NOVEL NEXT Chapter 43: Emperor Yang
At the very peak of the Yang royal castle, a balcony resided. It was known as the Emperor's Resting Place—a place where one could experience leisure and escape the troubles and worries of ruling a dying empire.
And right at this moment, two men sitting opposite one another could be seen playing a game of Go…
"That interesting person just left," one of them spoke, not letting his words interrupt his hand as he set his piece.
"I know," the man opposite him replied.
Silence reigned between the two for a few seconds as they continued playing quietly, until the first man couldn't take it anymore. "Come on, tell me the truth—why did the great Emperor Yang decide to help a fraud? You know well that he is no martial artist, let alone coming from the same sect as you. So why?"
Emperor Yang stayed silent for a while. It was only after he made his move, setting his piece, that he spoke. "You said it yourself—he is no martial artist, neither is he an essence weaver. As a matter of fact, I couldn't sense his Will, hinting that he has yet to awaken that either…
But you saw what he could do. You and I witnessed how he trashed that brat's Godslaying Squad. He wielded powers belonging to us cultivators without being one himself…
That was why I helped him. My gut tells me we might have just witnessed a legend in the making—an unparalleled genius who might elevate the status of the mortal lands. And letting such a figure owe me a favour would be beneficial for the future."
Emperor Yang explained all this calmly. One could see that he was a wise and far seeing man.
The man before him couldn't help but chuckle. "You say so much, but how sure are you that he is not a member of those guys?
They even had the audacity to rein in your son. They have made their stance clear and have started to meddle in our mortal nations, so what's to say he's not from them?
If he was from them, then his strangeness is understandable."
Emperor Yang remained silent, his eyes clear and without doubt. "He is not from them. No matter how strange those guys are, and how weird the studies they practice are, they cannot possibly make a mortal human be that powerful.
All their creations that have even a fraction of the power that boy showed have their humanity in question—and you know it.
That is why no one wants to associate with them, no matter how miraculous they seem. After all, who wants to stop being human?"
When he reached this point, the Emperor's eyes brightened as he saw an opportunity. He set his piece of white, and now his opponent was stuck—no matter what move they made, he would win.
"Aiya, I lost, dammit. It seems even though regressed, an ancient kingdom's ruler is still impressive," his opponent praised.
"Hahaha, you are impressive yourself, Warrior King Wu…" the Emperor replied humbly. Then his eyes flashed curiously as he continued:
"Now we have gotten this out of the way, let me ask you this—why did you leave your kingdom all the way from the western continent to come visit my poor, dying nation?"
…
Elsewhere, at the outskirts of the Yang Empire, within the barren lands, a heavily guarded caravan could be seen—its guards all dressed in similar seamless bronze armor. The only reason one would be able to tell that they all weren't the same person was because of the different builds and heights.
Merchant Wei had made preparations. In order not to make Spark look conspicuous, he had all the guards don similar armor.
As for Spark himself, he was in one of the carriers at the very forefront of the caravan, in his hands a stack of sketches detailing the features of all those he should be wary of…
Spark now understood why Cai'er was so certain he couldn't face them without the help of the armor. Previously, he had been feeling confident—because if martial artists were weaker than Qi cultivators, he felt the job wouldn't pose much of a challenge.
After all, he had defeated Foundation Building Realm practitioners previously.
But now, he was painfully aware of how naive that thought process was…
Recently, he had learned more about cultivators, and he was now aware that the only reason mortal cultivators couldn't defeat their immortal counterparts was because of two reasons:
One—because their practice was fairly new and didn't have as much foundation as that of the immortals.
Second—because immortal cultivators had all sorts of mystical powers, ones that didn't follow rhyme or reason. It was even more eerie than Will. But if it came to a battle of physical prowess or energy control, both martial artists and essence weavers surpassed them in this regard.
Both these factors put into play solidified their stance as the stronger bunch. And besides, back when he faced a Foundation Building Realm cultivator, though he had the upper hand, it had to be recalled that he still had the support of his nine stars to thank for such a feat.
But now, even after absorbing some energy from the gauntlet, he barely had enough to make half a star. And he dared not touch the energy of the armor—who knew what could happen if he did? He couldn't bear losing the physical enhancement and the internal circulation support of the armor.
Sigh… and now I have to face this guy, he pondered, looking at the portrait of Slade. He had jagged hair, a slim face, and a crooked nose. He looked ugly and fierce—befitting a bandit.
And what worried Spark the most right now was the fact that Slade was estimated to be a martial artist of the Bone Forging Realm. Which is equivalent to the Qi cultivators' Core Formation Realm… this would be a little bit troublesome.
Unfortunately, he wasn't able to ponder any further as a fierce voice resonated across the whole caravan, causing the moving carriages and carts to come to a sudden halt.
"THIS LAND IS OURS AND THIS PATH IS OURS! YOU PASS, YOU PAY UP!!!"
Spark's eyes flickered with caution. Speak of the devil.
His armor began glowing slightly as he tensed his muscles, ready to pounce the moment they opened the doors.