Strongest Scammer: Scamming The World, One Death At A Time

Han Yu sat silently beneath the swaying branches, his eyes half-closed but his spiritual sense fully alert.

From a distance, the raging battle still echoed like thunderclaps across the darkened valley. Explosions of sword light lit up the horizon in intermittent flashes. The distant clash of Skills and techniques between Sword Peak Head Jian Wuhen and the blood-robed invaders still stirred the hearts of disciples—but Han Yu's gaze wasn't out there anymore.

It was here. In the camp. Among them.

He had seen the sliver of red Eight emotions energy earlier, just one thread of wrath slipping out from the veil of false calm. That was all the proof he needed. Someone among them was no disciple of the Twin Leaf Peak Sect.

And now, with his senses sharpened and his awareness honed to a razor's edge, Han Yu began watching with new eyes.

He didn't look directly. He didn't stare. That would only alert the enemy. Instead, he let his gaze drift lazily over the bustling camp, taking in everything without focus—one of the tricks he'd developed when learning to identify ripples for his Eight Emotions cultivation.

He noticed little things.

A person shifting slightly every time a sound came from the battlefield.

A figure walking past the same tents, again and again, not speaking to anyone.

Another disciple who seemed oddly uninterested in the outcome of the battle—off by themselves, not gossiping, not worrying, just… waiting.

Too calm.

But Han Yu didn't act. Not yet.

Now that he knew for certain someone was hiding here, pretending to be one of them, he couldn't risk spooking them. Not when they might reveal more.

Because deep down, Han Yu had the nagging feeling that there was more to this entire situation.

The fight happening a kilometer away? That didn't sit right with him.

He knew who had gone to meet the enemy—Sword Peak Head Jian Wuhen, a man who stood proudly at the Dao Treading realm. Among the sect's senior generation, he was a known monster, capable of cutting down entire squads of cultivators with a single sword swing.

He'd even heard that Jian Wuhen had once taken on a mutated wyvern in the Great Northern Barrens and won without taking a single step back.

And the ones fighting alongside him were no slouches either—core disciples at the peak of Core Condensation, and some even early Nascent Soul realm experts.

So how were only three blood sect members holding them off? He was sure they wouldn't all be at the Dao Treading realm, not with the known strength of the sect. At most they'd have one such expert and they won't come here.

Unless—

Han Yu's eyes narrowed.

'He's holding back.'

Yes, that made more sense. Jian Wuhen wasn't using his full strength. That meant this battle wasn't just a battle.

It was bait.

Han Yu recalled the moment they'd left the sect. Though it had appeared like a grand departure, with banners, formations, and an orderly march of disciples, Chitterfang had sensed hidden experts. The presence of two other powerful entities who had never shown themselves directly: the Beast Peak Head and the Spear Peak Head.

He had seen them lurking on the edge of perception, their auras tightly concealed, following from the shadows.

This battle… this entire encounter—it had all been predicted.

The Shattered Blood Vessel Sect hadn't taken the Twin Leaf Peak Sect by surprise.

'They had walked right into a trap.'

Han Yu's thoughts were interrupted by a flicker of movement.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a cloaked figure break away from the shadows between two tents. They moved low and fast, heading toward the supply carts, where tightly packed crates of food, weapons, and medicinal herbs were stored.

Han Yu's blood ran cold.

'They're going to burn the supplies!'

If the camp's provisions were destroyed, the outer court disciples would be left without resources, creating chaos and confusion—just what the attackers needed.

Han Yu was just about to leap up and intercept the saboteur when—

Fwoooosh!

A silver light cut through the air with impossible speed.

Thud.

A spear as long as a man's height pierced the saboteur clean through the chest, pinning him to the ground like a skewered insect. Blood exploded from the impact, and the cloaked figure gave a gurgling cry, limbs twitching once… and then going still.

Gasps erupted from the surrounding disciples. Dozens turned to the source of the spear, weapons raised in alarm—until they saw the figure descending from the sky.

Draped in robes trimmed with stormcloud silver and deep ocean blue, his face expressionless and proud, the man landed with the grace of a falling leaf.

Spear Peak Head Fang Tian.

His eyes swept over the camp, sharp as a hawk's.

"There was a spy among you," he said coolly. "He is no longer."

The disciples broke into startled murmurs, whispering Fang Tian's name in reverence. Many had never seen the Spear Peak Head before, having only heard tales of his brutal efficiency and battlefield supremacy.

Han Yu remained seated, his heart thundering in his chest.

'So it's true… The sect planned for this. They expected the Shattered Blood Vessel Sect to strike, even predicted infiltration.'

And now…

They were cleaning house.

The spy's disguise flickered and failed, revealing tattered blood-red robes beneath the illusion. Even in death, the markings of the Shattered Blood Vessel Sect stood out—twisted broken bottle symbols etched with broken veins.

Wu Shuan stepped beside Han Yu, pale with shock. "That was right here… He was right here, and we didn't even notice."

Han Yu exhaled slowly. "He wasn't the only one who didn't notice. But someone did."

He looked up toward where Fang Tian now stood, collecting his spear with a single fluid motion. Then he turned toward the distant battlefield.

The trap had been sprung.

But Han Yu couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.

Because if the Shattered Blood Vessel Sect was willing to send spies, risk elites, and attack within sect territory…

Then someone had given them reason to believe it was worth the risk.