Chapter 82: Golden Light Upper Person

The speaker stood beside Jia Tianlong, a dwarf no more than three feet tall.

The dwarf was in his forties, thin and wiry, wearing a red robe edged with gold thread, gold rings on his fingers, a thick gold chain around his neck, and several golden bells tied at his waist; when he spoke, his mouth glinted with gold—clearly he had gold teeth—and his entire appearance screamed the look of a newly rich country landowner.

At this moment, he wore an expression of impatience, clearly furious at Jia Tianlong’s hesitation.

Such a grotesque, crudely dressed dwarf dared to show such disrespect toward Jia Tianlong, causing the loyal iron guards nearby to glare at him with fury.

The dwarf noticed their hostility, but let out a cold, mocking chuckle and ignored them entirely, instead speaking haughtily to Jia Tianlong:

“Jia Boss, you spent three thousand taels of gold to bring this Upper Person all the way from Golden Light Abbey—do you really intend to just stand here and watch all night? Name the person you want me to deal with now. Don’t tell me you’re asking me to take on the Seven Mysteries Sect’s Sect Master—such a weak opponent is well within your own capability; why waste so much gold on me?”

“The Seven Mysteries Sect’s Sect Master doesn’t warrant the Immortal Master’s intervention. The ones I’ve asked you to deal with are his three senior uncles. Though they’ve publicly declared themselves dead, they’ve actually been in seclusion in a secret chamber atop Sunset Peak, undergoing a critical breakthrough—now their cultivation likely has already reached the Soul Transformation realm, far beyond the reach of ordinary experts. They are the Seven Mysteries Sect’s greatest current reliance—and only you, Immortal Master, can handle them.” Jia Tianlong spoke with deep humility, showing not the slightest hint of disrespect.

He knew this red-robed dwarf was someone he’d accidentally met in a Daoist abbey near the border of the barbarian lands; the man called himself Golden Light Upper Person, claimed boundless magical power, and had personally demonstrated to him the Flying Sword Art and the Diamond Body Technique.

After witnessing them firsthand, he was utterly awed by the power of these two arts, realizing the man belonged to the legendary cultivation sects, and he immediately sought to form a close bond.

Upon learning the man had a particular obsession with gold, Jia Tianlong immediately showered him with vast sums of wealth and lavished him with flattery, finally winning his promise to lend a hand once.

Thus Jia Tianlong always treated this dwarf with the deference of a junior, never betraying the slightest trace of aversion to his arrogance—he knew very well that Golden Light Upper Person was no one his tiny Wild Wolf Gang could oppose.

Upon hearing this, Golden Light Upper Person burst into loud laughter; when the laughter subsided, he said with supreme arrogance: “Just a few ordinary mortals? Leave them to me! No matter how high their cultivation or how strong their martial skill, they’re no match for my Flying Sword Art—rest assured!”

“Then I’m deeply indebted to the Immortal Master. I’ll honor my promised payment without fail—and after success, I’m willing to add another two thousand taels of gold as a bonus.” Jia Tianlong beamed, raising the reward even higher—he knew this man wasn’t kind-hearted; gold was the only language that moved him.

Golden Light Upper Person’s dry, orange-peel-like face twitched into a faint smile; he nodded in satisfaction, clearly approving of Jia the Great Boss’s good sense.

With the assurance of this powerful cultivator, Jia Tianlong no longer hesitated—he immediately ordered all Wild Wolf Gang members to ascend to the summit of Sunset Peak, preparing to assault the Seven Mysteries Sect’s main hall—the Seven Mysteries Hall.

Because so many people surged up the mountain, Jia Tianlong and his iron guards had to struggle hard just to reach the front of the stone hall.

Jia Boss had never seen his enemy’s main hall before, yet he was stunned by its grandeur—he now felt his Wild Wolf Gang’s headquarters, by comparison, was nothing but a dog kennel, utterly pitiful.

On the dozens of mu of open ground atop Sunset Peak rose several stone halls built from massive blue stones: one large, six small.

Though darkness and the dim glow of torches obscured their full details, the sheer imposing, rugged, majestic aura of the dark, towering structures still stunned the Wild Wolf Gang and other minor sects who had just arrived; for a moment, no one dared attack, instead surrounding the stone halls completely, sealing them off entirely.

“After all, this is a sect with over two hundred years of heritage—their wealth is far beyond what my own gang, risen only a decade ago, can match. Truly extravagant!” Jia Tianlong thought to himself.

He had already decided: once the Seven Mysteries Sect was destroyed, he would immediately move his headquarters here—only such grand architecture could match his status as a regional overlord.

Jia Tianlong glanced at the dark entrance of the main hall across from him, then at his subordinates surrounding him, and slowly raised his right hand.

In an instant, Sunset Peak fell utterly silent; every eye fixed on his raised hand—they all knew that the moment it descended, the brutal battle to annihilate the Seven Mysteries Sect’s main hall would begin.

“Wait.”

At that moment, a cold voice suddenly echoed from the dark entrance of the main hall.

Then came a rhythmic “tap-tap” of footsteps, growing steadily clearer.

Finally, a middle-aged man in white robes appeared at the entrance; he wore a wooden hairpin in his hair, carried only a long sword in a white scabbard, his face deathly pale, yet his eyes blazing with piercing intensity—wherever his gaze fell, it stabbed like a blade into the soul, sending chills down the spine.

He stopped several zhang from the entrance, slowly scanning the crowd before him, his face showing not a trace of fear.

At last, his eyes settled on Jia Tianlong’s raised right hand, then moved from the hand to Jia Tianlong’s face.

“Jia Tianlong,” the middle-aged man called out the Great Boss’s name.

“Wang Juechu,” Jia Tianlong retorted without hesitation, naming his opponent.

“Funny—we’ve both been regional lords for years, yet this is our first face-to-face meeting, isn’t it, my Great Sect Master?” Jia Tianlong said with casual ease, a sneer curling his lips, then slowly lowered his raised hand.

Wang Juechu stared back at Jia Tianlong without expression, saying nothing—the atmosphere grew tense.

“Sect Master Wang, you came alone—do you intend to surrender?” Jia Tianlong asked mockingly, smiling.

“Indeed. I’ve come to discuss surrender with you,” replied Wang Juechu, the Seven Mysteries Sect’s master, his voice as cold as ice.

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