Chapter 373: Cant We Talk It Out?

Chapter 373: Can't We Talk It Out?

"Dragon General Mo Que! He's... he's a heavily renowned general appointed at the divine capital..." Xu Tai tilted his head back, watching the arrow streak across the sky and leave a long, trailing scar. His expression turned solemn as alarm bells rang out in his mind. Most martialists from martial academies remained at the Aura Realm. But if they awakened their lifearc and broke through to the Clearing Realm, they would be officially registered, securing a place within the favored "in-group."

Yet, being registered was ultimately worthless. It meant nothing more than a lifetime of subordinate work within the city, serving as a clerk, runner, or a guard. They would never walk the true path of cultivation or hope to amass the resources needed for a breakthrough. Only the scions of prominent houses, backed by the vast wealth of their families, could smoothly cross this watershed that obstructed seventy to eighty percent of martialists to reach the Clearing Realm, rising to become true officials rather than mere petty officials.

Such was the case for Xu Tai, whose humble background forced him to leave his martial academy and government employment to seek cultivation resources on his own. Should he advance to the Clearing Realm, he would earn a place within the core government and the opportunity to truly become one of the inner circle.

With even greater luck, he might achieve another breakthrough or receive a mandate carrying the full power of a sage, then he would enter Grand Chen's decision-making stratum, granting him governance of an entire prefecture like other regional commanders, generals, and miscellaneous commanders. Though they worked for the central government without yet belonging to the innermost circle, they commanded significant influence over their respective territories.

There was only one road for those who aspired to become influential figures and enter the empire's core political arena—to be appointed at the divine capital. Only those who were granted an audience with the emperor himself, mandated at the True Martial Arena, and underwent the process of sacred manifestation would be bestowed an honorific title. As titled generals, they would command a whole army to defend a particular region.

Dragon General Mo Que was nothing short of a legend among the northern warriors of Grand Chen, or at the very least, among the alumni of martial academies. He began as a humble resident of the Baiyuan Region, near the Great Wall of North Ocean. Serving as a crucial frontline against ocean beasts and feys, the region possessed a fierce and deeply ingrained martial culture. From a young age, Mo Que followed his soldier father to hunt down coastal feys, slaying dozens of them before he was even twelve years old.

Upon entering a martial academy through a local recommendation, his ascent was meteoric, like a dragon taking to the skies. His strength advanced by leaps and bounds as he braved twenty-eight battles across North Ocean, slaughtering countless foes and feys. He climbed the ranks from squad leader to captain, and then to commander, before ultimately securing his promotion to general with the head of a crown fey.

During the era of imperial summons and appointments two hundred years ago, Mo Que pacified North Ocean with a single arrow, striking down the Frostrain Dragon King, a crown fey that had unleashed devastation upon northern Baiyuan. Leading his forces, he razed the Frostrain Palace to the ground, annihilated over a thousand dragon-blood feys, and expanded the empire's northern maritime borders by tens of thousands of li. This feat won him the favor of the late emperor, who titled him "Dragon General" and bequeathed him total authority over the Great Wall of North Ocean.

How could a man whose legendary life was forged in the slaughter of feys and the expansion of the empire's borders possibly deign to interfere in a matter as trivial as the northern frontier? Xu Tai couldn't fathom it. Delving into the past glory of the Dragon General only made the situation seem more absurd. It was one thing if his worthless son was involved, but why would he intervene?

An Jing was entirely unaware of Mo Que's renown or past. Amid the ruins of the guild headquarters, he tilted his head to look at his right shoulder after dodging the arrow. Although Temporal Grasp allowed him to evade just in time, the fabric at his shoulder had split wide open, revealing Netherscale beneath. He would have been wounded, sustaining an open, bleeding gash if it weren't for the protection of both his armor and Evenstar Ivory Divine Seal, and that was from merely being indirectly grazed by the arrow!

"Interesting." An Jing narrowed his eyes at "Young Master Mo" who now stood perfectly straight, no longer carrying even a hint of his former profligate demeanor. He stared at the flickering blue fire in those eyes. "An incredible shot, splitting heaven and earth and driving back gods and enlightened ones alike. It's a truly powerful arrow meant for legendary beasts. But you're no longer worthy of it."

"And you are..." The wisp of Mo Que's consciousness offered no reply. The blue fire flickered faintly before he spoke with a trace of surprise in his voice, "To actually evade that arrow... You're certainly no ordinary Fortification martialist. Tell me, what Grand Dao mantra or heavenly man divine technique do you practice? Are you from Dustdawn or the Heavenly Demon Cult? Hmm..."

He studied him intently before a look of sudden realization crossed his face. "Wait. You're An Jing. Ha." A chuckle escaped the Dragon General who currently occupied his grandson's body. "So it's a human tribulation? I'm intrigued. With the local Clearing Realm adepts gone, I assumed nothing could go wrong. I never expected a Fortification martialist bearing a divine arc to get in my way..."

At the same time, a voice echoed within the hazy mind of Young Master Mo. "Mo Li, your bloodline is burning out. You can't sustain this power for much longer. If you wish to live, you must activate the formation discs' blessing and capture or kill this divine-arc bearer! It's your only shot."

Though An Jing's punch had shattered his heart meridian, leaving the young master in agonizing pain, Mo Li shuddered at the sound of his grandfather's calm command. Without a moment's hesitation, he rasped, "Yes, Grandfather."

An Jing frowned as he stared at the young master's body. The man's caved-in chest and fading vitality were returning to normal right before his eyes. A wave of freezing air coalesced from the surrounding blizzard, causing him to explode with an oppressive, menacing presence. However, the blue fire in his eyes was dying out rapidly, until only a tiny spark remained. According to Yvelbane, this was the residual effect of burning through too much of his strange bloodline. Invoking his elder's power at the brink of death and healing his injuries meant using up what was essentially a second life.

Logically speaking, his opponent had recovered but also exhausted all his trump cards. He was undoubtedly at his most vulnerable. An Jing should have charged right in and unleashed another fatal strike to claim a second kill against an opponent he had already obliterated once, yet he remained rooted to the spot, motionless. His spirit sense told him that the area around Mo Li was currently most dangerous so he couldn't rush in blindly. But so what if he couldn't get close?

An Jing retrieved an ordinary sword case from his void artifact, channeled Evenstar lethal qi into it, and fired. The flying sword shot out like a white light, streaking straight toward Mo Li's head. It should have instantly obliterated the skull of the Dragon General's descendant, but a pale golden glow emerged, deflecting the white light and snapping it off to the side. Just as I thought.

Mo Li clicked his tongue in frustration, realizing he had no way to blindside his opponent. The ruins shuddered with a low hum. Twin formation discs of cyan and gold rose from the depths of the Bejeweled Traders Guild, where the government office once stood. Parting the shattered rock and debris, they rotated behind Mo Li like the yin-yang symbol, radiating waves of cyan and gold that rippled outward—Four Symbols of Virtuous Reign and Martial Fruition.

At this moment, the blue fire in Mo Li's eyes had dwindled to a mere sliver. It was a sign that the Dragon General's power had vanished, leaving only a wisp of psychic will to guide his grandson.

"So, this is your real trump card?" An Jing arched an eyebrow. Though he looked completely unfazed, his heart tensed. Clearly, these two formation discs represented the true agenda of the Bejeweled Traders Guild, the Dragon General, and their entire faction. By revealing this to him, they were going all out to eliminate an unstable variable like himself.

"An Jing..." said Mo Li.

An Jing figured the young man would simply hide behind his grandfather's power and talk trash. He was just about to scoff internally, tune him out, and keep fighting, but he had vastly underestimated the bizarre logic of these young masters from the capital.

"Can't we talk it out?"