Dark clouds hung low, the wind soughing chill, churning waves of pine across the valleys.
The Songtao Mountain Range undulated for a full three thousand li.
It was the ancestral cradle of the Feng clan, a Nascent Soul lineage.
Countless towering pines stood tall amidst the peaks, and whenever gale-force winds swept past, the whispering needles surged in ceaseless waves like a vast ocean.
On this day, the roar of surging waves rose once more across the boundless pine forests.
Listen closely, however, and it was not the wind lashing the trees, but streaks of escaping light rising one after another, soaring into the sky from amidst the wooded mountains.
A colossal cloud boat hovered in the void, waiting in silence.
Moments later, three figures appeared together.
Without a second thought, tens of thousands of cultivators bowed in unison toward the leader among the three.
"Greetings, Supreme Elder!"
Feng Buyan stroked his beard, regarding the sight with satisfaction.
"Fellow Daoist Ning, Fellow Daoist Yang, what do you think of my Feng clan's young men?"
Seeing this, an elder with a goatee praised, "High morale, brimming with confidence, carrying an unyielding pride. Brother Feng, you have truly managed this Feng clan well!"
Feng Buyan let out a hearty laugh. "The Great Dao is arduous, and progress has ground to a halt; this Feng can only turn his mind to fostering the younger generation."
As he spoke, he glanced at the other man, who was bald.
Dressed in white monastic robes, the monk had a slender frame yet an exceptionally handsome countenance.
Were it not for the ordination scars atop his head, he would undoubtedly pass for a rare handsome man of the mortal realm.
At this moment, his eyelids drooped low, seemingly blind to the grand spectacle of ten thousand cultivators riding the clouds and mist, as though it could not stir the slightest bit of interest in him.
Feng Buyan frowned slightly. Rather than seeking the monk's praise, he swept his large hand forward.
"Lads, set forth!"
"Destination: Wind-Thunder Gorge!"
At his command, the thousands of Feng clan disciples answered in unison.
"Acknowledged!"
The thunderous cry was so immense it pressed down the vast pines stretching across the hills.
One cloud boat after another surged to life, streaks of light answering one another in front and behind as they swiftly advanced toward the not-so-distant Wind-Thunder Gorge.
Aboard the largest cloud boat at the center, Feng Buyan briefed the two helpers he had invited on the general situation of Wind-Thunder Gorge.
"Originally, that place was territory belonging to my Feng clan. However, due to its treacherous terrain and lack of any noteworthy produce, our clan rarely dispatched anyone to oversee it.
"Around several centuries ago, some desperate outlaws hid within, gradually coalescing into a substantial force.
"That brat Minglei is one of them.
"His realm is not particularly high—merely newly entered into the Nascent Soul realm. When the time comes, the three of us will strike together, and we can subdue him in the blink of an eye!"
Daoist Yang stroked his goatee, puzzled. "From what you say, Brother Feng, why would a mere early Nascent Soul cultivator require the three of us to join forces?"
Feng Buyan smiled. "Cave Master Minglei is nothing to fear, but Wind-Thunder Gorge is exceedingly treacherous. Furthermore, its peculiar topography subtly resonates with him. If we truly battle him inside, even with my fourth-layer Nascent Soul cultivation, unexpected mishaps could easily occur. Moreover..."
At this point, a prudent look surfaced on his face.
"After conceiving his Nascent Soul, this man went on a journey and reportedly befriended quite a few experts. He even attended an exchange gathering hosted by powerful figures from the Fierce Peak Zombie Alliance. My only fear is that he might invite some troublesome characters, introducing unwelcome variables to this venture."
Hearing the name "Fierce Peak Zombie Alliance," Daoist Yang could not help but suck in a sharp breath of cold air.
"Is it that very Fierce Peak Zombie Alliance that opposes the Life and Death Gate, constantly provoking them in recent years and steadily annexing many of their outlying territories?"
Feng Buyan nodded with a grave expression. "Indeed! It seems Brother Yang also knows of this faction that mysteriously rose to power within the past three centuries!"
Daoist Yang's expression shifted slightly. "How could I not? Word has it they harbor countless experts, with as many as ten Nascent Soul cultivators like us. Moreover, those people possess eccentric temperaments; they refrain from action until provoked, but once they strike, they unleash everything to kill without mercy. They are truly impossible to deal with."
Cultivators of the Southern Border were already known for their eccentricities.
For a native like Daoist Yang to describe them in such terms showed just how twisted and aberrant the powerhouses within the Fierce Peak Zombie Alliance truly were.
The hitherto taciturn white-robed monk, however, piqued with curiosity at this moment, spoke up: "This humble monk has been in the Southern Border for some time, yet I have never heard of this Fierce Peak Zombie Alliance. Just how formidable is their influence? The Life and Death Gate is the sole Soul Formation sacred ground in the Southern Border. What gives the Fierce Peak Zombie Alliance the backing to repeatedly provoke them?"
Feng Buyan and Daoist Yang exchanged a glance, speaking one after the other.
"What backing they possess, we do not know either."
"Yet their deeds have indeed long exceeded the imagination of ordinary sects. You likely know of the Southern Ocean—also called the Gu Ocean, the cradle where many rare gu insects are bred. And now, one of the three safe entrances into the Southern Ocean has been occupied by them. Bear in mind, those three major entrances to the Southern Ocean have always been controlled by the Life and Death Gate."
Upon hearing that an entrance to the Southern Ocean had fallen under the control of the Fierce Peak Zombie Alliance, a flicker of an unusual expression crossed the white-robed monk's face.
While the three conversed, the Feng clan's army drew ever closer to Wind-Thunder Gorge.
A distance of ten thousand li was immensely long for low-tier cultivators, but powered by an armada of cloud boats, they arrived at the expansive plains outside Wind-Thunder Gorge in merely half a day.
Boom!
Amidst roaring booms, cloud boats landed on the plain one after another, kicking up clouds of dust.
Massive war drums were brought out, and as bare-chested burly men pounded them relentlessly, high-spirited battle rhythms reverberated across the land.
Dong! Dong! Dong!
The rolling war drums echoed deep into the craggy Wind-Thunder Gorge.
Even rogue cultivators deep in seclusion were jolted awake.
Silent figures filed out from their cave dwellings, and after exchanging glances, they retrieved their magic treasures and took up positions across the gorge's strategic redoubts.
Cave Master Minglei had long warned them of the Feng clan's covetous designs on Wind-Thunder Gorge:
"If you wish to return to drifting across the world as destitute rogue cultivators without a spot to stand on, you are welcome to leave.
"But if you wish to continue cultivating here in Wind-Thunder Gorge, free and unfettered, subject to no one's rule, then you must do your part.
"When the great enemy arrives, should any of you cower in your caves, regardless of the battle's outcome, this Cave Master will not tolerate your presence afterward!"
This was their fair warning beforehand.
Either pitch in together, or get lost.
Those hoping to reap the benefits without lifting a finger could await a reckoning after the war!
With the divine sense of a Nascent Soul cultivator, sensing the stirrings within Wind-Thunder Gorge was effortless.
Feng Buyan shook his head. "They still refuse to come out and fight; they plan to hole up and defend the gorge to the death."
The war drums continued to rumble, yet met no response.
To take Wind-Thunder Gorge, it seemed they had no choice but to force their way in.
Feng Buyan glanced at his kin and descendants under his command; though brimming with fighting spirit, a faint dread lingered in their eyes, leaving him torn.
Forcing their way inside would cost who knew how many lives of the Feng clan's sons!
Daoist Yang, a faction leader in his own right, noticed his misgivings and smiled as he suggested, "Why don't the three of us strike together to force Cave Master Minglei out? He is the common master of the thirty-six caves of Wind-Thunder Gorge. If he falls, the remaining rogue cultivators will be nothing more than a disorganized rabble and surely won't put up stubborn resistance. That would spare your Feng clan's descendants many casualties."
Feng Buyan's eyes lit up.
"Excellent!"
Then, without waiting for the white-robed monk's agreement, he stepped forward from the crowd.
"Allow this old man to strike first!"
Under the gaze of ten thousand onlookers, he produced a magnificent feather fan and channeled his magic power into it.
With a violent wave, he fanned toward Wind-Thunder Gorge.
Whoosh...
A massive tornado manifested out of thin air, tearing into Wind-Thunder Gorge with unstoppable momentum.
Just then—
Crack!
A thunderbolt as thick as a bucket crashed down abruptly, striking the tornado dead-center and shattering it in an instant.
Feng Buyan's divine sense swept outward, locking onto the attacker at once.
"Cave Master Minglei, you are also an expert of a region. Hiding like a coward hardly befits the dignity of a Perfected Person!"
From within Wind-Thunder Gorge came the rolling rumble of thunder.
"Right, you're the one with dignity, bringing the fight right to another's doorstep."
Feng Buyan chuckled heartily. "Since ancient times, Wind-Thunder Gorge has been the territory of my Feng clan; you merely nested like cuckoos in another's nest. In the past, considering how hard it is for low-tier rogue cultivators to cultivate, this old man tolerated you. But now that you have achieved the Nascent Soul realm, you must understand that one cannot let another sleep soundly beside one's own bed. Leave of your own accord, and we can still part on civil terms."
Cave Master Minglei sneered. "A fine 'since ancient times'! If you want Wind-Thunder Gorge, come in and take it!"
Feng Buyan's expression hardened.
"Do you truly think this old man dares not enter?"
Mid-sentence, his figure vanished abruptly.
When he reappeared, he was already suspended within Wind-Thunder Gorge.
With a light flick of his feather fan, the bone-scraping, flesh-piercing blade winds parted before him, coalescing instead into a surging whirlwind that lashed toward a certain point.
Cave Master Minglei manifested in an instant. His chest and abdomen expanded slightly as he exhaled and barked, "Disperse!"
A sudden thunderclap shattered the whirlwind once more.
Not only that, streaks of lightning snaked out from the void, converging into brilliant beams that rained down toward Feng Buyan.
Feng Buyan sneered. His figure vanished from the spot, causing the beams of lightning to strike empty air like headless flies.
"Too slow!"
Yet in the next breath, a figure appeared right behind him, a flying sword thrusting straight toward the center of his back.
Feng Buyan's expression changed slightly, and he hastily shifted his form again.
Yet the flying sword followed like a shadow. What was more, Cave Master Minglei's figure clung to him relentlessly.
With every pursuit and evasion, lightning flickered and danced without pause.
"Impossible! How could you keep pace with my movement technique?"
Flustered and enraged, Feng Buyan could hardly believe it.
He took the utmost pride in his evasion arts; his confidence in laying claim to Wind-Thunder Gorge was rooted in his ability to advance or retreat at will.
But if even his movement technique was seen through, then Wind-Thunder Gorge had truly become the enemy's home ground.
Cave Master Minglei said nothing, merely tailing him relentlessly while unleashing wave after wave of attacks, drawing down thunder from the heavens.
Viewed from the outside, Wind-Thunder Gorge currently appeared as though a heavenly tribulation had descended upon it.
Although the individual attacks were not overwhelmingly destructive, their dizzying frequency was staggering.
Each occasional strike covered Feng Buyan in arcs of silver-white lightning.
Even though he purged them quickly with magic power, the creeping numbness in his body was causing his energy circulation to grow sluggish.
At this rate, let alone suffering defeat, whether he could escape with his life would become an open question.
Suddenly!
"Fellow Daoists, if you do not act now, what are you waiting for?!"
From the void came a sigh.
"For a rogue cultivator to reach such heights is truly astonishing. Alas, failing to discern the times, you are destined to perish here today. What a pity, what a pity."
Daoist Yang lamented as he revealed himself, jabbing a wooden staff toward Cave Master Minglei.
The staff shimmered with motes of cyan light, obviously extraordinary, and as it thrust forward, it carried a piercing, bone-chilling sharpness.
Cave Master Minglei's expression shifted slightly, yet he did not employ the Flashing Thunder Art to evade by force, merely watching as the wooden staff pointed straight at him.
Seeing this, Daoist Yang could not help but feel a twinge of suspicion.
So bold—could he still have another card to play?
In the next instant, an unforeseen shift occurred!
A cyan giant hand, wreathed in wind and thunder, manifested abruptly out of the void, sheltering above Cave Master Minglei's head.
Then, with an irresistible momentum, it seized straight toward the razor-sharp wooden staff, closing its grip around it!
"A helper?"
The doubt in Daoist Yang's heart was answered, yet it did not catch him off guard; Feng Buyan had brought up this possibility before they set out.
A cold sneer merely touched his lips.
Nourished for centuries, his treasured staff had long reached the tier of a True Artifact.
Had his opponent met it with a magic treasure, it might have held out.
But trying to catch it with a bare hand was pure suicide!
In his sight, the wooden staff and the giant hand finally collided.
Thump!
A strange sound resonated as ripples spread through the air.
Daoist Yang's heart trembled. "Wrong!"
He attempted to yank his treasured staff back, yet an unmatched titanic strength held it fast; no matter how desperately he channeled his magic power, he could not recall his natal magic treasure.
Realizing a dreadful possibility, his eyes nearly tore at the corners.
"Don't!"
"Hmph!"
A cold snort rang out from the void.
In the next instant, the cyan giant hand clamped shut.
Snap!
"Take it back!"
Two streaks of light flew back at him.
Daoist Yang frantically dodged aside. When he finally steadied himself, he could no longer suppress the agony tearing through his divine soul.
Opening his mouth, he spat—
"Pfft!"
A mouthful of blood rich in surging magic power burst forth.
Only then did the two streaks of light reveal their true form, tumbling desolately: his natal treasured staff!
In a single clash, his treasure had been snapped cleanly in two?!
Terrified, Daoist Yang looked toward the newcomer.
A man clad in black armor, crowned with a yellow coronet and golden plumes, stood aloft in the void. Though wind and thunder raged fiercely around him, none could touch his body. A pair of black eyes looked upon him with indifference, bordering on disdain.
"Who are you?" Daoist Yang asked instinctively, shocked and furious.
The black-armored man relaxed his fist and said flatly, "This seat never alters his name, standing or sitting: I am Baxiu Qi Tian!"
When walking the pugilistic world, an identity was whatever one gave oneself.
And when backed by commensurate strength, its conviction was beyond doubt.
Even Cave Master Minglei, who had previously met Luo Chen, could not stop his eyelids from twitching violently.
He knew of Daoist Yang, a veteran Nascent Soul cultivator.
Yet in a single exchange, his natal magic treasure had been ruined in the man's grasp.
Just how high had this Qi Tian's body refinement reached?
For now, he had no time to ponder such things, calling out loudly instead, "Feng Buyan, this is the helper I invited. How does he compare to the ones you brought?"
Feng Buyan's lips went dry as he looked at Daoist Yang, who had retreated to his side.
The latter shook his head in terror.
"This man is terrifyingly ferocious, impossible to face with brute force!"
"No!" Feng Buyan said sharply. "We still have one more person!"
Right at that moment, a majestic saber qi slashed across the void from beyond the gorge!
Luo Chen spun around abruptly, bringing his hands together without hesitation.
In the void, two giant hands manifested at once, clamping down tightly on the saber qi between their palms.
Yet this saber qi was exceedingly strange: two diametrically opposed forces erupted ceaselessly within it, gradually eroding the giant hands formed from Luo Chen's source power.
Luo Chen's brow raised. "Demonic qi? Buddhist qi?"
Then, his expression turned fiercely ruthless.
"I don't care what kind of qi you have!"
The source power within his body surged out majestically.
His fleshly palms expanded continuously, merging into one with the giant hands of source power.
Like millstones grinding down, he gave a crushing twist of his palms.
Boom!
The terrifying saber qi shattered instantly.
Not only that, Luo Chen unleashed a wrathful palm strike outward toward the mouth of the gorge.
An earth-shattering palm spanning hundreds of zhang tore through the void, like the hand of world's end descending upon ants on the ground.
A bell chimed.
Dong...
The deep, lingering chime reverberated without end.
When the giant palm dispersed and the dust cleared, an elegant, white-robed figure came into view.
Luo Chen flew slowly out of Wind-Thunder Gorge, his gaze fixed on the white-robed monk.
"Tell me your name!"
Chapter 937