The liaison officer froze, hesitating for a moment. "Mr. Chen, we still don't know what's happening on Mr. Hu's end. Should we...?"
His concern was that Hu had already been inside for some time, making it hard to tell how he was faring. If something had gone wrong, sending another person in would require caution.
"It's precisely because we don't know his situation that we need to hurry," Chen Chuan said.
The liaison said no more and immediately ordered the airship toward the island.
Those white boulders could block warships, but they could not stop an airship. Under normal circumstances, flying an airship over territory held by a martial artist was perilous and carried a high risk of being shot down, so it was rarely done. Even with a martial artist on board, the crew could not help but feel anxious.
This time, however, they encountered no trouble. Xiaoyuezhai was likely pinned down by the martial artist who had arrived first.
The airship smoothly reached the vicinity of the beach. Beyond lay sprawling clusters of buildings and woods. While they had been distinguishable from afar, a drift of dense mist rolled in as they drew overhead, immediately obscuring the ground below until it seemed as though the entire island had vanished.
Chen Chuan peered down and judged that this was likely the effect of an esoteric ritual. "Stop here," he said. "I'll drop down from this spot."
With that, he leaped from the observation deck, plunging straight into the mist.
Seeing him go, the liaison immediately had the airship turn back, then used the vessel's field organism to contact the warship.
"Mr. Chen has dropped in. Yes, there shouldn't be any problem. Mr. Chen's strength should be more than enough to handle it."
The liaison had just come from the Anying Archipelago. During his stay there, word had spread from Langtao Arena that Chen Chuan had won the match, with its master conceding defeat wholeheartedly.
The masters of the three great overseas arenas shared comparable renown, and their strength was presumably similar. Since Chen Chuan could handle Fenghe Shou with ease, he should certainly be able to handle Anyao Arena's Xiaoyuezhai!
Plummeting through the air, Chen Chuan sank into the mist. By the time the obscuring haze cleared, he was less than a dozen meters above the ground. A faint ring of light flared around him, and with a soft thud, he touched down lightly. Under the influence of his biological field, the surrounding sand rose into the air, swirling for a while before settling back down.
He looked ahead. Here, the mist no longer hindered his sight. Viewed earlier from the outside, the island had seemed quite large, though its full scope could not be seen from the air. Even so, he had learned the general layout before coming.
Anyao Arena was not as closed off as Langtao Arena or Fenglin Arena, largely because the island was home to many residents and devotees.
Ever since Master Hongfa founded the arena and spread his teachings, pilgrims had arrived in endless streams. It was considered a renowned center of Zen teachings in the Outer Ocean, and much about it was well known to the outside world.
As Master Hongfa's successor, Xiaoyuezhai wielded immense influence. Yet in the eyes of the Great Shun government, such a figure was instead an unstable factor.
Great Shun was currently working to rein in and clear away various powers across the Outer Ocean, and an unaligned martial artist was an obvious primary target. If Anyao Arena threw its weight behind the Linax Federation, the fallout would be substantial. As things stood, this incident almost seemed like a convenient pretext handed straight to Great Shun.
After observing his surroundings a moment longer, Chen Chuan found the main path. His figure vanished from the sand in a flash. Sand exploded into the air where he had stood, followed a moment later by a rolling sonic boom.
Moments later, Chen Chuan reappeared atop a large stone pillar. A deep rumbling reverberated around him, and the trees on both sides swayed violently.
Anyao Arena's Mingguan Main Hall sat on the highest plateau, making it easy to identify. However, since many residents lived on the island, he exercised restraint this time, choosing not to blast straight through obstacles and pausing to check his path before moving.
Even so, the disturbance alerted several Anyao Arena disciples guarding the road. Startled, they drew their side sabers and leveled them at the top of the pillar.
Yet with a single glance up at Chen Chuan, their hands began to tremble. They had no idea the newcomer was a martial artist, but the mutated tissue within their bodies shrank back in instinctive terror, gripping their hearts with an overwhelming dread that froze them in place.
Chen Chuan paid them no mind. After another quick look, he vanished again, reappearing directly before the Mingguan Main Hall.
Numerous Zen pillars and eternal-flame alcoves flanked the approach, and upon the plaza out front stood a statue of Master Hongfa sculpted by later generations.
No one was in sight now. The devotees who usually gathered here had vanished without a trace, leaving the surroundings eerily silent. A moment later, however, a tremor echoed from the distance. Dust trickled from the roof tiles, and vibrations reverberated against the surrounding walls.
Chen Chuan walked along the broad avenue. Though he appeared to be walking, his pace was blindingly fast, trailing faint afterimages behind him. Within a few strides, he came upon a ruined stone archway; only two large columns with inverted lotus pedestals still stood, while the stone beam and lintel plaque lay shattered on the ground.
Several disciples appearing to practice Zen sat cross-legged on either side of the path, their side sabers resting on the ground. Eyes closed, they remained motionless, their lips moving as if reciting something.
Another tremor sounded from ahead.
Chen Chuan spared them a glance, then quickly pushed past and arrived before the Mingguan Main Hall.
The structure was magnificent, its vaulted roof rising thirty to forty meters above the floor. But a massive hole had been smashed through the main entrance, jagged with splintered beams and crushed brick. Plaster dust drifted everywhere, and a battered bronze incense burner lay crumpled in a corner.
The tremors ahead started up again.
At this point, Chen Chuan was in no rush. He could tell that despite the immense force behind the impacts, they were sporadic. The two fighters were locked in a cautious duel; at such a tempo, neither would easily yield victory unless one made a major misstep.
So he slowed his pace, pressed down the brim of his hat, and stepped inside with his saber in hand.
Past the front hall, a vast open courtyard came into view, where two figures stood confronting each other.
At the far end stood a lean, wiry man. He was tall, his muscles drawn tight against his frame yet giving the impression of dense, unyielding iron. His hair was bound in a topknot, while the coarse hair at his temples bristled outward like needles. A rough shadow of stubble darkened his jaw and cheeks.
He wore a white training robe whose hem touched the ground, patterned with obscure, esoteric designs.
His eyes were striking, gleaming with an amber-yellow luminescence, and he held an Eastern Continent-style horse-chopping saber.
Near him loomed a towering figure, easily six or seven meters tall, casting a sprawling shadow across the ground.
This giant had wild, unbound hair, glaring eyes, and a prominent nose. Clad in ornate gilded armor, he held two massive war hammers the size of water vats, his entire body radiating an orange-red glow. At a glance, his path clearly belonged to that of a Consecrated Divine General.
It seemed the damage to the structures outside and along the approach had been his doing.
Strangely, a severed head wearing a tiger-head helmet lay on the ground, bearing an identical countenance.
"Brother, don't stare. That's my head. Embarrassing, really—chopped off in one stroke by that bastard, smacked face-first into the dirt, slap-bang."
Chen Chuan raised an eyebrow. So he had originally possessed two heads. This man had evidently developed his Visage of the Aberrant to a considerable depth, which explained why he had dared to storm in alone.
Looking at the giant, Chen Chuan asked, "Mr. Hu, are you all right?"
Hu Kan wasted no words on pleasantries. "This guy is fierce. Your big brother here can't quite hold him down. I need you to help me carry the field, brother."
Chen Chuan did not waste words either, turning his gaze toward the robed figure with the saber. "All right. Leave it to me."
Hu Kan added, "Watch yourself, brother. I'll take some restorative medicine and join you shortly. Be careful—his blade is nasty, wickedly fast, drifting all over the place. Even rolling my eyes as fast as I could, I couldn't keep up with it..."
Chen Chuan walked past him, heading straight forward.
Hu Kan stepped back two paces. The radiance about him dissipated, and steam billowed from his flesh. As the pieces of armor dropped away one by one, he shrank back to a normal stature.
He appeared to be a robust man in his thirties with a crew cut and a faint rogueish swagger. Sitting down on a broken Zen pillar, he began rummaging around his person.
Xiaoyuezhai watched Chen Chuan approach without making any move, resting his saber in hand.
Chen Chuan walked until he stood twenty meters away, then came to a halt.
Xiaoyuezhai glanced at the Xuejun Saber in Chen Chuan's hand and spoke in a low, gravelly voice. "Do you intend to fight me with that blade?"
"I won't use it," Chen Chuan replied. "I'm merely letting it watch." With that, a faint radiance shimmered along the scabbard. He raised his hand and drove the weapon into the hard flagstones beneath his feet, then looked up. "It already watched one match. Now it will watch another."
Xiaoyuezhai studied him and said in a heavy tone, "You're the one who fought Fenghe Shou?"
He nodded slightly. "It seems you won. Fenghe Shou appears unyielding, but he is soft and yielding at his core. His choice comes as no surprise. He believes he preserved Langtao Arena's heritage, but from the moment he made that decision, the Langtao lineage ceased to exist in the Outer Ocean."
Chen Chuan replied, "Yet in the days to come, many more people will study Langtao Arena's saber art. Is that not another form of continuity? After all, this is a new era. And what about you, Master Xiaoyue? If you throw yourself behind the Linax Federation, will you truly preserve everything you desire?"
Xiaoyuezhai said, "There are terms that Great Shun cannot offer."
Chen Chuan nodded. "In that case, I understand. Enough talk, then." He looked across the courtyard. "Mr. Xiaoyue, are you ready?"
Chapter 811