Chapter 41: Difficult to Handle

"What do you want that thing for? It's useless to us martial artists!"

The convoy moved through the deep mountains and forests. Inside the car, Su Luoxue listened to Jiang Chen, her beautiful eyes showing a hint of surprise as she softly inquired, "I've studied that thing as well, but it merely has a slight effect of promoting blood circulation and dispersing bruises in the human body. The effect is negligible, practically useless. Only some strange factions..."

"Heh, of course. Gentlemen, please return to your rooms. It's late—don't catch a cold."

Long Mobai learned the exact location of the Izanami clan from the priest; for safety, they migrated to a new place every year.

Mo Han glanced at Fu Yuchen's shirt and vest beneath his coat, and the faintly revealed muscles. He touched his nose, said nothing, and accepted the coat.

After what seemed to be a fairly mild battle in Shenghui, he had expected to gain some decent rewards on these three floors. Yet reality left him bitterly disappointed.

The Thunder Hammer just wielded by Zidian Wuji was not a divine weapon of the Zidian clan. Teng Lei also recognized the god who wielded the Thunder Hammer—a general of the Lightning Division in the Divine Court.

Because the Stinking Immortal was not widely known, his opponent had no idea what kind of attack was coming. Even with the warning of those who fell before, they were utterly clueless.

The Elder in sunglasses, eyes glowing golden, tossed the watering can to Elder Wuhuo, and swung his Iron Fist at the vines.

But he had not walked far when he saw a crowd gathered ahead, as if watching a spectacle.

Jiu Liu was furious. Qi Xiangzi's flying speed was far too slow—was he deliberately delaying the journey?

"Who told you I intend to choose a consort?" His heart trembled; he distinctly remembered rejecting the ministers' proposal at morning court. How could such rumors spread? In his panic, he reverted to his imperial pronoun.

As Nangong Changfeng rapidly closed in on Yun Han'ao, Yun Han'ao once again unleashed his full powers of the ice element, sending a shockwave outward. In the cave's midair, the fragments of ice and immortal fire, driven by Yun Han'ao's power, swiftly plummeted, pelting the charging Nangong Changfeng.

The old man watched the Xiongnu soldiers scramble for wine, then saw them fall one after another. He quickly took the keys from their bodies and unlocked the iron gate of the prisoner camp.

Zuo Chen, whose attention had never been there, was startled by the sudden words and failed to respond.

"Now, it's my turn..." Lu Qingyun smiled faintly, gathered the Heaven-breaking Spear, and, to the three men's utter shock, sent forth myriad rays of light, charging at the middle-aged man.

"Yes, tomorrow in court I will request it. Everything is arranged; you need not persuade me further," Ling Yun said resolutely.

He had not expected the grassland folk to have such deep attachment to their homeland. His previous recruitment plan was gravely mistaken; they would not easily leave with him. If he wanted them to go, he would need another method.

Zhong Xingyun sighed inwardly, lowering his head as the giant shadow of a raised arm came crashing down. At this moment, his heart was dead, all hope extinguished.

Since "Blood Inheritance" grew up, his martial arts had entered a new realm—he seemed to have abandoned a part of his emotions as well.

As soon as the words fell, that avatar instantly self-immolated, leaving only ashes in the barren, frozen wasteland.

An hour later, all one hundred and forty-three absent soldiers were caught and returned to camp, bound and kneeling on the ground. Most looked dispirited, their minds dazed, evidently having enjoyed themselves too much to notice the call to arms.

"I believe in you too." Zhi Yu lifted his gaze slightly. Thus, they understood who orchestrated everything—if it were not intentional, Xi Zuocheng and Xi Duoduo would not have appeared so coincidentally.