Chen Chuan tapped the short dagger in his hand a few times, expelling the wisp of mental intent clinging to it. The short blade then dissolved into specks of flowing light, scattering and vanishing from his grip.
It was difficult for realm-melded weapons to change owners. Having been steeped in field spirit, they remained attuned to their original masters even after that spirit was purged.
If one lacked such a weapon, wielding it might still be worthwhile, but having one of his own made using it unnecessary.
Fortunately, he had only taken it as a collector's item.
Looking at the charcoal ashes scattered across the ground, had a pure Visage of the Divine martial artist been defeated, the remains left behind could actually have served as materials for realm-melded weapons.
Alas, because this man had merged with an entity from the other side, these remnants were tainted. It was not that they could not be used, but that they could easily back-infect a martial artist.
In truth, it was hardly surprising that Fantner's true body had taken this path, as the philosophy of the Visage of the Divine was remarkably complementary to that of the Convergence faction.
This was also why the Visage of the Divine had mostly been cultivated by religious figures in the past. Within a religion, practitioners either enjoyed the protection and blessing of the deities they worshipped, or possessed steadfast faith that was not easily swayed; others rarely tread this path.
Today, however, things were different. Driven by technological advancement, vast swathes of the Confluence had been developed, and obtaining a host body had become much easier. As a result, more and more martial artists stepped onto this path. Yet because their foundations lacked polishing, their convictions lacked purity, or their strength suffered from inherent deficiencies, they would—intentionally or unintentionally—incorporate power from the other side.
Some were tainted by accident and forced to temper it into themselves, while others merged willingly. Yet this brought forth even more styles and variations. The Fantner he faced today shared similarities with Consultant Bai, whom he had encountered before; his style leaned more toward traditional combat. Meanwhile, the martial artist suspected to be from the Strategic Affairs Department, whom he had met in the Federation Capital that day, excelled at weaving illusions indistinguishable from reality, seemingly possessing a superior mental tier.
Of course, this might also stem from the difference between a true body and a divided avatar; an incomplete body naturally lacked full power.
He was in no hurry to leave. Setting the Xuejun Saber aside, he sat cross-legged in midair, and the spiritual visage behind him mirrored the motion.
He planned to seize this opportunity to cultivate for a while longer.
After all, this place was also on the other side of the fissure and blessed by the Sacred Tree; it would be a waste not to make use of it.
In any case, the people outside would wait until he emerged, so there was no need to rush for a moment or two.
Before long, he sensed how exceptional the cultivation environment here was. Within the airspace shaped by the Sacred Tree, encroachment still existed, but it was exceedingly faint, easily resisted by an ordinary martial artist through their own strength alone. Perhaps owing to the Sacred Tree, the energy here could almost be described as pure nourishment.
During combat, he hadn't noticed it, but once he began cultivating, copious amounts of beneficial energy surged eagerly into his body, transforming into the nutrients his mutated tissue required to advance to higher levels.
This made him quite tempted to stay a while longer.
Yet those outside could not wait too long, so he did not intend to linger overmuch. At worst, he could discuss it with the High Priestess after stepping out and borrow this place to cultivate for another period later on.
Three days later, he concluded this session of cultivation. He felt the mutated tissue within him buzzing with tremendous vitality, the result of accumulating vast amounts of energy, signaling that he was already prepared for another battle.
However, absorbing to the brim might instead lead to sluggish complacency, so he quit while he was ahead.
Opening his eyes to look around, he saw several wandering cloud islets drifting past. He now noticed that these cloud islets were not bare; upon the few drifting before him grew unfamiliar mutated plants.
Upon closer inspection, one could even spot cable bridges connecting some of the cloud islets that drifted close to one another.
They had likely been built by the ancestors of the First People in days long past.
Yet none of these bridges connected directly to the cloud islet beneath his feet. Though this cloud islet was vast, it appeared to have been abandoned here.
He surmised that Kawatua had lost this capability, which was why they never considered seeking refuge within the fissure. In an extreme sense, they might have even lost the ability to commune with the Sacred Tree, leaving them with no means to draw adequate resources from here.
No wonder the influence of the priesthood was steadily waning; its continued survival seemed entirely reliant on the High Priestess's personal prestige and Ikus, who was akin to a living god.
If the nobles had an inkling of this state of affairs, their defection to the Federation was not incomprehensible.
His form drifted gently to the ground. Pulling up the Xuejun Saber plunged into the earth beside him, he tidied his clothes, adjusted the brim of his hat, and strode toward the exit.
Outside the fissure, the High Priestess and the elderly priest remained seated in waiting. They had consumed spirits-revitalizing fruits; until an outcome emerged, they would not leave.
Fortunately, as priests, the rituals they presided over often spanned days and nights—some lasting tens of days—granting them exceptional endurance regulation and the ability to rest anytime, anywhere.
At the outset of the fierce battle between Chen Chuan and Fantner, the tremendous air currents had even surged out of the fissure, forcing them to retreat to a distant corner.
The High Priestess was advanced in years and had known of battles between demigods in the past. Though she hadn't been present, she knew such contests were drawn out with intermittent clashes, continuing until one side exhausted the other's stamina to secure victory.
Under such circumstances, there was no telling how long it might take.
Yet after only three days of waiting, the two saw a dark silhouette emerge within the fissure. Someone was walking out.
Both tensed in unison. The person stepping out would undoubtedly determine the fate of the First People.
The figure shifted from a blur to sharp clarity until Chen Chuan came into view, Xuejun Saber in hand, walking slowly into the outside chamber.
Seeing this outcome, both felt a sudden wave of relief. Perhaps in their hearts, they too did not wish to see the Federation triumph.
Part of this was because they had lived through the era of violent conflict with the Federation, and part of it was that Great Shun never demanded that they abandon their traditions and faith.
The High Priestess murmured, "This is the choice of the Sacred Tree."
Overhearing her words, Chen Chuan couldn't help but glance at her. The Sacred Tree had certainly shown him no favoritism. However, considering the substantial gains he had reaped from this battle and his overall satisfaction, he chose not to quibble over it.
The elderly priest looked past him toward the fissure and asked in Great Shun speech, "Mr. Chen, what of Mr. Fantner?"
Chen Chuan replied, "I believe he has become one with the Sacred Tree."
The elderly priest gave an acknowledging nod. He had only wished to confirm the outcome, and bowed to Chen Chuan.
Just then, the High Priestess felt an impression—the voice of Ikus resonated by her ear, stating that the promised gifts were to be bestowed.
She was somewhat surprised; it was rare indeed for Ikus not to forget.
After briefly communing, she said to Chen Chuan, "Mr. Chen, Ikus just conveyed that the victor's gifts are to be presented. Please accept them."
Hearing her words, Chen Chuan suddenly felt a premonition. Looking upward, he saw an arm-length feather drifting down through an aperture at the top of the temple.
When the feather gently floated before him, two objects rested upon it: on the left was a blood-red pebble, and on the right lay an irregularly shaped crystal.
Upon seeing the two items, a flicker of astonishment crossed the High Priestess's face, though she said nothing more.
Chen Chuan sensed an abundance of energy emanating from both objects.
The blood-red stone seemed capable of elevating a living creature's life tier. While of little use to himself, it would likely benefit Chaoming.
As for the irregular crystal, sensing it with his mental power gave him a general idea of its purpose, though it was inconvenient to experiment right now; he would test it after returning.
As for the feather—
The High Priestess spoke at that moment, "This is likewise a gift from Ikus to Mr. Chen. With this feather, you may travel freely to any corner of Kawatua, including the sanctuary of the Sacred Tree."
Chen Chuan nodded appreciatively. This was quite favorable. He had originally pondered whether he might ask the High Priestess to let him cultivate there for a time, but now that trouble was spared.
The High Priestess waited until he put the items away before saying, "Mr. Chen, let us step outside. The descendants of Kawatua eagerly await this outcome."
Chen Chuan nodded and gave an assent.
At that very moment, outside the Great Temple of Hati, the crowd waited with bated breath. The debate over who would emerge victorious had raged for three full days.
The purple-robed noble appeared composed on the surface, chatting and laughing with those around him, yet the fact that he had not left the grounds for three days showed his inner state was far from what he projected.
Amaru spoke then, "Three days have passed; it should be over soon. Bieta, if Great Shun wins, are you willing to concede?"
"And so what if they do?"
Bieta gave a relaxed smile. "Even if Great Shun's side wins, if they dare move against me, everyone will feel endangered. The High Priestess seeks stability and wishes to avoid internal turmoil and attrition. Even if we lose, we remain safe.
"Besides, with you here, Amaru, what do I have to fear from them?"
Amaru said in a low voice, "If the Federation loses, this reform attempt of ours fails entirely, and it will be impossible to undertake such a thing ever again. Are you truly resigned to that?"
"Don't speak as if our defeat is certain," Bieta retorted, somewhat displeased.
Sensing that his tone had been too sharp, he quickly adjusted, adopting a calmer tone. "I've had many dealings with the Federation. The power they possess is beyond our imagination. Rest assured, we can win."
It wasn't that he truly believed the Federation would win—otherwise, his heart wouldn't be so fraught with anxiety. It was simply that he had already boarded the Federation's ship, and stepping off was no longer an option.
After another long wait, the sunlight gradually sank behind them. It seemed today would be yet another day without a verdict. But right at that moment, thunderous booms echoed from within the temple—*dong, dong, dong*.
Everyone snapped to attention. Those were the ritual drums. The sounding of these drums meant that the moment deciding Kawatua's destiny had finally arrived.
Chapter 1235