Chapter Fourteen: The Treasure

The battle axe crashed to the ground, landing squarely on Nigul’s own foot. Yet he seemed utterly befuddled, staring dazedly at the “thief” before him. It was only after a long moment that pain finally registered and he let out an anguished howl, clutching his foot and hopping about on one leg.

Shaya wore a wicked smile. Bracing his arms, he hurled the tree he’d been cradling straight at Nigul. “Big guy, catch!”

“Ah! No—!”

Poor Nigul barely had time to cry out before the looming shadow of the tree pressed him flat. Fortunately, his size was not for nothing; in a rush, he wrapped his arms around the trunk, struggling to hold it up. Flattened against the earth, his face turned bright red, and he gasped for breath, screaming, “Help! Get this damn tree off me… cough, cough…”

“Bidaldo, use your magic!” Guri, still performing his naked dash, finally reacted and shouted at his wizard companion. The mage sprang into action, nimble as a cat, jumping back and pulling from his sleeve a small stick barely longer than a reed. He waved it briskly, and strange musical notes sounded from beneath his cloak.

Even Shaya felt a pang of apprehension—was he really a mage?

Having grown up in Wildfire Plains, Shaya was confident in his own strength, accustomed to fighting beasts and monsters in the wild, and brawling in Wildfire Town. Once he’d seen through these so-called “experts,” he hadn’t given them much thought. But—this one really was a mage?

He’d never fought a mage before.

Just as he grew uneasy, Bidaldo’s stick flashed with light, shrouding the mage. With a bang, a cloud of smoke exploded, and within it, Bidaldo transformed into a furry rabbit, darting into the grass and fleeing southward at full speed.

“…That’s his magic?”

Shaya nearly burst out laughing. He watched the rabbit vanish into the undergrowth, then quickly drew the fire fork at his waist and threw it.

Thud!

The fork became a streak of black, striking the rabbit’s tail and pinning it to the ground. A splash of blood followed, and Bidaldo’s anguished cry rang out as he reverted to human form, sprawled on the earth, wailing with Shaya’s fire fork embedded in his rear, blood spurting from the wound.

“Hahahaha…” Shaya strode over, planted a foot on the mage’s backside, and yanked the fork free, eliciting another shriek several octaves higher as Bidaldo thrashed his fists against the ground.

Turning, Shaya faced his last opponent—the goddess archer, Martha.

Never mind that she was only an imposter “Goddess of the Night”—even if she were genuine, without her bow, she’d be nothing more than a punching bag to Shaya.

“Hmm… The old man always said, it’s best a man doesn’t hit women, so you…” Shaya hesitated, intending to say, “so you’d best surrender.”

But the beautiful Miss Martha misunderstood the fierce thief before her. Faced with the man who’d dispatched her three companions in a flash, she paled and her legs trembled, her lips quivering as she burst into tears.

“Ah… you… You can rob me, but you mustn’t ravish me…”

Shaya: “…”

He stared wide-eyed at Martha, then suddenly shouted, “Ravish you? With a face like yours? You wish!”

He was furious, feeling insulted. Ravish her? With a face like hers?

Hmph! If he ever felt the urge, it would be for a real woman like Aunt Sophia in Wildfire Town.

(The old man smiles in his grave…)

Shaya walked over, kicking aside the silver sword saint Guri, then stood before Martha and snatched the iron bow from her hands. Martha dared not resist, almost eagerly handing it over before crouching meekly.

“Huh?”

As soon as he held the bow, Shaya sensed something amiss. A true iron bow would be heavy, but this one was light as a feather; though the bow was pitch black, a closer look revealed it was merely painted. A tap with his finger produced a crisp, hollow ring.

“Tch! I thought it was a fine bow, turns out it’s just a tin-and-iron fake. No wonder it’s so light.” Shaya sneered.

Tin and iron—light and brittle, usually for decoration. In Wildfire Town, children fashioned swords from it for play…

No wonder, earlier, Martha had drawn that bow to a full arc, only for her arrows to fly askew.

Shaya realized the bow was a sham, but the silver string was genuine. He snapped the bow, pulled off the silver wire, rolled it up, and stuffed it into his pocket, smacking his lips. “If you have anything else of value, hand it over now, or I’ll search you myself.”

Guri, flattened on the ground, glanced fearfully at their captor. “We… we only have a little money, on my belt…”

His belt had already been split by Shaya’s axe. Shaya found a purse on the ground, opened it, and saw only a dozen silver coins, not a single gold.

Though it wasn’t a bad haul, Shaya was still disappointed.

These self-proclaimed experts had less money than that poor wretch.

What followed truly taught the Four Youths of the Royal City the meaning of “ruthlessly greedy”—Shaya was like a starving ghost reincarnate!

First, he claimed Nigul’s battle axe, which was the real deal, far superior to his own firewood axe. Then, Martha, trembling, surrendered her white rhino leather armor at his threat.

Martha was mortified; without her armor, her inner garments were thin, and she hugged herself, terrified the thief would be aroused by her exposed flesh.

But the fierce bandit merely glanced at her with disdain and almost pity, sighing, “Ah, to grow up looking like this… pitiful, really. It’s not your fault you’re ugly, but perhaps you should go out less.”

Martha stared blankly.

Guri’s armor, split in two by Shaya, was bundled up (after all, high-quality steel sells well in Wildfire Town).

Nigul, finally rescued from under the tree, was stripped of his leather armor, and his giant shield made Shaya’s eyes gleam.

With a battle axe in one hand, shield in the other… ha! Now he truly looked the part of a well-equipped demon hunter!

The luckiest was Bidaldo. Shaya had eyed his leather robe, but the fire fork had pierced it, leaving it blood-soaked, so Shaya let him be.

“Are you really a mage?” Shaya was slightly more respectful. “Just now, you turned into a rabbit—is that magic?”

Bidaldo, sweat beading on his brow from pain, had no choice but to answer, “Of course it’s magic…”

“So, that’s all a mage can do?” Shaya was surprised.

Bidaldo hastily shook his head. “No, no. I’m trained in transformation magic, but I’ve only reached level one. If my power were greater, I could turn into fierce beasts—like bears or lions. Advanced transformation mages can become powerful magical creatures…”

So he really was a mage?

Shaya was filled with respect!

Then, without ceremony, he reached into Bidaldo’s pockets and began searching.

Rumor had it, mages were wealthy—magic gems, magic cores, magic crystals… each worth a heap of gold!

But Shaya was disappointed.

Bidaldo’s pockets were cleaner than his own two days prior. Not a gemstone in sight, not even a copper coin!

“How do you call yourself a mage?!” Shaya was furious. “Where are your magic gems? Crystals? Cores? Gold?”

Bidaldo opened his mouth, thinking: If I had any of those, I’d have advanced already—how could I let a thief like you bully me?

With no loot, the bandit lord was dissatisfied. And when he wasn’t happy, everyone suffered.

“Um… I can tell you a secret,” Bidaldo offered, struggling. “A secret to getting rich.”

Seeing Shaya’s disbelief, the mage hurriedly insisted, “I swear it’s true!”

His expression turned complicated as he glanced at the other three members of the Royal City Four, his eyes hesitant.

Shaya wasn’t stupid; he caught the odd look immediately, stroked his chin, grabbed the mage like a chicken, and dragged him into the woods, tossing him to the ground. “Alright, speak!”

Bidaldo, dizzy from the throw, dared not complain. He sat up, glanced nervously at his companions in the distance, confirmed they couldn’t hear, and forced a bitter smile. “Actually, my reason for coming to Wildfire Plains is different from theirs. I came for… I came for a treasure!”

He wore a mysterious look.

[Now for a brief aside regarding this book]

(The story is about to enter its core, with Shaya’s adventure in Wildfire Plains beginning in earnest—a journey full of danger and excitement, naturally connected to a “treasure”… What? Too clichéd, you say?

Frankly, writing fantasy novels, with such themes, often means the plot devices are similar. For example, just recently, when Shaya rescued the poor wretch, some readers complained: “Another hero meets the heroine, rescues her—so cliché!”

Yes, it’s cliché, of course. But think carefully—doesn’t it always happen? Guo Jing arrives in Jiangnan and immediately encounters the cross-dressed Huang Rong.

Cliché?

Yang Gu bumps about and happens to stumble into the forbidden grounds of the Ancient Tomb Sect.

Cliché?

Zhang Wuji jumps off a cliff and finds the Nine Yang Manual.

Cliché?

If Master Jin Yong can write it, why can’t I? If a monk can touch it, why not me? Hehe…

In truth, every novel has its tropes. But as an author, to craft a good story, you must work hard to bring fresh twists to the old clichés.

For example, I wrote the poor wretch’s first encounter with Shaya—a woman disguised as a man, a “cliché,” but I dared to have her break her leg, get her head bashed, and lose a front tooth… I’d wager no other author has written it quite that way.

That’s the novelty within the cliché. And of course, the two will have romantic developments—anyone can see the poor wretch is the heroine. But I’ll arrange it carefully; just wait and see—it’ll be something I’ve never written before! Hehe~

If I had her, disguised as a man, call out “Shaya brother” in a sweet little voice upon meeting the hero—I might as well plagiarize “The Legend of the Condor Heroes.”

Next, Shaya’s adventure in Wildfire Plains—obviously, that’s an essential part of any fantasy novel: adventure, monster hunting… haha.

So, rest assured, friends—watch as I, Xiao Wu, bring new life to these classic tropes!)