Chapter 26: Professionalism, Utmost Sincerity

The source of the gentle sound was actually a pitch-black giant carp, which in this deep-water region resembled a spirit within, completely ignoring the fierce undercurrents.

The White Flood Dragon opened its dragon eyes, both pupils filled with fury.

Go, hurry to the human realm and bring back my dragon pearl; if you can bring back the dragon pearl, I will grant you flood dragon essence blood to aid your transformation into a flood dragon's body!

The black carp's tail swayed, its inner calm voice responded gently:

Father, how can I possibly find the whereabouts of that dragon pearl?

Upon hearing this, the White Flood Dragon raised its dragon head high, yet a piece of icy frost-colored dragon scale fell from above onto the black carp's body.

I bestow upon you a life scale; as long as you approach within a certain range of the dragon pearl, you will surely sense its whereabouts, and should things go awry, this life scale can substitute for death once!

The dragon scale instantly landed on the black carp; only to see the black carp's whole body burst forth with a thick aura of spiritual energy, vanishing in an instant into the undercurrents.

……

At the foot of Phoenix Tail Mountain, Zhang Jian led a dozen or so escorting militiamen toward the prefecture city, while on another official road, Zhang Kui led troops to garrison the mountain stronghold, awaiting the arrival of the Zhang Clan's second reinforcement batch, attempting to transport the mountain's wealth out.

Phoenix Yang City is several days' journey from Phoenix Tail Mountain.

Behind Zhang Jian followed a bunch of burdens, which slowed the pace, but Zhang Jian was not in a hurry.

At this moment he devoted all his energy to the Wind Travel Technique, using the surplus Wind Travel Talismans in his hand, repeatedly sensing the wind's traces in the air; gradually the spiritual power beneath his feet seemed to pierce the wind in the void, his form turning into a wisp of clear wind, though sometimes wobbling, yet it let him perceive a rhythm.

Zhang Jian had long known that the essence of wind is the result of sunlight heating the air, causing local pressure changes and air movement; thus, as long as he diligently sensed the rhythm of pressure changes in the air, repeatedly simulated and found a pattern, he could certainly quicken his comprehension of the Wind Travel Technique.

To Zhang Jian, the cultivation system was likewise a field of study, though this field is more profound and obscure than the path of the imperial examinations or the internal refinement of martial artists.

But as long as he is good at thinking, he can certainly turn those ethereal theories into concrete data, thereby swiftly increasing his cultivation speed of techniques.

Zhang Jian called this professionalization.

And similar to the few practitioners he had encountered before, in Zhang Jian's view they were not very professional.

Of course, one could also say this is a heart of utmost sincerity, a heart of the supreme Dao, merely different wording.

At this moment Zhang Jian's eyes flickered as he grasped the principle of thermal expansion and contraction; furthermore, the Wind Travel Technique could suitably lessen the effect of gravity on his body. After several attempts, his form gradually began to leave the horse's back, and he could steadily hover at a height of four to five meters above the ground.

In an instant, several Wind Travel Talismans were affixed to his legs and feet; his form shot forth like an arrow released from a bow, his speed markedly greater than before.

It was simply impossible to precisely reach an exact position.

Success!

Among the trees, Zhang Jian patted off the leaves clinging to his body, his eyes brimming with a fierce smile.

When this spiritual power is used properly, its efficiency can sometimes increase manyfold, and the destructive power it can produce is entirely different.

At this moment a group of militiamen gazed upon this scene, even more astonished as if seeing a heavenly being.

The Zhang Clan had long held rumors that the Zhang Clan's Eldest Young Master was a 'Banished Immortal Descended to the Mortal Realm'; this scene before them only confirmed it beyond doubt.

Dozens of men were excited at this moment, and those who lay down their lives for such a Zhang Clan could also be considered subordinates of the 'Banished Immortal', sharing in the honor.

Zhang Jian paid no heed to a group of self-indulgent rookies; he continued to constantly adjust his understanding of the Wind Travel Technique.

Once the Wind Travel Technique and the Walking Thunder Technique each have cultivated to a certain level, he can then attempt the Wind-Thunder Conjoined, at which time the destructive power that can be formed will greatly increase.

At that moment, a hesitant voice woke Zhang Jian from his highly focused state.

'Eldest Young Master, it's already late; the brothers are somewhat tired—can we find a place to rest for the night, light a fire and cook?'

At that moment an old soldier, named Hu Shan, whom Zhang Jian remembered; because among the five hundred militiamen dispatched by the Zhang Clan, this old soldier was among the eldest, it was said that in his youth he had served in the dynasty's border army and was a veteran of a hundred battles, merely choosing to return to his ancestral land when his age advanced.

However, upon returning he found his household bereft of relatives; coincidentally the Zhang Clan was recruiting a guard detachment, which he joined, thus also making a living for himself.

Zhang Jian nodded, and immediately the group prepared to make do for the night in a dilapidated earthen shrine beside a mountain hollow.

This is a collapsed Mountain God Temple.

Utterly dilapidated, the golden statue of the Mountain God had been blown by wind and rain until it was indistinct.

The Mountain God's head had also fallen to the ground.

However, the place name was known to the militiamen accompanying Zhang Jian; this place is called Phoenix Nest Mountain.

That old soldier Hu Shan was extremely talkative; at this moment, while picking up firewood on one side and lighting some dry, withered grass to smoke out the mosquitoes, insects, snakes and ants in the temple on the other, he chuckled hehe: 'Eldest Young Master, I've heard the elders mention that Phoenix Nest Mountain once truly had phoenixes appear; often people would hear pleasant bird songs in Phoenix Nest Mountain, that sound was incredibly moving, and during that era scholars from all around would frequently come here to sightsee or sit in meditation.'

'The Phoenix Nest Mountain God Temple was certainly not like this back then; the incense was very flourishing, those huge beams could not be embraced by several people linking arms, and when I was young my mother would specially bring me here to offer incense.'

Hu Shan's dark face showed a hint of recollection, his expression somewhat dim.

By the fire, everyone kept far apart, the heat wave oppressive.

The people merely used the fire to drive away wild beasts, not really to ward off cold; on such a midsummer night, this pile of firewood was overly blazing.

At once a militiaman could not help but ask.

'Old Hu, how did this Mountain God Temple come to be in such a state?'

At this moment, looking ahead, the Mountain God's golden statue lay on the ground, the ground littered with rubble, truly utterly desolate.

Hu Shan casually set down the firewood in his hand, shook his head and said.

'I don't know either; I only heard that strange things happened here, many people died, afterwards everyone was frightened and dared not come, and my mother also forbade me from inquiring about this place, saying she feared inviting misfortune！！

The young soldier who heard this couldn't help but mutter: 'Where could there be so many… strange things!'

After the words fell, he couldn't help but glance again at Zhang Jian's position; just then a cold wind blew, he involuntarily tightened his clothes, feeling a bit apprehensive, seeing this many militiamen burst out laughing.

By the campfire, Zhang Jian's expression also held a hint of helpless laughter.

His gaze swept over the severed head of the Mountain God behind him; relying on his spiritual sense, he also detected no trace of spiritual energy in the broken golden body.

After eating their dry rations, everyone promptly fell asleep, leaving only a few veteran soldiers to keep watch.

Zhang Jian, however, substituted meditation for sleep; only at midnight did he suddenly open his eyes.

'Cry!'

He actually, in an instant, suddenly heard a crystal-clear phoenix call!