Chapter 59: Preparations Before the Battle (First Update)

Chapter 59: Preparations Before Battle (First Update)

The thunderous roar echoed like a mighty earth dragon turning over, startling everyone present.

Disciples from every family and sect gathered near the underground plaza. If not for a subtle glance from their own sect leaders, these young disciples would have let their blood rush to their heads, charged forth recklessly, and met their end amid laughter and cheers.

The leaders of each sect squatted together in the underground plaza, holding their clandestine meeting. One scheme after another was devised, each so brilliant that even Luo Feng could not help but praise their ingenuity. He marveled silently, realizing there were so many ways to play this game.

The wise words of the ancients echoed in his mind: “To learn and to practice constantly—is this not a joy?” “If you renew yourself each day, continue to renew, and keep renewing.” “Among three people, there is always something to learn.” Confucius truly deserved to be called a sage, having long ago recognized the importance of learning.

After rounds of discussion, although their cultivation had not increased, their minds had undoubtedly been elevated. Many gaps in their future dealings were now patched. No matter how you looked at it, the older generation truly had their ways. It was no wonder that despite years of development, extremist factions never became mainstream—the hearts of the righteous were far more cunning than those of the wicked.

To uphold justice, the righteous must think more deeply and consider more carefully than the evil. Just as in the imperial court, corrupt officials may be cunning, but upright ones must be even more so—otherwise, how could they contend with the wicked?

To this, the sect leaders and family heads expressed their agreement. Their cunning could never match those who simply “cheat.” Especially Luo Feng, who, despite thriving in the world of immortal heroes, came to this small urban pond of supernatural martial arts and played as an invincible “cheater.”

At best, these leaders had tactical tricks built up over years, but Luo Feng operated at the strategic level—he overlooked everything from above, his entire being was… running with every possible cheat: map hack, foresight, live monitoring… He could even strike a fatal blow from eight hundred miles away!

His maneuvering was truly dazzling. As the saying goes, “Each generation has its talents, each leads the way for a hundred years.” Luo Feng’s skills surpassed those who came before him. The righteous path would flourish in the future, becoming harmonious and prosperous.

After a long time, the sect leaders, family heads, and masters slowly emerged from the underground plaza. The waiting disciples hurried forward to inquire about the situation.

Zhang Zhiwei of Mount Longhu, quick-eyed, saw the Celestial Master coming out last. He hurried to greet him, bowing respectfully, “Master, what happened here?” He gestured to the large pit behind.

“Routine operation, nothing to be surprised about,” replied Zhang Celestial Master, then looked up at the sky and sighed, “Today, we know there is a true immortal in Luo Feng!”

“A true immortal?” Zhang Zhiwei was shocked; he never expected his teacher to give such a high appraisal. After a moment’s hesitation, he whispered, “Master, have you ever sparred with Senior Luo?”

Mount Longhu’s Celestial Master paused, then chuckled, “No, but I reckon it would be fifty-fifty.”

Zhang Zhiwei breathed a sigh of relief—fifty-fifty! It seemed “true immortal” was just a metaphor, much like subjects congratulating the emperor on reaching ten thousand years, though few emperors ever lived that long.

But in the next moment, the Celestial Master spoke in a low tone, “How to put it? He fears he might kill me with one punch, I fear being killed with one punch.”

“Learn more from Master Luo Feng,” he advised, before drifting away, leaving Zhang Zhiwei standing bewildered in the wind.

At Wudang, Shaolin, Tianyun Sect, White Cloud Temple, Northeastern Immortal Families, and many other sects, their leaders faced similar situations.

The next day, Luo Feng walked outside, noting that disciples from every sect treated him with even more reverence than their own leaders.

Time passed slowly.

The foreign practitioners from the East hurried to set up various facilities in the city. They brimmed with confidence, believing their victory was assured—how could they possibly lose, with a flying dragon on their side?

Luo Feng’s divine sense swept across the city, monitoring every location, every event, every scene. The arrangements made by the foreign practitioners were somewhat crude, but not without merit. For example, the concealed channels they opened were ingeniously designed; on the surface, they cleared away filth and sewage, but in reality, they gathered energy and enabled rapid transport.

Luo Feng nodded quietly in approval, giving a silent commendation. These methods, disguised as everyday tools yet serving a larger plan, were quite clever—he found them intriguing and learned from them.

He then laid a few hidden traps near the drainage channels. The highest art of freeloading is to learn and apply it instantly, right in front of others.

In the following days, Luo Feng monitored Ping’an County’s situation while gathering the foreign practitioners from various sects. He analyzed the arrangements of the Eastern foreigners step by step, teaching and dismantling their tricks.

The underground plaza Luo Feng created quickly became a practical training ground.

In the third class of the morning, Luo Feng gave tactical guidance to Shaolin practitioners.

He looked at the group of gleaming bald students under the sunlight and shouted, “Stand up, all of you, stand up! Look at your performance in stealth—overall, you scored poorly. Your total score has dropped to fourth place. You are the worst batch of practitioners I have ever taught.”

“Look at the Tang Sect practitioners—their stealth is superb, and they even managed to set some poison along the way.”

“Now look at you—a bunch of bald heads! Don’t you realize you’re exposed? Don’t you understand how much glare you give off? From today, everyone paint yourselves black…”

In the fourth class of the afternoon, Luo Feng provided rescue guidance to the Shangqing Sect practitioners.

He shouted, “Stand up, all of you, stand up! Look at your rescue scores—you are the worst batch of practitioners I have ever taught.”

“Look at the Shaolin practitioners—they’re practically professional healers. Now look at you, at least you’re Taoists, and Taoist medicine is part of your tradition!”

“Honestly, you look more like backup sword intents for Chunyang Sect.”

At night, the final class.

In the pitch-black evening, Luo Feng gave retreat guidance to the Wudang practitioners.

He shouted, “Twist yourselves, all of you, get up! You are simply the worst batch of practitioners I have ever taught!”

“Do you understand serpentine movement? Serpentine movement!”

“And for your escape routes—don’t just rush forward, that makes you a target. You must constantly change direction…”

“Wudang’s lightness skill—left foot on right foot…”

“And thirdly, you—what are you looking at so late at night? Know to watch in all directions, listen to all sides.”

What must come will always come; no matter how slowly time passes, it never stops.

The Eastern practitioners had nearly completed their preparations and began deploying their forces, spreading rumors of a massacre throughout the city.

According to their investigations, Luo Feng mainly targeted Eastern practitioners and would not interfere in the battle itself. When he acted in anger, it was always in retaliation for the army slaughtering ordinary citizens.

Ping’an County, headquarters of the Eastern practitioners.

The leader, Meichuan Daizi, spoke in a low voice, “That demon king has truly been lured here.”

A masked practitioner nodded, “Lord Meichuan Daizi, we have indeed found his tracks. He’s five miles east of the city.”

“Are you sure he’s alone?”

Meichuan Daizi smiled with satisfaction, “Good! Good! Good!”

“The schedule has changed. Pass down the order—tomorrow at four o’clock, proceed according to the third plan!”

“At that time, I will avenge my poor child, Meichuan Kuzi!”

Five miles east of the city, Luo Feng deliberately revealed his presence, pretending to drink tea but not touching a drop. He nodded quietly—schedule changed, there’s a backup plan.

This Meichuan Daizi truly had some cunning and should not be underestimated. It seemed his side would have to implement the eleventh contingency plan for unforeseen circumstances.

(End of this chapter)