A flood dragon's roar echoed!
Hundreds of Raging Sea disciples were startled, pouring out of their tents in an endless stream and gathering toward the stockade walls.
The sounds of rushing footsteps, hushed whispers, and swords unsheathing intertwined as the light from the torches illuminated the stockade, making it as bright as day.
Atop the stockade wall.
Staring at the black-scaled flood dragon baring its fangs and claws with fierce malice in its eyes, Pei Heng shook violently, his eyes filled with sheer horror as he cried out, “What is that?!”
Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh!
Three figures descended, their robes rustling sharply through the air.
An old voice spoke, filled with a touch of emotion and nostalgia: “It's Dong Daosheng's spiritual treasure, the 『Black Flood Dragon Carriage』...”
“That old thief has been dead for years. I never expected to see this treasure again!”
Pei Heng looked over at the sound, his heart tightening.
Two men and one woman, three figures dressed in purple robes, hovered in the air. Brilliant white Gangjin radiated around them like a halo of stardust.
They were none other than the three Gangjin Rank elders of the Raging Sea Sect!
Inner Gang Rank, Pei Zu!
Outer Gang Rank, Pei Hong!
Outer Gang Rank, Ding Yihe!
Pei Heng, Zheng Tianwu, and Pei Xiyue did not dare to show any disrespect. They bowed in unison and greeted, “Greetings, Elders!”
“Rise.”
Pei Hong appeared to be around forty years old, dressed in formal palace robes. Her posture was elegant and luxurious, resembling a beautiful imperial consort.
Her beautiful eyes narrowed slightly as she stared at the dense crowd of figures leaping down from the carriage and landing on the lake shore. She sneered, “The Zhenhai Marquis Mansion, the Star-Plucking Sect, Mount Bixia, and earlier, the Qingyuan Sword Pavilion...”
“Heh, quite a crowd has gathered!”
“It seems... the Four Sects of Nanxiang have indeed been coveting our Sea-Overturning legacy's Blessed Land for a long time.”
The other elder, Ding Yihe, let out a disdainful snort, his eyes sweeping over the opposite shore with condescension. “So what if many of them have come? The Raging Sea Sect is determined to claim the Diaohai Blessed Land!”
At this moment, the old voice that had spoken first sounded again: “Enough.”
Pei Zu's tone was indifferent.
As the highly respected Second Elder of the Raging Sea Sect, his words naturally carried an unquestionable authority.
He calmly glanced at the Black Flood Dragon Carriage on the opposite shore, his face betraying no emotion. “These Nanxiang people chose to appear precisely on the day the Blessed Land is about to open. They have clearly discovered the opening time beforehand.”
“For now, let us not cause unnecessary complications by entangling ourselves with them.”
He lowered his eyes.
His gaze fell upon Pei Heng, and he said softly, “Pei Heng.”
“Your disciple is here!”
Pei Heng quickly cupped his hands in response.
“Lead the disciples back to their tents to rest. The Daoist Master has already calculated that the Blessed Land will open tonight at the third quarter of the hour of Zi. All of you must rest and build up your strength. Once we enter the Blessed Land, it will be up to each of you to rely on your own abilities.”
Pei Heng took a deep breath, suppressing the shock and excitement in his heart, and said in a deep voice, “This disciple understands!”
...
“Whoa!”
“The local powerhouses have arrived. Now the real show begins.”
To the northeast.
The shallows.
On a rocky, rugged clearing, two figures sat around a campfire.
A large monk with an open chest and six ordination scars on his head was obediently roasting two Precious Fish, his mouth watering with greed. His body radiated a malevolent aura that soared to the heavens.
This large monk was none other than the former second chief of Chenjian Dock!
The Blood Dhuta!
Following the death of Duan Xiao, this blood-stained, wicked monk had vanished that very night.
Now,
he had appeared once more.
His aura was majestic and condensed; he had quietly broken through the Huajin Rank barrier!
And sitting opposite him was none other than the old monk, Shouchong.
“Three... five... seven! A total of seven Gangjin Rank experts! What an impressive lineup!”
“Oh? The old swordsman has arrived?”
“Aha, and the young swordsman has come too!”
“Things are getting lively now!”
The old monk took the roasted fish handed to him by the Blood Dhuta, eating heartily as he squinted at the opposite shore. Then, raising his hand to point toward the far side, he suddenly said, “Kuzui.”
The Blood Dhuta was just about to eat his own roasted fish.
Upon hearing the old monk call his Buddhist name, he quickly set the fish aside, prostrated himself, and said respectfully, “What are Master's instructions?”
Shouchong chewed on the fish, his voice muffled. “Do you see that kid on the opposite shore?”
The Blood Dhuta followed his gaze, searching for a moment before his eyes locked onto a tall, upright figure in blue. He muttered, “Does Master mean... that exceptionally handsome youth?”
“Indeed.”
Shouchong calmly set down his finished fish bones, picked up the other roasted fish, and smiled. “If you can bring this youth into our Buddhist sect for me during this trip to the Blessed Land, I will bestow a grand opportunity upon you.”
“Oh?!”
The Blood Dhuta's large, copper-bell eyes instantly lit up. He lowered his body even further and said eagerly, “Please enlighten me, Master!”
Shouchong gave a mysterious smile.
Within his seemingly cloudy, old eyes, an indescribable gleam suddenly flashed.
As his lips parted and closed, a mysterious, profound intent seemed to envelop the Blood Dhuta. “Although you carry heavy bloodlust and are a sinner, you are a person carrying destiny, and your karmic ties with our Buddhist sect have not been severed.”
“As long as you perform great deeds during this trip to the Blessed Land, I will surely spare no effort from the Great Ci'en Temple to nurture you.”
At this point, his voice grew increasingly profound and unfathomable, like a Buddhist Lord preaching the Dharma. Each word struck the Blood Dhuta's heart like a resounding bell: “With your talent, if you receive the dedicated cultivation of our Great Ci'en Temple... within sixty years, there is hope of you becoming a Mahasattva!”
Within sixty years—
Hope of becoming a Mahasattva?!
The Blood Dhuta felt a thunderous boom echo in his mind, as if something had exploded.
His previously clear eyes instantly grew burning hot, and his breathing suddenly became heavy. Even his hands pressed against the ground were trembling!
Mahasattva!
That was equivalent to the Xiantian Rank among martial cultivators!
A realm that countless martial artists could only look up to for their entire lives!
As if possessed, the Blood Dhuta snapped his head up. His eyes were bloodshot, and his voice cracked with emotion: “This disciple will definitely not fail Master's grace!”
“Even if I must sacrifice my life, I will capture that Child of Destiny and that handsome youth for Master!”
“Good!”
Shouchong burst into loud laughter.
...
“Clatter, clatter!”
The sound of armor plates rubbing together drew closer from a distance.
Dressed in black armor with a long saber at his waist, Colonel Zhenyue, Zhao Zheng, strode into the tent.
The tent was brightly lit.
Zhao Zheng looked up.
Two young men who shared a slight resemblance sat opposite each other.
Before them was a kaya-wood chessboard. Black and white pieces were interspersed, locked in an intense, inseparable battle.
Zhao Zheng stopped before the desk and bowed with cupped hands.
“Second Young Master!”
Wang Xuanmin, the core disciple of the Qingyuan Sword Pavilion, remained focused on the chessboard.
His slender fingers held a black piece. He acted as if he had heard nothing, not even lifting his eyelids.
Opposite him sat an armored youth with a resolute brow. Seeing this, he smiled and waved his hand. “Colonel Zhao, sit down and speak.”
Zhao Zheng was clearly accustomed to Wang Xuanmin's temperament.
He did not take offense either.
Sitting down as instructed, his tone still carried a trace of astonishment: “Young Master, it is indeed just as the General anticipated!”
“The Four Sects of Nanxiang have indeed gathered their forces and arrived aboard the 『Black Flood Dragon Carriage』. It is truly an impressive display!”
Wang Xuanliang chuckled, tossing the white piece in his hand back into the basket, and nodded his chin toward Wang Xuanmin opposite him. “For this, we must thank my second brother. If he had not obtained the intelligence in advance, we wouldn't have been able to seize the initiative in time.”
“You jest, Elder Brother.”
Wang Xuanmin finally raised his head. His handsome face was completely calm, and his tone was steady. “This is due to Father's brilliant foresight. It has little to do with me.”
Setting down the black piece in his hand, he spoke slowly: “Father learned from Prince Changle that Zuo Muxian of the Star-Plucking Sect has appeared in Changyun to disrupt things.”
“Shen Xiuhan, who is connected to the Child of Destiny, just so happened to join the Star-Plucking Sect.”
“These two events happening together is definitely no coincidence.”
“And Father had previously instructed Uncle to have Auntie Zhen, who is by my third brother's side, step forward to test Shen Xiuhan's depth.”
He paused, a sharp gleam flashing in his eyes.
“Auntie Zhen has cultivated the 『Dongxuan Pupil』 and is skilled at observing qi and reading meridians. Her assessment of Shen Xiuhan is that he is exceptionally clever, bold yet meticulous, and prefers to hide his abilities, disliking showing his cards to others.”
“Father guessed that if this person knew about the Blessed Land, he would surely find a way to gain the trust of the Star-Plucking Sect's higher-ups, using the sect as a shield to keep himself safe.”
“Therefore...”
“Once Shen Xiuhan became a core disciple of the Star-Plucking Sect, Father was absolutely certain he would act this way.”
“Thus, Father had me send people to plant informants within the Four Sects to monitor their movements.”
“The Diaohai Blessed Land involves too many interests. Relying on the strength of the Star-Plucking Sect alone is not enough to monopolize the benefits of the Blessed Land and retreat safely.”
“They would definitely ally with the other three sects of Nanxiang!”
“And sure enough!”
“A few days ago, Lei Xiao, the Head of Kaiyang Academy, suddenly started traveling between the sects to coordinate with them.”
At this point, Wang Xuanmin slowly raised his eyes. A trace of smug satisfaction finally flickered in those eyes that had always remained calm, and he said:
“Once I received the news, I informed Father and asked him to prepare in advance.”
“Now...”
“Prince Changle must have already arrived at Cloudwater Lake in person.”
The tent fell silent for a brief moment.
Wang Xuanmin sneered, leaning back slightly against his chair as he slowly continued:
“His Ninth Highness has already promised Father that as long as we refine Xiao Wu inside the Blessed Land, all the other benefits...”
Before he could finish his sentence,
Wang Xuanliang, sitting opposite him, grinned, revealing a row of stark white teeth as he laughed, “It all belongs to our Wang family!”
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