Chapter 167 - 100: Humans Have Eyes, But Divine Techniques Are Blind

Chapter 167: Chapter 100: Humans Have Eyes, But Divine Techniques Are Blind

"If he is the victor, he may ask for whatever he wishes. My True Form Temple will not utter a single word of protest."

Song Yuming’s heart trembled. ’This man... He never cared about any ransom or saving face, nor did he fear escalating the conflict with the Moyun Sect. He wants to stomp the Moyun Sect into the mud! To single-handedly reverse the decline of the True Form Temple! This man...’

In an instant, Song Yuming understood what Xuzhuang was thinking.

In the Celestial Waterfall Realm, cultivators and mortals coexisted, so the common folk were quite familiar with the Cultivation Realm. The True Form Temple’s current predicament was a perfect example of just how crucial a sect’s prestige was.

The True Form Temple had been weak for a long time, its reputation in decline. This made it extremely difficult to recruit disciples in Yunlan Province. Meanwhile, the nearby Moyun Sect and Divine Flow Sect were able to recruit extensively from Yunlan Province. Over decades and centuries, this disparity grew—the strong became stronger, while the weak teetered on the brink... destined to eventually perish in the Celestial Waterfall Realm.

Once Xuzhuang’s strategy was revealed, there was no room for negotiation left between the Moyun Sect and the True Form Temple.

A Golden Core Cultivator challenging a mighty Nascent Soul Venerable. Whether the Moyun Sect refused the fight or lost at Xuzhuang’s hands, their reputation would suffer a massive blow, perhaps even shaking their very foundation. To break this stalemate, their only option was to accept the challenge.

The only question was, as a Golden Core Cultivator, did Xuzhuang truly have the confidence to wager the fates of two sects on a duel against a Nascent Soul Venerable?

No one present was a fool; they understood the implications immediately. The first to speak, however, was the usually impetuous Zeng Quanfeng, who said in a low voice, "Martial Uncle, you are the pillar that holds up our True Form Temple. How can you put yourself in such danger?"

Daoist Zhang’s expression turned grave as he agreed, "Martial Uncle, what Junior Brother Zeng says is not without reason. With you leading the sect, the True Form Temple is no longer in decline. In the future, when you achieve the Nascent Soul realm, our time to rise will naturally come. Why the rush?"

Xuzhuang naturally knew of Zhang’s and Zeng’s worries. However, he had long contemplated this duel with the Moyun Sect, and there were two reasons for his insistence now.

First, the True Form Temple’s situation was simply too dire. The number of disciples was decreasing rather than increasing. If this decline continued, by the time he reached the Nascent Soul realm, the True Form Temple would have decayed to a critical point. Besides, after reaching the Nascent Soul realm, he might not stay in the Celestial Waterfall Realm for much longer. He was, after all, acting as the interim leader of the True Form Temple. It would be unacceptable if the sect was a complete mess under his stewardship.

Second, because the True Form Temple was weak, it was already surviving in the cracks between the Moyun Sect and the Divine Flow Sect. Now that all pretenses had been dropped, if he didn’t bare his fangs, he would be constantly bothered by endless trouble, even if all he wanted was to cultivate in peace.

Therefore, Xuzhuang’s decision was twofold. First, to suppress the Moyun Sect, turn the tables, and restore the True Form Temple’s prestige in one fell swoop. Then, they would no longer face the current predicament of being unable to recruit disciples. Second, it was to display his power and intimidate the Divine Flow Sect. This would buy the True Form Temple some breathing room and also allow him to truly cultivate in peace.

Of course, Xuzhuang was no brainless, reckless fool. With his array of abilities, he was confident that he had few rivals among Golden Core Cultivators. But to contend with a Nascent Soul Venerable, he would have to see the opponent’s cultivation level and techniques.

If his opponent was a cultivator who had reached the second layer of Nascent Soul and refined their techniques into Gangyun, Xuzhuang would certainly need to consider it carefully. But the Moyun Sect’s Venerable was only at the Nascent Soul First Layer, and he wasn’t some high-ranking disciple from a major orthodox sect. Xuzhuang reckoned he was still within his capabilities to handle.

So, upon hearing the words of Zhang and Zeng, Xuzhuang simply shook his head and replied, "My mind is made up. You two martial nephews may go and carry it out."

Daoist Zhang, still worried, said, "Martial Uncle, although your Divine Techniques are profound, you have not yet reached the Nascent Soul realm, after all. Why not reconsider?"

Xuzhuang said coolly, "Don’t worry, Martial Nephew. Their kind are merely Nascent Souls from a heterodox sect. They lack superior methods and have shallow foundations. They are nothing to fear."

As soon as these words were spoken, the starkly different personalities of everyone present became apparent. Zeng Quanfeng’s spirits lifted, and he said excitedly, "Since Martial Uncle has made up his mind, you must have your reasons! This humble nephew will eagerly await Martial Uncle’s grand display of power!"

Daoist Zhang was still worried, but he could only cup his hands and say, "Yes. I will obey Martial Uncle’s command."

Song Yuming, standing to the side, didn’t know whether to be shocked or impressed. He thought to himself, ’This man is the very definition of arrogance.’

Beyond his shock, he felt a sliver of hope. If Xuzhuang truly possessed the ability to suppress a Nascent Soul Venerable with a Golden Core cultivation, then his Divine Techniques would surely be limitless once he reached the Nascent Soul realm. With the support of the Dragon Image Sect, perhaps even the Divine Flow Sect wouldn’t be able to do anything to the True Form Temple. Joining the True Form Temple, it seemed, was not a dead end after all.

Seeing that everyone was lost in their own thoughts, Xuzhuang said no more. He instructed Zhang and Zeng to settle the matter as quickly as possible and then arrange for Song Yuming to sign the Magic Contract, after which he rose and departed.

Since Xuzhuang had already made his decision, there wasn’t much for Daoist Zhang and Zeng Quanfeng to debate. They conferred for less than an hour, decided on a plan, and had a Daoist Child fetch paper and ink. Daoist Zhang then penned two letters.

As he finished writing, Daoist Zhang—whether with a sigh of relief or just a sigh—handed the letters to Zeng Quanfeng and said solemnly, "This is a matter of great importance. It would be best if you delivered them personally, Junior Brother."

Zeng Quanfeng took the letters and bowed. "Rest assured, Senior Brother," he said in a grave tone. "I will not fail this task." With a flick of his robes, he left the hall and flew off in a streak of light.

「Canglan Province, Moyun Sect.」

The sun had just risen, and the Sect Leader of Moyun Sect was already seated upright in the main hall. His eyes were slightly closed, and his square face appeared expressionless, but inwardly, he was somewhat worried.

Ever since the Divine Flow Sect had sent a letter forcing the Moyun Sect to dispatch men to do their bidding, a faint sense of regret and anxiety had been growing within him. Now, a full day and night had passed since Jiang Shicheng, Taishi Zhe, and Quan Youfeng had left, and there had been no news. He couldn’t help but worry.

Just as he was considering whether to send someone to investigate, the sound of urgent footsteps came from outside the hall. He couldn’t help but open his eyes. He saw his personal disciple rushing into the main hall in a panic, holding a letter in his hands. The disciple’s voice trembled as he said, "Master, a Daoist Child delivered this letter. He said it came from outside the mountain and is for the Sect Leader to open personally."

Fangmian Taoist’s brow furrowed. "Who sent this? What does it say?"

The disciple swallowed and replied, "The letter was delivered by Zeng Quanfeng of the True Form Temple. It says... it says that our Martial Uncle Taishi and Martial Uncle Quan failed in their attack on the True Form Temple’s spirit beast and were captured. They want our Moyun Sect to pay a ransom for the two martial uncles."

"What? Ransom?" Fangmian Taoist’s eyebrows shot up. "Give me the letter," he snapped.

The disciple didn’t dare to delay and quickly presented the letter. Fangmian Taoist opened it and scanned the contents. "Ten Spirit Veins, sixteen portions of the outer three medicines, one hundred Magical Artifacts, a thousand bushels of True Sand, three thousand sticks of Profound Incense..." The more he read, the angrier he became, until his anger turned to laughter. He swept his Duster aside and said hatefully, "Where does the True Form Temple get such nerve! To make such outlandish demands of my Moyun Sect! Aren’t they afraid of becoming a laughingstock!"

The disciple trembled, not daring to speak. After venting his anger, Fangmian Taoist didn’t make things difficult for him. He asked coldly, "Is that Zeng Quanfeng still at the foot of the mountain?"

The disciple replied, "He was there before I came to report."

Fangmian Taoist sneered. "Good! Take this letter, go down the mountain yourself, and give it back to him. Tell him if he knows what’s good for him, he’ll immediately return Junior Brother Taishi and Junior Brother Quan. If they are harmed in the slightest, I’ll make the True Form Temple pay a hundredfold!"

The disciple quickly replied, "Yes!" and hurried away.

Fangmian Taoist slumped heavily against the back of his chair, his brow still furrowed. Suddenly, he slammed a hand on the table. "Junior Brother Jiang, you can rest assured... My Moyun Sect will not let your death be in vain."

The three of them—Jiang Shicheng, Taishi Zhe, and Quan Youfeng—had set out together. Taishi Zhe and Quan Youfeng were captured by the True Form Temple. Since the letter from the True Form Temple made no mention of Jiang Shicheng, it wasn’t hard for Fangmian Taoist to guess that he had likely met with a grim fate.

He hadn’t been mourning for long when the disciple’s footsteps were heard again as he returned, holding another letter. Fangmian Taoist’s expression darkened further. ’So the True Form Temple does have a follow-up move,’ he thought. But then he sneered inwardly, ’What can the True Form Temple possibly do? This is nothing more than making an outrageous demand first, only to seek a compromise later.’

So he waited for the disciple to report, feigning composure. Unexpectedly, the disciple opened and closed his mouth, unable to utter a single word. Annoyed, Fangmian Taoist snapped, "Why are you fidgeting like that? If you have something to report, spit it out."

The disciple dropped to his knees, holding the letter above his head. He stammered, "This disciple doesn’t dare to read it. Please, Master, read it yourself."

Fangmian Taoist impatiently snatched the letter and flicked it open. He saw a few lines of large, bold characters: "...Therefore, Daoist Master Miaomiao of our True Form Temple invites your sect’s Venerable Qiu Song to the border of the two provinces for a decisive battle... Mortals have two eyes, but Divine Techniques have none. We ask that your sect’s Venerable Qiu Song prepare himself accordingly."

Fangmian Taoist’s lips trembled. "Insolent. Utterly insolent..."