Above the narrow sea of Dafeng Bay stood an exquisite, ornate octagonal pavilion offering a sweeping view of the magnificent waters.
At this moment, however, the afternoon sun was obscured by a thick blanket of lead-gray clouds. The distant horizon where sea met sky had blurred, and gust after gust of briny, moisture-laden sea breeze swept past, heralding an imminent storm.
A young man dressed in ancient Great Shun attire stepped into the pavilion. His long hair was bound in a topknot secured with a jade hairpin, his robes fluttering incessantly in the wind. Far behind him stood security personnel, each bearing the emblem of the Progenitor Company on their collar tabs.
He watched the sea for a moment before a message came through his boundary credential: "Sir, the transmission line is established. We can only guarantee three minutes of stable communication."
"Patch it through," the young man said.
Moments later, static crackled across his boundary credential, clearing within a few seconds to reveal a deep voice. "Mr. Gao."
"Mr. Xiang," the young man said, "I have received definitive word that the target has left the delegation and is heading toward a sacred site of the First People. How are the preparations on your end? When will you make your move?"
"Mr. Gao," Mr. Xiang replied, "I am accompanying the boss on the East Coast negotiating with the Great Shun delegation. I cannot step away right now. Furthermore—"
"Furthermore what?"
Mr. Xiang said, "The boss seems to know a little something. I do not advise acting at this juncture."
The young man's expression hardened. "Are you certain?"
"It is merely my personal feeling."
The young man took several steps forward, emerging from the pavilion to stand at the edge of the cliff. Gazing down at the surging sea and the waves smashing into foam against the reef below, he fell silent for a few moments before speaking in a voice that was almost chillingly cold. "I want you to eliminate him as soon as possible, by whatever means necessary. What you want, I can give you."
Upon hearing this, Mr. Xiang seemed to ponder for a good while. Just as the call's time limit was about to expire, he replied, "Mr. Gao, I understand. Await my word."
***
At that very moment, communications within the West Coast headquarters of the Covert Operations Directorate were unusually hectic. Telegrams shuttled constantly back and forth between headquarters and regional center cities, with Atahorca State being the most frequent subject of concern.
Because the matter of the Throat of the Star Spirit was of paramount importance, the Directorate had convened multiple consecutive meetings. In the end, they dispatched Jonas Calloway, First Assistant to the Director, to personally oversee and handle the operation.
Past experience showed that sacred sites of the First People often hoarded ancient mutated flora, sometimes including rare specimens preserved from over ten thousand years ago, possessing extraordinary research value.
The First People possessed a unique and sophisticated cultivation method. Some of these plants harbored potent divine power, and studies had shown that a portion of the myriad spirits worshipped by the First People originally derived from such flora.
Naturally, this was merely the tip of the iceberg. Based on previous encounters, the value of major relics preserved in sacred First People sites often exceeded all imagination—let alone the fact that the Throat of the Star Spirit had once been one of their foremost sacred grounds.
Aboard an airship making an emergency flight to Atahorca State, Jonas Calloway looked at the field screen before him, swiftly and concisely exchanging information with local intelligence operatives.
Turning toward another panel on the screen, he addressed a sturdy young man wearing black-rimmed glasses. "Gaz, what is the situation on your end?"
The young man answered, "Master Baishi of the Mind-Manifesting School has headed south alongside the Third Hunting Troop. He should have arrived at Greenfields by now."
"Not enough!"
Calloway's speech was rapid and forceful, his piercing gaze fixed directly upon his conversational partners, exuding immense pressure.
"The Great Shun side has a Secret Palace martial artist with them this time. I have looked into him—this man has produced miracles time and time again."
He picked up a document. "Here is another assessment of him. Even before becoming a martial artist, his combat prowess ranked in the world's foremost tier."
He swept his eyes over everyone shown on the screen. "I want our success guaranteed." He added, "Gentlemen, headquarters has exceptionally high expectations for this operation. As liaisons for the state branches, I expect you to perform your roles to the fullest."
The young man said, "Sir, Iron Raven should have arrived by now, but his clearance is high, so we currently do not know his whereabouts."
Calloway replied, "I have already contacted him, but—" He shook his head. "Still not enough."
Just then, an assistant stepped forward and whispered something, prompting Calloway to pause the field conference.
"Sir," the assistant reported, "we made contact with Gigagods Flora Company. They are currently holding a board meeting and will give us an answer in two hours at the latest."
Calloway checked his watch and said decisively, "Give them two hours."
He reopened the screen and resumed the meeting. Two hours later, a document landed in Calloway's hands: the Secret Palace martial artist from Gigagods had set out and would arrive in Atahorca State in two days. After reviewing it, he put it down. "That will do."
Addressing the figures on the screen, he said, "Gentlemen, the meeting is adjourned." With a nod, he promptly shut off the display, walked over to pour a glass of water, and instructed the assistant beside him, "Signal Iron Raven. Tell him not to rush into action. Just keep a close watch on their movements."
"Yes, sir."
***
Meanwhile, Chen Chuan and his companions had checked out of their hotel at around three in the morning, departing by vehicle toward the Silver Gauze Mountain Range to the west.
Several hours later, they arrived at a small town. Because the roads ended beyond this point, they switched to horses they had reserved in advance and loaded their supplies onto wagons.
These implant horses possessed boundless stamina and excelled at traversing mountainous and rugged terrain, making them prime companions in the wilderness.
Everyone in the expedition had been allotted two horses so they could switch mounts periodically and maintain a brisk pace.
Once ready, the party set off again. Dawn had broken not long ago, and the sun had yet to reach its zenith. The crisp morning chill had not completely dispersed as gentle sunlight washed over the expansive grassland. A few egrets strolled through the shallows of the wetlands, and whenever the wind blew, vast emerald waves of grass rolled and rippled, filling the air with the rich scent of damp earth and fresh grass.
Awan rode a small pony. As a member of the First People, despite being underage, he was already an accomplished rider.
He gazed at everything around him with wide, curious eyes, as if he could never see enough. In all his years, he had never journeyed this far from home—much less to the lands where his ancestors had once walked.
He trotted his pony ahead one moment and fell back the next, letting out occasional cheerful whistles, bursting with excitement.
After a while, feeling thirsty, he drew near his own group, took a sip of water, and watched the Great Shun security guards riding ahead. Even he could sense the sharp, disciplined aura that hung about them. Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he murmured instinctively, "If only Great Shun could help us take back our land."
The one-eyed elder glanced at him and spoke with solemn gravity. "Awan, 'an eagle does not beg the wind for wings; a hunter who relies on another's bow will never strike his prey.' What we must do is learn their skills from Great Shun, and then use our own strength to drive those Federation people out."
Tahu chimed in, "He speaks the truth. How can one expect others to defend our home? Even the dearest of friends cannot offer sacrifices to our ancestors in our stead."
Awan nodded, then added softly, "If only Takoda were here."
Tahu gave a contemptuous snort, disgust written across his face. "Do not speak of that man. The tribe raised him, gave him the very best of everything, yet he abandoned us."
Though Awan did not think Takoda had done right, he likewise could not bring himself to believe that Takoda had truly abandoned the tribe. Still, the man had indeed failed to appear when the tribe was in its direst peril. Unable to find words to refute his elder, Awan could only stew in silent frustration.
Just then, a sudden cry of surprise rang out ahead. Awan watched as the one-eyed elder dismounted in haste and rushed excitedly toward a stone pillar carved with strange, monstrous beasts. Dropping to his knees, the elder began chanting under his breath, repeatedly bowing toward the pillar in fervent veneration.
Noticing this, Chen Chuan signaled the party to halt. Looking closely, he saw an ancient stone pillar, weathered and partially toppled.
The one-eyed elder exchanged a few hurried words with the First People who caught up behind him. Their faces lit up with deep emotion, and all of them knelt before the pillar. The elder drew out an incense pouch he carried, poured some aromatic powder into a hollow at the base of the pillar, and lit it. Before long, a peculiar, fragrant smoke drifted into the air.
At that moment, Chen Chuan felt an odd sensation. For an instant, the spirits of these people seemed to connect with something, sinking deep into the earth under the guidance of the stone pillar.
A thought stirred within him. This might very well be linked to the layout of the grand ritual of the Throat of the Star Spirit. In ancient times, after all, the entire expanse of Atahorca State had served as the heartland of the Ishtar Dynasty, the primary territory where the Ishtarians had thrived.
Yet on the map in his possession, apart from a single thin path, nothing else was marked across this stretch. Bringing these First People along had evidently been the right choice.
The First People remained there, devoutly whispering prayers. Chen Chuan did not rush them, choosing instead to wait patiently nearby.
After waiting for over half an hour, until the incense had burned completely to ash, the First People finally rose one after another, gradually composing themselves.
The one-eyed elder walked over to Chen Chuan in person and explained the reason.
This was a worship pillar erected by their ancestors. Every such pillar represented ancestral guidance, and offering sacrifices at these pillars helped them draw closer to the resting grounds of their forebears. If they encountered more along their journey, he hoped they would be permitted to stop and pay their respects.
Chen Chuan expressed his understanding, saying, "Our destination is your ancestral sacred ground. I respect your customs."
Deeply grateful, the one-eyed elder thanked Chen Chuan, then rallied the First People back onto their mounts to rejoin the ranks and press onward.
No further incidents interrupted their travel, and by dusk that evening, they arrived at the foot of the Silver Gauze Mountain Range, where the entire expedition pitched camp under the open sky.
Chapter 1076