238: Chapter 238 Coming from all directions

Three days after returning from the Great Thousand Palace, the news exploded.

Like a pebble thrown into stagnant water, ripples spread outward, growing larger and larger. First, the battle report of the Demon Slaying Army leaked from the Information Hall of the Great Thousand Palace and was copied to all major heavenly domains. The wording was concise, not a single word too many or too few, yet it clearly detailed the battle of the South Sea: Spirit Hall Master Hun Feng, alone faced eighteen Spirit Grade Heavenly Sovereigns of the Evil Race, killing seventeen, capturing one alive, with only seven casualties on his side.

At the end of the battle report was the golden seal of the Great Thousand Palace, and next to it were four words personally written by the Palace Master: 'Outstanding Military Exploits.'

The golden seal plus the personal endorsement—everyone in the Great Thousand World could weigh the sheer significance of this.

The speed at which the battle report spread was faster than anyone could have anticipated. Before the Information Hall's transmission arrays could even deliver the official copies to the major forces, the news had already spread through the mouths of various merchant caravans, rogue cultivators, and mercenaries. By the third day, even in the taverns of the most remote small cities in the Northern Wilderness, people were slapping tables and talking about the Battle of the South Sea, spitting spit as they described it as if they had been standing right behind Hun Feng and witnessed it with their own eyes.

From the morning of the third day, the Imperial City became different.

Just as dawn was breaking, streaks of light kept descending over the Burning Heaven Mountain Range—rogue cultivators, disciples of minor sects, wandering Sovereign Realm experts, and even a few Earth Supremes who had rushed day and night from remote continents. Some of these people carried worn-out bags, while others had no luggage at all, standing alone outside the gates of the Imperial City, looking up at the black flame battle flag atop the city gates, their eyes holding the exact same thing.

Hope.

Hun Feng stood in front of his study window, watching the winding flow of people on the mountain path outside the city, holding his teacup in silence. Outside the window, the volcanic group at the foot of the Imperial City spewed crimson lava in the morning light, the scorching heat waves distorting the distant horizon. Hundreds of figures were converging along the mountain path toward the city gates, some flying with spiritual energy, others trekking on foot, their robes still dusty from their journeys.

Hun Qian stood behind him, holding a stack of rosters that had just been submitted today, his voice as steady as ever: "Hall Master, as of the hour of Chen today, the number of rogue cultivators who have come to join us due to your reputation has exceeded 2,700. Among them are 320 in the Sovereign Realm and six Earth Supremes. The various halls are currently filtering them according to your instructions—investigating their backgrounds, verifying their identities, and leaving no potential threats."

"Over two thousand in just three days," Hun Feng said, taking a sip of tea. "Filter them even more strictly. Quality over quantity."

Hun Qian nodded. What he did not say was that this was only the number of people registered on the first day. Even more rogue cultivators were still on the way—some coming from the Luoshen Continent in the west, some from the Jianshan Continent in the east, and even a few who had crossed half of the Great Thousand World from the Northern Wasteland Hill. The reputation the Spirit Hall had earned in the Battle of the South Sea was more effective than any recruitment order.

It wasn't just the Spirit Hall's military achievements that were spreading.

The Great Thousand Palace's exceptional appointment of Hun Feng as the Sixth Elder also caused a massive uproar among the major forces.

In the West Heaven War Palace, the West Heaven Battle Emperor sat on a tiger-skin chair, turning the battle report jade slip over and over in his hand, reading it three times. On both sides of the hall, the Four Great Battle Kings stood with their hands on their sabers, completely silent, watching their palace master place the jade slip on the desk, pick it up again, and set it down once more. The heavy pressure of the Battle Emperor of a Hundred Battles weighed down on the hall, and no one dared to speak first.

Finally, the West Heaven Battle Emperor slapped the jade slip onto the table and stood up. He was extremely tall with broad shoulders and a thick back, his dark gold armor glinting coldly under the candlelight of the hall.

"One person slaying seventeen Spirit Grade Heavenly Sovereigns," he tsked, his lips curling into a smile that wasn't quite a smile. "Back then, I led the Hundred War Legion to encircle and suppress three Spirit Grade Heavenly Sovereigns of the Evil Race, and it took a whole day and night to take them down. He did it alone, in the time it takes to drink a cup of tea—seventeen of them."

He strode down the steps, his battle boots making heavy thuds against the stone floor.

"Prepare gifts. We set out tomorrow for the Burning Heaven Mountain Range. I want to personally meet this Hun Feng."

In the Sword Domain, atop the highest solitary peak of the Jianshan Continent, the Green-Shirt Sword Saint sat cross-legged at the edge of the cliff. The mountain wind blew fiercely, fluttering his green robes, but his silver hair remained completely still in the wind. Across his knees lay an unsheathed long sword, its blade as thin as a cicada's wing, reflecting the setting sun on the horizon.

Two sword attendants silently appeared ten paces behind him, kneeling on one knee. The leader presented a jade slip with both hands and said softly, "Lord Sword Saint, the South Sea battle report."

The Green-Shirt Sword Saint did not turn around. He extended two fingers, and the jade slip flew up from the sword attendant's hand, hovering in front of him. As his divine sense swept through its contents, he remained silent for a breath, then two, before gently placing the jade slip beside his knee.

"Where are the sword attendants?"

"We are here."

"We set out tomorrow for the Burning Heaven Mountain Range. And bring along that scroll of sword manual we found in the Sword Abyss last time."

The sword attendant was stunned. That scroll of sword manual was an ancient sword dao remnant scroll treasured by the Sword Domain, of an extremely high grade. The Green-Shirt Sword Saint himself had comprehended it for thirty years and had never been willing to let an outsider catch a glimpse of it. He hesitated for a moment: "Lord Sword Saint, this... is bringing the sword manual for a sparring match?"

The Green-Shirt Sword Saint still did not open his eyes: "Someone who can slay seventeen people of the same rank by his own strength alone is worthy of this sword manual. Go."

On the same day that the West Heaven Battle Emperor and the Green-Shirt Sword Saint decided to set out, the Luoshen Continent also received the news.

In the ancestral hall of the Luoshen Clan, Luo Shen Clan Patriarch Luo Tianshen stood alone, holding the newly arrived battle report in his hand. The hall was empty, and the candlelight cast his shadow long and slanted. Outside the hall, the members of the Luoshen Clan were practicing the Sea-Suppressing World-Protection Array, the spiritual energy fluctuations of the array's operation transmitting through the hall walls, heavy and rhythmic.

Luo Shen Clan Patriarch Luo Tianshen looked to be only in his early fifties, with a clear countenance and half-white hair and beard, wearing a moon-white long robe that was slightly faded from washing. He was a Spirit Grade Heavenly Sovereign and a well-known powerhouse in the western region, but at this moment, standing in the empty hall, his brows were tightly furrowed.

The Luoshen Clan was one of the oldest clans in the Great Thousand World, where women held power and possessed noble bloodlines; the reputation of the Canglan Bloodline had once resounded throughout the entire western region. But that was in the past. Today, he was the only remaining Heavenly Supreme in the clan, the younger generation's Sovereign Realm experts could be counted on one hand, and the Sea-Suppressing World-Protection Array's power had also greatly decreased due to the dwindling of their bloodline. Various forces were eyeing them like tigers, and several major sects in the Lesser West Heaven Realm had already sent people more than once to test the border defenses of the Luoshen Continent. He didn't fear how many more years his old bones could hold out. What he feared was that if one day he could no longer hold on, Luo Li, that young girl, would have to shoulder the entire Luoshen Clan alone. She had no other reliance.

Luo Shen Clan Patriarch Luo Tianshen looked down at the battle report in his hand, his gaze resting on the words "Spirit Hall Master Hun Feng".

He naturally knew that Luo Li had taken Hun Feng as her master. When Luo Li had sent a message back to the clan about this, he had only thought that his granddaughter had met a decent mentor at the Northern Heavens Spiritual Academy and hadn't thought much of it. But now, things were different—Hun Feng was no longer just an outsider who had ascended from a Lower Plane. He was a ruthless figure who had slain seventeen Spirit Grade Heavenly Sovereigns alone, the Sixth Elder of the Great Thousand Palace, and the leader of a super force wielding sixteen Heavenly Supremes and three hundred thousand disciples of the Spirit Hall. With such a status, very few in the entire Great Thousand World would dare to provoke him.

And his granddaughter was his personal disciple. This was the greatest opportunity the Luoshen Clan had seen in tens of thousands of years.

Luo Shen Clan Patriarch Luo Tianshen slowly walked to the hall doors and pushed open the heavy bronze doors. Outside the hall, the young disciples of the Luoshen Clan were practicing on the plaza, sword lights intertwining and spiritual energy waves rising and falling. Several young female clan members clad in silver-white battle skirts threaded through the array with long swords in hand, sweat dripping from their foreheads, their movements meticulous. Though their bloodline was declining, their foundation remained; the Canglan Bloodline and the Luoshen inheritance gave a natural boost to the combat power of the clan's female cultivators, which was especially evident in Luo Li. He watched for a long time, then spoke.

"Someone, prepare a generous gift, and bring out the pair of Canglan Jade Tablets from the clan to be packaged."

The old steward behind him was stunned: "Ancestor, the Canglan Jade Tablets are our Luoshen Clan's clan-stabilizing treasure. You are—"

"Precisely because it is a clan-stabilizing treasure, it is worthy of being presented," Luo Shen Clan Patriarch Luo Tianshen turned around, a sharp light flashing in his eyes. "Go do it. Also prepare a formal visit letter written in my own hand. We set out tomorrow for the Burning Heaven Mountain Range."

On the fourth day, three more names were added to the Imperial City's visitor registry.

When Hun Qian personally presented the registry to Hun Feng, his expression was a bit more complex than usual. Hun Feng flipped open the book, glanced at it, and raised his eyebrows slightly.

Green-Shirt Sword Saint, Lord of the Sword Domain, Immortal Grade Heavenly Supreme.

West Heaven Battle Emperor, Palace Master of the West Heaven War Palace, Immortal Grade Heavenly Supreme.

Luo Shen Clan Patriarch Luo Tianshen, Ancestor of the Luoshen Clan, Spirit Grade Heavenly Sovereign.

Three people, three renowned figures of their respective regions, arriving on the same day.

"They certainly are well-informed," Hun Feng said, closing the book.

"Not just well-informed," Hun Qian said in a low voice. "These three have significant backgrounds. The Sword Domain has stayed out of worldly affairs for many years, and the Green-Shirt Sword Saint rarely visits anyone of his own accord. The West Heaven Battle Emperor is famously arrogant; ordinary forces cannot catch his eye at all. As for Luo Shen Clan Patriarch Luo Tianshen—"

"Luo Li's grandfather," Hun Feng took over the sentence, looking out the window. The volcanic ash of the Burning Heaven Mountain Range was dyed a dark red under the setting sun, like molten iron flowing across the horizon. He watched for a moment, a faint smile appearing on his lips. "With these three coming together, things are going to be interesting. Send down the order: tomorrow at the hour of Chen, we will welcome our guests in the main hall."

The next day at the hour of Chen. The main hall of the Imperial City.

The main doors of the hall were wide open, with the high-level members of the Spirit Hall lined up on both sides. Hun Feng sat high upon the main seat, with Medusa and Xiao Xiao seated to his left and right. Cai Lin had changed into a more formal dark-patterned robe with a central opening today, a silver-thread soft armor belt tied around her waist, sitting upright as her purple snake pupils calmly watched the direction of the hall doors. Xiao Xiao was still in her fiery red flowing fairy dress, an unhideable curiosity hidden in her phoenix eyes, her fingers unconsciously tapping gently on her sword hilt.

Clear footsteps echoed from outside the hall. Three distinctly different auras approached simultaneously from three directions.

The first to step through the hall doors was a green figure. The Green-Shirt Sword Saint looked to be over fifty, his silver hair neatly tied behind his head, his face thin and calm, wearing a pale, washed-out green cotton robe and hemp shoes on his feet. A sword hung at his waist, its scabbard made of plain bamboo wood without any ornamentation. Standing there, he was like a sword kept in an ordinary scabbard—unremarkable, but once drawn, no one knew how sharp it would be.

Following closely behind was the heavy sound of battle boots. The West Heaven Battle Emperor strode across the threshold, his dark gold armor reflecting a cold luster under the light of the spiritual crystals in the hall. He was burly, standing a full head taller than ordinary people, with broad shoulders and a thick back, each step he took on the ground carrying the oppressive aura of a veteran general. Upon entering, his gaze first swept around the hall before settling firmly on Hun Feng in the main seat, his lips curling into a smile that was neither polite nor provocative.

Luo Shen Clan Patriarch Luo Tianshen, who entered last, made no sound as he walked. He wore a moon-white long robe and held a red sandalwood cane, the top of which was embedded with a thumb-sized azure gem—the token of the Luoshen Clan. His gaze was more urgent than the previous two; upon entering, he quickly scanned both sides of the hall before finally stopping on Hun Feng, a trace of complex and indescribable emotion flashing in his eyes.

"Green-Shirt Sword Saint, I have long heard of your great name," Hun Feng stood up and clasped his hands.

The Green-Shirt Sword Saint nodded slightly, his expression indifferent: "Hall Master Hun is too polite. I heard that in the Battle of the South Sea, Hall Master Hun alone slew seventeen Heavenly Supremes of the Evil Race. I have practiced the sword for twenty thousand years and pride myself on my mastery of the sword dao. Today, I would like to ask Hall Master Hun for some guidance. I wonder if Hall Master Hun would do me the honor?"

As his voice fell, the hall fell silent for a moment. Several branch hall masters looked at each other—the Sword Saint of the Sword Domain's very first words upon visiting were to ask for a sparring match; this etiquette was simply too direct.

Hun Feng, however, laughed. He had met too many people, and a pure sword fanatic like the Green-Shirt Sword Saint was actually the easiest to deal with. No beating around the bush, no scheming; if he wanted to spar, he just said so.

"Since the Sword Saint has come from afar, sparring is of course fine," Hun Feng walked down the steps. "But before that, let us have a cup of tea first."

The Green-Shirt Sword Saint nodded and walked over to the guest seat, sitting down. His movements were swift, with absolutely no hesitation.

The West Heaven Battle Emperor strode forward, his armor making a crisp metallic clatter as he clasped his hands: "Hall Master Hun, I am the West Heaven Battle Emperor. You fought eighteen alone in the South Sea, beautifully done! I have no other hobbies; I just like to trade blows with the strong. I came today first to make a friend, and second to have a fight. What do you say, will you give me this face?"

These words were even more direct than the Green-Shirt Sword Saint's. Hun Feng couldn't help but laugh: "The Battle Emperor is indeed a straightforward speaker. A fight is definitely on, but—"

"But what?"

"But you have to take a number." Hun Feng pointed to the Green-Shirt Sword Saint, who had already begun to close his eyes and rest his mind. "Whether you go first or he goes first, you two can discuss it among yourselves."

The West Heaven Battle Emperor glanced at the Green-Shirt Sword Saint and laughed heartily: "Fine! Then I'll be second."

Luo Shen Clan Patriarch Luo Tianshen was the last to step forward. Leaning on his cane, he walked up to Hun Feng, clasped his hands in greeting, and bowed slightly, his posture a few notches lower than the previous two: "I, Luo Shen Clan Patriarch Luo Tianshen, Patriarch of the Luoshen Clan. My sudden visit this time is, first, because I heard of Hall Master Hun's great reputation and came specifically to pay my respects; second—"

He paused, raised his head, and lowered his voice slightly, with an undetectable hint of testing: "My granddaughter, Luo Li, has been favored by Hall Master Hun and taken in as a personal disciple. My coming this time is also to thank the Hall Master in person."

Hun Feng looked at him. The old man before him was thin, the hem of his moon-white robe slightly faded, yet his posture remained straight. The azure gem embedded in that red sandalwood cane emitted gentle spiritual energy fluctuations—it was of no low rank, a genuine Sacred Object. However, the Luoshen Clan had long since declined, and this Sacred Object was likely an old asset left behind by their ancestors. His bringing it out today was both a gift and a statement: although the Luoshen Clan had declined, their heritage remained, and they would not take advantage of others for free.

This old man was paving the way for his granddaughter, and also seeking a way of survival for his entire clan.

"Patriarch Luo, there is no need for such formality," Hun Feng raised his hand slightly to support him, his tone carrying a bit more warmth than before. "Luo Li is my personal disciple; her matters are the Spirit Hall's matters. Please, take a seat."

Hearing these words, Luo Shen Clan Patriarch Luo Tianshen's eyes reddened slightly. He did not say anything more, only solemnly clasping his hands before retreating to the guest seat and sitting down. Resting his cane on his knees, his aged fingers gently rubbed the head of the cane, his knuckles turning slightly white before slowly relaxing.

Hun Feng returned to the main seat and clapped his hands. Maidservants entered in single file, holding teacups and pastries, their footsteps light and silent. The fragrance of tea quickly filled the entire main hall.

"The three of you have come from afar, so let us drink tea first. As for the sparring, we can talk about it after we finish drinking."

The tea in the main hall was drunk for half an hour.

During this half hour, the behavior of the three visitors was completely different. The Green-Shirt Sword Saint sat as upright as a pine, barely touching the tea to his lips before setting it down, closing his eyes to rest his mind the entire time as if everything around him had nothing to do with him. The West Heaven Battle Emperor, on the other hand, drank several cups, sizing up the decorations in the hall as he drank, his gaze lingering for an extra moment on the twin swords at Xiao Xiao's waist, a hint of curiosity appearing in his eyes. Luo Shen Clan Patriarch Luo Tianshen held his teacup but didn't drink much, his gaze drifting toward Hun Feng from time to time, looking as if he wanted to speak but hesitated.

Hun Feng took all of this in. He leisurely sipped his tea, occasionally chatting with the West Heaven Battle Emperor about the battle situation in the South Sea, and occasionally bringing up matters of the sword dao with the Green-Shirt Sword Saint. The Green-Shirt Sword Saint had no reaction to other topics, but the moment the sword was mentioned, his half-closed eyes would open.

After three rounds of tea, the Green-Shirt Sword Saint set down his teacup.

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"The tea is finished. Can we spar now?"

He asked very earnestly, without a hint of provocation, as casually as if he were asking "Is it time to eat?" Hun Feng set down his teacup and stood up: "Please."

The Imperial City Martial Arena is located behind the main hall, backed by a semi-dormant volcano.

The arena is paved with profound iron stone, and surrounded by layers of reinforced spiritual arrays—this is where the Heavenly Supremes of the Spirit Hall spar daily; the strength of the arrays can withstand a full-strength strike from an Immortal Grade Heavenly Supreme without collapsing.

The Green-Shirt Sword Saint walked to the center of the arena and unfastened the longsword with a bamboo scabbard from his waist.

He did not draw his sword, but simply stood in the wind gripping the scabbard, his green shirt fluttering.

"I cultivate the Myriad Sword Return to Origin Technique." He spoke, his voice not loud, yet every word reached the ears of everyone present clearly.

"This sword technique uses intent to control the sword; once the sword is drawn, there is no regret. Hall Master of the Soul Hall, please show your weapon."

Hun Feng walked to a spot ten zhang opposite him and opened his right hand.

The Heaven-Slaying Flame rose from his palm, surging black flames condensing into a pitch-black longsword.

Firelight flowed along the blade, yet not a trace of heat leaked out—all the temperature was compressed within three feet of the blade's edge.

Seeing this sword, the West Heaven Battle Emperor's eyes lit up, and he took half a step forward with his arms crossed.

"A good sword." The Green-Shirt Sword Saint stared at the black flame longsword for two breaths, then looked up, a flash of sharp light in his eyes.

"I will only strike one sword. This strike is what I realized during three hundred years of seclusion. Please, Hall Master of the Soul Hall, critique it."

He drew his sword.

The moment the sword left the sheath, there was no sword light, no sword qi, not even a sound.

Only a faint green shadow streaked across the Martial Arena—that was sword intent.

Pure sword intent, solidified to the extreme, even splitting the air in two.

The essence of this strike was not sharpness, but "intent."

Before the sword arrived, the intent had already arrived.

If the opponent's will was not firm, they would have been defeated before the sword intent even touched them.

Hun Feng did not dodge.

He raised his hand, and the black flame longsword slashed horizontally three feet in front of him.

The Heaven-Slaying Flame carved a pitch-black arc in mid-air, colliding head-on with that green shadow.

With a muffled "boom," sword qi and black flames exploded, the Martial Arena's reinforced spiritual arrays flashed violently, and the profound iron stone on the ground was shaken with spiderweb-like cracks.

The shockwave rolled back, causing the flags at the edge of the arena to flap loudly, and Xiao Xiao's hair was blown backward.

She reached up to hold her temple, a look of shock flashing in her eyes—the aftershocks of this strike, even through the spiritual array, were enough to make her, an Upper Earth Sovereign, unable to stand steady.

When the smoke and dust dispersed, the Green-Shirt Sword Saint was still standing in the same spot, his longsword already re-sheathed.

He looked down at his hand that held the sword; the web of his thumb was slightly red.

"I have practiced the Myriad Sword Return to Origin Technique for twenty thousand years."

He looked up at Hun Feng, silent for a breath, then suddenly smiled—a faint smile, fleeting, but he truly smiled.

"Only today do I realize, there are heavens beyond heavens."

He walked forward, took out a yellowed jade slip from his robes, and handed it to Hun Feng with both hands.

"This is an ancient sword dao fragment treasured by the Sword Domain. I have studied it for thirty years and gained much. Today, having met the Hall Master of the Soul Hall, this scroll should be gifted to someone fated."

Hun Feng took the jade slip and swept his divine sense through its contents, his pupils slightly constricting.

This sword manual did not record a complete cultivation technique, but rather the sword intent insights left behind by an ancient Sword Saint—from entry to mastery, from tangible to intangible, from using qi to control the sword to using intent to control the sword.

With the Sword Domain possessing such an item, it was no wonder the Green-Shirt Sword Saint could sit securely as the master of the Sword Domain for twenty thousand years with only his sword.

For Mu Chen, that disciple who had already begun cultivating sword dao, such sword intent insights were of immeasurable value.

"Such a generous gift from the Sword Saint, this junior dares not refuse."

Hun Feng solemnly put away the jade slip and cupped his hands.

"In the future, if the Sword Domain has any trouble, the Spirit Hall will be a friend to the Sword Domain."

The Green-Shirt Sword Saint nodded and turned to walk to the side of the arena.

The West Heaven Battle Emperor had been waiting impatiently; he tightened the bracers on his armor and strode into the center of the arena, his every step making the profound iron stone hum.

"Hall Master of the Soul Hall, it's my turn!"

He knocked his fists together in front of his chest, and dark golden spiritual energy surged out from his body.

Behind him, a looming giant shadow appeared in the void—that was the projection of the Hundred Battles Emperor's Life-Bound Battle Array.

Countless phantoms of weapons swirled around the giant shadow, the sound of killing shaking the heavens, as if an army of thousands was lined up and ready behind him.

"This Life-Bound Battle Array of mine, the Hundred Battles Emperor Array, needs some time to fully unfold. Let's fight to our hearts' content!"

Hun Feng looked at the gradually solidifying battle array projection behind him, a look of keen interest flashing in his eyes.

The way of the battle array is about gathering sand to form a tower, using one to unify ten thousand—no matter how strong an individual is, they are still just one person, but the battle array of the Hundred War Legion can gather the strength of ten thousand into one place, erupting with power far exceeding the limits of a single individual.

This skill is unique; in the entire Great Thousand World, one could not find a second team capable of going head-to-head with the Hundred War Legion.

He put away the black flame longsword, shook his arms, and the Heaven-Slaying Flame transformed into nine pitch-black fire dragons behind him.

Each fire dragon was as solid as a living creature, with distinct scales and claws, and deep black flames dancing in their dragon eyes.

"Come."

The two attacked simultaneously.

The battle array projection behind the Battle Emperor suddenly contracted, transforming into a massive dark golden war hammer that descended from the sky, smashing toward Hun Feng—before the hammer landed, the ground of the Martial Arena had already begun to sink, and the profound iron stone was crushed into cracks by the invisible pressure.

The nine fire dragons behind Hun Feng roared in unison, soaring into the sky to collide with the war hammer.

The commotion of this collision was more than ten times greater than the previous sword strike.

The reinforced spiritual arrays of the Martial Arena lit up all at once, then went dark—shocked into temporary failure for a full three breaths.

Several Branch Hall Masters at the edge of the arena acted simultaneously to reinforce the array, preventing the shockwave from rushing out of the arena.

When the smoke and dust dispersed, the West Heaven Battle Emperor had retreated three steps, each step leaving a half-inch deep footprint in the profound iron stone.

He looked down at the armor on his chest—a long, thin crack cut diagonally from his left shoulder to his right rib, the edges neat and smooth.

It was left by the Heaven-Slaying Flame, but Hun Feng had held back his strength, breaking only the armor and not harming the person.

The West Heaven Battle Emperor was silent for two breaths, then threw his head back and laughed.

His laughter was boisterous, shaking the flags around the Martial Arena: "Satisfying! Truly satisfying! Worthy of a ruthless person who single-handedly slew seventeen Heavenly Supremes! This fight was worth it!"

He unfastened a token from his waist and tossed it toward Hun Feng.

Hun Feng raised his hand to catch it.

The front of the token was engraved with the character "War," and the back was engraved with his title—West Heaven Battle Emperor, Emperor of a Hundred Battles.

"This is my Battle Emperor Token. Whoever holds this token is an honored guest of our West Heaven War Palace! In the future, if Hall Master of the Soul Hall comes to the Lesser West Heaven Realm, I will personally set out wine!"

He was a man of his word, his tone forthright, without a shred of displeasure at having been defeated.

To him, being able to have a satisfying fight with a strong opponent was more important than anything else.

Hun Feng tucked the Battle Emperor Token into his robes and cupped his hands: "I appreciate the Battle Emperor's hospitality and will surely pay a return visit another day. Please, come inside."

The sparring ended, and both host and guests were delighted.

When the crowd dispersed, the Green-Shirt Sword Saint walked alone at the very front, his steps composed, showing no sign of the disappointment of his narrow defeat—perhaps to him, losing to a stronger opponent was itself a rare harvest.

The West Heaven Battle Emperor was still enthusiastically reviewing the force and angle of that hammer strike with his adjutant, laughing heartily when he reached the exciting parts.

Luo Shen Clan Patriarch Luo Tianshen had stood by the side of the Martial Arena for a long time.

He had watched the entire process of the two sparring matches, not speaking from beginning to end, only gripping that rosewood cane with both hands, his knuckles slightly turning white.

It was not until everyone returned to the hall one after another that he hurried to catch up with Hun Feng and spoke in a low voice at the corner of the corridor.

"Hall Master of the Soul Hall, I have one more matter I would like to discuss with you privately."

Hun Feng stopped and glanced back at him.

The old man stood in the shadows of the corridor, sunlight leaking in between the pillars, falling mottled on his worn moon-white robe.

There was expectation in his eyes, anxiety, and a kind of awkwardness that only appears when an elder asks someone for help.

Hun Feng nodded to Cai Lin and Xiao Xiao, signaling them to leave first, then tilted his head toward a side hall nearby: "Clan Patriarch Luo, please come inside."

The door of the side hall closed gently.

There were only two people left in the hall.

Luo Shen Clan Patriarch Luo Tianshen sat in the guest seat, his hands crossed over the dragon head of his cane, and remained silent for a good while before speaking.

"Hall Master of the Soul Hall, I will not beat around the bush."

His voice was a bit more hoarse than it had been in the main hall.

"Regarding the situation of the Luoshen Clan, I wonder if you have heard anything?"

Hun Feng sat down in the main seat, not speaking, only nodding slightly.

"We have been in decline for many years, with internal troubles and external threats."

Luo Shen Clan Patriarch Luo Tianshen spoke these words slowly, each one as if squeezed out from between his teeth.

"I am the only Heavenly Supreme left in the clan. My old bones can still hold on for a few more years, I am not afraid. But Luo Li is still young; she cannot shoulder the entire Luoshen Clan alone."

"Those surrounding powers have sent people to test our borders more than once—the Wuji Sect of the Lesser West Heaven Realm, the Blood Spirit Sect, and several other sects colluding with the Blood God Clan are all waiting for an opportunity."

"They know that without a Heavenly Supreme presiding over the Vast Sea World-Suppressing Array, it cannot stop them at all."

He looked up, his gaze fixed on Hun Feng: "Hall Master of the Soul Hall is Luo Li's master. I did not come today to curry favor, but to seek protection. If the Luoshen Clan can obtain the protection of the Spirit Hall, the Luoshen Clan will be the Spirit Hall's firmest ally in the West. I am also willing to let this old life of mine be driven by you, Hall Master."

The hall fell quiet.

Hun Feng looked at the old man before him.

Luo Shen Clan Patriarch Luo Tianshen had said so much, without a single empty word—he had not deliberately exaggerated the situation of the Luoshen Clan, nor had he used his granddaughter's relationship to play the emotional card.

He simply laid his cards on the table and waited for him to speak.

This kind of candor carried more weight than any flowery words.

"Clan Patriarch Luo." Hun Feng spoke, his tone calm.

"Luo Li is my direct disciple. Regarding her affairs, there is no need to discuss conditions. The Spirit Hall will protect the Luoshen Clan; this is my promise to her."

He stood up and walked to the window, gazing at the flapping black flame battle flag on the Imperial City square.

The midday sun shone through the glass window onto his shoulder, casting half his face into the boundary between light and shadow.

"However, protection alone is not enough. The Luoshen Clan does not need to hide behind others forever."

He turned around and looked at Luo Shen Clan Patriarch Luo Tianshen.

"I have a proposal. The Spirit Hall needs a stronghold in the West—the location of the Luoshen Continent is very suitable."

"I will send people to the Luoshen Continent to help you rebuild the Vast Sea World-Suppressing Array, assist in reorganizing defenses, and train the young disciples of the clan."

"In exchange, the Luoshen Continent will carve out an area to serve as the Spirit Hall's western base."

"The form of the alliance will remain unchanged; the Luoshen Clan will still be the Luoshen Clan, and the Spirit Hall will not interfere in your clan's internal affairs."

"This way, the Luoshen Clan can recover its strength, and the Spirit Hall can also gain a firm foothold in the West. What do you think?"

Luo Shen Clan Patriarch Luo Tianshen looked up, light flashing in his eyes.

He had originally only wanted to seek protection, a promise, so that the Luoshen Clan would not have to struggle alone while besieged on all sides.

But what Hun Feng gave was not just protection—he wanted to let the Luoshen Clan stand up again.

Moreover, in his proposal, the Spirit Hall would not interfere in the Luoshen Clan's internal affairs, which was an extremely rare concession in an alliance relationship.

"Hall Master of the Soul Hall." Luo Shen Clan Patriarch Luo Tianshen stood up, his cane tapping lightly on the ground, his voice trembling slightly.

"I have lived to this age and have seen many people. There are not many like you, Hall Master, who value both loyalty and propriety. This proposal, I, on behalf of all the members of the Luoshen Clan—"

He cupped his hands and bowed deeply.

"Accept."

That evening, Hun Feng hosted a banquet in the Imperial City to entertain the three guests.

The Green-Shirt Sword Saint sat in a corner, with only a pot of clear tea and a plate of vegetarian snacks in front of him.

The West Heaven Battle Emperor, however, drank happily, downing three bowls of wine in a row, pulling on Soul Mie Sheng's arm and insisting on chatting with him about the joint operations of the Hundred War Legion and the Spirit Hall.

Soul Mie Sheng looked at this wine-soaked Battle Emperor with a baffled expression; hindered by the fact that the Hall Master was present, he could not flare up, and could only bite the bullet and drink a bowl with him.

Luo Shen Clan Patriarch Luo Tianshen sat at Hun Feng's lower right, his wine glass barely touched, but his expression was much more relaxed than when he had arrived.

Midway through the banquet, he picked up his wine glass and stood up, raising it toward Hun Feng.

He did not speak, only nodded, then drank it in one gulp.

Hun Feng returned the toast with a cup.

During the banquet, the West Heaven Battle Emperor, in high spirits, suddenly slapped the table and shouted: "Hall Master of the Soul Hall! That disciple of yours, Mu Chen, I've heard of him; back at the Northern Heavens Spiritual Academy, he dared to go up against people from the Blood God Clan. He has guts! One day, let him come to my war camp for training; I guarantee I'll forge him into good steel!"

Hun Feng held his wine cup and smiled: "That depends on him. That kid has a mind of his own; even I, his master, sometimes cannot control him."

Everyone laughed.

After the banquet dispersed, the Imperial City gradually quieted down.

The night wind of the Burning Heaven Mountain Range blew over the city walls, carrying a faint sulfur smell.

In the distance, the lava gushing from the volcano crater emitted a dark red light in the night, like the pulse of the earth.

Hun Feng stood alone at the window of his study, holding the three things he had received today—the ancient sword intent fragment from the Green-Shirt Sword Saint, the Battle Emperor Token from the West Heaven Battle Emperor, and the Canglan Jade Disk personally presented by Luo Shen Clan Patriarch Luo Tianshen.

Three things, three kinds of weight.

Cai Lin pushed the door open, walked to his side, and glanced at the things in his hand.

"Everything arranged?"

"Everything arranged."

Hun Feng put away the three items and reached out to wrap his arm around her shoulder.

"Starting tomorrow, there will be much to do."

"When are you ever not busy?"

Cai Lin said indifferently, her tone devoid of complaint, merely stating a fact.

Hun Feng did not reply, only pulling her closer into his embrace.

Outside the window, the ten thousand lights of the Imperial City shone, and the battle flag of the Spirit Hall flapped loudly in the night wind.

Three days later, the West Heaven Battle Emperor and the Green-Shirt Sword Saint departed separately.

Luo Shen Clan Patriarch Luo Tianshen stayed in the Imperial City for one extra day, detailing the site selection and defense arrangements for the Spirit Hall's western base with Hun Feng.

On the morning of the fourth day, he also set off on his return journey.

Before leaving, he stood outside the Imperial City gate, looked back at the black flame battle flag on the gate, and remained silent for a long time.

The pair of Canglan Jade Disks were not taken back—Hun Feng had accepted them.

This meant that the alliance between the Spirit Hall and the Luoshen Clan officially took effect from this day on.

The news quickly spread throughout the Great Thousand World.

The Spirit Hall allied with the Sword Domain, allied with the West Heaven War Palace, and allied with the Luoshen Clan.

Three major powers visited on the same day, and on the same day, established ties with the Spirit Hall.

Added to the Sixth Elder seat of the Great Thousand Palace and the recognition as a super power, the rise of the Spirit Hall was no longer the personal legend of an ascender—it was becoming one of the new centers of power in the Great Thousand World.

And all of this, from the time Hun Feng stepped into the Great Thousand World, was but a few years.

At the foot of the Burning Heaven Mountain Range, the stream of rogue cultivators coming to join by reputation was still endless.

Where there are people, there is hope.

And hope was gathering toward the Imperial City.