This was practically a dead knot that could not be unraveled. Xia Fei was not a member of the Assassin Sect, yet he had mastered Breath Control and Sly Thrust, two ultimate techniques unique to the Assassins. Sly Thrust, in particular, could only be learned by disciples who had worked hard for many years in the Assassin Sect. There was no reason for Xia Fei to have mastered such a high-level technique.
Xia Fei had a deep understanding of Crafty Thrust and Breath Control, and he was very familiar with how to use them. It was obvious that this was the result of years of practice. The Assassin Sect had always been very strict. Anyone who entered the sect could not leave unless they died, or else they would have to serve the sect for the rest of their lives.
From this point alone, it could be ruled out that Xia Fei's techniques were secretly taught by someone in the sect. Someone else must have taught Breath Control and Crafty Thrust to Xia Fei.
This made the situation rather serious. It was the first time in the history of the Assassin Sect that the top techniques of the sect had been leaked.
No one suspected Phantoms, for everyone knew that he was already dead. Even more so, no one would have thought that even though Phantoms was dead, he had turned into an immortal soul and even passed on his martial technique to Xia Fei.
Everyone frowned. Craneshadow, who was sitting at the head of the table, rubbed his temples with his fingers. He could not figure out what was going on.
"Someone, bring Xia Fei to his place to rest. We'll talk about this later," Craneshadow ordered.
Soon, the group of Deathguards brought Xia Fei to a remote room on the tenth floor. Only Craneshadow and his three disciples were left in the hall.
"Great ancestor, what do you think we should do about this?" Silvershadow asked.
Craneshadow pondered for a moment. "I suddenly thought of something. Let's talk about it after I go back. Let Xia Fei stay here for now. Don't make things difficult for him."
Craneshadow stood up and left. Silvershadow and the other two sent the great ancestor off before returning to their own residences.
Craneshadow walked up the stairs. He was already close to the peak. The air was cold, and the stone path was covered in white snow and ice. Compared to the warmth at the foot of the mountain, this place was more like a harsh winter.
In truth, living on the top of a mountain was a very painful thing. Not only was the air cold, the roads were also very difficult to traverse. The founder of the Assassin Sect actually had a deeper meaning when he decided that the members of the sect would be allocated according to seniority. He wanted to remind those in power not to be greedy for pleasure and to remember that the greater their power, the greater their responsibilities.
Although Craneshadow was old, his legs were very agile, and he did not lose to the young people in his sect. The snow-covered road was nothing to him.
The eleventh and twelfth floors were unoccupied. They were used to store some ancient books and precious items from the sect. Craneshadow did not stop and continued to the thirteenth floor.
If the eleventh and twelfth floors were considered forbidden grounds within the sect due to the many precious ancient texts stored within, then the thirteenth floor where Craneshadow resided was a super forbidden ground for the Assassin Sect. The disciples of the sect would have the opportunity to enter and study there every month with the token on their waist, while the thirteenth floor was a place where even Umbra and Moonshadow were not allowed to enter without permission, for the most important secrets of the Assassin Sect were stored there.
Craneshadow sighed as he stood on the thirteenth floor. He looked down at the lush forest and the clear river, taking in the entire continent.
White snowflakes were drifting in the sky. The snow was not heavy, but it never stopped. Every time Craneshadow exhaled, the water vapor would turn into ice shards and slowly fall to the ground. The temperature was fifty degrees below zero.
In fact, the thirteenth floor was about five kilometers away from the true peak of the mountain. It was only the last floor of the mountain. There was a winding stone path further up, but since no one was cleaning it, the path had long been submerged in the snow. Those who were not familiar with the path would not have noticed it at all.
As for what was at the peak of the mountain, only the sect master of the Assassin Sect knew. There had been no exception for many years.
Craneshadow walked on the snow to the left, leaning on the railing to look at the scenery in the distance as he walked.
After walking for about a kilometer, Craneshadow came to a small courtyard. He entered the courtyard through the stone archway covered in snow, only to see that the ground had long been swept clean. It snowed all year round here, and to keep the ground so clean and tidy would require constant cleaning. It was obvious that someone had been taking care of this courtyard.
A bald old man was sweeping the snow in the courtyard with an old-fashioned broom in his hand. His movements were very strange. He first stretched out his right leg when he walked, then used the broom to support his body as he stretched out his other leg with great difficulty.
It was hard to imagine that this man had managed to keep the courtyard so clean and tidy with his handicapped body. There was not a single piece of snow on the ground, and even the doors and windows were as clean as new. There was not even a single ice shard on the roof beams.
With the advancement of technology, there were many ways to clear the snow. Be it a hot air blower or an automatic snowplow, they were all much better than something as ancient as a broom. However, this old man still chose such a clumsy and inefficient tool, patiently and calmly doing his job.
Craneshadow tiptoed to the back of the bald old man and bowed. He lowered his voice and said, "Senior Brother Shadowless, Craneshadow has something that I need to inquire about in the Pantheon Pavilion. I wonder if senior brother has the time?"
Senior brother?
Craneshadow was three generations older than Darkshadow and the others, and he was the sect master of the Assassin Sect. Everyone in the sect had always thought that he was the most senior in the sect. No one could have imagined that there would be a senior brother of Craneshadow in this inconspicuous courtyard on the top of the mountain.
Since he was a senior brother, according to the rules of the Assassin Sect, the elder should have been the successor of the sect master. Why was the sect master Craneshadow, and why was the older Shadowless willing to clean this mysterious courtyard?
The old man who was called Shadowless shifted his strange steps and turned around to look at Craneshadow. His eyes were white and dull, making it obvious that this old man was blind as well.
How did a blind and crippled old man clean this courtyard? If he could not see, how did he manage to clean every single detail of the place so neatly? It was truly an unimaginable matter.
Shadowless was only wearing a thin shirt in such cold weather. His bald head was not covered at all, allowing the snowflakes to fall on it.
"May I know what information the sect master is looking for?" Shadowless returned the greeting and spoke with his old voice.
"Senior brother, I would like to check on those who have practiced Breath Control and Crafty Thrust over the years and left the Assassin Sect without permission," Craneshadow said.
Shadowless nodded. "Oh, I see. Come with me."
Putting away his broom, Shadowless led Craneshadow and limped to an inconspicuous red alloy door on the left side of the courtyard.
There was no lock on the door. Shadowless pushed it open and stood to the side. "There are three people who fit the criteria the sect master mentioned. Their information is 1-506, 4-237, and 5-112."
Shadowless reported the three numbers as easily as if he was reporting his ID number. A blind man actually knew all this information like the back of his hand. Since ancient times, there had been tens of thousands of people who had joined the Assassin Sect. What kind of memory would it take to memorize everyone's information? Just reading through all this information would take decades, not to mention memorizing it.
"Thank you, senior brother." Craneshadow thanked him and walked into the room. Shadowless quietly closed the door and returned to the courtyard to continue cleaning the floor slowly and clumsily.
The room was dark. Craneshadow turned on the lights, and rows of wooden shelves appeared before him.
Since there was no heater, the temperature in the room was even colder than outside. This was a rule set by the founder of the Assassin Sect. Not only did those who held high positions in the sect not have the right to enjoy heating and air-conditioning, they even had to eat a lighter diet, living like the monks in the legends.
Craneshadow had lived for hundreds of years, and his cultivation was unfathomable. The cold did not bother him at all, and normal people might not even be able to survive here.
The records on the shelves had yellowed due to the passage of time, but they were not damaged at all, showing that Shadowless had taken good care of them.
Craneshadow followed Shadowless's instructions and found three documents on the shelves. The information of every disciple in the history of the Assassin Sect was kept here, be it the previous sect master or a mere chef. Regardless of their status, everything was arranged according to the time of their death or disappearance.
There was a narrow desk in the room, and there was a small fluorescent lamp on it for the convenience of reading. No one had the right to take the information out of the room, and they could only search it within the room.
Craneshadow pulled a chair over and placed the three huge documents on the desk before he opened them and read them carefully.
Each document did not only contain information on one person, but also hundreds of disciples. It would take some time to find the person that he needed.
The rules of the Assassin Sect were very strict, and they were located in a remote area, lacking the bustle and bustle of the world of entertainment. Thus, it was not uncommon for those who could not stand the loneliness and would take the opportunity to escape while they were out on a mission. After all, not everyone could endure such a dull life.
However, it was rare for the disciples to escape. Once they were discovered, a large number of Deathguards would immediately search for them and kill them if they were caught. Anyone who wanted to escape would have to weigh the risks they had to bear, and they would need to be courageous enough to do so.
Over the years, there were a few people who managed to escape and lived in seclusion in some corner of the universe. Craneshadow suddenly thought that Xia Fei might be a descendant of someone who had escaped the Assassin Sect, so he went to the archives to look for him.
He decided to target the escapees who had practiced Crafty Thrust and Breath Control. If Xia Fei was just a descendant of an ordinary disciple, there was no way he could have mastered such advanced techniques.
Soon, Craneshadow pulled out three thin sheets of paper from the files and laid them out side by side. The three of them had run away from their masters many years ago. They had decent cultivation and were proficient in Crafty Thrust and Breath Control.
Craneshadow's eyes suddenly lit up, and a playful smile appeared on his face.
He picked up one of the papers and looked at it. Apart from the dense text on it, there was also a picture of a middle-aged man. He had black eyes, black hair, and yellow skin. He looked similar to Xia Fei.
According to the information, this person was called Bloodshadow. He was once the eldest disciple of the eleventh level of the Assassin Sect, and he was very likely to be the next sect master. About three thousand years ago, he escaped from the sect while on a mission, and there was no news of him since then.
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