He cautiously leaned over to look down. The dense forest below was so distant it resembled a deep-green carpet, while the wispy clouds beside him lay within arm's reach.
Reality felt utterly different from dreams. No matter how often he had imagined flying, he could never have grasped what it truly felt like to soar into the clouds. The Torchworld Cult, the Dantian Seed-even if a knife had been sticking out of his backside, Pei Ye would have had no attention to spare for it now.
He took two deep breaths, swallowed, and patted Black Chi. "Could you fly a little higher, then do a spin? I'm holding on tight."
Black Chi smiled silently. This sudden childishness was peculiar to the boy he knew. He swooped and wove through the sky, his movements graceful and fluid, ignoring the request.
After a while of this wondrous novelty, reality's shadow returned to Pei Ye's heart. Looking at the mountain silhouettes ahead, he said softly, "If only you'd come a little earlier. Zhu Gaoyang, he..."
"Yes. I... saw everything."
"I'm not blaming you..." Pei Ye sighed softly and raised his head to look at the waning moon. "I know you must have faced dangers at every turn these past few days-"
Suddenly, he straightened, his expression turning grave. "Two births."
Black Chi said nothing. He was already flying at full speed and could go no faster.
Pei Ye said quietly, "You don't need to rush. We should make it to Fenghuai in time, but I probably won't last until the Immortal Platform arrives. How quickly they travel isn't up to us, either. Besides, even if they come, are you sure they can solve this problem?"
"Yes, but they might solve it by getting rid of you along with the problem."
Chapter 57: A Dead End
Pei Ye rolled his eyes and lay back. Raising one hand, he willed frost blossoms to crystallize out of thin air.
Just a few days ago, Pei Ye could never have imagined possessing such legendary abilities. Frost and fire obeyed his wishes, dragon blood brimmed within him, and even the Profound Qi outside his body answered his commands through the Little Sprout in his belly.
Yet beneath that power, he himself would shatter at a touch. Pei Ye understood clearly that this strength did not originate from him, nor could he ever control it. He had merely been lucky enough to bear it, allowing him to gather a few scraps spilling from it.
The sheer weight of that power alone would crush his fragile self.
Feeling powerful was wonderful, of course, but it was far too insubstantial. Pei Ye still preferred strength he cultivated solidly, step by step-even if it was weak, it would belong entirely to him.
All he wanted was a Dantian Seed-however defective, as long as it was his own-not a fully formed Meridian Tree.
He would either find "Endowed Fortune" and see whether he could use it to control this thing, or ask the Immortal Platform to remove it.
Pei Ye sensed the Two Births sprout in his belly. Its unheard-of growth rate weighed on his heart like iron.
Only a little over an hour had passed since it sprouted. In that time, it had devoured just two black-robed men; all the rest of its growth had come from absorbing the Profound Qi between heaven and earth.
Although each subsequent branching became more difficult, the rate at which it absorbed Profound Qi was increasing in tandem.
Realms that took cultivators a dozen years, or even decades, of painstaking effort to reach might require only a day and a night for it.
This speed, which utterly shattered common sense, was terrifying. He had been wrong. It was not a "more powerful, unusual Dantian Seed," like some wondrous encounter granted to a story's protagonist. It was a rapidly swelling monster.
If it maintained this pace, it should be at around its fifth or sixth growth by the time Ming Qitian arrived. Then he could see whether she had any way to deal with it.
Pei Ye sent out another Small Sword Talisman, informing Ming Qitian of his current location and movements.
But if it devoured anything else, there was no telling.
Pei Ye sensed those branches poised to strike like snakes, his thoughts heavy.
At the very least, he had to keep that under control and stay away from corpses. So long as he killed no one, it could not hunt for itself, after all.
Pei Ye sat up and lowered his head in thought. The hornless dragon's body beneath him entered his sight, and a sudden craving arose.
The thought made his heart pound in alarm, and he hastily shook his head.
Suddenly, Black Chi said, "There are people below."
"What?"
"People you know."
Xing Zhi had not smiled once since entering the mountains.
Grass stains and gray dirt marked her boots and trousers, and her face had darkened several shades. The calm gentleness she had shown at the County Office had been worn away, replaced by a hardened brow and lightning-sharp eyes.
Only she knew the place Zhu Gaoyang's name held in her heart, but everyone knew the place it held in Dragon Lord Dongting.
For reasons both public and private, she would never tolerate anything happening to him.
Yet after more than a day without news, more than a day of ceaseless searching, all the scattered clues had allowed unease to seize her mind completely.
He had gone deeper and deeper into the mountains, but never come back out.
That discovery brought her resentment surging up again. With [Luminous Spirit Illuminates the World, Unbound by Dust] in his hands, even if he encountered unforeseen danger, how could he possibly fail to escape if he wanted to leave?
He must have insisted on playing the hero again, sticking his foot into everything whether it concerned him or not, self-righteously putting himself in danger, believing he could always turn back the raging tide and snatch life from the jaws of death.
When she saw him this time, no matter how badly he was hurt, she could not soften again. She would curse him until he was drenched in abuse, report everything she had helped him conceal to her senior martial uncle, and make sure he was punished severely for once!
She only hoped she would still have that chance.
And two hours ago, she had discovered, to her delighted surprise, that this hope might not be entirely remote.
Because they had encountered powerful enemies.
Five Torchworld Cult followers at the Seventh Growth and eighth growth stages, searching toward the mountains' edge, had run straight into their party as they searched deeper within.
What were those people looking for?
Senior Brother Zhu, who had escaped?
Clinging to that belief, Xing Zhi had led this small squad in a brutal fight, killing them one by one.
But that had only been the beginning. More black-robed figures gathered. Though they came in scattered groups, not one was easy to handle.
By now, only four soldiers remained of this elite unit. Shang Lang had suffered nearly ten wounds, and she found it increasingly difficult to wield her spiritual power.
And five more black-robed figures, like night owls, stood before them.
Senior Brother Zhu might have escaped, but she might never see him again.
Shang Lang stood at the front, spear in one hand and halberd in the other. Xing Zhi knew his lamp had run dry, too, but he could not show the slightest fatigue. If he so much as swayed, these people would immediately rush forward and tear them apart.
But holding on would yield the same result. The black-robed men would soon realize they no longer had the strength to attack.
Sure enough, one black-robed figure darted sideways toward Shang Lang first. Cold light flashed amid his billowing robe. Shang Lang opened his blood-crusted eyes, cast a lightning-sharp glance aside, and swung his halberd to meet him.
Shang Lang came from a hereditary military family and served in the Dragon Martial Army. All his skills lay in battlefield combat; he was an unrivaled warrior when breaking enemy formations. But against slender sabers and sharp swords in such cramped fighting, his fierce strength often found no room to unfold, leaving him badly constrained.
Even so, with military formations and spells supporting him, Shang Lang had killed more enemies than any of them. He had already been striving for a place on the Teal List, and this battle had amply demonstrated his ability to overpower his opponents.
Three others followed barely a heartbeat behind, joining forces to surround and kill the tottering warrior.
Without a trace of fear, Shang Lang ignored those three and threw himself at the first man without hesitation.
He had known this principle by heart since childhood, when he fought wooden dummy formations with a wooden stick.
On the battlefield, he could never let his eyes be dazzled or his mind thrown into confusion, never try to have everything both ways. His choices had to be decisive enough for his comrades to see them clearly and determine more quickly which side they needed to cover.
As expected, Xing Zhi's spells arrived in time, and the soldiers fought desperately to intercept the attackers. But the enemy before Shang Lang abruptly abandoned his fierce killing intent, shifting his saber work to entangle him instead. Another attacked from behind, giving him no room to maneuver.
At the same time, three rushing sounds swept past his side. Alarm jolted through Shang Lang, and he cried out involuntarily, "Sister Xing Zhi!"
Their first target was clearly the spellcaster sheltered at the rear. With Shang Lang weakened and the soldiers' numbers sharply reduced, gaps had opened in her protection. Only then did Xing Zhi realize she was already within reach of a killing blow.
She did still have ways to prevent enemies from closing in, but her spellcasting had slowed, and she had just used two spells to aid Shang Lang.
In a moment's daze, the cold blade was already upon her. Xing Zhi had never expected death to arrive so abruptly. It might be the most important event in a person's life, but not everyone had time to gather their emotions and face it solemnly.
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Chapter 58: Reunion
Like an owl seizing a mouse, the black-robed man hurtled savagely toward her. Xing Zhi drew the jade-green short sword at her waist.
Because she often partnered with Senior Brother Zhu, it had been a long time since she had needed to draw it. She had almost forgotten that a spellcaster did not merely perform safe tasks like seeking methods and scouting routes; she also had to be ready at every moment for battles that splashed blood across her body.
But she absolutely could not withstand a strike like this.
Gritting her teeth, Xing Zhi swung her sword one final time, the instinctive tremor of facing death already quivering in her heart.
A crisp shattering sound rang out.
Like glass falling to the ground, like jade striking thin ice, the saber's tip touched her arm and suddenly broke apart. Scattered white crystals glittered translucently beneath the moon.
Then everything behind it followed suit.
It was as though she had become a piece of incomparably hard metal. As her opponent flew into her, he was like a wave crashing against a boulder. From the saber's tip to its blade and hilt, then his hand, arm, and shoulder, and finally his entire body-as though carved from thin crystal, he shattered inch by inch against her.
Amid the glittering shards, that familiar white-clad figure plummeted from the sky. Behind him, beneath the tall trees and waning moon, a magnificent beast's head followed, majestic and beautiful.
Freezing frost and flying fire filled the space. That familiar sword traced a perfect arc, its edge touching and withdrawing in an instant, and a black-robed man's head had already fallen to the ground.
She had never seen this astonishing swordsmanship, so different from Dragon Lord Dongting's, but indescribable joy had already filled her mind. Thought yielded for the moment, and all the resentment of her journey was cast aside.
She was about to call out in delighted surprise when the white-clad figure turned, revealing a familiar face that froze her in place.
The long hornless dragon, as though carved from black jade, coiled around trees and rested upon rocks. His tail swept away every corpse, while his head hung low in quiet languor, gazing down. Before him, Pei Ye sheathed his sword and frowned. "Brother Shang, Official Xing, are you all right?"
"Why are you wearing Senior Brother Zhu's clothes? Where is he?" Xing Zhi hurried forward and seized Pei Ye's arm. He looked down. Her slender hand was trembling, its knuckles white from the force she unconsciously exerted.
"Senior Brother Zhu... he met with misfortune and died... Official Xing, my condolences," Pei Ye said softly.
The hand gripping his forearm suddenly loosened. Xing Zhi's eyes went blank and her lips paled. Her gaze wandered unconsciously before returning to Pei Ye's face. She opened her mouth but could not speak.
Shang Lang caught her in time. Turning his head, he looked at Pei Ye's hand, wreathed in frost and fire, then glanced at the sword before quickly raising his eyes for two brief looks at Black Chi. "Brother Pei, what... what happened?"
This boy, whom they had previously considered a burden, had arrived in such fashion after only a single day. It truly overturned his understanding.
He even felt an urge to reach out toward that face and see whether Brother Zhu was teasing them in another disguise.
But if it really were Brother Zhu, clearing out these black-robed men would not have taken even this "long."
Pei Ye fell silent for a moment, then took out the jade pendant and placed it in Shang Lang's hand. "We'll talk later. This is what Senior Brother Zhu left behind. Keep it safe, and leave in another direction. Someone is pursuing me."
Xing Zhi suddenly gripped his arm tightly. "What did he die for?"
Pei Ye could only explain briefly. "The Torchworld Cult was trying to hatch a terrifying Dantian Seed. Senior Brother Zhu and I brought it out. He stayed to hold off our pursuers."
"Is that thing on you now?"
We could get on the hornless dragon and talk while we leave, Pei Ye thought, but the idea vanished an instant later.
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