The dark green mountain shadows completely absorbed the last rays of the setting sun, and the round lake in front of the stone mansion was as clear as an ancient mirror. When the white-robed, black-haired man at the head of the group spoke, the light in the world seemed to gather gently towards him for a moment, then dispersed and returned to normal.
"The mountains and fields are serene and tranquil, making this humble abode shine. I am Desri."
Linley returned the greeting with clasped hands, but his heart skipped a beat. He recalled the Martial War God's instructions from years ago—there were only five people on the Yulan Continent who had cultivated to the limit of the Saint Realm and were just half a step away from stepping into the Deity Level. War God Sect 'Fain Faen was one of them, and the man in front of him, Desri, was the deepest bottom of that Chaotic Territory. Such an existence only needed one move to make him dizzy and fall to the ground.
"Junior Linley greets Mr. Desri." He suppressed a hint of resentment in his heart and spoke in a steady voice.
Desri nodded with a smile, his gaze lingering for a moment on Bebe, who had shrunk to the size of a fist on his shoulder. A barely perceptible glint flashed in the depths of his eyes, but he didn't ask any further questions. Instead, he stepped aside to lead the way. "Come on, let's go inside. Some of my old friends have been waiting for quite some time."
Passing through the peach grove behind the village and emerging from the dense woods, a wide open space covered with fine grass suddenly appears before you, with several stone benches and tables casually placed, and a round lake in the center reflecting the sky. Several stone houses lean against the mountain wall, their entrances leading to the hollowed-out mountainside.
Just then, a clear voice came from the cave entrance in the stone wall. " Reynolds!"
Reynolds froze. The girl with blue hair and a white dress came running out to greet him, her hair swaying gently in the wind. It was the same girl who had been peeking out from the gate earlier. She ran up to Reynolds, looked up at him, her eyes Jingjing: "You really came! I thought you weren't coming."
"I... I promised, so of course I had to come." Reynolds, who was usually at ease in the world of pleasure, suddenly found himself tongue-tied, and his face flushed. He coughed, trying to put on his usual nonchalant demeanor, but for the first time, he was at a loss under Monica's smiling gaze.
Linley, observing everything clearly, couldn't help but chuckle. This fourth brother of his, who had seen countless noble ladies in the capital, had never hesitated like this before.
"This must be Linley?" Monica followed Reynolds's gaze to Linley, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
"Haha, I heard Linley is here!" A hearty laugh, as loud as a bell, rang out from the other end of the meadow. Three people arrived—in the lead was a red-faced old man with white hair and a youthful face; a plump, kind-looking middle-aged man; and in the middle was a gentle, refined middle-aged man in a moon-white robe. The scholarly man at the head was the true leader of this mountain village, but the look in his eyes as he glanced at Linley and Bebe held a hint of a smile that others couldn't decipher.
"Father!" Monica immediately ran back, affectionately taking the hand of the refined man, and pointed to Reynolds, "Father, this is the Reynolds I told you about."
Reynolds nearly bit his tongue—this was Monica's father. Meeting his "father-in-law" for the first time, especially such an unfathomable figure, he even lowered his breathing and bowed respectfully.
"Not bad." Desri smiled gently at Reynolds, his smile devoid of any disdain. He turned to Linley and introduced the three, "This is Hayward, my old friend, Fire Element Saint Magus; this is Fuman, Saint Warrior, who, like you, comprehends the Laws of the Earth; and the one next to Fuman is my younger brother, Higginson, who comprehends the Laws of Light."
Linley greeted them one by one, but in his heart he unconsciously weighed the significance of these people. Any one of them from this remote mountain village would be enough to cause a stir in the region if released.
After a satisfying meal, the conversation naturally turned to exchanging ideas and skills.
" Linley, Fuman and you both practice the Laws of the Earth, making you a perfect match. However, he follows the same path as Haydson, and since you've already fought Haydson, there's no need to waste another match," Desri said thoughtfully. "In that case, let Hayward fight you."
" Saint Magus?" Linley was slightly taken aback.
In his understanding, Saint Magus without the protection of a magical beast would be at a great disadvantage in a direct confrontation with Saint Warrior —in terms of speed, he could close the distance with a single dash, leaving the opponent no time to even finish casting a spell. But these thoughts only lingered in his mind; he didn't voice them aloud.
"Judging from your eyes, you think Saint Magus is easy to bully?" Hayward stroked his red beard and laughed. "My Saint Realm magical beast died protecting me two thousand years ago, and I've never raised a second one. Don't underestimate Saint Magus without a magical beast."
Linley removed his robe, Dragonblood Warrior Transformation, his entire body covered in black dragon scales. He blurred into a blur, rushing straight at Hayward. But Hayward remained motionless. Only when Linley approached within ten feet did Hayward suddenly transform into a streak of fire, gracefully creating distance—his flight speed was even faster than Linley's.
"So fast!" Linley's expression changed slightly.
In the firelight, countless points of light rapidly coalesced above Hayward, and a fire phoenix several times larger than a dragon materialized out of thin air, its feathers like a crown, its wingspan blotting out the sky. The surrounding air hissed as it was scorched, and even Linley, a hundred meters away, had to raise his Battle-qi to defend himself.
"Forbidden magic— Phoenix Manifestation!" Linley's heart tightened.
The fire phoenix let out a clear cry, its size rapidly shrinking to ten zhang in length, its entire body gleaming gold, its feathers and eyes almost indistinguishable from those of a real beast. It rushed towards Linley like lightning, and Linley's dark blue-black Pulsation Battle-qi was visibly annihilated at an alarming speed.
"At most, I can hold out for a few more breaths." Linley decisively flew back, but the fire phoenix did not pursue him any further, instead retracting its wings and flying back to Hayward's side.
"Do you understand now?" Hayward asked with a smile. "I might not lose to you in speed. Even if you get close, I can instantly cast level eight or nine magic to slow you down and create distance, then unleash a forbidden firebird—how can you possibly counter that?"
Linley was speechless, but sweat beaded on his back. He suddenly remembered the Saint Warrior he had seen in the O'Brien Empire, how imposing they were. It turned out he had been too narrow-minded— Saint Magus were far more terrifying than he had imagined.
"That's not what Saint Magus on most," Hayward said, suddenly stepping back. "Attack me again, and experience it for yourself."
Linley charged again. But just as he was about to reach Hayward, his mind went blank, as if he had been hit by a mental storm. His vision went black, and he swayed in mid-air for several breaths before he came to his senses.
"A psychological attack?" Linley's face turned pale.
"This isn't even a proper mental attack; it's at best a rudimentary mental storm," Miller chuckled. "If Hayward's mental energy were to condense into a sharp knife and pierce your soul, you'd probably be suffering from a splitting headache and falling off a cliff by now."
Linley stood there, stunned, speechless for a long time. He had been famous as Dragonblood Warrior since childhood and relied on the Coiling Dragon Ring to cultivate magic, believing himself to be unparalleled in talent. But today's battle was like a bucket of cold water being poured on him, making him truly see that there are always people more powerful than him.
" Linley," Desri approached, his voice calm, "You are Dragonblood Warrior, and you also practice magic. But usually, you mostly treat this magic as an embellishment, never truly integrating it with your sword. Do you know what it would be like if you stepped into the Saint Realm in human form, combining the two great talents of Dragonblood Warrior and Saint Magus?"
Linley was deeply shaken, as if a bolt of lightning had shattered years of illusion. He gazed at the lingering light at his fingertips and slowly nodded. "I have remembered your teachings, Linley."
In the following days, he was almost never without his sword. He would either sit cross-legged in meditation or practice with the Purple Blood Soft Sword in the valley. The one who truly helped him break through the final barrier was Higginson.
"This sword strike is called the Illusory Void Sword. Watch closely." Higginson wielded a silver-white longsword, his figure suddenly transforming into a streak of white light, appearing before Linley in the blink of an eye. As the sword thrust forward, the surrounding space seemed to ripple and overlap like water, as if it were in disarray— Linley didn't even have time to react before the sword tip stopped just three inches from his throat.
"This sword..." Linley's pupils suddenly contracted.
He stood there, the image replaying in his mind again and again—the speed of light reaching its limit, causing space itself to become chaotic. In a flash, a thought struck him: if the speed of the Laws of Light could cause space to become disordered and overlapping, why couldn't the speed of the Laws of Wind achieve the same level?
He had experienced the ultimate "slowness" from Miller, and now he glimpsed the truth of "fast" under Higginson's sword—if fast and slow were to merge again, how sharp would the " Rhythm of the Wind " be?
This thought caused Linley to sit cross-legged in the middle of the grass, no longer caring about those around him. Hayward, Desri, and the others saw him enter a meditative state as soon as he sat down, and they looked at each other, all reading amazement in each other's eyes.
Meanwhile, Reynolds was experiencing a completely different kind of chaos and turmoil.
Monica was lively and bright, with a straightforward personality, unlike her father who was deep and reserved. She led Reynolds through the village to see the terraced fields, listen to the streams, and pick wild berries, chattering incessantly the whole way. The composure Reynolds had displayed when dealing with wealthy ladies at banquets in the capital was completely useless in front of her, and he was instead led around by her.
" Reynolds, where is your hometown?" Monica asked him, sitting on a blue stone by the stream and swinging her legs.
" The O'Brien Empire. Before... there's not much to say, just working like a slave to make a living." Reynolds scratched his head, unusually serious.
"Then why don't you stay here from now on?" Monica blurted out, only realizing her mistake immediately after speaking. Her face flushed red to her ears, and she quickly turned her head away to pull weeds.
Reynolds felt a sudden weight lift from his heart. In all his years, he had experienced both warmth and coldness, suffered humiliation and hardship, but no one had ever been so happy about his departure. He opened his mouth, but his throat felt dry and sore.
However, all of this was not without its disturbances. The young men in the village had long disliked this outsider "pretty boy." The leader was a burly young man named Weideli, who had clearly tried to please Monica before. Now, seeing that Monica's heart was completely devoted to Reynolds, and seeing that Miller and Desri were both polite to Reynolds, he became increasingly resentful and his words became more and more sarcastic.
"A nobody from who-knows-where, with his glib tongue, dares to loiter around Mr. Desri's door every day?" Weideli stopped Reynolds at the edge of the threshing floor, speaking to the entire village. "If you're really so capable, let's have a contest. If you lose, you get out of this village."
Reynolds used to be arrogant, but he had an unyielding stubbornness in his nature. If these words were meant to insult him personally, he would just laugh it off. But when it came to Monica, he would not back down an inch.
"What are we competing in?" Reynolds squinted.
"Climb the mountain. That Bald Peak Cliff behind the village. Whoever reaches the top within the time it takes for an incense stick to burn wins." Weideli pointed to the precipitous cliff to the north. "If you lose, stay away from Monica from now on."
Just as Reynolds was about to agree, a clear voice interrupted, " Weideli, what kind of skill is it to bully outsiders?" Monica had arrived unnoticed, standing outside the crowd with her arms crossed and chin slightly raised. "Even if Reynolds loses, he's still my guest. It's none of your business to worry about him."
Weideli's face stiffened, and he said stiffly, "He agreed to it himself; the whole village heard it."
Monica looked at Reynolds. Reynolds didn't hesitate for a moment, grinned at her, and said, "Leave it to me. I may not be good at much else, but I'm quite skilled at hunting in the mountains." With that, he pushed through the crowd and took the lead towards the rocky cliff.
The Bald Peak Cliff was steep and slippery, and few ordinary villagers would climb it. Weideli was strong and got the upper hand as soon as he started. When he looked back and saw Reynolds gritting his teeth and climbing up recklessly, his arms were scratched by the rock edges but he still refused to give up. The anger in his heart changed and he felt a little admiration.
As they neared the cliff top, Weideli, who had already taken the lead, inexplicably slowed down by half a beat. When Reynolds caught up and stood beside him, he suddenly snorted, "You're quite the man, I admire you. You can keep the girl."
Reynolds paused for a moment, then grinned and pulled Weideli up to the top of the cliff as well. "I, Reynolds, owe you a favor. I'll treat you to drinks another day."
From then on, no one in the village ever brought up Reynolds again.
That evening, Reynolds returned to the village entrance covered in injuries. When Monica saw him like this, her eyes immediately welled up with tears. While she was washing and applying medicine to his wounds, she couldn't help but scold him, "Are you stupid? Climbing that dangerous cliff because of that angry remark? What if you fell and got seriously injured?"
Reynolds sat on the bluestone, letting her tend to his wounds, and suddenly whispered, " Monica, I've met many people in the capital. But you're the first person I've ever wanted to stay in this poor mountain village."
Monica stopped what she was doing and remained silent for a long while, her ear tips turning bright red.
"If you're willing," Reynolds's voice was tinged with barely suppressed nervousness, "I'll live in this village from now on and guard this mountain for you, okay?"
Monica turned her head away, her nose reddening, and after a long while, she mumbled a soft "Mmm." Though the sound was soft, it felt like it struck the softest spot in Reynolds's heart.
At night, the lights in the Stone Mansion by the round lake were still on. Desri stood by the window with a cup of tea in his hand, and when he saw his daughter and the young man who had stepped into the mountain gate in the distance, a very faint smile appeared on his lips.
He muttered something, as if to himself, or perhaps to the woman in the shadows. "That child, she does have a kind heart. Let her be."
What he truly cared about was the young man sitting cross-legged in the center of the lake, meticulously carving the Laws of Wind and the sword in his heart into his very blood.
This mountain village, which had been quiet for many years, seemed to be quietly developing a different atmosphere because of these two outsider teenagers.