Gui Zihan knew that someone had likely been shadowing them all along. Since Chen Chuan had told them to move ahead, there was clearly an enemy behind them whom only Chen Chuan himself could handle.
Gui Zihan had no way of taking part in a fight at that level, though he felt a touch of regret at not being able to witness it. But having come all this way to fulfill the mission of investigating the Throat of the Star Spirit, his personal inclinations had to be set aside for now.
And so, with a brief acknowledgment of agreement, he immediately led the group quickly into the cavern.
The one-eyed elder had been here before, so he set a brisk pace at the front. Once deep inside the cavern, an interior passageway opened up before them, its walls blanketed with luminous moss that shed a remarkably soft, gentle glow.
Yet as soon as they reached this point, he suddenly halted. Someone in the party asked, "Elder Gale, why have you stopped?"
The one-eyed elder exchanged glances with his fellow First People, then turned back toward the Great Shun group, his expression earnest and grave.
"We came together, so we should go in together. That is how we Isutal people treat our companions and allies.
"We will wait right here."
The rest of the First People nodded in solemn agreement. They knew their capabilities were limited and that they could not aid Chen Chuan—staying behind would only have caused trouble, which was why they had agreed to enter the cavern first. Even so, they were equally unwilling to abandon Chen Chuan and push deeper inside on their own.
Especially when he was holding the line to handle danger for their sake, their consciences simply would not allow it.
Gui Zihan was not one for persuasion. He gestured for others in the group to try reasoning with them, but it was futile; the First People were stubbornly resolute, not a single one willing to take another step forward. Moreover, without them to guide the way, none of the newcomers could predict what perils might lie ahead, making it impossible to force them onward.
Gao Ming offered a light smile. "I'd say everyone is worn out from the trek anyway. There's no telling what we might encounter deeper inside, so why not have a bite to eat, drink some water, and replenish our strength? It won't take Cousin long to settle things."
Yuan Qiuyuan chimed in, "Advocate Gao is right. The captain won't take more than a moment to handle things. Let's make good use of the time to rest." Beside them, Qin Qingque and Su Wei both nodded in wholehearted agreement.
Seeing that everyone shared the same view, Gui Zihan said nothing further.
Yet once they sat down, they soon realized something: when they had ascended earlier, the cavern mouth was shrouded in thick steam and mist, making it impossible to see what lay within. But looking outward from inside, there was virtually nothing obstructing the view. They could clearly see the approach they had taken and the surrounding landscape, and because of the elevated vantage point, their field of view was remarkably wide.
Upon realizing this, Gui Zihan walked to the entrance cradling his sword, peering downward. Many others also drifted instinctively toward the opening, looking out over the slopes below.
Chen Chuan stood at the entrance, saber in hand. Chaoming wheeled endlessly in the skies above. After quite a while, Chaoming let out a clear, piercing cry.
Chen Chuan cast his gaze down the slope. Before long, the rhythmic rumbling of hooves echoed up the mountain. A troop of cavalry wound around a bend in the mountain path ahead, emerging into his line of sight.
Reaching this stretch, the cavalry leader sensed something amiss. Reining in his mount to a halt, he looked up toward the figure standing on the heights.
During his journey across the Federation, Chen Chuan represented the Great Shun delegation, and so he remained clad in his original uniform: a wide-brimmed peaked cap bearing the emblem of Great Shun, an outer coat draped over his frame, and in his hand a long saber adorned with a red sash.
This distinctive attire made his identity unmistakably clear at a single glance.
Yet after that single glance, the cavalry leader felt his hair stand on end, his breath catching in his throat.
Chen Chuan had not even expanded his field, but his stance, his poised and tranquil bearing, and the unshakeable confidence forged through countless hard-fought victories all radiated outward, instilling an overwhelming sense of oppression.
The mutated tissues within his body agitated frantically, warning him to stay far away from this man. But having advanced this far, retreat was out of the question. Forcing down the urge to turn tail and flee, he slowly exhaled a long breath and looked toward Master Baishi. Everything rested on this man now.
Master Baishi was likewise looking upward. Beneath his stern demeanor, a trace of delight broke through, his entire being visibly energized with excitement.
Yes—this was the very opponent he had been searching for!
The Mind Intent School of combat had originated over three hundred years ago as the lineage of the Mind Intent Hall among the Twenty-One Halls of the Outer Ocean. Later, however, because the fissure within their hall was lost, they had no further means of accessing the Melded Lands or the world beyond, leaving them no choice but to depart for distant foreign lands.
Ultimately, this line of successors chose to travel to the Ying Continent and put down roots. Yet the hall master of that era did not ally with the First People; instead, he entered into marriage alliances with the nobility of the Western Continent, serving as their enforcers.
From then on, martial artists from this lineage consistently sided with the Western Continent colonists, securing their own standing through three centuries of allegiance.
Through centuries of exchange, the Mind Intent School not only incorporated certain techniques of the First People but also absorbed many fighting philosophies from the Western Continent, ultimately abandoning the saber altogether to forge a distinct path of their own.
This hall pursued ultimate technique, believing that if skill were honed deeply enough, a pure physical body alone could triumph over even the mightiest foes. This philosophy was deeply ingrained in their body and spirit. Consequently, whenever they overcame strength through weakness, it propelled their own advancement—the stronger the enemy, the more thrilled they became.
After reviewing the dossier on Chen Chuan, Baishi had followed the cavalry troop without the slightest hesitation. Seeing the man in person now filled him with even greater delight. In his eyes, Chen Chuan was undeniably the formidable adversary destined to pave his path forward.
Dismounting alone, he walked up the mountain path and came to a halt before Chen Chuan. Bowing slightly, he spoke in the Great Shun tongue:
"Mind Intent School, Noah Baishi."
With that, he spread his arms, fingers curved slightly, stepping sideways into a stance with his weight shifted to his rear foot. "Please instruct me!"
Chen Chuan appraised the man. He was tall, slender, and well-proportioned, his shoulders broad without being excessively bulky, giving an overall impression of lightness imbued with tremendous power.
Chen Chuan noticed that he carried no weapon, appearing to fight solely with his bare fists, which was a slight disappointment.
No weapon, then?
Chen Chuan raised his hand and planted the Xuejun Saber into the ground beside him. "Purist Faction, Chen Chuan."
Seeing Chen Chuan's response, Baishi grew visibly more excited. Orange-red flames of light flickered across his body, and an indistinct outline over twenty meters tall manifested behind him, adopting the very same stance, though for now it appeared hazy and ephemeral.
Chen Chuan glanced at it. *The Visage of Man?*
Any martial artist who walked the path of the Visage of Man and reached the realm of the Longevity View was no simple opponent.
Before arriving, he had familiarized himself with various fighting schools across the Federation and had heard of the Mind Intent School. Well, then, let us see what this man is made of.
The members of the hunting troop watched from the rear. The cavalry leader retained great confidence in Master Baishi; after all, the master possessed a solid track record and enjoyed an international reputation, whereas according to the intelligence, his opponent had rarely stepped outside his homeland's borders.
Martial arts required constant exchange, especially in terms of technique and combat experience. No matter how one looked at it, their side seemed to hold the upper hand.
Seeing Chen Chuan standing motionless, Master Baishi did not wait any longer. Regulating his breath, he let out a thunderous shout. Behind him, the spiritual visage hurled a colossal fist downward toward Chen Chuan, its surface swirling and erupting with blazing orange-red flames of light.
Seeing the massive fist descending, Chen Chuan showed no inclination to dodge. He raised a single hand to block. With a tremendous boom, he intercepted and pushed back the enormous fist with just one hand.
At the point of impact, both combatants' Spiritual Fire clashed violently, detonating in expanding rings of brilliant light and fire.
"What?!"
Baishi's eyes widened, his heart jolting in shock. He saw that Chen Chuan was not even planted on the ground, but hovering slightly in midair—purely relying on his own physical power and the propulsion of his Spiritual Fire to catch the blow!
Given its immense size, a spiritual visage might be slightly slower than the physical body, but its raw strength was overwhelmingly dominant. Yet Chen Chuan had met it head-on with a single hand! What kind of strength was this?!
He realized at once that he had encountered an unprecedentedly formidable adversary. Yet instead of shrinking back, he grew even more thrilled. This was the opponent he had truly sought; only through a desperate clash on the brink could he shatter his current bottleneck!
If power fell short, superior technique could bridge the divide!
The moment he realized his spiritual visage could not overpower his opponent, his reaction was lightning-fast. The forward impact of the visage's fist instantly shifted into an adhesive drag. Simultaneously, he pushed off the ground with both feet, surging toward Chen Chuan like a streak of flowing light.
He knew that if Chen Chuan manifested his own spiritual visage, he would be at an absolute disadvantage. Thus, he closed the distance before that could happen. So long as he was fast enough and his strikes effective enough, even if a spiritual visage were present, it could be treated as though it did not exist.
Chen Chuan immediately grasped his intention. Unable to find an opening through sheer power, Baishi had promptly altered his tactics to establish an advantage in speed.
It was a sound approach, exactly what the situation called for. Baishi's transition had occurred without the slightest hesitation—decisive, aggressive, and so fluid it was as though he had prepared for it all along. It was practically a textbook demonstration of combat mastery.
However...
In a flash, Baishi arrived within striking distance. Fingers pressed tightly together, he thrust a hand-blade straight toward Chen Chuan's face. The hand with which Chen Chuan had been pressing against the visage's fist suddenly exerted force from the palm, thrusting outward. Even as the visage's fist was shoved back, Chen Chuan broke free of the adhesive drag, harnessing the recoil to propel himself backward. *Whoosh.* He shot back so rapidly that the surrounding scenery instantly blurred.
At that exact moment, he leaned slightly to the side. At such high velocity, that subtle shift caused his entire body to carve outward in a sweeping, wide-arcing curve.
Yet Baishi displayed supreme combat instincts. Clinging to him like a shadow, he did not withdraw his thrusting hand-blade; tearing through the air, he merely angled his palm to track Chen Chuan's trajectory, while his other hand, held low beside his waist, had already gathered its full power, primed at any second to deliver a lethal strike!
Chapter 1078