Chapter 445: What Gives! |
Months had passed since Jiang Chen last set foot on Beast Mountain. He wasn’t here to find a mate for Da Huang this time, but to locate Storm Crane 7. The majestic avian was more than just a beast; she had forged a life-and-death contract with Long Ao, binding their fates together.
Before long, Jiang Chen arrived at the borders of the Thousand Crane Forest. The ancient trees towered overhead, their massive canopies filtering the sunlight into golden, dappled rays. Cranes waded through the mist-shrouded shallows. Some boasted wingspans of nearly ten feet, their plumage like freshly drifted snow against the emerald foliage, while others were sleeker, crowned with vibrant vermilion crests.
“Halt.”
“Go no further.”
“Human cultivator, state your business in the Thousand Crane Forest.”
Before Jiang Chen could cross the boundary, two massive white cranes blocked his path. They spoke with fluid human articulation, their beaks and razor-sharp talons glinting with a dangerous, bluish-black metallic sheen.
Jiang Chen offered a polite nod. “My name is Jiang Chen, from Green Wood Peak. I am looking for Storm Crane 7.”
The crane on the left shook its long neck. “Denied. Storm Crane 7 is gravely injured.”
“We are acquainted,” Jiang Chen pressed smoothly, not breaking his courteous stance. “I’d appreciate it if you could announce my arrival.”
The remaining guard offered a gruff explanation. “Our hierarchy is dictated by cultivation. Storm Crane 7 possesses over a millennium of cultivation, residing in the deepest sanctum. We are mere sentries; we rarely see her. If she refuses your visit, do not take offense.”
“Understood,” Jiang Chen replied. “If she cannot see me, I will turn around and leave immediately. I won’t cause trouble for either of you.”
The guard blinked, tilting its head. “You are remarkably polite for a human cultivator. Are you in the market for a spiritual companion?”
Jiang Chen smiled faintly, a dry amusement in his eyes. “Not at the moment.”
The crane’s gaze visibly dimmed. “A pity.” For a spiritual beast, finding a worthy master was a lifelong pursuit; many remained trapped within the sect’s boundaries, forever waiting for a bond that never formed.
Moments later, the air rippled as the scout returned. It was not alone. Beside it flew a slightly smaller crane, crowned with a brilliant red crest. Despite its reduced stature, the ambient pressure radiating from its wings spoke of immense, ancient power.
The crested elder landed, its dark eyes sweeping over Jiang Chen with calculating intelligence. “You are Jiang Chen?” its voice rasped, rough with age.
“I am.”
“Step up,” the elder ordered, extending a wing. “Follow me.”
Jiang Chen stepped lightly onto the crane’s broad back, his balance flawless. The elder surged into the sky, carrying him over a sea of white feathers as they flew deeper into the heart of the forest.
Here, the density of the woods thinned out, making way for colossal ancient trees that pierced the clouds, easily hundreds of meters tall. Their massive trunks were pockmarked with hollows, resembling towering, organic honeycombs.
The elder deposited Jiang Chen onto a thick branch and pointed a primary feather toward a dark cavity. “She is inside.”
Jiang Chen cupped his hands in thanks. As he approached the hollow, the crisp forest air gave way to an acrid, suffocating stench. It smelled of scorched flesh and ozone.
Stepping into the cool interior, he found a sprawling nest woven from thick branches. Curled in the center was a pathetic, featherless lump. Raw, blistered skin mottled with necrotic burn scars covered her body. It was a horrific sight.
Jiang Chen felt a rare pang of genuine distress pierce his usual pragmatic shell. “Storm Crane 7?”
A bald head weakly lifted from the nest. Her beak parted, issuing a frail, exhausted female voice. “You came.”
“What happened to you?” Jiang Chen asked, kneeling beside the nest.
“When Mystic Heart City detonated,” she whispered, “I wrapped my body around Long Ao to shield him from the blast.”
Jiang Chen frowned, his eyes tracing the lethal burns. “You look like you’re barely holding together.”
“I will survive,” she wheezed a faint reassurance. “The Crane King has sworn to personally heal my meridians.”
“The Crane King?”
“He possesses a trace of the primordial Luan bird bloodline. His power is beyond our comprehension.”
Jiang Chen let out a slow breath. “Good.”
Storm Crane 7 blinked her clouded eyes. “You aren’t just here to check my pulse. You want to know what happened out there.”
“I do.”
She let her head rest on the twigs. “It was a massacre. Massive clusters of Thunder Crystals were buried deep within the bedrock beneath Mystic Heart City. But they weren’t ordinary explosives. They were packed with Li Fire Thunder. The sheer thermal force of that blast… even a Golden Core cultivator couldn’t withstand a direct hit.”
Jiang Chen’s mind raced. Anything bearing the moniker of ‘Thunder’ in the cultivation world was an instrument of absolute devastation. The explosion didn’t just break the city; it erased it from the map, allowing the foul waters to swallow the ruins. Thousands of lives were snuffed out in a microsecond.
Li Fire Thunder, Jiang Chen thought, his eyes narrowing. The Thunder Crystals I found previously contained Gui Water Thunder. Why were the ones under the city completely different? Are the remnants of the Yellow Springs Alliance still operating under our noses?
He had assumed the threat died with Wu Lao and Xiao Mei’er. He had severely miscalculated. Yet, the Alliance wouldn’t obliterate their own operatives. Unless the true architects had already slipped away before pulling the trigger.
A cold, cynical fury tightened Jiang Chen’s jaw. “What gives?” he muttered, his voice dropping to a dangerous register. “Senior Brother Qin vanishes into thin air. Senior Brother Long is reduced to a mangled mess in a block of ice. You look like a roasted chicken. Almost ten thousand people died, with barely a handful of survivors.” He scoffed. “Yet, some people managed to walk away without losing a single hair.”
Suppressing his anger, he asked about the remaining loose ends: the Azure Water Demon Ape and the Mirage Dragon’s corpse.
Storm Crane 7 informed him that the Ape had been captured alive by Zhao Lie of the Dragon Tiger Immortal Sect. As for the Mirage Dragon, she had no idea; the chaos was too absolute to track a corpse.
Having gathered what he needed, Jiang Chen stood up. “Rest. If you need anything, send a bird to Red Leaf Valley.”
“Thank you… for coming,” she murmured, already drifting back into a healing stupor.
…
The flight back from Beast Mountain offered a brief respite.
Soaring over the winding rivers, Jiang Chen spotted three figures fishing by the banks. Two were incredibly familiar.
Jin Fugui and Mo Yu were bickering loudly with an older man sitting between them.
“You two useless lumps!” the old man barked. “You used to pull up Dragon Carp with ease! Why can’t you even match my haul today?”
“Master, come on,” Jin Fugui whined. “At least I’m doing better than Old Mo!”
“Better? How are you better?”
“I caught one! He hasn’t had a single bite!”
Old Mo stammered, his face red. “I… the water temperature is off today…”
Jiang Chen hovered for a half-second. He looked at the screaming Master, looked at his two idiot friends, and felt his social battery immediately drain to zero.
Nope, he thought.
He pumped Qi into Shattered Moon Flowing Frost, accelerating to maximum speed and blurring right past them toward Red Leaf Valley.
As he neared his home, the grim tension of the day finally began to bleed out of him. The heavy snows were melting. Below, the dark, rich soil of his spirit farms was dotted with vibrant green shoots pushing toward the sunlight. To a farmer, there was no greater sanctuary than the sight of surviving crops.
But as the entrance to Red Leaf Valley came into view, Jiang Chen’s Divine Sense swept the perimeter and locked onto a solitary figure standing right before his gate.
His eyes hardened.
It was Ji Mingxuan.
