Chapter 419 - 416: Distress Signal
Chapter 419: Chapter 416: Distress Signal
"Zhao Mu."
Chen Tianyuan spoke, his voice calm yet filled with unquestionable authority.
"I am here."
Zhao Mu took a step forward and bowed in response.
"Go to Villa Thirty-Five in the True Inheritance Courtyard and assign the mission to support Celestial Swan City to True Disciple Fang Han."
Chen Tianyuan said slowly.
"Tell him this mission will be recorded as a minor merit. Yuan Zhan is at the Late Stage of the Third Grade, so he must be extremely careful."
"Assign it to True Inheritor Fang... Sect Leader, with True Inheritor Fang’s strength, I’m afraid he’s no match for Yuan Zhan?"
Zhao Mu was slightly taken aback and voiced the doubt in his mind.
"No, you underestimate Fang Han. He has already broken through to the Third Grade."
Chen Tianyuan said with a faint smile.
"True Inheritor Fang has already broken through to the Third Grade?"
A look of shock appeared on Zhao Mu’s face. Only after a moment did he recover and speak.
"I will go inform True Inheritor Fang at once."
He turned and strode quickly toward the hall’s entrance.
"Wait."
Chen Tianyuan’s voice sounded again.
Zhao Mu stopped and turned back to look.
"Have him depart tomorrow. He should rest well tonight."
Chen Tianyuan said.
"Yes."
Zhao Mu bowed, then turned and strode out of the hall.
The sound of his footsteps gradually faded, disappearing into the night outside.
Chen Tianyuan stood before the window with his hands behind his back, gazing into the deep darkness of the night, motionless for a long time.
He had high expectations for Fang Han, hoping he could become a future pillar of the Sect.
’I just wonder if this boy can live up to these expectations.’
...
「True Inheritance Courtyard, Villa Thirty-Five.」
The night was deep, and the courtyard was silent. Moonlight, like water, spilled over the leaves of the bamboo forest, casting dappled shadows.
Fang Han sat cross-legged in his Quiet Chamber, the aura around him as still as water.
The Cyan Profound Technique circulated slowly within him, and azure-gold Inner Qi flowed endlessly through his meridians.
His Cultivation session during the day, though not at full power, had still consumed a significant amount of Inner Qi.
He was now meditating to recover the Inner Qi he had used up.
Just then—
A soft knock came from outside the courtyard gate.
’Who could it be this late?’
Fang Han opened his eyes, a glint of light flashing through them before vanishing.
Qiu Lan and the others were already asleep. He got up, pushed open the door to his Quiet Chamber, crossed the courtyard, and arrived at the main gate.
He opened the gate. Standing outside was a middle-aged man in a Steward’s Robe, with a proper face and a steady gaze.
It was Zhao Mu, with whom he had dealt before.
"True Inheritor Fang, my apologies for the intrusion."
Zhao Mu cupped his hands in a slight bow.
"I have come on the Sect Leader’s orders."
"Steward Zhao, you’re too kind. Please, come in."
Fang Han was slightly taken aback, then returned the bow.
He stepped aside to let Zhao Mu into the courtyard.
The two sat down in the living room. Qiu Lan was already resting, so Fang Han poured two cups of tea himself, pushing one toward Zhao Mu.
"Steward Zhao, you’ve come so late at night. What instructions does the Sect Leader have?"
Fang Han got straight to the point.
Zhao Mu accepted the teacup, took a small sip, and set it down, his expression turning solemn.
"True Inheritor Fang, an urgent report has come from Celestial Swan City."
He began to speak slowly, detailing the matter of Elder Wu Zheng’s ambush and call for help, as well as the Cultivation of the Netherworld Pavilion’s Elder Yuan Zhan.
"The Sect Leader’s intention is to have you, True Inheritor Fang, make a trip to Celestial Swan City, coordinate with Elder Wu Zheng to fight Yuan Zhan, and protect our assets. This mission will be recorded as a minor merit."
After speaking, Zhao Mu’s gaze fell on Fang Han’s face, waiting for his response.
"You want me to deal with... Netherworld Pavilion’s Elder Yuan Zhan?"
Fang Han was first surprised, then grew thoughtful.
’After breaking through to the Third Grade, I haven’t revealed it to anyone. But it seems the Sect Leader has somehow learned of my breakthrough.’
’That must be why he’s assigning me the mission to deal with the Netherworld Pavilion’s Elder Yuan Zhan.’
’Just a moment ago, I was thinking about taking on missions to earn merit. I didn’t expect one to come to me so quickly.’
’And with a minor merit as the reward, no less.’
’As for the danger? Of course there’s danger. Yuan Zhan is at the Late Stage of the Third Grade, two minor realms higher than me.’
’But...’
He raised his head, met Zhao Mu’s gaze, and said,
"Then I’ll set out right now."
His voice was steady, showing no fear just because his opponent was a Late Stage Third Grade Martial Artist.
"No need to be in such a hurry. The Sect Leader said you should rest well tonight and depart tomorrow."
"The Sect Leader also asked me to tell you, True Inheritor Fang, that Yuan Zhan is a ruthless man. You must not be careless."
Taking in Fang Han’s reaction, a trace of approval flashed in Zhao Mu’s eyes as he spoke.
"I will be careful."
Fang Han nodded slightly.
"In that case, I won’t disturb your rest any longer, True Inheritor Fang. I’ll take my leave."
Zhao Mu stood up and cupped his hands in a bow.
Fang Han rose to see him off, walking him all the way to the courtyard gate.
Watching Zhao Mu’s figure disappear into the night, he turned back into the courtyard and stood under the veranda with his hands behind his back.
The watery moonlight spilled over him, outlining his cyan-robed figure and making it seem even more aloof.
’A Late Stage Third Grade Elder from the Netherworld Pavilion...’
A faint curve lifted the corners of Fang Han’s mouth, a curve that held a hint of anticipation.
The strength of a Late Stage Third Grade Elder from the Netherworld Pavilion was by no means comparable to that of an ordinary Late Stage Third Grade Martial Artist.
However, now that he had comprehended Wind Sword Intent, he was not without the power to fight.
He turned and walked toward the Quiet Chamber.
Behind him, the night wind rustled, making the bamboo forest whisper.
A crescent moon hung on the horizon.
...
「At the break of dawn, Qingxuan Mountain was shrouded in mist.」
Fang Han pushed open the courtyard gate. He wore a cyan robe, with the Cloud Splitting Sword hanging at his waist.
His bag was already packed, containing several bottles of Elixirs for healing and recovering Inner Qi, as well as some dry rations and fresh water.
Qiu Lan stood in the courtyard. Seeing him come out, she bowed and said, "Senior Brother, be careful on your journey."
Fang Han nodded slightly without another word. With a flicker of his body, he had already darted several zhang away.
After a few leaps, he disappeared at the end of the mountain path.
The main road stretched out beneath his feet, the trees on either side rapidly receding.
Fang Han pushed the Wind and Cloud Escape to its limit, his figure almost merging with the wind.
He was traveling at what could be called his top speed.
Celestial Swan City was not close to the Qingxuan Sect, and with Elder Wu Zheng severely injured, the Sect’s assets could be attacked again at any moment. He had to get there as quickly as possible.
The morning sun gradually rose, and the sky brightened.
The road grew more remote, and the mountain forests on either side became denser. The occasional birdsong from within the woods only accentuated the silence.
Fang Han never stopped, moving like a streak of pale cyan light as he sped along the winding road.
Two hours passed.
Three hours passed.
The sun climbed higher, its light filtering through the leaves to cast dappled shadows on the ground.
Fine beads of sweat dotted Fang Han’s forehead. The back of his cyan robe was soaked through with sweat, clinging tightly to his body.
After traveling at full speed for so long, even the Inner Qi of a Third Grade Martial Artist had been more than halfway depleted.
Within his meridians, the azure-gold Inner Qi still flowed without cease, but its powerful, surging feeling was not what it had been at the start.
’I should rest for a bit.’
His gaze swept over the surroundings as he prepared to find a hidden spot to meditate and recover his Inner Qi.
However, just at that moment—
"WHOOSH—!"
A sharp whistle suddenly rang out from up ahead.
Fang Han’s steps came to a sudden halt, and he looked up.
Several li ahead, a firework was blooming in the sky.
The firework was cyan and remained clearly visible even under the midday sun. After blooming, it lingered for a long time without dissipating.
’It’s the Qingxuan Sect’s distress signal!’
Fang Han’s expression changed slightly, and he quickly looked in the direction of the signal.
’Someone’s in trouble over there.’
The thought flashed through his mind, and without the slightest hesitation, Fang Han changed direction and shot toward the source of the signal.
The Profound Wind Technique surged within him, and his mostly depleted Inner Qi was once again pushed to its absolute limit.
His speed was astonishing. Like a cyan bolt of lightning, he flashed through the mountain forest, crossed a stream, and raced toward where the firework had bloomed.
He covered the distance of several li in just a few moments.
Ahead lay a relatively open area.
And at that moment, dozens of figures were locked in a fierce battle on this open ground.
Fang Han’s gaze swept across the battlefield, instantly assessing the situation.
The side being besieged was dressed in the robes of Qingxuan Sect Stewards and disciples.
Three Stewards were each being besieged by two Netherworld Pavilion Stewards, struggling to hold on.
Around them, a dozen or so disciples were also surrounded, fighting for themselves. Several had already fallen into pools of blood, their status unknown.
Their attackers were a group of figures dressed in black, tight-fitting attire.
The few in the lead exuded a cold, sinister aura, their bodies roiling with Nether Internal Qi—they were clearly Netherworld Pavilion Stewards.
They coordinated seamlessly, completely suppressing the three Qingxuan Sect Stewards.
There were also more than twenty Netherworld Pavilion disciples surrounding the dozen or so Qingxuan Sect disciples in the center, their attacks like a surging tide.
"Hold on!"
A female Qingxuan Sect Steward shouted hoarsely, forcing back a Netherworld Pavilion Steward with a strike, but another took advantage of the opening and slapped a palm against her shoulder.
"SPURT—!"
She spat a mouthful of blood, staggering back and nearly collapsing.
The other two Stewards rushed to help, but they were tied down by the Netherworld Pavilion Stewards they were fighting and couldn’t break away.
The Qingxuan Sect disciples were in equally dire straits, their situation no better than the three Stewards’.
"The Qingxuan Sect’s distress signal has been fired! Finish them off quickly before their reinforcements arrive!"
A middle-aged man with a sinister face among the Netherworld Pavilion Stewards said coldly.
"Right."
The other Netherworld Pavilion Stewards responded, their attacks growing even more ferocious.
Among the three Qingxuan Sect Stewards, the most severely injured was the female Steward, a beautiful middle-aged woman.
She wore a cyan-gray combat uniform, her long hair tied up. Her face was elegant, but now it was as pale as paper.
A wound on her left shoulder, so deep the bone was visible, was gushing blood, soaking half of her lapel.
She held a sword in her right hand, struggling to hold on, but she could no longer even maintain her Sword Momentum.
The two Netherworld Pavilion Stewards besieging her clearly saw that she was at the end of her rope, and their attacks grew even more vicious.
One wielded a pair of hooks, his moves sinister and vicious, aimed exclusively at her lower body.
The other used a Thick-Backed Machete, his Sword Momentum heavy and fierce, each slash aimed at her injured left shoulder.
"Steward Shen!"
Not far away, a Qingxuan Sect Steward roared hoarsely, wanting to come to her rescue, but he was pinned down by his own opponent and couldn’t break free.
The female Steward parried the twin hooks with her sword, only to see the Thick-Backed Machete whistling through the air, chopping straight for her head.
Before the blade even arrived, the sharp wind it generated sent the hair on her forehead whipping back wildly.
Just then—
A streak of cyan Sword Qi, like lightning tearing through the void, shot out. It appeared later but arrived first, crossing dozens of zhang in an instant to strike the Steward with the machete.
"Not good!"
The machete-wielding Steward was about to finish off his opponent with a single strike when he suddenly felt a fatal sharpness assail him from the side.
His face changed in horror, and he tried with all his might to twist his body and dodge.
But the Sword Qi was too fast.
So fast that the moment the thought of dodging formed in his mind, the Sword Qi was already upon him.
"SQUELCH—!"
A spray of blood erupted.
The machete-wielding Steward’s body was cleanly severed in two at the waist.
His upper body flew forward several chi due to inertia, spilling blood and viscera all over the ground, while his lower body collapsed limply.
He didn’t even have time to let out a scream before the light in his eyes rapidly dimmed.