Messenger of Calamity

Chapter 129: Foundation Legacy

"To rob Spirit Jade, naturally, the targets are landowners, merchants, and bureaucrats whose families are thriving but lack the protection of Messengers. They’re like those shrimp dumplings just now—thin-skinned and stuffed full."

Shang Xinlei scooped a big mouthful of ice cream into her mouth. Yan Qing winced just watching her, his teeth aching: "That’s why Great Liang has developed an odd phenomenon—the farther from the capital, the less exploitation and oppression commoners suffer. Anyone without Messenger protection who dares to act recklessly is either decapitated by a passing Demon-Path Messenger or finds a prospective Messenger rising from the fields and slaughtering their entire family."

Yan Qing said, "So just hire a Messenger as a guard, then?"

Shang Xinlei laughed, "Even the weakest First-Stage Messenger, who owns only one Token and participates in the simplest First-Stage Secret Realm raids in the garrison, earns at least six hundred Spirit Jade a year. Meanwhile, those major landowners occupying hills and fields in remote villages might not even make that much annually. What could they possibly use to hire a Messenger with? At best, they can afford a few able-bodied men."

The wealth gap is that vast?

Yan Qing was a bit surprised, but upon further thought, it made perfect sense: this world simply wasn’t lacking in conventional resources.

The annual output of an ordinary village might not even compare to the daily yield of a single First-Stage Secret Realm. What else could local gentry sell besides to the surrounding poor? Towns near garrisons were resource-rich.

In terms of productivity, a Secret Realm Messenger could match the output of hundreds of farmers. Compared to Messengers, those landowners were the real poor.

"While there are indeed scum who target commoners, many Demon-Path practitioners focus only on corrupt elites. After all, there’s nothing to squeeze out of commoners. That’s why public opinion about them isn’t all bad—there are plenty who are called chivalrous men, heroes, or righteous thieves." Shang Xinlei pointed to herself. "When I used to scavenge as a Feather Snake in Chang’an, the residents there even gave me a righteous thief nickname."

"Sounds pretty decent," Yan Qing commented objectively. "Not good people, sure, but violent types like that operating outside the system can exert some deterrent force on court officials."

"As long as there aren’t too many of them," Shang Xinlei said. "Once Demon-Path numbers grow, it's another story. After they’ve looted all the easy targets, whether they like it or not, they’ll have to go after villages near the garrisons. For them, running out of Spirit Jade means death."

"But in garrison territories, which major household doesn’t have relatives who are Messengers? The garrisons don’t even need to take action—just offer a Warrior quota, and everyone will spontaneously hunt down Demon-Path trails. Many Messengers even volunteer for the capture missions. Demon-Path covets Spirit Jade, while Messengers covet Demon-Path Tokens."

"Faced with such suddenly intensified resistance, Demon-Path members either die, surrender, or grow stronger until they become Demon-Path overlords. But regardless of the outcome, they always go on a killing spree. No one can stay rational and compassionate in life-or-death struggle. Years ago, there was a Demon disaster in Taihu. At first, it was just a few dozen Demon-Path attackers around the garrison, but it escalated into hundreds slaughtering freely. Even the garrison commander was lured into a trap and assassinated. My father had to transfer Messengers from other garrisons to finally quell the chaos. The population around Taihu dropped by nearly eighty percent."

"Eighty percent?" Yan Qing found it hard to believe.

"That’s why they’re called Demon-Path," Shang Xinlei said grimly. "There was once a Demon-Path scoundrel who rampaged around Jiangnan, committing atrocities in several places. I had already changed classes back then, so I tried to investigate. But when I arrived at the crime scene, I couldn’t bear it... everyone was dead. The Demon-Path scoundrel must’ve used only his fists to conserve Spirit Jade. Victims had their skulls crushed or chests caved in. Even children weren’t spared... and he left in a rush, not even looting the Spirit Jade from the manor. He didn’t kill for robbery, nor for pleasure—he just wanted to kill."

"And it’s not an isolated case. It’s as if killing enough makes them completely fall, going mad like Secret Realm demons."

Yan Qing moved his lips, as if to say something, but stopped. Shang Xinlei noticed and asked, "Are you wondering why they don’t just join the Court instead of walking the Demon-Path?"

"Yeah."

"Because many Demon-Path members come from the garrisons. Ordinary folks don’t qualify to become Demon-Path. Maybe they were oppressed, maybe they were greedy. But in the end, they couldn’t accept having to struggle for years just to become proper Messengers. So they stole Tokens and Spirit Jade from the garrisons and ran... That’s what Demon-Path is—a group of people who can never rise within the system. They're like floods, blizzards, avalanches—inevitable disasters when the population grows too large." Shang Xinlei paused. "That’s what my father told me."

A structural contradiction.

Yan Qing understood immediately. Messenger resources were limited, while there were too many Reservist Messengers. Of course some would turn to crime. It was unsolvable—inevitable even in a perfectly just society, let alone when the ruling classes of the Three Nations of the Central Plains monopolized all upward mobility. No wonder Demon-Path was widespread.

But why did falling into the Demon-Path make people go insane?

"If you plan to send people into a Danger Zone, make sure they’re strong and vicious. Best to send a big group so they can watch each other’s backs. Otherwise, even common thugs could grind your people to death," Shang Xinlei warned. "All Demon-Path are lunatics. Even a Third-Stage Messenger might get ambushed and slaughtered in those places."

She paused. "Do you really need a Third-Stage Secret Realm? If it’s not urgent, wait until I reach Third-Stage. Then I can apply to participate in a Third-Stage raid. You and Jiang Ten can come with me—Jiang Ten as my guard, and you... as my servant."

It wasn’t exactly urgent. There was no immediate crisis. Yan Qing had asked more for future planning. After all, Jiang Ten and Ye Si couldn’t keep grinding the Zhen Sanshan Secret Realm forever. Jiang Ten’s beauty had already drawn too many suitors—it wouldn’t be long before she escaped the garrison. He had to find a new place for his alternate characters.

More importantly, all they needed to do now was clear daily quests. With the rest of the time free, of course he’d start a new alt and explore elsewhere.

"I can’t play a servant, but you’d be perfect as my maid." Yan Qing asked, "Out of the five Demon-Path Danger Zones, which one would you recommend?"

"In your dreams." Shang Xinlei stuck her tongue out and made a face. "As for recommendations... I don’t know much. But if you’re asking which Danger Zone holds the greatest value, without a doubt it’s Shudao Mountain, because it’s said to contain the legacy of the Foundation Messenger Si Wuxie."

"Foundation Legacy?" Yan Qing sounded doubtful. "Even if it’s real, someone must’ve taken it by now, right? And if it’s a Foundation legacy, wouldn’t other Foundation Messengers also have gone there?"

"It’s real," Shang Xinlei said. "Because Si Wuxie hid his legacy in a place even Foundation Messengers can barely touch—"

"A Fourth-Stage Secret Realm."

…

…

When Yan Qing closed the room door, he could still faintly hear Shang Xinlei’s voice bidding farewell.

He unwrapped his bandages while turning on the Naise game console. Checking the notification bar, he saw that the Mansu Woodland event had already ended, with no new events appearing.

Rat Monk was still en route to Lake Xuanwu, while Jiang Ten and Ye Si were taking a nap. These alternate characters were like grown-up pets now—requiring little care, not that he had ever really cared, just thrown them into fire and water.

In the room’s corner lay four Tokens glowing with a blue hue, and a pair of damaged Foundation Gloves.

He didn’t know what those Tokens did, but fortunately, Shang Xinlei—the inside agent siding with him—had investigated them earlier that morning. With this bait in hand, Yan Qing had accepted the invitation. He wasn’t just tempted by the food.

These four blue-glowing Tokens were the Water-Treading Boots, Soul-Refining Armor, and a pair of Steel Legguards. The Steel Legguards, like the Steel Belt Yan Qing currently wore, permanently boosted Vital Energy and Dexterity through prolonged wear. But while the Steel Belt was a common-grade item, the Steel Legguards were Rare Tokens.

The rarity showed in their effect: once strapped on, Yan Qing felt like his feet were welded to the ground. With the Steel Belt, he could still train normally; with the Legguards, even daily life required time to adapt.

The Water-Treading Boots had two powers: one for rapid gliding over water, and another for rapid gliding over land, though the latter consumed Spirit Energy. Yan Qing tested them—he zipped across the room in a single breath. Fun, sure, but it’d take time to master. For someone like him who couldn’t dodge perfectly in real life, this was just the movement Token he needed.

As for the Soul-Refining Armor, surprisingly, it was a Token for refining the soul.

When Yan Qing put it on, the Armor felt like a breathing organism, conforming to his build. He took a string of Hundred-Jade in each hand and began channeling Spirit Energy into the Armor.

One hundred... two hundred... five hundred... one thousand... three thousand...

As more Spirit Energy flowed in, he felt his soul becoming more ‘solid,’ like it had started pulsing with blood. After feeding in ten thousand Spirit Energy, the Armor’s blue glow faded completely, and the sensation vanished.

That was the effect of the Soul-Refining Armor—it strengthened the soul. Using it once cost ten thousand Spirit Jade and could only be done once a day. For ordinary people, it would be highly effective. But for Yan Qing, a First-Stage Messenger, it was only mildly helpful, boosting his stats by around 0.3—and only because his soul was a weakness. After his second job change improved that stat, the Armor’s effect would diminish even further.

And since it was limited to once daily, even rich players couldn’t justify the cost.

No wonder it was gathering dust in the Inner Treasury. Such high cost, such low return. Even Third-Stage Messengers didn’t earn ten thousand Spirit Jade a day—how could they afford to waste it? If Yan Qing hadn’t been exploiting the Trading Board to leech off the nation’s rich, he wouldn’t qualify to use it either.

Still, the price of blade technique manuals had dropped to eight or nine thousand each. Over time, that income would definitely fall.

After organizing the spoils, Yan Qing looked at the most valuable—but also the most useless—loot from his latest theft: the damaged Hands of Hundredfold Refinement.

Once Emperor Taizu of Liang’s weapon of conquest, its legacy outshone even the Bingzi Pepper Forest and the Heaven-Reliant Sword. Even in its broken state, it remained the Royal Family’s most prized artifact. It longed to become a king’s blade once more—but had fallen into the hands of a thief.

Yan Qing switched to Jiang Ten’s alternate character and contacted Gai Louxian, buying a product that surprised the latter greatly: Refined Gold Furnace Liquid.