Chapter 156 - The Truth Dyed in Crimson (Part I) (Patreon)

Lucian stood up, focusing on healing his wounds and consuming the remaining blood on the battlefield through the hidden crimson eye of the Rune of Greed. He also wanted to hunt a few cultivators, knowing about the chaos outside, but given the fact that the City Lord was aware of their movements, he decided not to be too greedy. For now.

Looking forward, Lucian saw the Foundation Establishment cultivators split into two groups, talking to each other. Hearing their heartbeats and smelling their sweat, Lucian knew they were anxious, no matter how cold their expressions were.

“Some say the first Authority he grasped is under the Dao of Dreams,” Zhi Jian said, appearing beside Lucian out of the blue with a smile. “You know, all those feathers and scales. They look like they aren’t real at all, but they affect the material plane.”

Lucian gave Zhi Jian a strange look and nodded, not engaging in the conversation. Terms like Authority, Dao, and material plane could wait in line because he had more to understand at first. Sure, he hadn’t forgotten that the swordsman had saved him, but he couldn’t trust someone with so much strength.

Next, Zhi Jian pointed forward. “The others are waiting. You should go.”

Lucian slowly walked in Grandmaster Miao’s direction, not surprised when Zhi Jian followed a few steps behind him.

He must be with Grandmaster Miao, Lucian thought, focusing ahead and checking on the others. I hope they can explain what they were planning. Falling into a trap to kill me is one thing, but looking misinformed enrages me far more!

When he stood close to them, Lucian stopped and observed each cultivator.

Grandmaster Miao looked the same as before, his cyan Qi lines disappearing. The ones visible through Qi perception, the usual blurred ones that left his body, spread through the dark sky.

Beside him, there were the Wu brothers, standing atop a sand construct. Their faces were pale as they drank from a gourd filled with Qi and popped brownish and greenish pills into their mouths from time to time.

A bit farther, Councillor Mu, though distressed and covered in scorched marks, stood upright with his back straight. He glanced coldly at Lucian before nodding in Zhi Jian’s direction.

Wei Zhang, wearing his common clothes, was beside the Councillor and appeared unscathed. However, some parts of his body shone faintly, as if a lantern were illuminating him from within.

As for Zou Si, the only woman in the group, she sat cross-legged on the sand construct along with the Wu brothers. Her Qi was disturbed, but otherwise she had no wounds or abnormalities.

After a few seconds, Grandmaster Miao glanced at Zhi Jian with a frown.  Then, he cleared his throat and said to everyone, “Follow me in silence to the Feathered Serpent Castle, and let me explain things to the City Lord.”

Next, he turned to Lucian and Zhi Jian.

“He may or may not ask questions about you, so be prepared,” Grandmaster Miao said, nodding to Lucian. Then he glanced at Zhi Jian with a puzzled look. “And you, Fellow Daoist. If I had known you would come, I would have changed a few parts of my plan.”

Waving his hand, Zhi Jian gave a small chuckle and smiled with his eyes. “I didn’t want to bother you. There’s no need to change anything because of me.”

Shaking his head, Grandmaster Miao did not press him. After a wave of his hand to signal the others, he began walking ahead of everyone, in the direction of the Feathered Serpent Castle.

Amidst their walk, Lucian said, as his arm and chest squirmed with blood, slowly recovering from his wounds, “I suppose walking works, but flying would make this quicker.”

Councillor Mu shot him a cold glance, while Zou Si and the Wu brothers, focused on healing, ignored him entirely. Meanwhile, Zhi Jian chuckled at Lucian’s words, and Wei Zhang sighed with a shake of his head.

“Young Master Bo Xian,” Grandmaster Miao said through gritted teeth. “Flying is prohibited. Only in a life-and-death scenario, such as during a battle, may one do it.”

He knew Lucian was aware of the rules, so he was mildly irritated!

Then, he continued, “Besides, pulling seedlings to help them grow doesn’t work. One needs to be patient to obtain fruitful results, so we must walk without haste.”

He’s telling us that we can take our time getting there, Lucian thought with an inward nod, glancing at the others. I see. I’m not the only one who needs time to heal.

When they passed by the district’s threshold, Lucian saw that the streets near the Broken Maze were akin to ghost towns, filled with lamps but devoid of people. Barrels of food and goods had been abandoned here and there, alongside a few bodies scattered on the ground.

In a stampede where people ran for their lives, it was obvious that the weaker and unlucky would suffer more.

Shrugging, Lucian smelled the air, searching for Wang Chen, and frowned. He looked to the alley where he had left Wang Chen, and he was about to check when Zhi Jian whistled.

“No need to worry,” Zhi Jian said, his hands behind his back as he followed Grandmaster Miao’s group. “I sent someone to pick up your servant. You’re welcome!”

Meeting Zhi Jian’s eyes for a moment, Lucian stared at him coldly, then nodded without saying anything.

There are so many reasons for this guy to do this, Lucian thought with a sigh. Maybe he discovered Xu Hua’s death, or Resonant Sea Ancestor’s split soul, or Wang Chen’s talent. Maybe he allied with Madame Ching, or maybe it’s something else entirely. Did I focus so much on cultivation that I forgot how to deal with these people?

Shaking his head, Lucian decided to focus on healing his wounds for now. Of course, he wouldn’t abandon Wang Chen. That tree still had plenty of fruit to give. But he had to prioritize.

As they walked, someone from Madame Ching’s group detached himself from their formation and approached Grandmaster Miao’s side. With haste, all the cultivators locked their senses onto the new arrival.

The Wu brothers, in particular, felt a shiver crawl down their spines at the sight of the shirtless, muscular man.

Staying a few steps away from Grandmaster Miao’s group, yet continuing to walk forward alongside them, Lord Ye Ren flexed his muscles, and his bone ornaments shook. Then, he spoke in a deep voice, pointing at Lucian.

“Young Master Bo Xian,” he said, his eyes bright with a peculiar glint. “After your body is healed and you feel energized, come entertain me!”

Lucian glanced at him, then groaned. If he still had hands, he would have covered his face.

Grandmaster Miao had never seen Lucian with such an expression before, and it brought a smile to his lips. He decided not to interrupt.

The others didn’t care enough to say anything. In fact, they were more than happy for Ye Ren to bother Lucian instead of them.

Meanwhile, Lucian was thinking, He’s just like that battle lunatic.

Remembering the man titled King of Mutants and Traitor of Mankind, who was also a Beyond the Supreme entity, Lucian shuddered inwardly. He couldn’t help but glance at Zhi Jian, then at the eager Ye Ren.

A man who likes to fight, and a man who feels pleasure from fighting. That’s the difference between them, Lucian thought, nodding to Ye Ren. I should agree for now. I don’t want him close to me.

Seeing Lucian’s nod of agreement, Lord Ye Ren laughed boisterously and waved, as if saying goodbye, before returning to his group.

No one commented on this, and the silent procession resumed.

As they walked, guards and lesser cultivators opened a path for them, clearing the streets and making sure no passersby approached.

Whether they were servants of the Bo Merchant Chamber, crew members from the Deep Shadow Fleet, or attendants to the sect representatives, none of them were allowed to follow, but they could help clean the streets.

Hours later, after intentionally taking as much time as they could, the cultivators arrived before the first gate of the Feathered Serpent Castle, divided clearly by an imaginary line.

On Madame Ching’s side, there were ten figures, two of those unconscious and one hidden.

Madame Ching’s layered robes of red and pink were still neat, her silk mask covering her mouth as golden amulets and necklaces shimmered faintly from her arms and neck. Her peak-stage cultivation pulsed lightly around her. She was the leader of her group, without a doubt.

Beside her, Vermilion Tide’s golden robes seemed almost untouched, the red dragon-like patterns across them catching the moonlight whenever she moved. Her red and gold makeup remained flawless, making her look far less like someone returning from battle and more like a noble stepping into court.

Behind them, Lord Ye Ren looked completely unscathed. His bronze skin glistened with sweat, his scarred chest bare beneath his bone necklace, and the eager light in his eyes had not faded in the slightest. From time to time, he glanced at Lucian, holding his excitement.

Princess Pao Pao remained inside her wooden palanquin of roots, leaves, and branches, draped in silk and foliage. Four fresh puppets now carried her, replacing the ones destroyed earlier, while she sat within, as if the chaos had merely inconvenienced her. She was even eating while on there.

Scribe Gui Mao stood nearby, slightly detached from the group, his skeletal frame swallowed by black robes. Flickering starlight appeared and vanished beneath the fabric, showing he was wounded. Adding to that, one of his arms was gone, and the black turtle shell was strapped to his back, cracked and stained with dried blood.

Those last three were representatives of the Ten Thousand Echoes Island, Whispering Banyan Sect, and Falling Star Palace, all Core Disciples at the high stage of the Foundation Establishment Realm.

The couple from the Vast Sky Sect, meanwhile, were at the early stage of their realm. Having changed clothes to less luxurious robes, their faces were pale, their auras weakened, and the birds that had once perched on them were nowhere to be seen.

Then, floating behind Madame Ching’s group were Shuang Tai and Tie Qiu, both half-dead. They were unconscious, their bodies limp as they drifted through the air under the control of someone else’s Qi.

Meanwhile, Mei Huo lingered in the shadows behind them, deactivating her shadow technique and allowing others to see her short hair, muscular body, and tattooed arms.

On the other group’s side, there were eight people. They appeared to be fewer in number and less in strength.

Grandmaster Miao wore brown cultivator robes, his short black hair neat, and the red dot tattoo on his forehead still clear. The invisible Qi lines around him were being pulled inward, cutting his connection with the outside. He didn't dare to enter the Feathered Serpent Castle while maintaining contact with others.

Beside him, Zhi Jian looked as harmless as ever, his youthful appearance and innocent eyes making him seem like a curious child scanning his surroundings. He wore the Sailor School uniform, a sword hanging from his waist, while the flying sword he had used before was nowhere to be seen.

Both were peak-stage cultivators of the Foundation Establishment realm, and together they stood at the front of the group.

Behind them were the five others at the Foundation Establishment realm: two high-stage cultivators, one middle-stage cultivator, and two early-stage cultivators.

Councillor Mu’s military robes were scorched from the fight, but the old man’s back remained straight. His white hair and beard were disheveled, yet his expression was still cold and stern, his hands behind his back and his chin raised. He glanced at everyone, except at Lucian.

Wei Zhang, with his common middle-aged face and dressed in plain robes, would have seemed untouched if not for the less frequent spots of light flickering beneath his skin. It was clear that he and the Scribe Gui Mao had caused hidden wounds in one another. 

Zou Si remained quiet in her black robes, her body covered, and her Qi flow almost recovered. She had left the sand construct and now walked beside the rest. She appeared lost in thought, not sharing glances with anyone.

Further back, the Wu brothers looked far worse. Their simple robes were dirty, and their tanned faces were pale and weakened. Wu Zhai’s bald head made him easy to distinguish from Wu Zong, whose long hair hung messily over his shoulders.

And in the middle of all these cultivators, stood Lucian.

He wore a tattered black robe, flexing his newly restored hands as the last of his wounds healed beneath the fabric. Under the night sky, his eyes shone with a faint crimson hue.

It’s time to meet this legendary founder of Three Feathers City and discover the truth behind tonight’s events, Lucian thought, observing the gates being opened. City Lord Kun Fei Xing, don't you dare let these people leave without forcing the truth out of their mouths!