Chapter 271 - 138: The Hunt

Outside the entrance to the Secret Realm, a temporary camp stretched for miles.

The various factions were encamped in clearly demarcated areas. A steady stream of Martial Artists arrived at the camp, rushing in one after another.

At the entrance, the massive Xingxuan slowly rotated, breathing in and out pure Spiritual Qi. Occasionally, a severely wounded Martial Artist would burst out of the Secret Realm and be immediately whisked away by their respective faction.

The Secret Realm was filled with endless opportunities for Spiritual Objects and fortunate encounters, but it was also teeming with Fierce Beasts. It was a place where opportunity and danger coexisted.

But even so, as more Martial Artists arrived, they charged in without a second thought.

At the edge of the camp, atop an unremarkable bluestone.

Elder Huang sat cross-legged. Before him was a simple wooden table holding a pot of coarse tea and two ceramic cups.

He picked up the teapot and slowly poured two cups. The tea was murky, and steam curled from it languidly.

Chen Xuanfeng sat down across from him, picked up his cup, and took a sip. He frowned. ’This tea is truly awful.’

"Brother Huangfu," Chen Xuanfeng said, setting down the cup and looking at Elder Huang. "After all these years, you’re still drinking this wild tea."

Elder Huang didn’t even raise his eyelids. He picked up his own cup, drained it in one gulp, and smacked his lips. "Call me Old Huang. As for ’Huangfu’... not many people remember that name anymore."

Chen Xuanfeng was silent for a moment. His gaze shifted to the massive entrance of the Secret Realm in the distance, and he lowered his voice. "You’ve stayed here on Central Origin Island for thirty years. Can you really get used to a place like the Back Mountain Alchemy Room at the Martial Arts Academy? This Secret Realm has appeared with such a huge commotion... is this what you’ve been looking for?"

Elder Huang’s hand, which was pouring tea, paused slightly.

The tea sloshed out, splashing in the ceramic cup.

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he poured himself another cup, took a slow sip, and only then did he look up at Chen Xuanfeng.

"What if it is, and what if it isn’t?" Elder Huang’s tone was flat. "What’s meant to be will be. It’s useless to force what isn’t."

Chen Xuanfeng sighed. He knew his senior brother’s temperament; asking any more questions would be pointless.

The two sat in silence, with only the steam from the coarse tea drifting away in the cold wind.

Just then—

From the eastern horizon, a strange rhythm suddenly echoed—clear, high, and ethereal, stirring the soul.

Within the camp, all Martial Artists at the True Gang Realm and above sensed it at the same time and looked up in unison!

An unseen force parted the clouds in the east, and a Magical Artifact, a Treasure Ship over a hundred feet long and as white as jade, broke through.

The bow of the Treasure Ship was carved in the shape of an immortal crane with its wings spread. Faint golden Runes flowed across its hull, which was wreathed in a radiant glow. It was clearly a Flying Magical Treasure of an extremely high grade.

One moment it was at the edge of the horizon, and in the blink of an eye, it was already hovering over the camp!

The Treasure Ship slowly descended, stopping about thirty feet off the ground as the radiant glow around it gradually receded.

A dozen or so figures floated down gracefully from the ship.

Leading them was a middle-aged man in a moon-white robe. He had a gaunt face, a long, three-stranded beard, a tall crown on his head, and a sheathed Ancient Sword on his back.

His aura was as deep and heavy as an abyss. As his gaze swept over the camp, everyone felt their hearts tighten, as if grazed by an invisible Sword Intent.

Behind him followed twelve young Disciples.

Six men and six women, all dressed in identical light-blue, cloud-patterned Daoist Robes, were arranged in two separate lines by gender.

The men were handsome and stood tall, while the women were beautiful and otherworldly. Each of them had a condensed aura; all had already advanced to the True Gang Realm!

These Disciples were no older than twenty-one or twenty-two, yet their eyes were steady and their bearing was extraordinary. They were clearly handpicked prodigies of the Martial Dao.

What was even more eye-catching was the White Jade Token hanging from each of their waists. The front of the token was engraved with the word "Penglai," while the back depicted the faint outline of an Immortal Mountain shrouded in Cloud Mist.

"A Penglai Sect Token!"

Someone in the camp gasped.

Instantly, all the Martial Artists of the Four Islands Alliance, whether from the Main Courtyard or the various great families, bowed in salute!

Chen Xuanfeng had already risen to his feet. He strode forward and bowed deeply. "Chen Xuanfeng, Instructor Elder of the Four Islands Alliance Headquarters, respectfully welcomes the Upper Envoy!"

The man in the moon-white robe swept his gaze over the camp. His eyes paused on Elder Huang for a moment, a flash of surprise in them, before he regained his composure.

"Junior Brother Chen, there is no need for such formalities."

His voice was gentle, yet it carried clearly to everyone’s ears. "I am Liu Jingtiao. By order of the Sect, I have brought these disciples here to train in the Secret Realm."

He paused and looked at the disciples behind him. "All of you, remember: inside the Secret Realm, you rely on your own abilities. But you must also remember the Sect’s teachings and not tarnish the name of our Penglai Sect."

"We will remember!"

The twelve young disciples responded in unison, their voices clear and resonant.

Liu Jingtiao nodded slightly, then turned his gaze back toward the bluestone, the corner of his mouth curving into a smirk.

"Well, well, I never expected this,"

He said as he slowly walked toward Elder Huang. "Junior Brother Huangfu, it’s been thirty years. To think you’re still holed up in this desolate wasteland, drinking such coarse tea."

A dead silence fell over the camp.

Countless gazes focused on Elder Huang.

Chen Xuanfeng sighed inwardly. ’Who can truly say what happened back then?

’Besides, I’m just an ordinary Outer Disciple of the Sect. Although I’ve achieved Core Formation and Breaking Mortality, I can’t advance any further. I can only live out the rest of my days at the Four Islands Alliance Headquarters.

’Senior Brother Huangfu was different. His talent was outstanding. Who would have thought he’d fall to such a state?’

At this, Elder Huang finally set down his tea cup, raised his eyelids, and shot Liu Jingtiao a disdainful look.

His tone was flat, even tinged with impatience. "And who might this be? Ah, it’s you, the windbag. Has the Penglai Sect run out of people? They actually sent you on this trip."

Liu Jingtiao, far from being offended, chuckled lightly. "Junior Brother, you still have the same temper. If you had just been willing to bow your head back then, would you have ended up wasting thirty years in this place? And now, the appearance of a mere Secret Realm like this... is this your so-called search for the Dao Fruit?"

Although the commotion surrounding this Secret Realm was great, in the eyes of the Penglai Sect, it was nothing special. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have sent only a few Outer Disciples to vie for its opportunities.