Chapter 69: Reactions from All Sides

Xiao Yu was not the least surprised by Sun Jinbiao’s catastrophic defeat.

Sun Jinbiao’s personal military and martial cultivation were both inferior to the Marquis of Radiant Sun—this was an obvious fact.

The five hundred righteous civilians from the seventy-two fortresses were vastly inferior to the Fire Crow Army—this too was a fact, though Sun Jinbiao himself refused to accept it.

The Marquis of Radiant Sun returned from the Giant Elephant Kingdom to Feixian Ferry with over two thousand cavalry.

Though they were indeed a fusion of multiple vassal states’ armies, they were by no means “miscellaneous troops”—they were all the elite of their respective nations.

Later, Xiang Huchen brought the Iron Cavalry Regiment and the Xisha Garrison to join them; they too were all Shu’s finest troops.

The temporary Fire Crow Army of over three thousand men possessed unmatched individual combat quality, the best in the West.

Though the Fire Crow Army now numbered only three hundred, those who remained were the elite among elites, their strength and conviction reaching the highest possible level.

Those who were unqualified, who weren’t top-tier, had long been eliminated by earlier battles.

The one in ten who remained had been tempered by war and fully integrated into the three-thousand-strong Fire Crow formation.

Five hundred righteous civilians were merely the finest of a single region—how could they compare to the very essence of the West?

Yet Sun Jinbiao’s utter defeat still startled Xiao Yu.

She was startled by the true power of the three-thousand-strong Fire Crow formation.

It wasn’t that Sun Jinbiao was weak.

Didn’t Dou Yilin, Song Zhong, and other immortal cultivators watch him set up his formation with eager anticipation?

They hoped the “Military Immortal” could rest and wait, and deliver a crushing blow to the battered Fire Crow Army.

Perhaps they could sneak in for a surprise attack and claim a great prize?

Without such expectations, without the slightest confidence in Sun Jinbiao, they would have fled long ago.

Now, the brutal result arrived—they froze for an instant, silent, then turned and fled, scattering in all directions.

“Cai Fengnian, hold the formation. I’ll deal with them.”

Dou Yilin and the others fled cleanly, leaving no words of pretense; the Marquis of Radiant Sun likewise wasted no time.

He immediately dissolved the dazzling “Three-Legged Golden Crow Formation,” seized his halberd, mounted his crimson smoke steed, and vanished in mere breaths, swift as lightning.

Though the Marquis of Radiant Sun had departed, the three-thousand-strong Fire Crow Formation did not disband.

The commander was now replaced by Marshal Cai, and the formation shifted from a V-shape to a square.

All riders sat solemnly on their horses, blades and spears still raised, maintaining combat readiness.

On the hill twenty li south of Feixian Ferry, Qingsong Daoist Child exhaled a turbid breath and smirked: “Good, good! Though the process was circuitous and full of unexpected twists, the outcome is still satisfactory.”

“Without the Protector’s intervention or mine, the Marquis of Radiant Sun himself shattered the ‘Feixian Shooting the Sun’ scheme.”

He was not alone—beside him stood a refined scholar in pale blue deep robe, wearing a high mountain crown.

Though dressed as a scholar and clearly not “Qin Juhan,” standing merely eight chi tall, Qingsong Daoist Child respectfully addressed him as “Protector.”

His waist bore a sword that looked light and weightless—the “Lulu Sword.”

“The process was indeed unexpected—the ‘Hunt Flag Immortal’ Kong Zan, meant to be the Western Eight Immortals’ greatest trump card, inexplicably died before the battle even began. But the outcome...” The Protector sighed and shook his head. “I had hoped they’d push the Marquis of Radiant Sun to his absolute limit—ideally, force us both to reveal ourselves.”

Qingsong Daoist Child paused, then understood the Protector’s meaning.

The Western Eight Immortals were small fish; if we were forced out, it would mean a big fish had been hooked.

“Alas, if things could be resolved so easily, we wouldn’t still be waiting.” Qingsong sighed.

He never expected to catch a big fish.

The hundred-thousand-strong alliance of thirty-six nations had been swept away; the Western states that formed it had been destroyed or forced back into submission. The Marquis of Radiant Sun had even slaughtered the entire Ji family in Jinyang... If the “big fish” intended to move, it would have acted long ago.

At that time, the “big fish” had still endured—how could it possibly endure this mere ambush at Feixian Ferry?

“Protector, would you care to go take a look? Kong Zan’s death was mysterious—I’m genuinely curious.” Qingsong smiled.

The Protector shook his head. “No. Technically, I’m still patrolling the eastern banks of Liusha River. If I show my face now, later appearing as ‘Imperial Envoy’ to meet the Western kings would be shameless.”

Qingsong nodded slightly. “Then I, too, cannot appear directly. Wait until the Marquis of Radiant Sun—ah!”

Both suddenly grew solemn, turning to gaze northwest.

A hundred li away, they faintly saw the golden glow of the golden crow blazing like the sun.

“We really did hook a big fish,” Qingsong exclaimed.

The Protector murmured: “That fish is bigger than the Western Eight Immortals, but not fat—merely half-step Earth Immortal. Not even a Celestial Immortal. What kind of big fish is that... They’re too cautious.”

“Earth Immortal?”

Qingsong Daoist Child’s expression changed; he squinted toward the west and murmured: “Could it be Wanshou Mountain—”

“Don’t speak nonsense!” The Protector, who had remained calm even at the sight of a “big fish,” instantly paled at the words “Wanshou Mountain” and cut Qingsong off urgently: “Perhaps they want you to think that.”

“But an Earth Immortal—”

The Protector waved his hand coldly: “Of the Five Immortals—Celestial, Earth, Human, Ghost, and Divine—the Celestial Immortal path is the most difficult. Countless beings have turned to Earth Immortality as a fallback.

Do you assume every Earth Immortal you meet in Zhonghua is from Wuzhuang Temple?

Taiqing Laozu is the Dao Ancestor—do all Daoist transgressions in the world trace back to him?”

—But this is Liusha’s Western Frontier, not the Central Plains! Wanshou Mountain’s Wuzhuang Temple is the region’s largest “local dragon”—it bears the greatest suspicion!

Qingsong Daoist Child sighed inwardly, but nodded earnestly, saying: “I meant no such thing.”

“Just days ago, I carried a basket of Kunlun Golden Apricots to Wanshou Mountain’s blessed land to pay respects to Zhenyuan Zushi!”

The Protector was startled again. “You met Zhenyuan Zushi?”

“Then I’d have to replace the Kunlun Golden Apricots with heavenly palace Pantao ,” Qingsong Daoist Child chuckled bitterly. “I spent hours pleading outside the mountain gate, waiting in the pavilion for nearly half a day before I could even speak to Qingfeng, that little rogue Daoist.”

“Don’t underestimate Qingfeng—he’s merely a gatekeeper, but he’s also Zhenyuan Daxian’s direct disciple, one of the close ones. To have met him, Wanshou Mountain has already shown decent respect.” The Protector said.

—I’m a Zhengyang Palace Daoist child myself; do I need you to explain the significance of a “gatekeeper Daoist”?

Qingsong Daoist Child muttered inwardly, then asked aloud: “Should we go take a look? We absolutely cannot let the Marquis of Radiant Sun perish here.”

“The Marquis of Radiant Sun has already cultivated a trace of Solar True Fire—he won’t die so easily,” the Protector said calmly.

“Solar True Fire... he has a chance at Celestial Immortality!” Qingsong Daoist Child marveled.

The Protector dismissed it: “Gazing across the sea at distant mountains is still gazing.”

Qingsong Daoist Child fell silent.

These two figures from the upper realm had no interest in a half-step Earth Immortal’s battle.

Yet the Western “Immortals” hiding nearby to observe the battle were deeply shaken—and intensely intrigued—by the sudden outbreak of “Immortal combat.”

“Ah, the Southern Sea Nun—you’re here too!”

A streak of emerald sword-light, hurtling westward, suddenly halted and landed on brown rocks below, bowing to the nun gazing westward.

The nun had a beautiful face, appearing in her early thirties. Though clad in monastic robes, they were a soft cream-yellow, and her hair, waist-length, was unadorned by jade or gold—only a plain ribbon tied it behind her head.

“If it isn’t Daoist Xuanzhen! I offer my respects!”

The beautiful nun turned and returned the bow, smiling: “To meet you here surprises me—why did you say ‘of course’? Did some other Daoist tell you I’d come?”

Xuanzhen didn’t look like a Daoist at all.

He was tall, nine chi, with a gaunt face, his hair tied in a Daoist topknot, twin swords—male and female—on his back, and three long whiskers fluttering in the wind, exuding the aura of a mountain sword immortal.

Yet he wore a lavish brocade robe, embroidered with golden dragons and silver cloud patterns, looking more like a wealthy squire.

A Daoist who didn’t look like one, a nun who didn’t look like one—yet they suited each other well.

“Were many Western Daoists here today? I met few. I said ‘of course’ because I know your connection to the Dou family.

In fact, when the Marquis of Radiant Sun slew Jade-Faced Wenqu, I thought you’d intervene to save him.” Xuanzhen smiled.

The Southern Sea Nun smiled faintly: “Only eight Western human immortals swore blood oaths, but the Western states’ human immortals number far more than eight—over one hundred eighty.

All received invitations, yet all refused to join.

Though they declined the ‘Shooting the Sun’ plan at Feixian Ferry, they still watched the battle’s outcome from afar, just as I did.”

She paused, then added: “I do have some ties to the Dou family, but not enough to risk my life saving Dou Yilin.

In fact, I met Dou Yilin only once, ten years ago.

He had a daughter, ‘Dou Gengyan,’ who awakened the Sword Heart Enlightenment ability at birth.

But the Dou family isn’t ordinary—Dou Yilin holds the post of Right Chancellor of Lu State, immensely powerful, wealthy beyond measure, and himself a human immortal.

I once intended to guide his daughter to immortality, but he politely refused.

That is the full extent of my connection to the Dou family.”

“Dou Yilin regrets it—he’s been spreading rumors these past years, searching everywhere for you!” Xuanzhen chuckled.

The Southern Sea Nun said: “Ten years ago, his daughter was newborn, untouched by worldly wealth and glory—taking her into the mountains might have allowed her to slowly cultivate. Now... alas, this calamity may help her sever earthly ties and renew her immortal destiny.”

“So you still haven’t abandoned this connection,” Xuanzhen said.

“Only a connection to Dou Gengyan—not to Dou Yilin or the Dou family.”

The Southern Sea Nun gazed westward, her pupils contracting, her serene face betraying fear: “The Marquis of Radiant Sun won. ‘Thousand Shadows Immortal’ didn’t just lose—he was slain outright...

Even if I intervened to save Dou Yilin, I’d merely be delivering my own head as a trophy.”

Xuanzhen stared westward in shock, murmuring: “Thousand Shadows Immortal’s realm is lower than ours, yet his seniority is two or three generations higher—he’s cultivated nearly a thousand years, excels in stealth and assassination, and wields the great technique ‘Hundred Forms, Thousand Shadows.’ How did he get no chance to flee?”

The Southern Sea Nun sighed: “The Marquis of Radiant Sun has likely perfected Solar True Fire! Alas—he’s only twenty-one!

No wonder the upper realm of Zhonghua is so blessed with land and talent—how many geniuses it produces!”

Xuanzhen exhaled slowly, smiling bitterly: “Thankfully, the Great Qin’s ambitions stop at the eastern bank of Tongtian River—our Tongtian Sword Sect has no entanglement with the upper realm.”

The Southern Sea Nun dismissed it: “You should be grateful the Emperor Zheng died in time—otherwise, Tongtian River might not have been the limit of Great Qin’s vision.”

“What? Emperor Zheng is dead?!” Xuanzhen was more shocked than seeing Thousand Shadows Immortal slain.

He had just arrived from Tongtian River, traveling far—he arrived after Dou Yilin’s speech ended and hadn’t heard the explosive news: “The Emperor is dead.”

In fact, even if he’d arrived earlier, most human immortals dared not approach too closely.

They dared only gaze from a hundred li away, fearing collateral damage, and couldn’t hear a single sound from Feixian Ferry.

The Nun of the South Sea said with a complex expression: “I heard it from Dou Yilin—the news should be true, as the Marquis of Fiery Sun did not refute it on the spot.”

Her realm, along with that of Xuanzhenzi, surpassed that of a Human Immortal, so they could hear it.

“How could Emperor Zheng die? He was the Ancestral Dragon, protected by the Ancestral Dragon’s aura, impervious to all arts, with an immensely long lifespan—he’s only just over two hundred years old... Moreover, those skilled in aura-reading have foretold that Emperor Zheng will become another Ten-Thousand-Year Emperor.”

“Ten thousand years and two hundred—there’s a vast difference.”

Xuanzhenzi’s heart stirred, and he whispered: “Could it be a feigned death?”

“The Emperor is too far removed from us; whether he’s truly dead or feigning death matters little. You should ask instead why Dou Yilin and the others learned of the news from Xianyang so quickly,” the Nun of the South Sea said softly.

Xuanzhenzi said nothing, only sighed: “Great chaos is coming.”

“What does the turmoil of mortals have to do with us mountain dwellers?” the Nun laughed.

Xuanzhenzi shook his head: “If it were merely the Eight Kingdoms falling into chaos, it wouldn’t be much. But when the Central Realm of the Upper Kingdom stirs, it often signals a Great Calamity of Heaven and Earth—no hiding in mountains or riverbeds can spare you from the slaughter.”

The Nun smiled: “Don’t we already lack disciples? Why must we descend into the mortal world ourselves?”

Xuanzhenzi paused—was she suggesting he use his disciples to bear the slaughter on his behalf?

Too idealistic. Even we can’t bear it ourselves—what use are disciples?

Do you really think you’re an ancient Golden Immortal?

“I won’t hide it from you, Nun: right now, I only want to find any excuse to expel my few wayward disciples from the sect.”

“From now on, bridge is bridge, road is road—I have nothing to do with them,” Xuanzhenzi said seriously.

Forget using disciples to bear calamity—so long as they don’t bring disaster upon him, he’d be grateful enough to burn incense and thank the Three Pure Ones.