The Golden Light Master, who spoke these words, stood at Jia Tianlong's side—a dwarf barely three feet tall.
He appeared to be in his forties, gaunt and withered, clad in a crimson robe embroidered with golden thread. Gold rings adorned his fingers, a thick gold chain hung from his neck, and several golden bells dangled at his waist. When he opened his mouth to speak, golden light flashed within—clearly, he wore gold teeth. In every respect, he cut the figure of a vulgar nouveau riche.
At this moment, his face wore an expression of undisguised impatience, plainly displeased with Jia Tianlong's hesitation and vacillation.
That such a wretched-looking dwarf, dressed like some country landlord, should treat the great Gang Leader Jia with such disrespect naturally enraged the loyal Iron Guards nearby. Their glares were sharp enough to cut.
The dwarf noticed their displeasure but merely gave a cold, derisive chuckle, paying them no mind. Instead, he addressed Jia Tianlong with arrogant condescension:
"Master Jia, you spent three thousand taels of gold to bring me all the way from the Golden Light Monastery. Surely you didn't intend for me to stand here watching all night? If there's someone you need me to deal with, speak plainly. Surely you haven't brought me to fight the Sect Leader of the Seven Mysteries? Such a feeble opponent you could handle yourself—hardly worth my golden touch."
"The Sect Leader of the Seven Mysteries is not worthy of a celestial master's attention," Jia Tianlong replied with elaborate deference, showing not the slightest trace of discourtesy. "I have invited you to deal with his three grand-uncles. Though long believed dead, these three have been in seclusion within a secret chamber at Sunset Peak, undergoing their death meditation. Their cultivation has likely reached a transcendent realm, far beyond ordinary experts. They are the Seven Mysteries' final bulwark—and only you, Master, can handle them."
The red-robed dwarf was someone Jia Tianlong had encountered by chance at a Taoist monastery near the barbarian territories. The man called himself the Golden Light Master, claimed limitless magic power, and had personally demonstrated the flying sword technique and the Indestructible Golden Body before him.
Having witnessed these supernatural arts with his own eyes, Jia Tianlong had been profoundly shaken by their power, recognizing the man as one of the legendary cultivators. A desire to cultivate a lasting relationship had immediately taken root.
Upon learning of the dwarf's obsessive love for gold, Jia Tianlong had showered him with lavish gifts and carefully curated flattery. Eventually, he had won the man's favor and secured a promise of one intervention on his behalf.
Henceforth, Jia Tianlong treated the dwarf with the deference of a junior, never allowing the faintest flicker of distaste to cross his face at the man's arrogance. He knew full well that the Golden Light Master was not someone his modest Wild Wolf Gang could afford to offend.
Upon hearing this, the Golden Light Master let out a burst of wild laughter. When the echoes subsided, he spoke with haughty assurance:
"Mere mortals—leave them to me! No matter how high their cultivation or how formidable their martial arts, they cannot withstand my flying sword. Rest easy!"
"Then I must thank you, Master. I shall not default on my promised payment. Moreover, upon success, I am willing to add another two thousand taels of gold as a bonus." Jia Tianlong was overjoyed and immediately raised the stakes. He understood well that this was no benevolent figure—gold was the only language that truly moved him.
The Golden Light Master's withered, orange-peel face cracked into a thin smile. He nodded with satisfaction, clearly appreciating the Gang Leader's good sense.
With the Golden Light Master's guarantee secured, Jia Tianlong wasted no further time. He ordered all remaining Wild Wolf Gang forces to advance to the summit of Sunset Peak and prepare to assault the Hall of Seven Mysteries—the heart of the sect.
The press of bodies was so great that Jia Tianlong and his Iron Guards struggled to reach the stone hall. It was the first time the Gang Leader had seen his nemesis's headquarters, and despite himself, he was struck by the Hall's grandeur. Compared to this, his own headquarters seemed nothing more than a dog kennel.
Upon the summit's several acres of open ground, massive halls of dark blue stone rose into the sky—one great hall flanked by six smaller ones. Though the darkness and flickering torchlight obscured their full majesty, their towering, rugged, imposing presence was enough to awe the Wild Wolf Gang and the lesser factions. No one moved to attack; instead, they surrounded the halls in an impenetrable ring.
"After all, they are a sect with over two hundred years of heritage," Jia Tianlong thought with a touch of envy. "Their wealth is something my decade-old gang cannot rival. How extravagant!"
He had already decided that once the Seven Mysteries fell, he would relocate his headquarters here. Such magnificent architecture befitting a regional overlord.
Jia Tianlong glanced at the dark entrance of the main hall, then surveyed his subordinates. Slowly, he raised his right hand.
Instantly, the entire summit fell silent. Every eye fixed upon that raised palm. They all knew that when it began to descend, the brutal assault to annihilate the Hall of Seven Mysteries would commence.
"Hold."
At that moment, a cold voice issued from the black maw of the main hall.
Then came the rhythmic *clack-clack* of measured footsteps, growing clearer with each step.
Finally, a middle-aged man in white appeared at the entrance. A wooden hairpin secured his hair, and he wore nothing but a long sword in a white scabbard. His face was deathly pale, yet his eyes burned with piercing intensity—where his gaze fell, it pierced the heart like a blade, chilling the soul.
He stopped several yards from the entrance and slowly surveyed the crowd arrayed before him, his expression betraying not a shred of fear.
At last, his eyes settled upon Jia Tianlong's still-raised hand, then drifted upward to the Gang Leader's face.
"Jia Tianlong." The middle-aged man spoke the name.
"Wang Juechu." The Gang Leader returned the acknowledgment without hesitation.
"In truth, for two men who each command a territory, this is our first face-to-face meeting, isn't it, Sect Leader Wang?" Jia Tianlong's tone was laced with mockery, a sneer playing at the corner of his lips as he slowly lowered his hand.
Wang Juechu regarded him with a face as expressionless as stone, saying nothing. The tension between them thickened like a gathering storm.
"Sect Leader Wang comes alone—does he intend to surrender?" Jia Tianlong's voice carried a note of amusement, his smile tinged with derision.
"Indeed, I have come to discuss terms of surrender with you." The Sect Leader of the Seven Mysteries replied with the frigidity of ice.