Holding Court

A pillar of light surged up from beneath Wei Yuan's hammer, shooting straight into the heavens. Within the beam, a shadowy tiger roared to the sky. Though silent, it radiated overwhelming majesty. Even though the Power Shamans present were battle-hardened veterans who tumbled daily between life and death, most trembled in their hearts at this sight. Though this shadowy tiger was not quite a sacred beast or divine creature, it came very close. Having developed such spirituality, the blade could be used all the way to late Scenery Command. Only two of the Desolate Shamans in Fengmang Fortress possessed weapons of comparable quality. Mad Bull lifted the saber with trembling hands, feeling the shadowy tiger roaming within the metal. A natural bond had formed between them, allowing him to faintly sense the tiger's joys and sorrows. The mere awakening of spirituality in the blade had already thrown Mad Bull into ecstasies, but forming an innate connection with that spirit filled him with a joy so intense it felt as though he might burst. With this, he could clear many bottlenecks on the path to Scenery Command in the future, vastly improving his chances of breaking through to Desolate Shaman. Mad Bull had no idea what to say. Suddenly, with a loud thump, he dropped to his knees and boomed, "You saved my blade and granted me the grace of enlightenment! Old Bull, I..." Aside from this single saber, Mad Bull possessed nothing of value. Nor was he gifted with words; the extent of his vocabulary consisted mostly of foul curses directed at demons. In his frantic desperation, all he could do was kowtow again and again, slamming his head against the ground until the stone cracked. A strand of advanced karmic luck descended into Wei Yuan's sea of consciousness. Only then did Wei Yuan nod inwardly; this venture had not been at a loss. Having made a start proved that this path was viable, and an endless stream of karmic luck would follow. Seeing Mad Bull still kowtowing with all his might, several Power Shamans stepped forward to pull him up, only to be tossed aside by him. Wei Yuan walked over and extended a hand to support him, instantly preventing Mad Bull from kowtowing further. Mad Bull exerted his strength several times, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't touch the ground. Only then did he look up, staring at Wei Yuan in shock. Wei Yuan said calmly, "This blade has fought and bled alongside you through countless battles, slaying enemies and saving your comrades over the years. The merits it has accumulated were won through your own toil. Today, I merely awakened the spirituality latent within it, acting as nothing more than a catalyst. The true source of that spirituality remains yourself." Mad Bull had never heard anyone speak like this before. According to the customs of the Desolate Tongue, Wei Yuan should have thrown his head back and laughed wildly at this moment, fiercely boasting of himself first, then belittling Mad Bull without mercy, and finally throwing in some contempt for every Power Shaman in the fortress—not sparing the Desolate Shamans either, except perhaps Ronglong. Yet here was Wei Yuan claiming he wasn't particularly remarkable? A sudden flash of inspiration struck Mad Bull's mind. If this Wei Yuan wasn't remarkable, how could he have known about the profound spirituality hidden within the blade, and how could he have awakened it? The previous artifact refiner had been a fraud, not worth mentioning. But the one before that had been a true master, so why hadn't even he noticed it? There were several Desolate Shamans in the fortress, including Lord Ronglong, yet none of them had detected any spirituality within the blade. Only Wei Yuan had not only perceived it, but also awakened a spiritual entity as close to a sacred beast as a shadowy tiger! Mad Bull felt as though he understood something, yet also as though he didn't. In short, the groundhog before him instantly grew toweringly vast in his eyes—practically a majestic groundhog mountain! This time, Mad Bull pulled free from Wei Yuan's hands and kowtowed once with utter earnestness and profound reverence. A strand of karmic luck with a pure crimson core and a pure golden-yellow outer rim descended into Wei Yuan's sea of consciousness. Among the karmic luck of dharma-idol-level Power Shamans, this was the absolute peak, purer even than those of Hunter Thirty-One and Zhengang. Wei Yuan estimated that even if he ordered Mad Bull to kill himself right now, the shaman would probably comply without a second thought. Looking at this strand of karmic luck, Wei Yuan sighed inwardly with a twinge of guilt. In truth, there had been no need for Mad Bull to shed so much blood; the tempering could have succeeded without it. However, had Mad Bull not paid such a steep price, his obsession wouldn't have burned so fiercely, making it difficult to draw out the karmic luck and karmic debt latent in the blade, and Wei Yuan would have had to expend several times more azure qi and sacrificial power to awaken it. Mad Bull's obsession with this blade ran incomparably deep. He had almost bled himself to death, but the outcome had been surprisingly splendid. Moreover, the spectating Power Shamans had contributed several strands of karmic luck to Wei Yuan as well. Mad Bull clutched the blade, refusing to let go, yet an awkward look appeared on his face as he faced Wei Yuan. This saber weighed over a thousand jin, and its entire substance had transformed into Flame God iron, rendering it priceless beyond measure. Mad Bull possessed nothing of value and had no way to offer an adequate reward. Nor did his life belong to him; it belonged to Fengmang Fortress. How could he ever repay a treasure like this? This dilemma caused Mad Bull's temperature to soar immediately. Wei Yuan smiled slightly and said, "Think nothing of it. Since I have come to Fengmang, this is simply my duty." The moment the words left his mouth, Wei Yuan realized he had unconsciously slipped back into the human way of speaking. By the conventions of the Desolate Tongue, since his counterpart had bowed his head, Wei Yuan ought to have bragged fiercely about himself. The higher he placed himself, the more dignity the opponent preserved in submitting. To refrain from bragging at such a moment was practically denying the opponent face. Still, Wei Yuan felt a degree of shame over the thought, and after turning it over in his mind, he simply couldn't bring himself to boast like that. None of the Power Shamans had expected such an answer from Wei Yuan, and for a moment, silence fell over the yard. Wei Yuan felt a little uneasy, wondering if his identity had been exposed. By all rights, the outer layer of flesh and bone covering his body—a palm's breadth thick—belonged entirely to a shaman, while his human core had shrunk into a ball, concealed deep within like an unborn babe. If they could see through even this, Wei Yuan would just have to accept his fate. Yet after that brief silence, the Power Shamans suddenly erupted. The terrifying wall of sound almost blew off the stone roof slabs, which weighed tens of thousands of jin. "Groundhog, look at my weapon!" "Master Groundhog, how can my axe be repaired?" "Mad Bull, get out of the way! I want the divine rodent to take a look at my spear..." The Power Shamans jostled and vied with one another, none willing to fall behind for fear that Wei Yuan might tire and close shop for the day. Pushing and shoving with all their might, their roars were mingled with odd, bizarre noises. Some shamans grew visibly excited from all the squeezing—males, females, and intersex alike. Several strands of karmic luck drifted down, making Wei Yuan feel that these noisy Power Shamans were quite endearing rather than a headache. Even if they used the Desolate Roar to argue, he wouldn't mind. Right at that moment, a strand of karmic luck alternating in gold and red, surrounded by rings of radiant rainbow light, quietly descended. Wei Yuan started slightly. It turned out a Desolate Shaman had been lurking outside all along. That shaman had likely watched the entire process, unaware that their karmic luck had betrayed their presence. Though this strand of Desolate Shaman karmic luck was also at the elementary stage, it was visibly distinct from the other Desolate Shaman karmic luck Wei Yuan possessed. From time to time, it bloomed with a ring of rainbow brilliance, clearly no ordinary thing. Could it be Ronglong? Wei Yuan quickly dismissed the thought. Ronglong had long since cultivated into an old fox; how could his karmic luck be gained so easily? Take Tianyu, for instance—after all these years, Wei Yuan hadn't reaped a single strand of karmic luck from him. All of that fellow's luck had probably been squandered on various shaman beauties. Since that Desolate Shaman showed no intention of showing themself, Wei Yuan simply feigned ignorance and began inspecting the Power Shamans' arms and armor. "Gray Wolf, the damage on your saber isn't severe, but it doesn't quite suit your combat techniques. It needs some adjustments..." A strand of karmic luck. "Black Back, this axe is only corroded on the surface, which might not look serious, but the material itself is poor. You'd be better off replacing it..." A strand of karmic luck. ... Most of the Power Shamans in this squad belonged to canine breeds. A pack of hounds stood watching a groundhog hold court over the realm. "Tianyuan, you're actually very clever, and your dharmic form is strong. There's no need to pick a heavy weapon just because of your small build. Switching to a bow and arrows would make you far deadlier..." A strand of advanced karmic luck. ... More and more Power Shamans lined up outside the courtyard, yet complete silence reigned. Every ear on their bodies pricked up, listening intently to the groundhog expounding the Dao and explaining the techniques within the courtyard. In their minds, this was truly a sermon on the Dao. Even listening to Wei Yuan advise other shamans yielded tremendous insights. After all, canine breeds had much in common. On this day, the groundhog held court over the Great Desolation, reaping countless strands of karmic luck.