As he spoke, Edward Grant also untied a horse and rode off in the opposite direction.

The innkeeper looked at the blood all over the ground and let out a long sigh: “What a sin.”

However, weighing the silver in his hand—no less than fifty taels, enough for him to open a shop elsewhere—this gave him some comfort.

Chapter 7: The Sky Is High, Birds Fly Free

The capital of Great Qian, the Marquis of Loyalty and Courage’s residence.

Three household servants stood before The Bolton Family with ashamed faces, recounting everything that had happened.

Of course, they concealed the fact that they had been tricked by Edward Grant in the end, and only realized it was a riderless horse after catching up.

After hearing all this, The Bolton Family did not scold them; she just felt a chill run through her body.

That little brat... Edward Grant, when did he become so formidable? When did he become a cultivator?

Most importantly, how could she not have known any of this!

Thinking back to when, inside the residence, Edward Grant would always greet her with an innocent, cheerful smile, respectfully calling her “aunt” every time they met—had he already known what she was up to back then, but just kept enduring it all along?

“Letting the tiger return to the mountain.”

The Bolton Family let out a long sigh.

Within the Marquis’s residence, she was the principal lady, second only to Old Madam Grant, and sometimes her words carried even more weight than Old Madam Grant’s.

But her influence, even counting her own family’s side, could not reach as far as Donglin Commandery.

…

On the rugged mountain path, Edward Grant carefully distinguished traces left by people passing through, groping his way forward.

He was lost.

After escaping from the inn, pressed for time and wounded, Edward Grant had no time to think—he simply chose a direction opposite to the three servants and sped away, only to end up in the mountains, completely losing his way.

His horse had broken its leg after stepping into a hole, so Edward Grant could only rely on himself to find a way out of the forest.

After killing Richard Foster and Samuel Wright, Edward Grant had gained quite a bit.

Besides some loose silver, each of them carried a banknote worth a thousand taels. Edward Grant guessed this must have been the price on his head—which was indeed quite high.

His second uncle, a deputy general, only earned five hundred taels a year, and ordinary soldiers’ annual pay and rewards combined didn’t exceed ten taels.

Of course, the Marquis’s residence also had some businesses and didn’t rely solely on military pay, but almost all of these were controlled by The Bolton Family.

Richard Foster’s longsword was taken by Edward Grant, and he even found a martial manual on him—more precisely, a sword technique called the “Breaking Technique Sword,” which delighted Edward Grant.

Iron Eagle had given him the Martial Essentials, but that was just for building a foundation and didn’t contain any actual combat techniques.

The Breaking Technique Sword, on the other hand, was an extremely exquisite sword art. Though it appeared simple in execution, it was subtle and profound, able to counter various martial techniques and adapt freely.

The essence of the Breaking Technique Sword lay in the word “breaking.” The manual was quite thick, recording a host of countermeasures against different styles of swordsmanship, saber techniques, fist arts, and even some mysterious Daoist arts.

By summarizing and compiling these countermeasures, one could use the least amount of force to exert the greatest effect against the enemy, discarding flashy moves and returning to simplicity.

During this time, Edward Grant had been studying and practicing the Breaking Technique Sword, cultivating as he traveled.

After all, he was now as free as a bird in the sky or a fish in the sea, with no immediate threats, and his mood had lightened considerably.

From Samuel Wright, Edward Grant didn’t find any martial manuals, only a few bottles of pills—black, foul-smelling, and nameless, which Edward Grant dared not use recklessly.

Perhaps that sinister black zombie arm was the result of his cultivation, his greatest trump card.

That thing was now in Edward Grant’s black jade space, and Edward Grant discovered that he could summon the black zombie arm just like he did with the heart ghost.

However, the black zombie arm wasn’t summoned separately; instead, it instantly replaced his own arm. The first time he used it, it gave Edward Grant quite a scare.

But the energy consumption was even greater than that of the heart ghost. After just a couple of punches, Edward Grant felt his mental strength draining away like running water.

Moreover, after absorbing the black zombie arm, Edward Grant noticed a troubling change in the black jade space.

It was full.

Although it looked pitch-black and boundless inside, when Edward Grant entered the black jade space again, he felt a strange sense of fullness.

It was a kind of feedback from the space itself, clearly indicating that it could only hold the heart ghost and the black zombie arm. Any further absorption might cause it to burst.

This discovery made Edward Grant’s heart sink.

The black jade space was his trump card, and his escape from pursuit this time was thanks to it.

But there was no manual for this thing, and Edward Grant had no idea how to use it properly. If it was already full after just absorbing these two entities, he would be at a great loss.

Although the heart ghost and black zombie arm were useful to Edward Grant now, what about in the future?

If there was no way to sever the connection between the two entities and the black jade space, this trump card might become completely useless to Edward Grant down the line.

Edward Grant didn’t dwell on such vexing matters—he could only take things one step at a time.