Chen Chuan looked at the newcomer. From the man's overwhelming aura, his presence here, and his tone of voice, he had a pretty good idea of who he was.
Vea State's Throne martial artist, Derian Crossal.
"That's me," Chen Chuan said.
Crossal said, "I hear it was you who took care of the prisoners who escaped the Blockade Hall?"
Chen Chuan said, "I merely helped deal with two of them. As for the rest, that falls upon your esteemed side to handle."
Crossal stared at him, his tone tinged with interrogation. "Since you had the ability to resolve two of them, why did you let the last one walk away?"
Chen Chuan met his gaze and replied placidly, "Your Excellency needs to understand that it was your side who begged for our assistance, not our side being obligated to exert ourselves. How we choose to act is hardly your place to question."
Crossal's gaze grew increasingly dark. "And just what role did your Great Shun Delegation play in this incident? How could a mere Secret Palace martial artist defeat two Throne-tier prisoners in succession? Even if they were severely weakened, I wonder if there might be things here we know nothing about."
Chen Chuan looked at him and said, "If Your Excellency wishes to learn, I happen to have a little spare time right now to help you find out."
The previous fights had been thoroughly exhilarating, but he wouldn't mind another round. It was just a pity that the man before him had likely not arrived in his complete body, only as a separated limb, so Chen Chuan would probably not get to experience the full extent of his might.
He wondered how this man compared to the two distinctly weakened opponents he had just faced, and in what ways he differed from them.
Crossal fixed his eyes on him. His fingers twitched several times before slowly tightening into a fist.
Just as the two were locked in their standoff, a sudden gale swept through. With a resounding boom, another figure descended not far from them, kicking up a massive plume of dust.
Fan Zhentong's tall silhouette emerged from the swirling smoke and dust. He said, "What's this? Is Mr. Crossal looking to test Section Chief Chen's skills? Section Chief Chen just fought two prisoners back-to-back, and he looks a bit tired. How about this—"
He stepped in front of Crossal.
"I'll spar with Mr. Crossal in Section Chief Chen's place. Speaking of which, since arriving in the Federation, I haven't really had the chance to spar and exchange pointers with any of your esteemed side's martial artists. This place seems quite suitable—empty of people, plenty of space, and no need to worry about anyone wandering off."
Crossal glanced at him, then shifted his eyes to Chen Chuan. His fingers slowly relaxed, and he said expressionlessly, "I rushed back today to attend to business, not to spar with anyone."
Fan Zhentong said, "No matter. If Mr. Crossal ever develops an interest, or happens to recall it whenever, I'm at your disposal at any time."
Crossal said nothing more. Leaping upward, he transformed into a streak of light and sped away. However, as he flew over the ancient ruins, a ray of lightning-fire radiance suddenly plummeted from his form. The ritual pillars detonated one after another, shattering to pieces. The ground trembled violently, and an expanse of flaming light surged into the sky.
Chen Chuan cast his gaze over. The strike seemed purely like an act of venting frustration. In his view, once the pillars had been erected, the ritual they established could likely exist independently; smashing the stone pillars would never solve the underlying problem.
If he could see that, there was no reason Crossal couldn't.
Moreover, he recalled that quite a few Chan practitioners refining their minds were still down there. It was uncertain whether this blast would cause casualties among them, but Xiaojue Temple was hardly a pushover. If any real harm had been done, someone would surely seek him out to debate the teachings and demand an explanation.
Fan Zhentong saw it as well, but since the strike had blasted the Federation's own territory, his heart remained completely unruffled. He said, "Crossal is a Federation supremacist who has always viewed our Great Shun as an enemy of the Federation.
"Ever since our Great Shun began negotiations with the East Bank, he has voiced extraordinary displeasure. Approaching you today, Section Chief Chen, was nothing more than looking for an excuse to stir up trouble."
Pausing briefly, he added, "Section Chief Chen, you did well this time. We members of the Great Shun Delegation have our own considerations for how to act; we have no need for others meddling in our affairs. Even on Federation soil, we cannot yield an inch; rather, we must show an even firmer hand."
Chen Chuan gave a slight nod.
Noticing Chen Chuan's gaze lingering in the direction Crossal had departed, Fan Zhentong asked, "What is it, Section Chief Chen? Feeling a bit of regret that you didn't get to cross hands with him?"
Chen Chuan spoke frankly: "A little. You arrived a bit too early, Mr. Fan. Otherwise, I might have had the chance to experience his strength firsthand."
Fan Zhentong couldn't help but look at him closely. Both the Wanderer and Covington were unquestionably at the Dongxuan View tier. Even if their long confinement had severely depleted their strength, their underlying foundation was still there; they were not opponents an ordinary Longevity View martial artist could handle.
Yet Chen Chuan had defeated two of them back-to-back in the span of just a few minutes—a truly astounding feat. What was more, after fighting two consecutive battles, he showed not the slightest sign of injury or exhaustion, which was all the more shocking.
Compared to the last time Fan Zhentong had seen him, the young man seemed to have grown stronger once more, advancing at a startling pace.
How long had it been since then?
He had always held outstanding juniors in high esteem. He said, "Section Chief Chen, Crossal shouldn't trouble you anymore. Well, not that you fear him anyway. As long as you're fine here, I ought to take my leave as well."
Chen Chuan said, "Thank you, Senior Fan."
Fan Zhentong waved a hand and turned to leave. As he walked, his body gradually dispersed like thick fog, finally resolving into a lone thumb floating in midair. After tumbling a few times in the wind, it disintegrated into a puff of ash and scattered with the breeze.
Chen Chuan watched the ash drift away, lost in thought. Based on his cultivation over the past few days and his recent interactions with Dongxuan View martial artists, these separated limbs were presumably linked to one's own spirit.
In other words, wherever a detached limb traveled, the martial artist's spirit could perceive the circumstances there. Dongxuan View martial artists truly lived up to the name "Dongxuan"—penetrating the profound.
However, there were likely limitations and distinctions to this detachment. The ability of someone like Fan Zhentong to project real strength with merely a drop of blood or a minor appendage was surely not something just anyone could achieve.
Straightening the brim of his hat, he continued toward Center City, quickening his pace slightly this time.
By the time he returned to the city, he found it still under martial law. Combat airships patrolled back and forth across the sky, armored vehicles rumbled down the streets from time to time, and numerous figures could be seen darting and leaping between skyscrapers, evading the pursuit of squads of combat organisms—likely fighters who had scattered from the combat zone during the earlier chaos.
As he observed the scene, he noticed someone walking toward him. Looking closely, he saw it was the Federation martial artist Dayel Rossard. The man came up before him, studied him with a complex look, and finally said, "Mr. Chen, do you have a moment? Could we talk?"
Chen Chuan nodded. "Certainly."
"Take my car, then."
Chen Chuan followed Rossard into his private car and rode toward a certain part of the city. The man remained silent throughout the drive.
After driving for a little over ten minutes, the car pulled up at an arena. Rossard invited him up to a VIP viewing platform.
Competitions in the City of Fighting usually ran around the clock, but last night's turmoil had affected even this place. It was now completely deserted, with only overhead floodlights casting their beams across the ring.
Rossard looked out over the empty grounds. "Would you care to hear a bit about my past? Consider it getting to know your opponent."
Chen Chuan replied, "I'm listening, Mr. Rossard."
Rossard hesitated briefly before speaking. "I am a Tawatinian, born into a family of mercenaries. Back during the Federation's War of Founding, when mercenaries were being recruited far and wide, I was only twelve years old when I followed my clan to the Federation.
"I grew to adulthood on Federation soil and fought through the entire War of Founding. During that time, I showed exceptional talent, and through the spoils and rewards earned in the war, I was quickly accepted by the Federation, becoming a national fighter.
"Even though I lived as a Federation citizen, I have never forgotten my homeland. I long for the people of that land and still view them as my compatriots.
"My assistance earned me their reverence; I became the object of their worship. So once I took on this burden, whenever they needed me to step forward, I had to answer the call.
"Please understand, Mr. Chen, this was merely dictated by circumstance, not because I had any desire to deepen the conflict between Great Shun and Tawatinia." He said in a deep voice, "Our scheduled duel is strictly between the two of us."
Chen Chuan looked at him, roughly discerning the man's motive for seeking this conversation. Rossard wanted to confine the scope of their duel strictly between the two of them, defining it as a pure contest between martial artists. Or more precisely, his primary motive was to avoid inciting Chen Chuan's personal enmity and disgust toward the Tawatinian people.
This concern was not without merit. Once a powerful martial artist reached a certain realm, aside from their formidable personal might, they were bound to hold vital positions within their home nation. Harboring hostility toward a particular region or country could truly carry international ramifications.
Chen Chuan said, "Mr. Rossard, if I recall correctly, this duel was sparked precisely by the tensions between our sides. You should know that win or lose, the friction between the two nations will only grow, not diminish. But you can rest assured: personally, I have no interest in the Tawatinian people.
"From where I stand, however, there is no need for you to worry so much, Mr. Rossard. If the Tawatinians themselves do not learn self-restraint, incidents like this will only multiply in the future. After suffering setback upon setback and coming to recognize the gap between us, I believe they will come to their senses eventually."
Rossard fell silent for a moment. Then he said, "Mr. Chen, I will wait for you here the day after tomorrow. When the time comes, please do not hold back."
Chapter 1159