Mu Ye, Body Sect

The smell of blood still hung heavy over the deck.

The corpse of the Evil Orca King floated on the surface of the sea, its grey-white belly exposed as dark red blood was slowly washed away by the waves.

Fragments of ice collided amidst the surging swells, emitting a crisp, crackling sound.

The survivors, having escaped death, were either sprawled on the deck gasping for air, clutching their loved ones in tears, or hunched over the ship's railing retching.

Several low-level Soul Masters leaned against the railings, their hands still trembling; they had yet to recover from the aftereffects of the high-intensity, sustained firing.

Then, everyone's gaze fell in unison upon Lin Qingzhou.

The youth, dressed in ordinary cloth garments and wielding a warhammer, stood upon a patch of broken ice. He was drenched, and the head of his hammer was still stained with the blood and gore of the ten-thousand-year Evil Orca.

His breathing had yet to fully steady, his chest rising and falling slightly. The head of the warhammer rested on the ice, pressing a shallow indentation into it. The scene of the recent battle remained etched on the retinas of everyone present; the image of that single hammer blow shattering the ten-thousand-year orca's bone plate was impossible to forget.

In particular, the deep purple phantom that had emerged behind him—that sense of oppression was not on the level of soul power, but something far deeper, as if someone had reached out and gripped one's heart.

"That youth... who is he?" someone asked in a low voice.

No one answered.

Lin Qingzhou ignored those gazes.

It wasn't that he was trying to look cool; he was simply heartbroken. So many ten-thousand-year soul rings were dissipating right in front of him, yet he couldn't absorb a single one.

If only I had a Soul Tool to collect them, how much money could I have sold them for?

At the mere thought, Lin Qingzhou felt a pang of pain. He was now completely penniless, with only a few thousand Federation Currency left in his pockets.

He hung the warhammer back on his back, his mind already turning to an entirely different matter.

The middle-aged man in the chef's uniform had hovered over the sea with such casual ease, as if he were stepping on the floor of his own living room.

A God-ranked mecha and four-word battle armor—either one of these things alone would be enough to walk sideways across the continent, yet they were both stacked on a single person.

He had slapped a hundred-thousand-year Evil Orca King to death and casually collected both the soul ring and soul bone; the entire process was so clean it made one's scalp tingle.

He had finally witnessed the peak combat power of this world with his own eyes today, and it was a completely different concept from what was written in the original work. The shock of seeing it in person was far greater than reading about it on paper.

The murmurs on the deck grew louder.

"That martial soul, did you see it? The purple phantom, I've never seen anything like it..."

"He didn't even use a soul skill for that hammer blow, did he? No soul rings lit up."

"He looks less than ten years old, yet he can solo-kill a ten-thousand-year soul beast?"

Lin Qingzhou snapped out of his thoughts and frowned. He didn't like being watched, especially after having just used his End-of-All Martial Soul.

A place like this had too many eyes and ears; who knew if there were Federation agents or other factions lurking about. The news about Proud Arrival City had just been suppressed, and he didn't want to be the next object to be "harmonized."

Just then, a hand reached out from behind and rested on his shoulder.

The hand was rough, the palm covered in thick calluses, and the five fingers gripped his shoulder blade like iron pincers.

Lin Qingzhou's pupils constricted sharply. He instinctively tried to struggle forward, but the strength of that hand was absurdly great; his innate divine strength felt like a joke in the other's grip. Before he could even unhook his warhammer, his heels had already left the ground.

A few gasps rang out across the deck.

"That youth is gone!"

"Did someone just..."

"The one in the chef's uniform? Was it him?"

Only a faint sound of air being torn remained. Where the youth had stood on the ice, only the shallow indentation from the warhammer remained.

Lin Qingzhou felt as though he had been carried through the air for quite some time.

The wind rushed into his ears and collar, and the salty, fishy scent of the sea surged into his nose.

He tried to open his eyes, but the speed was so fast that his vision blurred into a smear; he could only vaguely sense that he was moving at high speed above the sea surface.

That hand remained firmly clamped on his shoulder, the force controlled to perfection—not enough to hurt him, but leaving absolutely no chance of breaking free.

When his heels finally touched solid ground again, he stumbled and nearly fell. Beneath his feet was a wooden deck, carrying the dampness of the sea and the smell of fish. It was a small fishing boat.

The hull was quite old; the paint on the gunwales had peeled off in several places, fishing rods lay across the stern, and fishing nets were draped over the cabin roof.

The entire boat rocked gently with the waves, the rhythm much faster than that of the luxury cruise ship from before.

A man sat at the bow.

Mu Ye. He was still in that white chef's uniform, his apron untied, and his sleeves still rolled up to his elbows.

He sat on a small stool, holding a fishing rod that looked like it had seen many years of use. The fishing line dangled into the sea, the float bobbing up and down with the waves.

Beside him sat a small charcoal stove with an iron grate on top, holding two freshly grilled sea fish. The fish skin was roasted to a golden, slightly charred crisp, and the fat sizzled. As the sea breeze blew, the charred, savory aroma of the grilled fish drifted across the entire boat.

Lin Qingzhou's first reaction was to reach back for the handle of his warhammer.

Purple-gold magic patterns faintly lit up beneath his skin, and the outline of that deep purple phantom emerged behind him. It didn't fully manifest, but that sense of oppression had already begun to spread silently.

He did not attack, nor did he speak; he simply maintained a distance from which he could act at any moment.

Mu Ye didn't even turn his head.

"Kid,"

His voice was slightly raspy, as if worn down by years of exposure to kitchen fumes. "If I wanted to kill you, you would've died back on that tin boat. Why would I go through the trouble of dragging you here? For the measly amount of Federation Currency you're carrying?"

Lin Qingzhou remained silent for a few seconds. What Mu Ye said was a fact; he had no way to refute it.

A hundred-thousand-year Evil Orca King couldn't even withstand a single slap from him; his own meager strength was truly insignificant in front of this man.

He released his grip on the war hammer's handle, and the phantom behind him slowly dissipated as the magic patterns receded back into his skin.

"Come over, sit down."

Mu Ye gestured with his chin toward the small folding stool opposite him. Without waiting to see if Lin Qingzhou would sit, he picked up a grilled fish from the charcoal stove and flicked his wrist, sending the entire fish, iron skewer and all, flying toward Lin Qingzhou.

Lin Qingzhou reached out and caught it. The skewer was still scorching hot, and he had to switch hands twice before he could hold it steady.

The skin of the grilled fish was charred and crispy, while the meat inside was white and tender, almost translucent. The rising steam carried a faint scent of sea salt.

He had fought a full battle on the deck, exhausting a significant amount of both stamina and soul power, and he was indeed hungry. Besides, if the man really wanted to kill him, he wouldn't be able to run anyway. Thinking of this, he stopped being coy.

Furthermore, that wasn't the only reason; Zero had already sent him a message just moments ago. The response was simple.

"No danger. It is safe to engage."

Within the End-of-All Divine Realm, inside the sanctuary.

A virtual panel floated before Zero's eyes. The energy field of the entire Divine Realm was clearly visible, and several large screens were fixed intently on the scene involving Lin Qingzhou.

He took a bite. The fish meat was so tender it barely needed chewing, and the juices burst in his mouth. The salty fragrance mixed with a hint of charcoal bitterness—it was the simplest, yet most delicious way to prepare it.

Mu Ye watched him eat with such directness. His face remained expressionless, but the fine lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled. He picked up another grilled fish himself, took a large bite, chewed twice, and then pulled a small ceramic pot from somewhere, taking a swig.

The smell of alcohol drifted over with the sea breeze—it was pungent, likely some kind of homemade rice wine.

"You're quite bold, kid." Mu Ye wiped his mouth. "Aren't you afraid I'd poison you?"

"Would being afraid help?" Lin Qingzhou replied vaguely, his mouth stuffed with fish.

Mu Ye stared at him for two seconds, then suddenly threw his head back and laughed. The laughter was coarse, startling several seabirds at the stern into flight. He slapped his thigh as he laughed, causing the small folding stool to creak.

"Fine! Interesting. The brats these days either tremble in fear or drop to their knees calling me 'Senior' when they see me. You, on the other hand, act like you're eating at a roadside stall."

He took another swig of wine and held the ceramic pot out toward Lin Qingzhou. "Want some?"

"No." Lin Qingzhou continued eating his fish.

Mu Ye didn't force him. He pulled the pot back, leaned against the gunwale, and squinted as he watched the boy eat.

After the sea breeze had blown for a while, Mu Ye finally spoke in a leisurely tone.

"I was originally the head chef on that tin boat."

He pointed his thumb toward the luxury cruise ship, which was no longer visible in the distance.

"I change ships every three months and only work for half a month before getting off. Don't ask me why; if you do, the answer is just a hobby. Chopping vegetables is much more interesting than killing people. That godforsaken place, the Body Sect, is dead quiet all day long. There isn't even anyone to talk to, so I couldn't stay."

Lin Qingzhou's movements paused. Although he had already guessed it, hearing the man admit it himself felt different.

"There were so many people on that ship, why did you have to target me?" He looked up at Mu Ye.

"Your blood energy was too intense."

Mu Ye was blunt, without any preamble.

"The first day you boarded, I sensed a powerful surge of blood energy. You know? There is a channel through which Body Martial Souls can sense one another."

"As the Sect Master of the Body Sect, I can naturally sense the aura of a Body Martial Soul. Of course, it's not exactly an 'aura'; it's just that the blood energy of a Body Martial Soul is much stronger than that of an ordinary Martial Soul."

"I thought to myself back then, an interesting little guy has snuck onto this ship."

"And then you started observing me."

Lin Qingzhou recalled the gaze he had felt in the corridor that night. He stared straight at Mu Ye.