Guided by the sound, they quickly found the location of the Huracan Tribe. Like the Sangqi Tribe, they lived in a wide valley, through which a river meandered and disappeared into the mountains behind the valley.
The Huracan Tribe appears to be much larger Sangqi Tribe. A wide road runs through the middle of the village, and the houses on both sides of the road are relatively concentrated and neat, vaguely resembling a primitive market town.
The main road divides the village into two halves. At the end of the road is an open space that looks like a square. Behind the square is an altar, which is almost identical in design to the one in the Sangqi Tribe.
Qingmu and Situ led their respective men in a grand procession from both flanks straight into the valley entrance; Petru, along with Ivan and Boris, concealed their whereabouts. They were experienced in combat and possessed not only firearms but also half a Soul of Fire, making them excellent support and assault forces.
Everyone originally thought they would encounter a tough battle at the valley entrance, because this valley was like a pocket, and as long as the Huracan People held the entrance, it would be difficult for outsiders to break in.
However, when they surveyed the terrain from the high ground, they found the valley entrance deserted, while the plaza in front of the altar was packed with people, seemingly the entire tribe had gone there, and they didn't know what they were doing.
After Qingmu and Situ met up and discussed it, they felt that this did not seem like a plan to lure the enemy in, so they decided to enter from the valley entrance. Just in case, they split into three groups and did not encounter any ambushes.
However, just as they entered the valley and reached the riverbank, the sky suddenly darkened, and thick clouds blocked out all three Sun. The clouds churned and churned, as if something was stirring within them, and sunlight scattered golden fragments through the shifting clouds.
The Huracan People in the square prostrated themselves on the ground and began to chant. Their voices were uniform and deep. Although he couldn't understand their language, Qingmu could tell that the rhythm of their chanting was the same as that of the savages of the Sangqi Tribe. He had a premonition that the people of the Huracan Tribe were experiencing the same thing that the Sangqi Tribe had experienced—that day, Qingmu turned into a tree, and the entire Sangqi Tribe worshipped him as a god and surrendered their Soul of Wood.
However, he was still standing perfectly fine by the river, and had not turned into a tree. Even if he had, only the consciousness of the Sangqi Tribe savages could sense it, and it would have nothing to do with the Huracan People.
He glanced at Situ and found that Situ seemed normal.
At that moment, a surge of Mental Power exploded in the valley, like the shockwave of an atomic bomb.
Qingmu saw a huge pillar of wind suddenly rise from the ground in the direction of the altar, like a blue dragon, dragging its long body, soaring straight into the sky, its head plunging into the thick, dark clouds that had not been there before, forming a huge funnel between heaven and earth.
Suddenly, fog rolled in, obscuring his vision. But he knew it wasn't real fog, but dust. A fierce wind raged, whipping up countless fallen leaves, which were then torn to shreds in mid-air and scattered throughout the valley.
"What powerful Mental Power!" Situ said, squinting.
"Yes!" Qingmu could certainly tell that the tornado was actually formed in his consciousness, just like when he turned into a tree. He didn't know how much Mental Power he had unleashed at that moment, but now, seeing this tornado, he could roughly imagine what he looked like in someone else's consciousness.
This situation continued for a long time. Qingmu and Situ decided to temporarily avoid the attack and used their scepters to mobilize their Mental Power to protect everyone in the middle from the mental attacks of the gale.
After a while, the giant dragon began to move slowly, heading from the direction of the altar towards the valley entrance. Wherever it passed, the wind and clouds surged, and the sky and earth changed color. When it passed through the village and came to the river, it sucked the water from the river into the sky, and its originally gray-black body instantly turned white, like a white dragon. Its huge body stood upright, and the winding river seemed to be its shadow on the ground. Raindrops pattered down, slapping the river surface like a pockmarked face.
The white dragon swam slowly along the river.
The wind subsided, and the mental disturbances in people's minds also diminished. The dark, inky clouds in the sky slowly faded and thinned until the three Sun reappeared overhead.
The clouds dispersed, the wind stopped, and the rain ceased. The white dragon shrank its body and disappeared into the clear, mirror-like river, transforming into a small boat.
It was a small wooden boat, about the same size as the lifeboat Anderson and his companions were in, but judging from its shape, it was definitely not something native to the island. Rather, it resembled the small fishing boats often used by fishermen in Polynesia.
The small boat drifted downstream, and a figure could be seen standing on the bow; a graceful figure was vaguely discernible, suggesting it was a woman.
As they got closer, they could see the man's large, pointed head, like a pyramid, and that he was holding something in his hands, but not a paddle or pole, yet the boat was indeed moving in their direction.
They drew closer, almost reaching the riverbank where they were. Only then could they see clearly—the woman wore a brown sarong with cloud patterns, which was billowing in the valley wind, revealing her graceful curves. She wore a conical hat on her head, which shimmered in the sunlight, so from a distance it looked like she was wearing a pyramid.
A rower sat at the stern, wearing a simple grass skirt and animal skin bodice; he appeared to be a savage from the Huracan Tribe.
As the wooden boat docked, a woman wearing a straw hat walked barefoot and gracefully stepped off the boat, her movements gentle and steady, like a Buddha descending from a lotus throne. With each step she took, it seemed as if lotus flowers were blooming on the surrounding river.
Situ and Qingmu exchanged a glance, then smiled and went to greet them. The others, not understanding what was going on, followed behind them.
The woman clasped her hands together and said to Situ and Qingmu, "Gentlemen, we have finally met again."
Situ laughed heartily and said to Qingmu, " Duwa's spiritual Buddhist kingdom has reached a new level!"
Qingmu also felt that Duwa's Mental Power was much stronger than before, wondering if it was due to the enhancement of the Mental Power Field on the island.
Back in Mianyue, when he stormed into Wu Suotun's general's mansion with Yu Meiren, he sensed the influence of Duwa's ethereal Mental Power. At that time, he and Duwa were several miles apart. He knew he couldn't project his Mental Power that far, let alone hypnotize someone several miles away, so he guessed Duwa was much stronger than him. But with the Boss Coal's backing, no matter how strong his opponent was, he wasn't necessarily going to lose.
When Mu Ka was killed, Duwa pleaded for her life, but he didn't give Duwa any face. He originally thought he had made an enemy of this woman, so he went up the mountain to settle things, but unexpectedly obtained some information about the Alliance from Duwa.
As for how strong Duwa's Mental Power was, Qingmu didn't have a clear concept at the time, just as he didn't have a clear concept of how strong he was at that time. Later, as he released more and more of his abilities and gained a deeper understanding of consciousness and Mental Power, he realized that Duwa's Mental Power was not necessarily stronger than his own; it was just that their training methods were different and their applications were different, which is why they showed different performances.
"The Buddhist kingdom, however vast, is but a matter of a single thought in Mr. Situ's mind."
Duwa took off her conical hat, held it to her chest with one hand, and bowed slightly to greet the others. She had a graceful figure, and her distinctive Mianyue sarong accentuated her elegance. Her face was beautiful; she looked to be no more than thirty years old. Her hair was styled in a bun on top of her head, like gathered clouds.
However, Qingmu's attention was entirely focused on Duwa's other hand—the crystal-clear, bluish-gray scepter.