In the end, Jill Young decided to spare Elder Vajra’s life.
It had been ages since she’d had so much fun beating up a humanoid. Today’s kicking and stomping session was a blast, so in her good mood, she only robbed the Vajra Sect of all their best stuff—nothing more, nothing less.
This war against the Vajra Sect paid off handsomely.
First up: patented goods. The Black Jade Bone Renewal Balm—finished product, recipe, and all raw ingredients—were swept clean, and she even snatched the full set of Ironplate Bodyguard Technique manuals. If we ever get enough people and tweak the method, we might actually field an Ironhead squad on the battlefield. Just picture it—iron heads, iron arms, iron crotches, stacked with layers of Titan Spirit Method. If we had dozens or hundreds of these guys, it’d be a sight to behold. Makes your mouth water just thinking about it.
Next, the loot haul. The Vajra Sect itself wasn’t loaded, but the treasure unearthed from White Camel Manor was nothing to sneeze at. Add in all sorts of other goodies, and it really felt like hitting the jackpot. Once everything was loaded onto the horses, over a hundred warhorses ended up carrying piles of treasure.
But if all the warhorses are hauling loot, what about the people? Are they supposed to walk home?
No rush, no rush. The real prize from this victory is coming up next.
“Whoa~~~~!” Jill’s eyes lit up. “Are these Akhal-Teke Stallions?!”
Sure enough, not far in front of Jill, there was a herd of magnificent horses.
Akhal-Teke Stallions—even Elder Vajra, who only cared about martial arts and was a total shut-in, couldn’t help but light up at the name. Truth be told, he was so clueless about their value that he stayed calm. But when his people realized they’d scored over a hundred Akhal-Teke Stallions, they were so happy their grins nearly split their faces.
“Miss, we’ll borrow your horses for now. We’ll talk details later.” Jill, riding the black horse, greeted the princess, who just nodded blankly, not sure if she understood. “Alright, folks—grab a horse and ride home! But you gotta tame your own; I’m not helping if you can’t!”
You got it, boss!
Half an hour later, the thunder of hooves faded away—No One Under Heaven had left the scene.
The old strongman stared at the ruined White Camel Manor, then at the ransacked Vajra Sect and its battered disciples—he was so upset he nearly cried.
“Find me those three troublemakers!” This loss was brutal—really brutal. To think, the whole fight started because those idiots stole a girl’s hair and sold it to me! And damn, they even tried to pass it off as celestial silk!
Getting back at that girl? Fine, I’ll take the loss. But those idiots who made me look like a fool—no way I’m letting them off!
The old strongman was fuming, practically on fire. “Quick, where’d those bastards go? Find them now!”
“Boss, those three ran off as soon as things got dicey!”
“Man, what a rotten day…” Elder Vajra slapped his forehead, and winced from the pain. The footprint wasn’t deep—just a few millimeters. Any deeper and his skull would’ve cracked for real. Even touching it made him shudder. Gotta get some medicine, gotta whip up more Black Jade Bone Renewal Balm—can’t sleep with this injury!
“Boss!” The disciple Jill had stripped earlier came running, tripping over himself, gasping, “The enemy—the enemy—they’re here!”
“Enemy?” Elder Vajra blinked in confusion. Weren’t those women long gone? Why are they back? Then he jumped, eyes wide. “Wait… could it be Vajra Monastery?!”
“Yep!” The disciple looked like he’d lost his whole family. “One’s got a pointy face, one’s fat with big ears, and the last is a sour-faced lama in red—those three showed up! We couldn’t stop them!”
“Great…” Just when you think things can’t get worse, they do. Elder Vajra felt like he’d run out of luck for eight lifetimes. As he panicked, the three lamas barged in. Just as the disciple described, each was a character—floating in, temples bulging, eyes gleaming. Clearly, all three were masters.
Whoosh! The three lamas landed in front of the old strongman, sizing him up. The pointy-faced one spoke: “You’re the Vajra Sect leader?”
“I…” He was a mess—defeated, injured, and out of fight. But the old strongman still didn’t want to run. Bitter and helpless, he finally nodded. “Yeah, I’m Elder Vajra. What do you want?”
“Good, you’re the one. We’re not here to teach you anything—just escorting someone. Found you, job done.” The sour-faced lama pointed at the big-eared monk. “If anyone’s got something to say, it’s him.”
“Someone else?” The old strongman looked at the big-eared monk, who turned around and set down a huge rattan box. He muttered to the box, and someone inside muttered back—a voice that sounded like a little kid.
With a flourish, the box popped open, and to everyone’s surprise, a tiny child crawled out.
The kid was seriously young—maybe three years old. At that age, he’d still be called a ‘baby’ nowadays, all innocence. But when the child in red monk robes looked up at the old strongman, he saw a wisdom way beyond those years.
It was a kind of enlightenment, like seeing through life and death, mixed with a child’s innocence—enough to leave anyone stunned.
The three lamas treated the child with subtle respect, hands pressed together as they spoke in Tibetan. The child replied, and then the three nodded and zipped away with their lightness skill.
Left behind: one old strongman and one tiny child, staring at each other wide-eyed.
“What’s going on here?” The old strongman was totally confused. “And who are you?”
“I’m the heir of Vajra Monastery.” The kid, tiny as he was, spoke clearly—and his Mandarin was flawless. He looked up at the old strongman, eyes level despite the size difference. “I came to ask about the whereabouts of the Dragon Elephant Wisdom Art. The Wise One said I’d find clues here.”
“I—I swear I don’t have it!” A toddler, but backed by the whole Vajra Monastery, all of Esoteric Buddhism, and even Mongolia—the old strongman dared not slack off, but was still about to cry. “I’m no coward, but this really wasn’t me!”
The kid stared with big round eyes, then nodded and smiled. “Okay, I believe you—it wasn’t you.”
“Uh…” Should you call the kid gullible, or just be glad your name’s cleared? With a kid like this, everything seems ridiculous.
“But the Wise One can’t be wrong. Here—can you crouch down?” The old strongman did as asked. The kid stood on tiptoe, stretching to place his hand on the footprint on the old man’s head. The old strongman raised an eyebrow but didn’t move. The kid closed his eyes, concentrating. After a moment, he broke into a big smile. “Yep, found it!”
The old strongman was curious. “Found what?”
“Karma.”