Chapter Nine: Escape

However, things are always changing. Just as Kuangchi and Zixia were making preparations to head for the Imperial Capital, Zixia’s grandfather suddenly summoned her back to inherit a new cultivation technique. Helpless, Zixia had no choice but to return ahead of time to Lopos Star, agreeing to meet Kuangchi again on Karo Star. She even took along all four of Kuangchi's female attendants, saying she would have the elders of Sword Sect teach them martial skills more suitable for women. Kuangchi thought it over and agreed, since most of the Kuang family’s martial arts were designed for men. After all, the family rule of the Kuang Dragon Technique was to pass it on only to males, not females. Besides, the Kuang family truly did lag behind sects like Sword Sect in martial arts. The four sisters were eager to go, so Kuangchi could only nod in consent.

Yet, the real reason for this was clear to any discerning eye.

Left without Zixia—and being someone with little initiative—Kuangchi simply followed his grandfather’s arrangements and set out as soon as possible.

Before his departure, Kuangchi’s grandfather imparted to him the sixth level of the Kuang Dragon Technique, and before Kuangchi boarded the ship, he repeatedly exhorted him not to slacken in his cultivation.

The distance from Kuangzhan Star to Karo Star was still vast; even with this military ship specially assigned to escort Kuangchi, the journey would take at least four months.

After two months of boredom aboard the ship, Kuangchi had long begun to regret letting Zixia go, and agreeing to the departure of the four attendants. Now, he was left with no one to speak to, dulling his days with endless monotony.

But today, as Kuangchi was cultivating in his cabin, he suddenly felt the ship shudder violently. The alarm blared before he could react, and the ship shook several more times. The door to his cabin suddenly slid open, and the captain, his face full of anxiety, burst in with a squad of fully armed soldiers. “Young master, our ship is under attack from an unidentified fleet. Our shields are almost at their limit. Please, you must escape immediately through the escape pod.”

Without waiting for Kuangchi’s response, the captain gestured to the soldiers, who promptly dragged him to a compartment next door. The captain did something at the control panel, and a chair rose up from the floor—clearly tailored to Kuangchi’s physique. The soldiers swiftly strapped him in.

Once Kuangchi was securely fastened, the captain said gravely, “Young master, if you make it safely back to Kuangzhan Star, please look after our families for us. On behalf of all the brothers aboard, I thank you.” With that, he seemed to press something at his neck.

Right after, the entire chair rapidly descended beneath him.

As the chair disappeared into the hull, a soldier next to the captain asked, “Captain, what do we do now? Should we surrender as they demand?”

The captain let out a cold laugh. “Surrender? Do you really think surrender will save us? Don’t forget, soldiers of Kuangzhan Star have never surrendered. All you need to remember is this: as long as the young master survives, our lord will not let our families suffer.”

The soldiers around him all nodded resolutely. The captain shouted, “Initiate Strategy Seven! Let them see what Kuangzhan’s soldiers are made of!”

Kuangchi, meanwhile, was hurtling downwards in the chair into a cramped compartment—the escape pod the captain had mentioned.

Just as he tried to move, the pod jolted, then accelerated swiftly in a certain direction.

Looking around, Kuangchi realized there were no windows—this was a fully sealed escape pod, offering no sense of the outside world.

Before long, his body shook again. Drawing on his training, he quickly surveyed the interior, only to find there were no manual controls. Then it dawned on him: the pod was entirely computer-operated.

As he was inspecting the surroundings, a synthetic voice rang out: “Alert! Escape pod locked onto by enemy ship’s main cannon. Initiating SSS emergency escape protocol.”

At once, Kuangchi was seized by dizziness. The strange energy dormant in his left arm suddenly exploded, surging wildly through his body before rushing straight into the crown of his head. The overwhelming force knocked him unconscious.

Who knows how much time passed. When Kuangchi slowly awoke, he found himself surrounded by dense, gray-black smoke, and a helmet had appeared on his head at some point.

As he regained his senses, he heard a series of knocks echoing from outside the pod.

He tried to contact the main computer, but there was no response—clearly the system had failed. Now, he could only hope the knocks outside would soon open this coffin.

With nothing to do but wait, Kuangchi endured at least three more days in the pod, strapped so tightly to the seat that he could not move an inch. Fortunately, the life support system seemed to be controlled separately and was still functioning; otherwise, he might have become a living casualty trapped in the very escape pod meant to save him.

Over these days, Kuangchi cursed the designer of the pod for not including a manual override, venting his anxiety in the only way he could.

Yet in truth, he was wrong to blame the designer. Without this escape pod, not even ten of him could have survived that main cannon’s blast—it was a miracle he’d gotten out alive.

With a thunderous crash, a hole just large enough for a person appeared before him. A small, wiry figure quickly slipped inside.

But when the newcomer caught sight of Kuangchi’s wide-open eyes, he nearly fainted. As soon as he recovered, he turned to flee, but Kuangchi hurriedly called out, “Senior, please wait!”

The man stopped abruptly, then turned and asked, “Are you human or ghost?”

Kuangchi answered irritably, “Of course I’m human—do I look like a ghost?”

The figure ran over and squatted beside him, and Kuangchi got a clear look at his extraordinarily ordinary face—utterly unremarkable except perhaps for its thinness.

After scrutinizing Kuangchi for a while, the man asked, “Who are you?”

Kuangchi gave a wry smile. “Just someone trying to survive. Quick, help me out of here.”

The man quickly dragged a small computer terminal from outside the hole, and after two days of work, managed to use it to replace the original main computer and release Kuangchi from the seat.

Once freed, Kuangchi let out several hearty laughs. “Old Ghost, I didn’t expect you to really pull it off!”

The thin man, called Old Ghost by Kuangchi, replied with self-satisfaction, “Of course! How do you think I got my name as the Demon Thief? This was nothing—if it were a whole warship, I could still take control.”

Kuangchi couldn’t help but retort, “Yeah, right. Who was it who said it’d just take a few minutes two days ago?”

A flush crept onto the man’s face. He grumbled, “That’s because your escape pod is so damned sturdy. It took me nearly a month just to break in! What alloy is this thing made of? If all transport ships were built like this, I’d starve to death before breaking in!”