Counting carefully, the war between the righteous and demonic factions in the Northern Sea had lasted nearly a full century, progressing from minor skirmishes to all-out war.
Especially after total war erupted, the two sides had been locked in a bitter tug-of-war for fifty years.
From the very beginning, when the two major immortal and demonic factions suddenly struck out against the Canghai Alliance and gained overwhelming superiority, to later seizing half the territory of the Northern Sea's human cultivation world before both sides called a truce and stood in standoff...
Back then, it could barely be considered a rare period of calm for the Northern Sea cultivation world since the fall of the Yuan Demon Sect.
The allied immortal-demonic forces held half of the Northern Sea's human territory, while the Canghai Alliance controlled two-thirds of the remaining half. Although its domain was smaller than that of the immortal-demonic alliance, it comprised the core prime waters of the inner sea that Northern Sea cultivators had cultivated and developed for thousands of years.
The remaining scraps and corners were divided among the Myriad Immortals Association, the Tianyuan Commerce Alliance, and various remote smaller factions.
Order had been relatively stable back then. Even when small skirmishes occurred, they remained strictly between the righteous and demonic factions.
Exchanges between cultivation sects and commercial trade had briefly resumed.
Even when Luo Chen had traveled between the far north and the southeast in his earlier years, as long as he didn't deliberately cause trouble, no one went out of their way to target him.
Regrettably, that calm had been completely shattered a few months ago.
With the disappearance of the Golden Sky and Black Sea anomaly in the Sunken Sea, the Penglai Immortal Sect inexplicably began drawing down its forces, recalling its disciples and sect members from abroad on a massive scale.
With that, the balance between the righteous and demonic factions was broken.
The Canghai Alliance reversed fifty years of being suppressed and pushed around. Taking the initiative, they launched sweeping counterattacks, reclaiming vast swathes of islands and sea territories previously seized by the Moluo Stream.
The flames of war burned so fiercely that smaller factions caught unaware, having failed to sense the shifting winds, were swept up and devastated for no reason.
For the Sui family merchant fleet, forcibly changing course right at the edge of the burning gate could already be considered exceptionally wise on the leading cultivator's part.
Yet Luo Chen plunging straight into the heart of the battlefield appeared rather reckless.
Under normal circumstances, a late Golden Core grand cultivator could dominate a region, and exercising just a little restraint would suffice to traverse the Northern Sea unhindered.
Yet before a massive battlefield involving tens of thousands of cultivators, such a cultivation base was truly nothing exceptional.
Riding the wooden kite, Luo Chen entered the fray. Shrouded in a shield of magic power, he charged forward without the slightest hesitation.
Suddenly, a flying sword radiating immense magic power tore through the air from ahead, stabbing toward him.
Luo Chen's expression remained impassive. He reached out his right hand, splaying his five fingers.
At this sight, the Canghai Alliance Golden Core cultivator who had unleashed the sword sneered inwardly. To think there was someone so arrogant in this world as to attempt catching a flying sword barehanded!
Did the man not know that a magic treasure responded to the user's mind at will? How could it be disarmed barehanded so easily?
Even if his opponent had some trump card, all he needed to do was maneuver around the grab and slash diagonally. That would sever an arm, and then...
With a thought, he steered the flying sword, intending to graze past Luo Chen's face and flank around.
Yet in the very next instant!
The large hand shifted several inches out of thin air, positioning itself squarely before the razor-sharp flying sword.
Then, the five fingers clamped down!
As if possessing sentience, the flying sword's rigid blade suddenly turned supple, slithering past his fingertips like a nimble snake.
Luo Chen looked on calmly. With a twist of his right hand, he coiled the flexible blade into a tight spiral around his forearm, then gave it a gentle jolt.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
The fierce flying sword shattered into countless fragments.
With his lifebound magic treasure destroyed, the Canghai Alliance cultivator suffered a devastating backlash, coughing up a mouthful of blood on the spot.
Without even sparing him a glance, Luo Chen casually flung the sword shards in another direction.
Over there, a dense, miniature mountain was rumbling through the air.
Facing the shards, the mountain pressed on fearlessly.
Yet!
What appeared to be a casual toss from Luo Chen actually carried profound, intricate technique, and he had even experimented with infusing source power into them.
Enveloped in a crimson glow, the dense swarm of shards plunged straight into the miniature mountain.
Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh!
In less than a breath, the fragments sheared through the mountain like a hot blade through bean curd, hurtling directly toward the Moluo Stream cultivator who had deployed the treasure.
That was a cluster of cultivators, about seven or eight gathered together.
The shards pierced the mountain treasure without losing momentum, detonating the moment they reached the crowd.
Answering the explosions was a chorus of terrified shrieks and wails.
Without waiting to see the outcome, Luo Chen stood upon the wooden kite and shot across the battlefield at breakneck speed.
Both sides, who had just been fighting tooth and nail, were brought to a dead halt by his sudden intrusion.
Across that vast expanse of war, it was an exceedingly eerie sight.
On the Canghai Alliance's side, Shang Junshu flew over in haste to check on the pale, blood-spitting middle-aged cultivator who had unleashed the sword earlier.
"Second Uncle, how are you?"
"I'll live, but my lifebound flying sword is destroyed, and my mind has taken a heavy blow. I can't fight any longer." The middle-aged cultivator wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, staring in terror toward the black-robed cultivator. "That's an old monster at the Nascent Soul stage!"
To shatter a magic treasure barehanded and gravely wound seven or eight Moluo Stream Golden Core cultivators in a single strike—aside from a Nascent Soul cultivator, he couldn't imagine who else could achieve such a feat.
Shang Junshu looked in astonishment at the receding back of the black-robed figure. That person clearly radiated the aura of the Golden Core realm!
Though his magic power was domineering and pure, far surpassing their own, it was still far from that of a Nascent Soul old monster.
Yet after staring for a moment longer, a puzzled expression crept onto Shang Junshu's face.
Why did this man give him a faint sense of familiarity?
It felt as if he had seen him somewhere before.
Under Shang Junshu's protection, the middle-aged cultivator withdrew from the front line.
"Young Master, why are you here? Shouldn't you be in the rear, leading our Four Seas Commerce Guild's personnel in organizing logistics?"
The young man might address him as Second Uncle, but he could not disregard family etiquette.
Watching Luo Chen's receding figure with suspicion, Shang Junshu said, "Father has arrived, and I came along with him. He may need to have a talk with the Master of the Sky Rending Stream later."
Shang Junshu's father was none other than Master Sihai, the founder of the Four Seas Commerce Guild.
The middle-aged cultivator asked in pleasant surprise, "The Master has come to the front line in person?"
"Yes. There are certain secrets involved that aren't appropriate to share with you right now. But as long as we win this battle, the sea ahead might become the future headquarters of our Four Seas Commerce Guild."
As Shang Junshu spoke absently, he racked his memory to identify where the familiar feeling came from.
Gradually, a crimson-complexioned face began to overlap with the black-robed cultivator.
*It's him?*
*Has he truly reached such heights?*
Prior to the recent clashes between the righteous and demonic factions, the most sensational news had undoubtedly been that an expert of the Myriad Immortals Association had emerged as the greatest victor of the Sunken Sea secret realm.
And among those rumors, one piece of news had caught Shang Junshu's attention above all else:
The rising star of the Myriad Immortals Association, Demonic Lord Qingyang, had committed the unthinkable by slaying Master Feiyunzi, the lord of Feiyun Ravine!
And this Demonic Lord Qingyang was someone he had interacted with in his earlier years.
Back then, it was at an auction in Feileng City on Lengguang Island.
It was also then that Demonic Lord Qingyang had first made a name for himself in the Northern Sea cultivation world.
In a mere fifty years, a nobody who was fleeing for his life from a pack of Golden Core cultivators had now become an entity far beyond his reach.
A legend of the Northern Sea—a demon lord of his era!
...
Luo Chen's gaze flickered for an instant.
Yet the wooden kite beneath him neither retreated nor dodged, charging straight forward.
A sinister, chilling voice echoed across the battlefield.
"You injure cultivators under my command and think you can leave so easily?"
A colossal power descended like an inescapable shackle from the sky.
It was a Nascent Soul domain!
Accompanying the domain came a pitch-black giant palm of magic power.
Luo Chen gave a cold snort. Within that Nascent Soul domain, crimson light suffused his body, rendering him utterly unhindered. Like a fish swimming through water, he glided through effortlessly.
Then, he slowly drew back his elbow, clenched his fist, and punched outward.
His right arm stretched out like soft clay, veiled in crimson light as it slammed directly into the giant palm of magic power.
Boom!
With just one strike, a gaping hole was punched clean through the giant palm.
Piloting the wooden kite, Luo Chen zipped straight through the opening, calling out in a harsh, cold voice:
"Master of the Sky Rending Stream, you had better worry about how to deal with the Nascent Soul Masters of the Canghai Alliance instead!"
In a concealed spot, a man in a black-and-gold robe looked on with an initial flash of surprise.
This Golden Core junior could actually ignore his Nascent Soul domain.
He even possessed enough power to meet a casual strike from him head-on.
What kind of energy was that bizarre crimson light?
Then his brow furrowed. Nascent Soul Masters of the Canghai Alliance?
It was nothing more than Old Ghost Nanqi. The two of them had been locked in a stalemate in this region for ten years—what was there to worry about?
Yet in the next breath, his expression darkened drastically like clear skies turning to storm clouds.
Three formidable auras, none weaker than his own, surged into the sky from behind the Canghai Alliance.
"Old Ghost Nanqi! Shang Sihai! Madame Mi!"
"How could they appear together at the same time?!"
...
"You seem to be growing increasingly adept at wielding that power!"
Above an endless, surging expanse of sea, the wooden kite sped through the air.
Luo Chen cast a Dragon Slaying Art to purge the trace of magic power that the Master of the Sky Rending Stream had left behind on him earlier. That man was truly insidious, having planted a hidden tracker even while testing him with a casual strike.
Luo Chen did not dispute Han Zhan's observation, offering only a gentle hum in assent.
After his body refinement reached the Fourth Order of the Desolate Ancient, pushing his physical body generated a crimson power that Luo Chen had dubbed "source power."
He had possessed this power for twenty years, but initially had no proper way to utilize it.
He had only grasped a few rudimentary tricks, such as regrowing severed limbs and controlling his body's transformations.
Yet through successive battles in the Land of the Fallen Demon, especially after his physical nirvana in Mingzhaotian, he was now completely certain that this power was not the least bit inferior to a Nascent Soul Master's magic power, and he had comprehended several ways to harness it.
Take just now: even without his second primal core and unable to unleash the Senluo Fire Prison, he could outright disregard the suppression of the Master of the Sky Rending Stream's Nascent Soul domain and mount a calm, composed counterattack.
In the past, he had heard that in ancient times, desolate beasts were the true masters of the Mountain Sea Realm, while humans were hardly nature's favorites.
Looking at it now, the rumors were true.
A Fourth Order desolate beast might not be able to manipulate worldly spiritual energy, but bolstered by source power, it was equally free from the suppression of worldly spiritual energy.
How should one describe this feeling...
It was like the relationship between a fish and the sea.
Humans might be clever, understanding that water could carry a boat or overturn it, and learning to manipulate seawater to their advantage.
Yet a fish was born a creature of the ocean; how could it ever drown in water?
In the past, Luo Chen's view had been obstructed by a single leaf.
He had painstakingly labored over the Senluo Fire Prison, attempting to resist the domain suppression of Nascent Soul cultivators.
Then again, without having walked that path with the Senluo Fire Prison, he would not have realized so easily that source power served the same purpose through a different mechanism.
Luo Chen did not wish to dwell on the subject and chose instead to offer praise.
"Senior, though this wooden kite puppet of yours isn't extravagant, it is truly the fastest flying treasure I have ever seen."
Han Zhan gave a soft laugh. "Naturally. This was crafted personally by the Heaven Refining Demon Lord in his early years. Though its rank isn't particularly high, its value is in no way inferior to that spirit wood puppet I obtained."
That spirit wood puppet was Fourth Order, an existence on par with the Nascent Soul realm!
This wooden kite was actually that remarkable?
Luo Chen raised an eyebrow, but said nothing more.
Relying on his memory, he flew at top speed toward Purple Spirit Island.
He had not hesitated to cut straight through the battlefield between the righteous and demonic factions precisely to save time. If Moon Hermit reached Purple Spirit Island a step ahead of him, he would end up walking straight into an ambush like a hare blundering into a tree trunk.
And he would be the hare.
...
"Purple Spirit Island, Purple Monkey Flower?"
Within the Myriad Immortals Association.
Moon Hermit slowly withdrew her hand.
Across from her, Duan Li, who had always possessed a gentle and genial demeanor, now looked dull-eyed and vacant, his aura feeble and depleted.
Empress Zi said cautiously, "The Angler's testimony also confirms what we got from Duan Li. Demonic Lord Qingyang indeed vanished for a year or two without explanation after the mission at Withered Wood Ridge. The timeline matches up completely. But why would Demonic Lord Qingyang want a poisonous bloom like the Purple Monkey Flower?"
Why?
Moon Hermit did not know.
Yet she knew that someone who invested so much effort—clearing out demon beasts, laying down an island-encircling formation, and painstakingly cultivating the Purple Monkey Flower—undoubtedly had a purpose.
And he certainly would not abandon what was there easily.
She flicked her sleeve and turned to walk out of the dungeon.
Empress Zi followed behind. "Master, how should we handle Duan Li?"
"He is a mid Golden Core cultivator after all, with a solid foundation. Keep him. I am short on hands right now. Though I have searched his soul, he can still fight."
"And the disciples and sect members of the Tusang Sect?"
"Kill them," Moon Hermit said indifferently.
Empress Zi acknowledged the order, then asked again, "What of the Zhang family on Cailian Island?"
Moon Hermit waved a dismissive hand. "Kill them as well. But spare the Zhou woman—consider it a courtesy to the Zhou family of the Coral Sea."
Empress Zi's expression turned somber as she respectfully bowed her head in agreement.
Internally, she thought to herself that the Master truly detested Demonic Lord Qingyang. Practically everyone connected to him was condemned with a single word: kill.
Upon reflection, it was only natural she would despise him.
She did not know what had transpired inside Mingzhaotian, but Demonic Lord Qingyang had indeed snatched the Penglai Octagonal Pavilion right out from under her and the Angler.
That treasure was something Moon Hermit had specifically demanded.
Moon Hermit was so fixated on Demonic Lord Qingyang now presumably to reclaim the Penglai Octagonal Pavilion.
This suited Empress Zi just fine.
If Qingyang never returned and the Zhang family was slaughtered, the Eight-Hundred-Li Penghu Lake that had been painstakingly developed would become ownerless property, leaving her free to reap the harvest.
...
The wooden kite was extraordinarily swift.
When Luo Chen had traveled from Withered Wood Ridge to Purple Spirit Island in the past, it had taken him a full half-year; this time, he arrived in under a month.
Part of this was certainly due to his confidence in his own strength, allowing him to plow straight ahead without taking any detours, but the wooden kite's contribution was also undeniable.
Gazing at the seemingly empty expanse of sea, Luo Chen's eyes shone with spiritual light. In the next moment, an island enveloped in a faint spiritual glow came into view.
It was the concealment formation he had set up back then!
Without the Seven Star Islands providing cover, Purple Spirit Island was far less hidden.
Had it not been for this island-protecting grand formation he had left behind, there was no telling how many cultivators and demon beasts it would have attracted.
Luo Chen waited quietly outside in hiding.
Not until Han Zhan's voice spoke up did he move.
"Other than a late Foundation Establishment cultivator, there is no one else on the island. It seems Moon Hermit hasn't come to catch you yet."
Luo Chen breathed a sigh of relief.
Good!
As for that Foundation Establishment cultivator, he was not surprised.
Back then, Sang Jiugong had said that cultivating the Purple Monkey Flowers would require dedicated caretakers during their growth. The cultivator on the island was likely a Tusang Sect disciple sent by him.
With a slight smile, Luo Chen ceased concealing his presence and stepped directly onto Purple Spirit Island.
...
The simple cave dwelling Luo Chen had once excavated was now meticulously arranged.
Mind-calming Moonlight Grass and spirit-refining, Qi-gathering Pale Spirit Flowers grew in corners of the dwelling.
Such an arrangement showed that the cultivator residing here had intended to stay for the long haul.
Looking at the honest, middle-aged man before him—who appeared older than Luo Chen himself—Luo Chen nodded in satisfaction.
"Jinghe, you have worked hard all these years."
Sang Jinghe stood respectfully opposite him, his face filled with flattered surprise. He had never expected Senior Qingyangzi to arrive before the Purple Monkey Flowers had even matured.
Moreover, the senior had offered such high praise for his work.
"It was no trouble at all. It is only my duty. Before Third Grandfather passed away, he gave special instructions that I must tend to the Purple Monkey Flowers here with the utmost care. This junior has not dared to slacken for a single day."
Luo Chen smiled, though a trace of regret lingered in his expression.
Sang Jiugong had passed away.
Ten years after Luo Chen left the Myriad Immortals Association, the elder had departed the world when his lifespan came to an end.
For a Golden Core cultivator, that was considered a good ending.
It was only a pity that he hadn't been able to see him one last time before his passing.
He still remembered their final meeting on Tusang Island, an island covered in spiritual mulberry trees, where the old man had warmly hosted him and guided him to enjoy the island's sights.
It was during that trip that Sang Jiugong had made a point of introducing this junior, Sang Jinghe, to him.
He was not of Sang Jiugong's direct bloodline, and their relation was rather distant.
Yet he was genuinely the only kin that Sang Jiugong—a man with no family left—had outside his disciples and sect members.
Not only did they share a sliver of blood, but Sang Jinghe had also inherited Sang Jiugong's spiritual botany arts.
In a sense, Sang Jiugong's legacy lived on.
The old man had arranged for him to come here, far away from the Tusang Sect, where he had lived for nearly thirty years now.
To other cultivators, this might have seemed like an exile.
Yet in Luo Chen's eyes, it was Sang Jiugong's deep, protective love for his younger kin before his death.
It kept him far from the conflicts of the cultivation world, while allowing him to earn Luo Chen's goodwill through the merit of tending to the Purple Monkey Flowers.
Now that his old friend was gone, Luo Chen was more than willing to look after the man's descendant.
After all, that was also one of their agreements back then.
Thus, after exchanging a few pleasantries, Luo Chen cut straight to the chase.
"I will be taking all the Purple Monkey Flowers on Purple Spirit Island right now!"
"Ah!" Sang Jinghe started. "B-but those venomous blooms haven't matured yet! Even though I've used the ripening spiritual fluid Third Grandfather gave me, by any estimate, it will still take at least another ten years."
Luo Chen raised his eyebrows. Ten years faster than the originally estimated fifty years?
He did not delve into the reasons behind the shift, simply continuing, "After transplanting the spirit herbs here, I will not be returning to the Myriad Immortals Association. Instead, I plan to head elsewhere. Would you be willing to leave with me?"
Sang Jinghe was dumbfounded once more.
The Tusang Sect was still over at the Myriad Immortals Association.
According to Third Grandfather's final words, as long as he completed this mission, he could return to inherit the position of sect leader of the Tusang Sect.
And now, Master Qingyangzi wanted to take him away?
For a moment, he fell into hesitation.
Luo Chen did not press him. Instead, he left the cave dwelling and walked over to the sinkhole where the Purple Monkey Flowers were being cultivated.
Whoosh...
As a gentle breeze blew past, an octagonal pavilion slowly manifested, hovering above the sinkhole.
Chapter 703