Chapter 21: Tempest in the Valley of Death

Wiro only felt the rush of wind coming from behind. Instinctively, he stepped forward, twisted to the side, and ducked! The long machete of Bergola Wungu whooshed just a span and a half above his head, sending his shaggy hair flying!

“Coward! Attacking from behind in a group ambush!” Wiro Sableng roared.

Both of his hands darted forward to seize the enemy’s weapon. But just as he was about to grab the machete, a dozen staff tips whooshed in, targeting both of his arms.

“Damn!” cursed the 212 Warrior, forced to pull back and swing a low kick toward several attackers coming from the front.

Strangely, those facing his kick didn’t block or evade. Instead, others from the second line burst forward to deflect Wiro’s kick. In the next instant, the front formation lunged again—twelve blue staffs striking at twelve vital points on Wiro Sableng’s body!

From above, like a swooping hawk, Bergola Wungu’s machete slashed down once more! This was the terrifying formation of Tide Circle Formation! A creation of Bladra Wikuyana, Whirlwind of the West! He had spent two years drilling this maneuver into his students. Though not yet perfected, the results were formidable!

Smiling in satisfaction, Bladra Wikuyana watched, anticipating the moment when Wiro’s body would be torn apart by his disciples’ blades and his ears would echo with the young man’s death cry. Yet, no blood splattered. No scream of death came from the center of the rocky field.

In a blink, Wiro Sableng had vanished from the deadly circle. He now stood outside the formation, calm and whistling once more. His sharp eyes had already seen the flaw in the Tide Circle Formation: disrupt two or three people in one part of the ring, and the whole pattern would collapse.

He could’ve wiped them out with his Whirlwind Palm or Stacked Gale Strike, but he chose another method. Raising his voice, Wiro shouted,

“Whirlwind of the west! Ever seen someone turned into a weapon to defeat others?!”

“Mad brat! Enough nonsense! Your life ends in three moves! Contract the inner circle by one-third of a stance!” barked Bladra Wikuyana in fury.

Wiro’s whistle stopped, replaced by a chilling, bizarre laugh that raised the hairs on everyone’s necks. His body vanished in a blur. Suddenly, Bergola Wungu felt his ankles gripped tightly! He tried to break free, but the grip was like iron. His body lifted off the ground, and as he attempted to swing his blade, there came a scream—one of his own allies, struck and collapsing in blood!

Then Bergola Wungu knew no more.

Wiro Sableng spun him like a human windmill, hurling him in wide arcs. Cries and gasps erupted all around. The Tide Circle Formation fell apart in chaos. Those who didn’t move fast enough were slammed by Bergola Wungu’s flailing body! A dozen of Sanggreng Cave’s disciples lay strewn across the rocky floor, bloodied and lifeless.

Moans echoed. The nine survivors scrambled back to the cliff walls in horror. Wiro Sableng’s eerie laughter ceased.

“Whirlwind of the west! Take your disciple’s corpse!”

Wiro flung Bergola Wungu’s body toward Bladra Wikuyana. The old master flicked his left hand and knocked the corpse aside. It slammed into a cliff wall. Lifeless for sure—his head long turned to mush like a rotting papaya. The stench of blood clung thick in the air.

Wiro spat on the ground and faced his foe.

“Whirlwind of the west! Your students died in a way you surely didn’t wish. But their deaths have nothing to do with me. You’re the one who should answer to the Reaper when he visits their graves!”

“Shitty brat!” snapped Bladra Wikuyana. “No more chatter! Die within three moves!”

His face hardened like iron, growing darker and more fearsome. He stepped forward lightly and unsheathed his blue staff. In a blur, a blue arc slashed toward Wiro. The youth dodged sideways, but from the side came the old man’s right hand—ending in a wooden arm tipped with a curved sickle!

“Heyyaaah!”

Wiro shouted. The canyon echoed. He vanished, dropped to a crouch, and struck with his Monkey Throws Fruit technique! But Bladra’s blue staff was fierce. Though Wiro used internal force in his palm strike, the staff’s gust scattered the energy aside, smashing the cliff wall instead! The rocks cracked and exploded, sending debris flying!

Wiro gritted his teeth. He had doubled his inner strength, his arms shaking, but even that couldn’t match the blue staff’s wind!

“Insane!” he cursed inwardly. Screaming, he charged again and unleashed Madman Swats the Fly! Both hands swiped wildly, producing wind gusts like a typhoon!

For two full moves, Bladra was driven back, pressed to the eastern cliff wall. His students had to retreat or be swept away by the clashing forces.

Inwardly, Bladra groaned. Decades in the martial world and now he faced such a formidable opponent. Worse yet, this was a greenhorn not yet eighteen!

He clenched his jaws. A sharp whistle escaped his throat. Instantly, his fighting style changed. The blue staff in his left hand roared and multiplied like a torrential downpour!

Wiro was stunned by the onslaught. He leapt three fathoms into the air.

“Trying to run, eh?!” bellowed Bladra and gave chase.

“Western Tempest! We don’t really have any deep grudge…”

Bladra sneered. “When death’s at your throat, then you speak of peace? Pray to your gods! Soon the so-called Fire Dragon Axe Warrior 212 will rot in hell!”

He attacked fiercely. Wiro had to leap back again.

“If you insist, old man, then take this!”

Bladra’s eyes bulged as he saw Wiro’s right hand turn gleaming white, his fingernails glowing red!

“Sunlight Strike!” he cried, warning his disciples to flee while channeling all his internal energy into his staff.

A blinding white ray shot forth. Bladra jumped seven fathoms high, sweeping his staff downward! The two forces clashed!

Bladra groaned. His staff nearly flew from his grip, and his left hand quivered violently! He hadn’t imagined that the youth’s internal force surpassed his own by several levels!

He flipped midair and retreated to regain his breath. Looking around, he was shocked: every remaining disciple lay sprawled on the rocky floor.

Smoke rose from their bodies. The canyon reeked of burnt flesh! Wiro’s Sunlight Strike had missed Bladra but struck the southeastern cliff wall. Not only did it shatter the rock, it rebounded twice, sweeping through the survivors. Scorched and lifeless, they fell where they stood.

Unseen to them, atop the canyon rim, a purple-robed figure watched with gaping mouth, eyes wide, and goosebumps crawling across their skin…

Back in the canyon—

Bladra Wikuyana stood frozen. His face was cold and hard. His beard bristled, and his eyes glowed crimson.

“Warrior 212,” he hissed. “Don’t hope to leave here alive…!”

His blackened staff stretched straight toward Wiro. A terrifying dark aura radiated from it.

“Prepare for hell!”

With that, Bladra surged forward. All his energy flowed into the staff. His attack was monstrous, and his strange whistling sounds made the very air vibrate!

Wiro instantly felt the deadly pressure and sped up his movements. But even with his high-level body-lightening technique, he felt sluggish against the crushing force of the Black Wind Staff!

“Breeettt…!”

Blood surged in Wiro’s chest. He felt his life slip! The staff tip tore through his robe at the chest. The wind from the blow pressed into his ribs!

With a loud cry, he flipped backward, fleeing the deadly battle zone!