Returning to the Mysterious Era

Slash! Slash! Slash!

The sound of a hand blade cutting through bodies reverberated.

Cassius turned his gaze away and moved in another direction, walking some distance until he reached an inconspicuous corner. He placed his hands on the wall and flipped himself over it. When his feet landed, there was no sound because he had been using his hands the entire time.

He found himself in an overgrown clearing. Using a crouch gait, he moved carefully to avoid stepping on any rubble on the ground. After positioning himself sideways near a slightly damaged window, he peered inside.

It was an abandoned church. The white marble floor was covered in dust and debris, with cobwebs in the corners and piles of random, dark-colored items scattered about. The church walls, once adorned with religious carvings, were now faded and barely recognizable. White pillars stood around the perimeter of the church hall.

A figure in a black robe was slowly walking around in the center.

On the ground lay the bodies of Duststorm assassins, limbs sprawled in all directions. Some had their hands exposed, revealing the hourglass symbol and numbers marked on them. Cassius could see they were not low-ranked members.

"Fifty-two, Forty-four, Twenty-one, Fourteen, Five…" Cassius murmured to himself as his gaze shifted over the scene.

The guards at Duststorm's antique warehouse were clearly formidable as they were all experts. Just from the ones he could see now, there were three members ranked in the top fifteen of Duststorm, all of whom were capable of using the Black Blood transformation.

Without Cassius, the forces sent by the Ace of Spades would likely have not been enough to ensure a foolproof operation. Even conservatively speaking, there was a significant chance that their plan would fail.

But now, it seemed something unexpected had happened. A mysterious figure from an unknown organization had intervened and annihilated the Duststorm members.

Tap, tap, tap…

Footsteps echoed from another part of the church hall.

A man in a white suit walked over. He appeared to be in his thirties or forties, had a medium build, deep-set features, and a calm mien. His neatly trimmed beard was cut into a full, symmetrical style.

"Peacock."

The black-robed man spoke, his voice rasping like air leaking from a bellows. It sounded like he was painfully squeezing words out of his throat. "Dyson, have you found the Mirror of Illusions?"

"I found a basement which seems to be where they stored the antiques. But it’s locked. You’ll need to open it yourself," Dyson replied quickly, his gaze sweeping indifferently over the bodies on the ground, seemingly accustomed to such bloody scenes.

"Alright."

With that, the two disappeared into the church passage. Soon after, a sound resembling an explosion echoed from deep within.

In a short time, Peacock, the black-robed man, and Dyson, the man in the white suit, managed to transport a large collection of antiques into the hall.

There were hundreds of them, ranging from oil paintings and sculptures to necklaces and rings. However, the two didn’t seem to care much for these items; they were only focused on rummaging through them.

Peacock's hunched figure suddenly froze.

He pulled out a head-sized mirror from a pile of antiques. The mirror had no surface, and only a frame which was made of bronze and had a green patina, suggesting it had aged significantly, with the original intricate patterns now clouded.

"I've found it."

Dyson looked over, a hint of excitement on his face. "The legendary Mirror of Illusions from the ancient Soma myths. It's supposed to have the power to invert reality and falsehood. It’s said it can envelop the whole world in a deep illusion."

"Do you believe that?" Peacock asked flatly.

"Well, it's a myth, so there’s bound to be some exaggeration." Dyson chuckled. "Master Xiadu said the Mirror of Illusions is connected to the fabled Threefold Gate, serving as a cornerstone of the world’s foundation and mystery. Regardless of what it is, anything associated with the Threefold Gate is never simple. After over a year, we finally found the Mirror of Illusions in Beiliu County. We can return and report our success this time."

"Yes, you can go back and do that."

Suddenly, Peacock’s voice came from behind Dyson. A lightning-fast hand blade swiftly stabbed through Dyson’s back, blood and broken pieces of bone exploding out from his chest.

Dyson's face contorted with pain and disbelief. He had not expected Peacock to attack him just as their mission was completed. They had worked together for three years; he had been Peacock’s assistant since he had joined Gate. Their relationship was supposed to be closer than that of ordinary friends.

"Peacock… You!" Dyson coughed up blood, unwilling to die as he tried to turn his head.

"You're no use to me anymore now that we’ve found the Mirror of Illusions. Just die in peace," Peacock said, his voice hoarse and cold.

"Why? Are you betraying the organization?!" Dyson was clearly not an ordinary person, because despite suffering a fatal wound, he still stubbornly clung to life.

"Betray? How could I do that when I never intended to be loyal the moment I joined Gate ten years ago? The organization was merely a channel for me to gather intelligence and information. Why should that bastard Xiadu get the Gate Fragments when he has never lifted a finger? We travel all over the world, enduring countless hardships to collect these fragments, only to hand them over to him for free?"

The black-robed man’s emotions were clearly stirred as if the thoughts he had kept hidden for ten years were now erupting. "Do you think I joined the organization for any other reason? Wasn’t it for those Three Gates? Those gateways can restore my youth and allow me to continue my martial path."

"Gate Fragments? What are th—cough, cough…"

Dyson continued to cough up blood. He could feel life slipping from his body as his body temperature plummeted.

"Ha! Look at you, still foolishly working for that bastard Xiadu when you don’t even know what the Gate Fragments are. Did you really think Gate was merely an organization collecting mythological artifacts and ancient treasures? If it were, how could it attract so many experts from around the world? I see…so, you were never part of the organization’s top executives; you were just a spy Xiadu planted by my side. Now, be a good boy and die."

Peacock flung his right hand, and Dyson's body fell to the ground. Blood and bits of internal organs spilled from his chest. Dyson twitched on the ground, his shoulders trembling. The light in his eyes gradually faded, just like the blood flowing from his wound.

Peacock flicked his right hand, scattering blood droplets, and slowly lowered his hood, revealing a head of graying hair. It was clear that Peacock was very old, with a face full of deep wrinkles like tree bark and muddy and dull eyes.

But at this moment, he seemed rejuvenated, filled with youthful vitality. He bent down and took a compass from Dyson's body. It looked much like one used in navigation.

Peacock held the mirror frame in his left hand and the compass in his right, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. He seemed almost unable to contain his joy.

"Hmm?" He looked down at the compass, making a confused sound.

The black needle was pointing to the frame in his hand, but the ruby in the center stayed dark. This meant that the Mirror of Illusions frame did not contain a Gate Fragment but only had the aura of the Gate.

Peacock’s smile froze on his wrinkled face. Impossible! The compass clearly lit up before!

He lightly tapped the compass, suspecting it was broken, but no matter what he tried, the result remained the same.

"There should be a mirror surface as well. Where is it…?" Peacock turned around. He frowned. "Who's there?!"

His eyes flashed with a sharp light, and he instantly moved to the window. His aged right hand formed a claw, and with a swift strike, the window shattered.

Thud!

It sounded like his fist had collided with another.

Peacock stomped on the ground, and, with a loud crash, he leaped out of the window.

In the weed-infested clearing, a tall man came to a stop. In an instant, he shifted his stance from standing to a combat-ready pose. One foot forward, the other back, his hands were raised up to be parallel to his head, resembling a bull's horns. He gave off an exceptionally stable air at first glance.

"Oh? A practitioner from the Covert Martial Arts of the South?" Peacock seemed slightly surprised, but his expression quickly returned to calm. "It doesn't matter who you are; anyone who saw what just happened must die." The old man’s eyes drooped, and his lips moved slightly.

"I am the sole inheritor of the Peacock Sect from the Northern Covert Martial Arts, Jie."

As soon as he finished speaking, his frail, emaciated body swelled up like an inflating balloon, revealing a firm, muscular chest. Inch by inch, his hunched back slowly straightened. The previously eerie and sinister face of the old man suddenly became sharp and defined, exuding an aura of absolute confidence.

He spread his legs and lowered his stance. His arms swung like an eagle spreading its wings, making two circular motions in the air before coming to a stop. His hands formed into claws as if gripping an iron ball.

When Cassius stared at him, it was as if a ferocious bird of prey was swooping down. For a brief moment, it seemed like a white peacock spreading its wings in flight.

A combat artist!

He had had this feeling before when he first met Hardy, the practitioner of the Winged Serpent Fist, during his time-traveling days. He had felt overwhelmed by the presence and killing intent that emanated from a combat artist's aura and determination. Without a doubt, this old man before him was also a combat artist.

"Southern Covert Martial Arts, Cassius of the Wind Elephant Sect," Cassius also introduced himself.

Faced with such a formidable enemy, he didn't dare hold back. He entered his strongest state instantly. His entire form grew until he was like a towering iron pillar, his muscles bulging like rock-hard armor. Veins spread like branches across the backs of his hands.

Cassius's bloodshot eyes were bright red. His breathing, like the trumpeting of an elephant, sounded repeatedly in a rhythmic cycle.

"A pugilist who has mastered his art…" Peacock's pupils contracted. "Judging by your appearance, you must be about twenty years old. To reach such a level at this age, you must be a martial arts prodigy."

His gaze lingered on Cassius's formidable physique. "A young body is certainly full of vigor, and unfortunately, I am already so old… But even in my old age, you're still no match for me!"

As Peacock finished speaking, his body transformed into a black flash and vanished in the blink of an eye. The weeds on the ground swayed to one side with a whoosh.

Shriek!

A sharp bird cry suddenly appeared next to Cassius's right ear. That was all the warning Cassius got before Peacock stabbed viciously toward his ear, his left hand shaped like a bird’s beak.

Swish!

Cassius sidestepped at the last second. Peacock’s strike missed his ear and hit his sturdy shoulder instead. Cassius felt a numb pain on his right side; Peacock had actually broken through his hardening Qigong. Blood began to trickle from his shoulder. The shock also affected his joint, hindering Cassius’s strength.

An attack with extreme penetration… That would've seriously hurt me if that hit a vital point! I absolutely can't let him do that! Countless thoughts flashed through Cassius’s mind.

He stomped his left foot backward, pushing off with his toes, and lunged forward. His massive left hand clenched into a fist as if gathering all the surrounding air into his palm. Then, he swung his arm down in an extremely fierce chopping motion.

This move was called the Wind Elephant Torrent, powerful punch! It was one of the four most lethal techniques and the most ferocious in terms of power.

"A direct attack, huh? I may be old and unable to muster much strength, but there is still a chasm between a pugilist and a combat artist. You're still…" The moment Peacock's raised fist met Cassius's Wind Elephant Torrent, his expression changed immediately.

His legs shook, and Peacock retreated more than a dozen steps in an instant.

This retreat allowed him to only receive seventy percent of Cassius's punch. Peacock shook his numbed fist, his face growing serious. He has both astonishing strength and defense—at the level of a mastered hardening Qigong, at least. However, his speed and technique still lack refinement. I still hold the advantage in terms of overall strength, though. As long as I match my movement technique to the Peacock combat technique's power and hit his vital points right away…

While Peacock was swiftly assessing the situation, he saw Cassius reach into his coat and pull out a black object. Peacock's pupils contracted, and he immediately dropped down and rolled multiple times.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Bullets hit the ground, causing clumps of dirt to explode upward.

From the side of the church, Peacock's face looked grim. "A gun? Do you think I don't have one?" He reached for his waist, only to realize he really didn’t have one. The gun was still on the man in the white suit.

Bang! Bang!

Two more shots were fired and then stopped. It seemed like the bullets were all used up.

Peacock leaned forward, like a bird of prey diving from a great height. He dashed forward in an instant, his leap merely a flash, as he drew close to Cassius. His hands shot out rapidly, one after the other. As his arms extended halfway, they accelerated again as if equipped with springs, striking out with an even greater force.

After Cassius had used up the gun, he tossed it aside. His hands were wrapped in a white aura, and he slashed out with hand blade strikes. The surging blood caused the veins in his arms to bulge and contract.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Each clash of their hands emitted a firecracker-like sound. They shifted rapidly from fists to hand blades, to claw hands, and even to elbows. Various moves collided, and their energy canceled each other out, their sleeves shredding into pieces.

Cassius suddenly spun, his leg turning into a dark shadow as he kicked out.

Peacock raised his knee and slapped his right hand out to intercept it. He flicked his fingers three times against Cassius's lower leg, each contact carrying a heavy force.

Cassius immediately felt his right leg weaken, nearly losing his balance. Taking advantage of this opportunity, Peacock launched a fierce attack. His palm transformed into a claw and swiped out, the force strong enough to tear through a wall.

Cassius grunted, his chest and collarbone now splattered with two bloodstains. His clothes were in tatters. He was in a bit of a dire situation now. No matter how old his opponent was, he was still a combat artist. With his seasoned experience and ruthless combat techniques, he had gained the upper hand. The connections between his moves were too fast. Moreover, with Peacock’s exquisite movement technique, escaping would be difficult.

"Kid, you’re still too young…"

A cold gleam flashed in Peacock’s eyes as he charged forward quickly, throwing a punch like a cannonball. Cassius threw up his strong arms to block, but Peacock’s punch turned into a hand blade midway through and broke through his defenses. It transformed once more into a palm strike and viciously struck Cassius.

Thud!

Cassius felt a sharp pain in his chest, blood oozing from the corner of his mouth as he staggered backward. Just as Peacock was about to press his advantage—

Without any warning, the sky turned to night!