Zhan Long

Chapter 897 His Former Confidante

Gale Grasper — one of the Creed of Divinity’s three greatest combat battle spells that allowed its wielder the ability to move swords or sabers at a distance using Mana.

This was a technique that could only be used with such deadly efficacy by Cultivators above Class VII.

“D-Does that mean that Junior Zhiyuan’s at Class VII now?!”

Lu Chuan was astounded beyond belief.

Standing tall and proud with the gold-bladed saber stuck in the ground beside him, Li Zhiyuan was truly a formidable sight that could easily put the fear of Heavens into any foe facing him.

With cold fury, he stared at the frightened ragtag bunch of rabble, who were acolytes and initiates of the Order of the Golden Glare and the Faith of Sacred Zest, and said with frost in his voice, “Lay down your arms and surrender, or I shall have no mercy.”

The icy voice reached every ear and every corner of the spacious cloister with resounding reverberation despite Li Mu’s quiet and steely tone.

Beats of silence passed by.

Until an Elder of the Faith was the first to break his silence. “We of the Faith will never…”

“KILL HIM! AVENGE THE GRAND MASTER!” cried another voice.

“We have more men than they do!” yelled a third.

The entire mob began clamoring and roaring like wild beasts, suddenly infused with a newfound fervor and bloodlust to resist.

The world of warriors really was teeming with no shortage of impulsive recklessness.

“Yet another bad choice.”

Li Mu noted sardonically, shaking his head.

He did not even wait for himself to finish. The golden saber broke free of the gravel and shot forth in a blinding golden streak, tracing a deadly curve before it rounded back to Li Mu’s side.

More than a dozen heads fell off their shoulders and plopped to the ground, rolling morbidly in a grotesque trail of blood.

The acrid odor of blood filled the nostrils of everyone who still drew breath.

Those who were beheaded were those who dared to protest against Li Mu’s offer.

The mob of invaders fell as silent as lambs. What thoughts of defiance they had, they gulped it down without any more dissent. Not unless they wish to suffer the same fate as their dead and headless comrades now lying at their feet. What started as a one-sided battle had effectively turned into an all-out slaughter. The invaders all fell to their knees, prostrating themselves in humble and meek bows as they lowered their heads to the ground with full submission, for they know that the slightest sign of challenge to Li Mu now would result in another golden swish and their heads lopped off.

The remaining members of the Creed, awestruck for seconds before they could finally react, burst into jubilant cheers.

It was the elation of being able to survive and the exultation that the Creed’s most gifted and greatest champion had returned his recovery, notwithstanding the favorable resolution of the Creed’s century-old blood feud against the Faith — all of which was reason enough for the everyone in the Creed to be ecstatic about.

All eyes fell upon the man clothed in robes as white as milk.

“I’m back.”

Li Mu said quietly, smiling at Li Zhiyuan’s formerly-estranged brothers-in-arm.

The brutal frost on his face when he slayed his enemies was gone, replaced by an affectionate smile as warm as summer

It was through Li Zhiyuan’s memories that Li Mu completely appreciated how the Creed was a actually tight-knit family where everyone was intimate and friendly to each other. Competitions and rivalry existed between the members of the brotherhood, but in a positive and healthy manner, making the environment cut out for the fostering of growth and success. Even after Li Zhiyuan’s calamitous ruin that resulted in the death of the former Grand Master and the order being severely weakened and disgraced, no one in the Creed truly blamed him nor hated him.

These were brothers and family to him.

If only the Bell of Divine Invocation could have been rung much sooner, or he could have arrived earlier to prevent the deaths of so many members of the Creed. The Creed might have prevailed, but the loss of more than half its men remained too heavy a blow to bear.

For all its good and bad, Molderad was just as tough and harsh as the worlds Li Mu had been to.

…

Ten days later.

At the inner ward of the Creed’s stronghold.

The Creed of Divinity has completed the preliminary assimilation of both the Faith of Sacred Zest and the Order of the Golden Glare’s remaining members into its own. Grand Master Lu Chuan might not be as gifted in the cultivation of his powers, but he was nevertheless a genius in matters of administration and he did a great job in handling the task.

Despite the Creed’s tattered reputation and the lack of respect, it was Li Mu’s presence that had made his job easier.

Li Mu had not been idle either. He spent days studying, mastering, and honing his command of the Creed’s three greatest techniques: Gale Grasper, the Cloudwater-styled saber discipline, and the Divine Tranquility, a self-augmentation mental-based enchantment.

With thinner Mana in Molderad’s atmosphere, the inhabitants of this world were compelled to develop cutting-edge and stronger combat crafts that could even eclipse that of the Ziwei Star Zone — battle spells and techniques that require low quantities of Mana but could deliver deadlier attacks.

Cultivators of the Ziwei Star Zone could rely on the abundance of Primordial Qi in the atmosphere there, hence the lack of need for more complex and advanced battle spells or techniques.

That oddly reminded Li Mu of the Darwinian theory of evolution he learned from Earth.

More often than not, it has always been a species’ surrounding environment that has been the most imperative reason behind the species’ growth and evolution to adapt.

That piqued Li Mu’s interest in the battle spells and combat techniques of this world.

Cultivators from the Ziwei Star Zone and the combat techniques of this world could very much be a very deadly and potent combination.

In ten days, Li Mu fully grasped all three greatest battle spells of the Creed of Divinity, and the potency of the techniques amazed Li Mu beyond his comprehension.

By Li Mu’s estimation, Class VIII at Molderad was equivalent to the Celestial Being Realm by Ziwei Star Zone-reckoning. But the battle spells of the Creed of Divinity were sufficient enough to best even a Cultivator of the Void-breaking Realm.

“So is this why the disciplines of Zhenwu Boxing and Xiantian Skill work so well here? It’s because this is a world that exists for battle spells and combat skills? Well, I guess it’s only because of how thin Mana is in the atmosphere here.”

Li Mu took into the air and tested the Gale Grasper, the Cloudwater-styled saber discipline, and lastly, the Divine Tranquility before he landed back in the inner ward of the Creed’s stronghold.

The cultivation of his powers needed to begin anew here in this new world.

To that end, aside from the disciplines of Xiantian Skill and Zhenwu Boxing, he had decided to forgo the cultivation of any immortal crafts for now, devoting the rest of his time and effort to catching up on the battle spells and techniques of warriorship that he had long since neglected.

“You’ve made a great leap in surpassing us all and achieving the highest level of warriorship amongst us all — all except your mentor, I guess. As the most accomplished Cultivator, I think you should take over as Grand Master of our order.”

Lu Chuan broached the subject of abdicating as Grand Master of the Creed of his own volition.

It was usual for Grand Masters to be the most powerful member of a militant sect or order and Li Zhiyuan had once enjoyed an illustrious and respectable reputation. Even though he had suffered a brief stint of ruin and despair, he had reclaimed himself by coming back and avenging the order’s honor by annihilating two rival orders all in one fell swoop. Those were the reasons behind Lu Chuan’s wish to voluntarily give up his position.

Molderad has and always be a world where the fittest and the strongest survive.

Li Mu shook his head. “You are Grand Master of the Creed, Senior Lu Chuan, the one who knows ins and outs of everything in the order like the back of your hand. Whereas I am but only just a simple man whose sights are set on nothing but the study of warriorship. This is a mantle I cannot take over and a responsibility that I am not fit to bear. You are the best man for this position, Senior.”

“B-But…” Lu Chuan would have protested much more, but he could see that Li Mu’s decision was made, and furthermore, he was right. Being Grand Master would mean that Li Mu has to sacrifice any further advancement in his quest to seek greater heights in warriorship.

But the conversation invoked the painful memories of his fall from grace and the many deaths and losses the Creed has endured, leaving both men standing before each other in pensive and somber silence.

“Rest assured, brother, I have not forgotten about our former Grand Master’s death. In time, I will personally settle this score with the Priory,” said Li Mu.

The Priory of the Four Seas — the militant order whose assassins had ambushed the Creed of Divinity group when they were making their way home after Li Zhiyuan’s defeat in the tournament months ago. The former Grand Master had to sacrifice himself back then to keep his disciples safe and even after he was killed, the Creed of Divinity was not able to recover his remains for a proper burial.

“News of your reemergence must be reaching far and wide by now, brother,” warned Lu Chuan. “Much as I, you know full well that the Priory must be ready for you. I would advise caution and prudence.”

“Trust me, Senior,” said Lu Mu. “I know what to do.”

One of the Creed’s younger initiates came scampering in. He clapped his eyes on Li Mu first, then after a split-second of hesitation, he bowed to both of them. “Grand Master, Senior Li. The Vestal of the White Lotus of Crescentfrost, Lady Dongfang wishes to meet you both. She says that it’s about something important and she’s just outside.”

“What?! And she dares to come here?!” An enraged Lu Chuan bellowed like an erupting volcano as he slammed a fist into his desk. “We have no interest in wasting our time with the likes of such treacherous snake! Sent her away!”

Dongfang Qinghong of Crescentfrost, also known as the Vestal of the White Lotus, was the fairest lady in all of the Northern Steppes and once Li Zhiyuan’s confidante before she poisoned him and caused his defeat during the tournament that eventually ended in him becoming a cripple.

To say that she was an evil schemer capable of concocting the most wicked and heinous of plots would not be an understatement.

There was little to wonder about Lu Chuan’s immediate anger as soon as he heard her name.

But Li Mu had something else on his mind. “It’s fine. Let her in. Something important, huh? Let’s hear what she has to say.”