gao Jian's Betrayal

He An burst out of the mountain cave camp, using his lightness skill to race toward Zheng Yiqing more than thirty feet away. A wave of intense numbness overwhelmed him; gritting his teeth, he barely managed to reach Zheng Yiqing and his group before stumbling and collapsing to the ground.

Butler Cao hurried to intercept him, brandishing his sword to deflect the arrows flying toward He An.

“He An, what’s wrong with you?!”

Zheng Yiqing rushed to support the fallen He An, shaking him vigorously, his face stricken with terror. He An was his greatest support for survival on this island—without He An, he was doomed.

“Poison…!”

He An’s face had turned ashen; with great effort, he uttered the single word before losing consciousness. The poison was too fierce. As he had fled the camp, spurring himself on with his internal energy, the venom had circulated all the faster, and he could no longer suppress its effects.

“Young Marquis, He An may not make it! Without an antidote, even cutting off his arm won’t stop the poison’s spread.”

Steward Hou examined the wound on He An’s arm, and his expression darkened. The flesh around the cut was already black, with dark lines creeping along the veins into the depth of his limb and further into his torso.

“No—! Charge! Kill your way into the camp, dismember all four of them, and avenge He An!”

Zheng Yiqing was dumbfounded at the news, then suddenly went mad, shrieking at the captives and his own martial followers.

Suddenly, chaos erupted at his side.

The captive who had been forced to the front, Gao Jian, suddenly grabbed a spiritwood spear from the ground and drove it into the body of one of Zheng Yiqing’s martial followers beside him. The unsuspecting man was skewered and fell to the ground with a wretched howl.

Beside him, Huang Yi also wielded a spiritwood spear, knocking down another of Zheng Yiqing’s men.

“Brothers! The large raft Zheng Yiqing built only holds a dozen—he never intended to take us off this island! He’s using us as human shields, treating us as expendable! Why should we fight for him? Wake up! If we join forces with the martial artists in the camp, we might have a chance. But if the camp falls, we’re all as good as dead.”

Gao Jian, having turned on his captors, bellowed at the other prisoners.

They froze, their expressions shaken; clearly, his words had struck a chord.

The martial artists fell into chaos as well. Zheng Yiqing’s followers squared off with Gao Jian and his group, glaring murderously, the standoff threatening to erupt into all-out brawl. The attack on the mountain camp ground to a halt.

“Gao Jian! How dare you rebel against me?!”

Zheng Yiqing was stunned, trembling with rage. At this critical moment, with He An just poisoned, Gao Jian had chosen to revolt—a slap to the face that ignited his fury.

“Bah! I, Gao Jian, am a scion of the aristocracy of Yan, a free knight, not a dog of the Zheng family! How dare you speak of rebellion? You, a spineless coward, dream of being my master? If not for He An, could you ever have captured me?”

Gao Jian swept his spear in a wide arc, the cold point aimed at Zheng Yiqing as he snorted derisively.

“Gao Jian, you—you! Some of your people are still in my prison camp! If you rebel, I’ll have them all killed the moment I return!”

Zheng Yiqing’s anger was at a breaking point, but then a cruel idea struck him, and he grinned menacingly.

“Young Marquis, you brought all your men here yourself—there’s no one left guarding the prison camp! We never tried to escape before because there’s nowhere to run on this island, the sea beasts are everywhere, and only your camp was secure, all the best weapons in your hands. You ruled here because you had He An, the best martial artist in Zheng. But now there’s someone who can stand against you—even He An can’t take the camp. Why should we stay slaves in your prison? Thief, hurry back to the camp before they do—get our people out and bring them here. Better to serve this camp than be Zheng’s slaves!”

Gao Jian laughed heartily.

“Understood!”

A short and nimble martial artist responded, his figure flickering away from the cave camp and vanishing into the dense forest, sprinting toward the prison camp. Formerly a thief in Yan, he had always followed Gao Jian. Though his martial skills were mediocre, his agility was unmatched save for He An. With He An unconscious from poisoning, no one could outrun him. He could easily reach the prison ahead of Zheng Yiqing’s men and bring their comrades to safety.

“Damn it! Kill those traitors—now!”

Zheng Yiqing was so furious he nearly coughed blood, his eyes bloodshot with rage. He roared at his men. He still had the advantage in numbers, and not all the prisoners had rebelled.

“Kill!”

Zheng Yiqing’s trusted men, the bearded and wiry martial artists, shouted and charged at Gao Jian, Huang Yi, and the other prisoners.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Ye Mo, having observed the upheaval outside the camp, was overjoyed and ordered Mo Ling and the others to support Gao Jian’s group. From the three low wooden arrow towers in the camp, archers loosed three sharp arrows at Zheng Yiqing’s followers.

In an instant, chaos reigned outside the camp.

Gao Jian, Huang Yi, and the other prisoners formed a tight defensive circle, their spiritwood spears sweeping wide to drive back Zheng Yiqing’s attacking martial artists.

Gao Jian was, after all, a top-level martial artist among the younger generation of Yan. With He An out of commission, who could easily defeat him? With Huang Yi at his side, they could fend off three or four skilled martial artists at once.

Zheng Yiqing’s side was now left with only two high-level martial artists.

The three wooden arrow towers, overlooking the field and only thirty feet away, rained precise, concentrated volleys that posed a deadly threat to Zheng Yiqing’s group.

Soon enough, Zheng Yiqing’s men were overwhelmed, arrows finding their marks, and their lines began to break.

“We can’t hold them!”

“Retreat! Everyone, fall back!”

Butler Cao and Steward Hou, seeing the situation was dire and unable to break into the camp, realized they were little more than sitting ducks under the arrow towers. Abandoning Zheng Yiqing’s orders, they dragged the frenzied young marquis back, shielding him from the arrows as they shouted for the others to retreat into the forest.

The poisoner Lin Zhi, swayed by Gao Jian’s speech, hesitated—unsure whether to stay or flee with Zheng Yiqing. But after a moment’s thought, he decided that Zheng Yiqing’s group was still the strongest on the island; with He An (if the antidote was administered), they could survive longer. Once He An was cured and Zheng Yiqing had crafted a batch of spiritwood shields, the arrow towers could easily be neutralized. Ye Mo’s cave camp would fall soon enough. There was no need to rebel in haste.

With that, Lin Zhi followed Zheng Yiqing’s group into the forest, retreating toward the prison camp.

“Gao Jian! You traitors, and that wretch—just you wait! Next time, when I seize your camp, I’ll have you all hacked to pieces to vent my hatred!”

From afar came Zheng Yiqing’s furious, desperate howl, growing fainter as his once-proud band of warriors, having arrived full of fight, slunk away in defeat, vanishing into the depths of the forest.