Chapter 28: The Master

Night had deepened. The lights of ten thousand homes had gone out, and even the bustling Holy City had fallen into stillness. The radiant moonlight streamed through the city’s protective barrier, casting a kaleidoscope of dazzling colors upon the land.

Within the Human Race’s Sacred Hall, the five Elders had gathered, each wearing a look of grave concern. Just moments before, they had received word of the appearance of the Spirit War Command. Though the captain of the Heavenly Camp’s guards had promised Chu Feng not to spread the news, the gravity of the matter compelled him to report it to the Elders.

In the grand hall, the five Elders sat in silent contemplation, their expressions tangled with complex thoughts. After all, in the past century, only two Spirit War Commands had been issued. The one belonging to the son of the Eastern King had already been used, while the other, that of Yu Yang, had never appeared before the world.

With their experience and wisdom, the five quickly deduced that the one in Chu Feng’s possession was most likely Yu Yang’s. Yet, for the Elders, the Spirit War Command itself was not the most pressing concern; it was Yu Yang who weighed heaviest on their minds. He was a prodigy, the mightiest figure in the history of the Human Race. Should he return, he would greatly bolster their prestige and strike terror into the hearts of their demonic foes.

After a while, the Second Elder finally spoke. “Fifteen years have passed, and at last there is a sign of him. Yet, whether he lives or perished, we remain in the dark.”

“I wonder if that young one met Yu Yang at all. Whatever the case, the situation cannot be good. If Yu Yang were unharmed, he would surely have returned by now,” the Third Elder said.

The others nodded in silent agreement. Then the Grand Elder spoke: “One thing is certain. After Yu Yang disappeared, he was in Ancient Qilin City. Could it be that he alone destroyed those tens of thousands of demon soldiers?”

But the Grand Elder immediately shook his head, dismissing his own theory. “No, if it was his doing, why would he wait until after hundreds of thousands had been slaughtered before acting?”

“There is more to that matter than we know,” the Fourth Elder observed. “Still, the ruins of Ancient Qilin City must be thoroughly investigated. We must discern the demons’ true intentions. Should we meet with this Chu Feng? The Spirit War Command is of great import. In his hands, the glory of genius might be buried.”

The Fifth Elder shook his head. “I think it’s best to watch and wait. With Yu Yang’s whereabouts still unknown, any rash move might alert the demons and bring calamity upon him.”

The Fourth Elder nodded. “That is sound advice. We can question Chu Feng when the time is right. But since he cannot even undergo spiritual transformation, should we not retrieve the Spirit War Command?”

“There’s no need for that,” the Second Elder replied. “From what we know, Yu Yang probably entrusted it to Chu Feng. Chu Feng is now its master—Yu Yang’s will. There is no reason to interfere.”

The Fifth Elder nodded in agreement, though he could not help but sigh. “I truly do not understand Yu Yang. He did not leave it to his own clan, and of all people, gave it to a boy who cannot even awaken his spirit.”

At this, the Grand Elder stroked his beard and laughed. “The Spirit War Command was won by Yu Yang. If he chose not to use it, he had every right to dispose of it as he pleased. Besides, this young Chu Feng is rather interesting. When he came before us, he already bore the Spirit War Command and yet kept his composure. Let him have it. Perhaps Yu Yang did this purposefully. We shall watch and see.”

In just a few words, the five Elders had tacitly acknowledged Chu Feng as the rightful master of that Spirit War Command.

Meanwhile, Chu Feng was still reeling from what Murong Qiuxue had told him. Long Yue had only entered the Spirit War Pavilion four years earlier, and in those short years had become the strongest in the Heavenly Camp—the only Heavenly Spirit Warrior. Such accomplishments stirred waves of awe within Chu Feng.

Who could have imagined that someone who awakened her spirit at twelve could be such a marvel?

Chu Feng found himself lost in thought, unable to process the enormity of it.

After a while, he regained his composure and inquired about Long Yue’s recent years. She had been highly valued and lived a peaceful, stable life, spending most of her time immersed in cultivation.

“Thank you,” Chu Feng said, taking his leave from Murong Qiuxue.

She handed him a jade talisman. If Long Yue returned, she would use it to inform him.

Murong Qiuxue walked Chu Feng to the gate, and just as he was about to depart, she called out, “Newcomer Chu Feng.”

Chu Feng paused and turned. He heard her say softly, “I’m sorry.”

He grinned, waved, and replied, “If anyone should apologize, it’s me. But I truly didn’t look too much.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than he darted away.

Murong Qiuxue’s fair cheeks flushed crimson. She glared at Chu Feng’s retreating figure and returned indoors.

Though the night was deep, the Heavenly Camp was far from dark. The main roads and winding paths, gardens, towers, and pavilions were all brightly lit.

Somewhere amidst the gardens, Liu Yantao sat drinking alone at a stone table, a barrier erected around him so that none outside could see him there.

“In life’s prime, one must drink to the fullest—never let a golden goblet face the moon alone,” Liu Yantao sighed, gazing up at the sky, and drained his cup of wine.

Though his face was still swollen and bruised, his air remained carefree.

After several cups, he gingerly touched his battered face, wincing at the pain. “That Murong Qiuxue—she was ruthless! My handsome face, battered and swollen. I’ll make her regret this one day!”

He poured himself another drink and sighed. “But that girl is truly formidable. There are few in the Heavenly Camp who could stand against her. Thank the heavens I ran fast—otherwise, I’d be lucky to escape with my life, let alone my skin.”

Thinking of the newcomer, Liu Yantao shook his head ruefully and muttered, “Ah, little brother, I hope you can withstand the ordeal. May you be all right.”

Moments later, he stared into the distance, nearly letting his eyes pop from their sockets. He thought he was seeing things. Rubbing his eyes, he looked again—almost crying out in surprise. Walking along the path was none other than that very newcomer.

Chu Feng was walking alone, deep in thought about his meeting with Long Yue, when suddenly his nose struck something solid. Jolted from his reverie, he looked up—nothing was there.

“Could it be…” Chu Feng, suspicion on his face, reached out and felt an invisible wall: a barrier, without doubt.

Who else would play such childish tricks? From what Chu Feng knew, only Liu Yantao in the Heavenly Camp would do such a thing.

“Liu Yantao! Show yourself!” Chu Feng shouted, irritation flaring.

“Hahaha, little brother, you do worry for me. Come, let us drink a cup together!” A hearty voice rang out.

Chu Feng looked toward the voice. The air shimmered, and then Liu Yantao’s figure emerged.

To Chu Feng, Liu Yantao was nothing less than a walking disaster. He hadn’t intended to approach, but seeing Liu Yantao’s bruised and swollen face, he couldn’t help but go closer for a look.

Liu Yantao poured him a drink, and Chu Feng, unceremonious as ever, downed it in one gulp.

Liu Yantao’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as he studied Chu Feng up and down, unable to believe that the newcomer had emerged unscathed from Murong Qiuxue’s hands.

“You’re all right?” Liu Yantao asked, pouring another drink.

“What could happen to me?” Chu Feng replied with feigned ease. Though it hadn’t been so easy facing Murong Qiuxue, he wanted to seize the chance to put this scoundrel in his place.

“Murong Qiuxue didn’t…” Liu Yantao prodded, trailing off.

Chu Feng shot him a look. “Did what? She simply invited me to sit for a while in her fragrant dwelling. We had a nice, heartfelt chat.”

Saying this, Chu Feng felt a twinge of guilt, but his composure never faltered.

“What!” Liu Yantao gaped, jaw nearly hitting the ground in disbelief. Yet he could not doubt it—Chu Feng was perfectly unharmed, without so much as a bruise.

Liu Yantao’s mouth went dry. He couldn’t help but ask, “Brother, how did you manage it?”

Chu Feng raised his cup, drank again, and looked at Liu Yantao with a smug smile. “I’m the newcomer—who am I to fear?”

He glanced at Liu Yantao with disdain, then produced a jade talisman and waved it before him—the very one Murong Qiuxue had given him. Chu Feng showed it off just to annoy him.

The talisman was for transmitting messages. Chu Feng said nothing more, but Liu Yantao sensed Murong Qiuxue’s aura on it and knew at once it was truly from her. Any doubts evaporated.

“Heavens! How could you do this to me?” Liu Yantao wailed, nearly driven mad with envy. To think that doing the same thing would earn him a swollen face, but Chu Feng walked away with a transmission talisman!

Seeing his misery, Chu Feng felt delight.

Once Liu Yantao had vented, he regarded Chu Feng with a newfound respect—admiration even—raising his thumb in salute. “Expert, a true expert!”

“Come, brother! We must have a good chat,” Liu Yantao urged him to sit and poured more wine.

Chu Feng was inwardly amused, but with good food and drink, he had no reason to refuse.

Drinking with Liu Yantao was truly refreshing; the man had a bold, unrestrained spirit. Yet, there were things about him that Chu Feng could never fully approve of.

During their drinking, Liu Yantao asked what method Chu Feng had used—not only to calm Murong Qiuxue’s anger, but even to earn a jade talisman from her.

Chu Feng kept his answers vague, brushing off the question. There was little truth worth telling—he could hardly say he had almost been struck dead by her. Such tales could be told to others, but never to Liu Yantao.

Suddenly, a thought struck Chu Feng. “By the way, how is it that Murong Qiuxue can fly? As far as I know, only Sacred Spirit Warriors possess the power of flight.”