Chapter Ninety: Change

The discussion did not last long.

The old man surnamed Fan had already worked out how to proceed, so after a brief round of instructions, everything was nearly settled.

They could never have guessed that, in a cave they had chosen at random, a person on the other side of the wall had caught every word.

In less than a quarter of an hour, they had finished their deliberations and departed.

Qingyuan sat quietly for a moment. With his mind clear and tranquil, he rose to his feet.

He had obtained the crimson divine thunder, which had been transformed into a thunder art, and his strength had increased greatly.

Even if he still came into possession of other divine thunders of the same kind, now that he already possessed thunder arts, adding another similar divine power would bring only limited benefit.

As for thunder lineage inheritances and thunder techniques, these were not things that could be mastered in a short time; they required long years of cultivation. Qingyuan, however, bore the Immaculate Contemplation of the Sixth Month and also possessed the Yellow Court Immortal Scripture. Having studied the Dao from childhood at the Purple Firmament Palace, he still surpassed the inheritances gained from the divine thunder by a full measure.

“Originally, I meant to follow the river all the way to its end. From there, the treasure would not be far off. That route is not the shortest, but it is the safest.”

“And now that Lotus-Flower Pavilion’s Lu Yushuang... if she no longer cares, then so be it. But if she still means to pursue me, she will follow the river to track my trail. In that case, this road will not do either.”

Qingyuan took out the terrain map and unfolded it, casting a quick glance over it.

After a brief moment of thought, he decided upon his next route.

“Straight ahead?”

Though this route was the shortest, it crossed many different stretches of terrain, and in the present situation he would surely encounter many cultivators along the way.

...

The wind stirred the grass, and the treetops swayed.

The mountains were full of fierce birds and beasts.

Because of the arrangements once laid down by the ancient Heavenly Venerable of Vast Origin and Old Industry, this place had become richly endowed with spiritual energy. Over many years, mountain sprites and wild fiends had gradually appeared, and perhaps even monsters had taken shape.

Before the descent of the Primordial Divine Thunder, Mount Fuzhong had already been a place rarely visited by human beings. Aside from the few cultivators who came in search of rare treasures of heaven and earth, no outsiders ever set foot here.

Qingyuan carried the Ancient Immortal Bag on his back and held the iron staff in his hand without letting it go.

He traveled onward. On the surface all seemed calm and peaceful, but the stillness was eerie.

“Strange...”

As that thought arose, a sudden chill wind swept toward him.

Before Qingyuan had time to look up, he swung the iron staff upward.

With a sharp crack, and accompanied by a mournful cry, the wind was hurled skyward.

Only then did Qingyuan look up.

It was an eagle.

The eagle was extraordinarily majestic, its eyes bright as lightning, its wings spanning nearly two zhang, and its bearing fiercely savage. Its claws were like blades, though one had been broken, precisely by the blow Qingyuan had landed.

It circled once in the sky, seeming somewhat hesitant, yet its nature was vengeful, and it was unwilling to leave so easily. After circling, it ultimately descended again, swift beyond measure, almost becoming a streak of fierce wind.

Qingyuan’s expression did not change, but he suddenly let out a laugh. True energy surged through his arm and into the iron staff.

Thunder-patterns lit up upon the staff, the glow a dark crimson that quickly deepened into a red radiance.

Boom!

The staff met the eagle’s talons head-on.

A burst of dark red lightning flashed from the point where claw and staff collided, and in an instant it engulfed the eagle’s entire body.

With a pitiful cry, the eagle crashed to the ground, its feathers and plumage giving off wisps of white smoke.

Qingyuan drew back the iron staff, a trace of amusement in his eyes.

This strike, like the one before it, had been equal in force, and the true energy he had employed was roughly the same.

But the first blow had merely broken the eagle’s talons and driven it off in alarm. This one, carrying the power of thunder, was enough to take its life.

From now on, whether it was Xu Xiao or that young man of the Sun family, if they fought him at close quarters in martial skill, the thunder attached to the iron staff would be enough to ensure an easy victory.

At that moment, his expression suddenly changed slightly.

The ground began to tremble with a low hum.

Trees quivered, and leaves rustled softly.

Ahead, in the forests of the mountains, disturbance rose and fell in waves.

Qingyuan leaped into a tree and, infusing his eyes with true energy, climbed high to look into the distance.

There he saw countless beasts fleeing toward this direction, while overhead many birds spread their wings and took to the sky.

Among the beasts were wild boars and hares, deer and sheep on the run, as well as wolves, leopards, and tigers and other fierce creatures. Yet these savage beasts did not hunt the boars or deer as prey; instead they were all fleeing in panic, as though running for their lives.

The same was true in the sky. There were eagles and hawks, fierce birds of prey, as well as sparrows, blue birds, and others besides.

Qingyuan’s heart tightened. Birds and beasts were even more sensitive than human beings; whenever such a scene occurred, something ahead must be threatening the lives of those creatures, and so they were all fleeing in desperation.

Such situations had many causes: natural disasters, earthly calamities, swarms of insects, ant armies, and so on.

“What is going on?”

As he was thinking this, a vague figure appeared on a mountain peak ahead.

That figure stood far off in the distance, its outline as tiny as dust.

Only a cultivator like Qingyuan, by circulating true energy, could make it out faintly.

He was still puzzled when he saw a beam of light burst forth from that figure, shooting straight up into the heavens, dozens of zhang high, almost piercing through the clouds.

Farther away, though he could not make out another figure, there was likewise a formidable aura matching it in strength, standing in opposition.

“Two exalted experts are fighting?”

At once, the matter became clear to Qingyuan.

Boom!

At the mountaintop where that figure stood, the upper section of the peak suddenly split apart, rocks flying in all directions.

And the direction of the battle was faintly pressing closer toward this side.

In only a moment more, it would surely spill over here.

“So that is it...”

Qingyuan’s expression changed slightly. He leaped down from the tree, changed direction, and departed at speed.

...

The divine thunder was a heaven-sent opportunity. Whether thunder lineage inheritances, thunder techniques, thunder arts, or even the divine thunder that could transform dead matter into the embryonic form of a thunder treasure, all were chances that stirred the hearts of cultivators.

Though the Primordial Divine Thunder had split into many strands, their number was certainly not great.

After the methods of the Right Path Gate and Lotus-Flower Pavilion had been applied, most of the divine thunder had been collected, and the exalted experts of the Right Path Gate and Lotus-Flower Pavilion were precisely the people in Mount Fuzhong whom one dared not provoke.

What remained in the hands of the various cultivators was already countable, and conflict was inevitable.

Even exalted experts were no exception.

For to any exalted expert, divine thunder was likewise an exceedingly rare and coveted opportunity.

If not for the peculiar nature of Mount Fuzhong and the formations of the Right Path Gate, it is likely that even exalted experts of the sixth heaven, and perhaps even true sovereigns, would have come to seize it.

Qingyuan thought to himself, “It seems the amount of divine thunder is even smaller than I imagined.”

He sighed, and could only take a detour, choosing another path toward the place where the treasure lay.

After going some distance out of the way, he was just about to take out the map and determine a new route when, all at once, he heard a faint voice.

“Help...”

The owner of that voice had breath thin to the last degree.

Qingyuan turned his head and saw a tree overgrown with vines.

After a moment’s thought, he went forward and used his iron staff to part the vines.

Within the tree there was a hollow.

Inside the hollow, a man leaned against the wall.

He was drenched in blood and grievously wounded, on the verge of death.

Qingyuan fell silent.

For the man was far too badly injured. Unless he had miraculous elixirs, or a true sovereign extended his life, he was certain to die.