Making a Move

A Level 1 Wind Mage could only condense a single wind blade. With each level gained, the number of blades doubled; at Level 6, a Gale Walker could summon a full thirty-two. *Bang! Bang! Bang!* As wind blades crisscrossed the room, furniture shattered into splinters, and the man in the peaked cap was shredded like a phantom bubble. *Star Illusion?* Wings of the Wind God's brow twitched. The next instant, he saw the man in the cap reappear directly in front of him, clutching a dagger in his left hand and a gun in his right, raising the barrel to fire. The handsome and elegant Wings of the Wind God felt an instinctive flash of danger. Ignoring the enemy and the gunfire directly ahead, he thrust his hand out to the right. The rushing air howled together, solidifying into a wall of wind. A Saint-stage skill: Wind Wall! Wind Wall was a Wind Mage's sole defensive ability, formed of high-velocity airflow. The faster a blade or bullet moved against it, the stronger the deflection. Its weakness was that against heavy, slow weapons, the defensive effect was feeble. *Bang! Bang!* Two deafening gunshots rang out—not from the front, but from the right. Two brass bullet heads collided with the high-speed wall of air and ricocheted away in an instant. One embedded itself into the ceiling; the other tore through the bedding with a dull *thwack* and vanished from sight. Though a Wind Mage could not resist illusion magic, they could sense an enemy's true position through subtle shifts in airflow. With the gunshots, the illusion broke on its own, and the man in the peaked cap materialized on the right. Wings of the Wind God looked neither at the stray bullets nor at his foe. Clamping one hand onto Jia Feizhang's shoulder to keep him pinned in the chair, he thrust his other hand violently upward. *Whoosh—* The airflow within the bedroom turned instantly tempestuous. A hurricane erupted from the floor, hurtling shattered furniture, quilts, computers, and everything else straight toward the ceiling. In such an enclosed, all-encompassing onslaught, the enemy had nowhere to hide. This was an isolation artifact specially prepared to counter Night Walkers. Among the major classes, there was no shortage of items possessing sealing and binding properties; no class had an invulnerable escape technique. The man in the cap was hurled into the ceiling alongside the debris, striking it with a heavy crash. Wings of the Wind God immediately activated his wind blades, summoning thirty-two razor-sharp edges capable of cutting metal and splitting jade, and with a casual wave, hurled them at his airborne enemy. *Squelch! Squelch! Squelch! Squelch...* Pinned against the ceiling, the man in the peaked cap disintegrated beneath the wind blades. Severed limbs and internal organs rained down, slapping onto the floorboards with wet thuds. *Hm?* Wings of the Wind God was momentarily taken aback. Although he was supremely confident in the power of his wind blades, dispatching the enemy so cleanly and effortlessly was somewhat unexpected. *The enemy didn't even have a decent defensive artifact?* Wings of the Wind God focused his gaze on the severed limbs strewn across the floor. The flesh was ghastly pale, the organs a dark, dull hue, without a single drop of fresh blood. Amidst the mangled flesh rolled a palm-sized disc inscribed with constellations. *This...* Wings of the Wind God's expression shifted slightly. Just then, a chilly, sinister gust of wind swept toward the bald, middle-aged Jia Feizhang. With no time to think, Wings of the Wind God whipped out a badge bearing a lightning sigil and slapped it onto Jia Feizhang's chest. *Sizzle—* Bright blue electrical arcs danced across Jia Feizhang's body, repelling the sinister wind. The lightning element was supremely masculine and pure yang, possessing an immense suppressing power over spiritual bodies and vengeful wraiths. Wings of the Wind God pulled out a blue-and-red cloak, gave it a snap, and draped it over his shoulders. In an instant, brilliant blue light surged in his eye sockets, and a lightning mark surfaced on his brow. Crackling arcs of electricity leapt and bounced around his frame. Wings of the Wind God did not strike immediately. Watching the sinister wind whirl frantically around the bedroom, he said in an elegant, calm tone: "Using a yin corpse to impersonate your true body is indeed a clever trick. Across all the classes, very few can handle spiritual bodies. If the mission failed, you could simply abandon the yin corpse and retreat at your leisure. "When I saw you use Star Escape earlier, even I fell for it. But knowing you were a high-tier Night Walker, how could we have come unprepared?" As he spoke, he coalesced a whip of lightning. *Snap!* Sparks scattered in all directions as ionized air crackled across the room. That sinister wind darted about like an ant on a hot pan, desperate to escape but unable to break out, eager to possess a vessel yet constantly repelled by the lightning energy. It could only watch helplessly as the lightning whip struck it again and again, its aura withering at an alarming rate. As Wings of the Wind God lashed with the lightning whip, he waged psychological warfare: "Waiting for your comrades to bail you out? Heh, I already told you—knowing you were a Starlord, how could we not be prepared? Your Dominator companion has already been intercepted by our Alliance Leader and elders. "They say Starlords are cunning and underhanded, and it seems the rumors are true. If your true body had come, backed by artifacts, yin corpses, and wraiths, killing you might have taken some real effort. "As for now? Savor your wait for death and welcome your end." Suddenly, a sharp dagger plunged into Wings of the Wind God's chest. His pupils contracted violently. His body froze, and the motion of swinging his whip ground to an abrupt halt. Wings of the Wind God turned his head in utter disbelief, staring at Jia Feizhang, whom he had shielded the entire time. The corner of the bald man's mouth curved upward, his eyes dripping with malice and amusement. "Who told you we came alone?" "Y-You're..." Wings of the Wind God clutched his chest, stumbling backward. "You're the spirit servant from before? No, you're a Starlord too." He understood now. There had been two Starlords hiding in that yin corpse—two spiritual bodies. One of them had possessed Jia Feizhang right at the very beginning, seizing his body and devouring his soul and memories. The subsequent conversation, and the gestures of the man in the peaked cap pretending to recall his spirit servant, had all been a performance to fool him as he hid by the window. Jia Feizhang smiled. "Trying to out-scheme a Starlord? Are you half-asleep? Heh, only you foreign idiots would dare. In the Second District, nobody tries that kind of game against a Starlord." Wings of the Wind God's face turned livid. Disregarding the wound in his chest, he raised both hands forcefully, whipping up a hurricane to swallow everything in sight. *** Inside the dessert shop, Zhang Yuanqing pondered quietly: *The First District doesn't produce Night Walkers. Was this Starlord talent recruited by Heaven's Punishment, or did they come from the Second District? If the latter, are they a Starlord from the Taiyi Sect, or Dark Night Rose?* *Well, I shouldn't jump to conclusions. Ever since the prophecy of the Compass of Light surfaced, major organizations have been deliberately recruiting Night Walkers. It's entirely reasonable for large overseas factions to harbor a few Night Walkers and Starlords.* "You seem a little distracted." Cao Qianxiu's bright eyes rested on him from across the table. "Don't tell me you're sleepy." The shop had closed long ago. Half the lights were turned off, while the other half had been left on for them by the owner. The owner, a native of Soup-Brewing Province, had adamantly refused to work overtime no matter how much money was offered. Still, he was a decent fellow; he had left the keys and padlock with the two of them, told them to make sure to turn off the lights and lock up, and then wandered off grumbling. —The owner was an acquaintance of Cao Qing. *Sleepy? Don't you know Night Walkers are the ultimate night owls?* Zhang Yuanqing looked toward Curry Street and remarked, "Your Deacon is in danger." Cao Qianxiu looked utterly bewildered, failing to grasp his meaning. Before she could ask, their team leader Constant Self-Improvement's hurried, grave voice crackled through the earpiece: "All members assemble! Something went wrong on Curry Street! Deacon Wings of the Wind God's life is hanging by a thread. Provide backup immediately!" Cao Qianxiu's eyes went wide in an instant. "Copy!" Zhang Yuanqing pressed his earpiece, acknowledging the call, before turning to the stunned girl. "During an operation, maintain absolute composure. Never let any news shake your mindset, or you're as good as dead." With that, he strode swiftly out of the shop. Zhang Yuanqing had spoken this way deliberately, aiming to establish a "mature, steady, and seasoned" image before Cao Qianxiu, which would smooth things over when his true level was eventually exposed. Cao Qianxiu finally snapped back to reality, rushing out after him and hurriedly pulling down the shop's rolling shutter. Curry Street was about a kilometer from the dessert shop. With Cao Qianxiu and Zhang Yuanqing's speed, they arrived at the designated position in less than half a minute. It was half past eleven at night, and Chinatown's streets were deserted. Half the block was steeped in darkness, while the other half was dimly illuminated by streetlamps. On the car-lined street, Zhang Yuanqing could see twenty to thirty people gathered beneath an apartment building in the distance, their anxious faces tilted upward toward a particular window. Lightning flashed within the window, yet not a single sound escaped. A few youths in peaked caps were cradling laptops, tapping keys with one hand while several drones hovered above the crowd. Higher up, Wind Mages glided on the currents of air. —Wind Mages lacked true flight, but they could glide. "Judge!" A voice called down from above. Zhang Yuanqing and Cao Qianxiu looked up to see a figure gliding down on the wind. It was a girl of sixteen or seventeen, with a rounded face still retaining traces of baby fat and a pair of remarkably clear, watery eyes. Dressed in a white knit sweater and light-colored slim-fit jeans, she radiated youthful vitality and sweet charm. At this moment, however, anxiety was written all over her sweet, round face. "Snow White, what happened?" Cao Qianxiu asked urgently. Snow White glanced at Zhang Yuanqing, having no time for introductions or pleasantries. Clasping Cao Qianxiu's arm, she said anxiously: "I heard from the team leader that Deacon Wings of the Wind God planned to trap the beast in a cage—confining the murderer to the apartment so ordinary people wouldn't get hurt and the killer couldn't escape. "But the drones just caught footage showing Deacon Wings has been gravely wounded! He's in mortal peril!" Cao Qianxiu's expression darkened. "You're all gathered down here because you can't breach the barrier to rescue him?" Snow White nodded vigorously. "Several team leaders have already contacted the alliance higher-ups, but... but the response was to keep waiting..." She knitted her delicate brows, stamping her foot in desperation. "We can afford to wait, but Deacon Wings can't! What on earth are the higher-ups doing?! Even if they just sent another Deacon—as long as someone breaks the barrier, Deacon Wings can escape!" As they spoke, several more people converged on them. Leading the group was a young man of twenty-five or twenty-six, with a square face, a crew cut, a robust physique, and sharp, clear eyes that radiated an earnest, upright aura. Behind him followed three others. One was a chubby youth in a black T-shirt and black-rimmed glasses whose appearance and demeanor were the very definition of a shut-in otaku. Another was an arrogant-looking youth with a short ponytail; his features were handsome enough, but together, they gave off an unsettling, excessively sharp and unruly impression. The last was an honest, simple young man with ordinary features and height, but a burly, solid build. Zhang Yuanqing's gaze swept over the four of them, matching their temperaments and features to their identities. "We've already gotten in touch with Deacon Yellow Wind Monster. He'll be here any second, so don't worry, everyone." Constant Self-Improvement first explained the situation to Cao Qianxiu, then gave Zhang Yuanqing a slight nod. "That's a relief." Snow White let out a breath. Yellow Wind Monster was a Level 4 Gale Walker. Though far from Wings of the Wind God's caliber, he was still a Saint. Cao Qianxiu looked around at her teammates and said, "How could this happen? The alliance leadership should have had a thorough plan. How did things turn into such a disaster?" The team members exchanged glances, at a loss for words. Even Constant Self-Improvement, who had earlier insisted that "the alliance naturally has its arrangements," was momentarily speechless. It seemed the alliance had botched the operation. Seeing that no one responded, Cao Qianxiu subconsciously looked toward Zhang Yuanqing. Zhang Yuanqing gazed up at the window. "No matter how meticulous a plan is, to a Starlord, it's just an open-book exam. If the higher-ups haven't arrived, they're most likely tied down. "Never try to ambush a Starlord. When it comes to strategic planning, none of the classes in the Spirit Realm can hold a candle to them. The alliance leadership simply has too little experience dealing with Night Walkers." The arrogant Siren, Sacred Hand of Medicine, scoffed, "Captain Hindsight. What's the point of saying all this now?" *Sirens really are the First District's equivalent of Fire Specialists, aren't they? No, even more obnoxious. Fire Specialists talk without thinking, but Sirens specialize in provocation...* Zhang Yuanqing glanced at him. Having been a Spirit Realm walker for so long, he had learned tolerance. Some classes simply had no brains when they spoke; one just had to accept it. Just then, a gust of wild wind swept in, and a middle-aged man in pajamas came gliding through the night sky. The members of the Anti-Black-and-White Alliance below breathed a collective sigh of relief, calling out, "Deacon Yellow Wind Monster!" The middle-aged man stared at the window flickering with lightning, paying no heed to the members on the street. Spreading his arms, he caused the surrounding airflow to churn furiously. The gale whipped up dust and litter, blowing so fiercely that the alliance members below could barely keep their eyes open. Under the middle-aged man's control, the swirling currents coalesced into wind blades, which then fused into an even larger blade of wind. Under the breathless, hopeful gazes of Snow White and the others, the middle-aged Deacon, Yellow Wind Monster, thrust his palms forward with all his might. *Whoosh—* The wind shrieked. A six-meter-long wind blade sliced through the air and slammed into the membranous barrier. The membrane trembled violently twice before smoothing out again, and the wind blade scattered into mundane gusts. It failed to breach the barrier. It was a rather awkward moment. The expectant looks on the members' faces froze, their expressions stiffening. Deacon Yellow Wind Monster's face tightened slightly. "I-It didn't work..." Cao Qianxiu paled. The members of Team 6 turned grim. It was too late. There was no time left to save Deacon Wings—unless an elder or the Alliance Leader arrived this very second, he was doomed. How long could a cornered man hold out? Gale Walkers were not a class known for high defense or self-healing. Holding on until now was already an extraordinary feat. "What do we do? What do we do?" Snow White was on the verge of tears. Right then, Zhang Yuanqing's phone chimed in his pocket. He drew it out to check the message: *"Original body, I've confirmed that no high-tier Spirit Realm walkers are lurking nearby. I've finished disguising myself; Cult Master Tongtian can make his entrance at any time."* Zhang Yuanqing replied: *"Wait until I break the barrier in my Swordsman persona, then make your move!"* The clone replied, *"Copy!"* Zhang Yuanqing tucked his phone away and strode toward the apartment building. As he walked, he opened his inventory and drew out a two-foot-long bronze sword. Behind him, Cao Qianxiu froze, then cried out, "What are you doing?"