Chapter 15: Echoes of the Past

The forest grew thicker as Lin Yun continued his journey, the towering trees casting long shadows over the narrow path. The air was damp, and the occasional rustle of leaves reminded him he wasn't alone. Despite his calm demeanor, his mind replayed the encounter with the bandits. It was the first time he'd put his training to practical use, and while he had succeeded, doubts lingered.

Could he truly maintain balance in a world that often demanded ruthlessness?

His hand rested on the hilt of the dagger gifted to him by the hermit. Its weight felt reassuring, but he couldn't help but wonder if he was worthy of wielding such a weapon. The hermit's words echoed in his mind: *A weapon is not just a tool—it's a reflection of its wielder.*

As Lin Yun walked, he caught sight of a clearing ahead. His sharp instincts told him something was off. The air was still, too still, as if the forest itself held its breath. He crouched low, his eyes scanning the area.

At the center of the clearing stood a broken-down wooden cart. Scattered around it were crates, torn sacks, and the unmistakable glint of spilled coins. Lin Yun's gaze hardened. It was a site of conflict, the aftermath of a violent struggle.

Cautiously, he approached. The smell of blood lingered faintly in the air, though no bodies were visible. His eyes narrowed as he examined the scene. Footprints in the dirt told a story of a scuffle. Whoever had been here was either taken or had fled.

Then, he heard it—a faint groan coming from behind the cart. Lin Yun tensed, hand on his dagger, as he moved to investigate.

A young man, no older than Lin Yun's previous self on Earth, lay slumped against the cart. His clothes were torn, blood seeping from a deep gash on his arm. His eyes fluttered open weakly as Lin Yun approached.

"Help…" the man croaked.

Lin Yun knelt beside him, quickly assessing the injury. The wound was serious but not fatal if treated quickly. He tore a strip of cloth from his sleeve and wrapped it tightly around the man's arm to stem the bleeding.

"What happened here?" Lin Yun asked, his voice calm but firm.

The man winced, his breathing labored. "Bandits… they attacked us… took the goods… my sister…"

Lin Yun's eyes darkened. "Your sister? Where is she?"

"They… took her…" the man whispered. "To the… Black Fang Hideout… northwest… please… save her…"

Lin Yun's jaw tightened. He didn't need to ask why the man couldn't go himself—his injuries and exhaustion were answer enough. But the thought of an innocent girl in the hands of bandits stirred something deep within him.

"Rest here," Lin Yun said, standing up. "I'll get her back."

The man's eyes widened in disbelief. "You… you'll go alone? The Black Fang… they're ruthless… their leader… he's a monster…"

Lin Yun's expression remained steady. "Ruthless or not, they can bleed like anyone else. I'll handle it."

The man's gratitude was evident, but Lin Yun didn't linger to accept thanks. He turned and set off in the direction the man had indicated, his steps purposeful and his mind focused.

**The Black Fang Hideout**

Night had fallen by the time Lin Yun reached the outskirts of the Black Fang Hideout. The structure was crude, a collection of makeshift huts and tents hidden deep within the forest. Torches flickered in the darkness, illuminating the rough figures of bandits standing guard.

Lin Yun studied the hideout from the shadows, counting the guards and observing their patterns. There were at least a dozen visible, but he knew there would be more inside. His mind worked quickly, formulating a plan.

Rushing in recklessly would be suicide, but a direct confrontation wasn't his style. The hermit's teachings came back to him—*Strength is not just in the body; it's in the mind.*

Silently, Lin Yun moved through the shadows, his movements fluid and deliberate. He approached the nearest guard, a burly man leaning against a tree, clearly bored. With a swift motion, Lin Yun struck a pressure point on the man's neck, rendering him unconscious before he could make a sound.

One down.

He continued his silent assault, taking out guards one by one. His movements were precise, each strike calculated to incapacitate without unnecessary harm. By the time he reached the main tent, the outer guards had all been neutralized.

Inside the tent, Lin Yun found the leader of the Black Fang—a towering man with a cruel scar running down his face. The girl, her wrists bound, was huddled in the corner, fear etched into her features.

The leader looked up, his expression twisting into a sneer. "Who are you supposed to be? Another fool come to play hero?"

Lin Yun stepped forward, his dagger gleaming in the torchlight. "Release the girl. Now."

The leader laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "You've got guts, kid. But guts won't save you."

With a roar, the leader lunged at Lin Yun, his massive sword swinging in a deadly arc. Lin Yun sidestepped the attack with ease, his movements smooth and controlled. The leader's strikes were powerful but wild, driven by brute strength rather than skill.

Lin Yun waited for an opening, his dagger ready. When the leader overextended on a swing, Lin Yun moved in, his blade slicing across the man's arm. The leader howled in pain, his grip on the sword faltering.

"You fight with strength but no discipline," Lin Yun said coldly. "That's why you've already lost."

The leader's rage blinded him, and he charged again. This time, Lin Yun ended it swiftly, striking a nerve in the man's neck and sending him crashing to the ground, unconscious.

Lin Yun turned to the girl, cutting her bindings with a quick motion. "You're safe now," he said, his voice gentle.

The girl nodded, tears streaming down her face. "Thank you…"

Lin Yun escorted her out of the hideout, his steps light but his mind heavy. The fight had been won, but it was only a small victory in a world filled with injustice.

As they returned to the injured man, Lin Yun couldn't help but reflect on the hermit's words. Power wasn't just about fighting—it was about making choices, about using strength to protect those who couldn't protect themselves.

And as Lin Yun looked at the siblings reunited, he knew that this was the kind of martial artist he wanted to be.