The Frightened White-Robed King

Pondering the intricacies of reaching the king realm, Qin Huai wondered if a second king domain awaited him. It wasn’t the right time to probe Zhang Youji about it, given the implications of his unique cultivation of the emperor’s force — a secret known only to the ancient kings, now his allies. Disclosing this could plunge the budding prosperity of East Qingzhou’s ten counties into chaos.

Silencing his internal debate, Qin Huai listened as Zhang Youji said, “Alright, I’ll go meet that white-robed king first.” The latter then vanished without warning.

Gou Jie, taken aback by the abrupt exit, said, “What a fast and powerful breath control technique.” His bemusement was evident. “These techniques from the Dao Child seem almost… underhanded. Quite the enigma.”

“Who knows?” Qin Huai drained his bowl and rose, gazing towards the Heart’s Eye Pavilion. “I’ll return later. Save the meal for me.”

“Alliance Master, are you going to the Heart’s Eye Pavilion?”

Planning to follow Zhang Youji, Qin Huai addressed Gou Jie’s concerns, “Ah, we can’t really let Daozi go alone, right?”

“Well…”

Before Gou Jie could protest, Qin Huai said, “No need for debate. We three will handle it.” Gou Jie followed Qin Huai’s glance to the silent black-robed man.

“As always, be careful, Alliance Master,” Gou Jie cautioned.

Suddenly, majestic Kun Peng wings unfurled from Qin Huai’s back. With a single powerful beat, a gust of wind formed, elevating him into the air. As he soared, the king corpse followed suit, powered by a surge of blood essence.

Both figures became increasingly distant, yet Qin Huai maintained control, ensuring both were aligned for mutual support if danger arose.

Navigating Qingzhou City’s sky, Qin Huai noticed the once overpowering scent of blood was now bearable, possibly due to his increased resilience from refining the blood sea. Below, the city bore scars of past events. Once-bustling streets lay in shambles with only a handful of newly constructed pavilions dotting the landscape.

As Qin Huai soared through the wind, hints of alcohol and rouge tickled his senses. Such scents painted a vivid picture of what had become of Qingzhou City.

Amidst the recent upheavals, a new order had emerged. Some sought solace in pavilions with alcohol, while others scavenged amongst heaps of discarded bones. Worse yet, some crawled, having lost their legs, propelled only by their arms.

Though such sights could evoke pity in many, Qin Huai remained unmoved. He recognized that the remaining inhabitants of Qingzhou were mostly lunatics and fanatics who resorted to unthinkable acts for power.

Approaching the ruins of the Thousand Divination Tower, Qin Huai descended gracefully. In contrast, the king corpse slammed into the ground, leaving a large crater.

“I need to practice more on controlling the king corpse,” he mused.

Rather than ascending the mountain himself, he manipulated the king corpse to advance. Few members of the Sacred Heart Sect roamed the vicinity of the Thousand Divination Tower. Their auras suggested they served the white-robed king in mundane roles like cooking or conveying messages rather than as devout disciples.

To Qin Huai’s surprise, no guards stood sentinel at the tower. But he realized that the white-robed king, a king realm martial artist, had no need for such precautions.

Reaching the Heart’s Eye Pavilion, a palpable aura emanated from its second floor, akin to a moon’s brilliance piercing the night. The king corpse fixed its gaze on the white-robed king, who sat serenely with closed eyes. But within his sleeves, a soul needle charged with king’s force readied itself.

Suddenly, a powerful aura erupted. A wave of energy radiated outwards from the pavilion, alerting the white-robed king, who in a blink, lunged into the air, palm-first.

The king corpse braced for impact. But the expected attack was eerily absent, as though the white-robed king was striking thin air.

Qin Huai’s attention shifted, realizing this was Zhang Daozi’s handiwork. An assassination attempt? Reflecting on Zhang Youji’s penchant for unpredictability, Qin Huai couldn’t shake an unsettling feeling.

“This white-robed king is so cunning,” Qin Huai mused aloud. “Using that spirit stone merely as a lure. He wishes me to bite, to become ensnared in his trap.”

Although Qin Huai had access to the spirit world, traversing back to the mortal plane wasn’t instantaneous. And given Zhang Daozi’s brash actions, it stood to reason that he wouldn’t have alerted the white-robed king beforehand.

The near-empty Thousand Divination Tower wasn’t solely a product of the white-robed king’s arrogance but also his strategizing. Casually seated at the Heart’s Eye Pavilion, he toyed with a spirit stone, anticipating an ambush. The white-robed king’s poise was commendable, but it seemed his plot had been unsuccessful.

Surveying his surroundings, the white-robed king felt a shiver down his spine. As Qin Huai surmised, the white-robed king had indeed been fishing with those spirit stones, hoping to lure him or perhaps Kong Binghuang from Wuji Mountain. Yet the assailant’s identity had clearly blindsided him. The white-robed king only detected the impending attack when it was nearly too late.

“What concealment technique is this?” he mused aloud, attempting to pierce the veil of invisibility. “You’re not from Qingzhou, right?”

Time crawled by in tense silence. Minutes turned into an hour, with the white-robed king hovering above, waiting for a sign. But the skies above Heart’s Eye Pavilion remained undisturbed.

Resigned, the white-robed king descended. “You there,” he said to the king corpse. “Fetch me a sight bead from the storeroom.”

Whoosh!

As the king corpse began its trek to the storeroom, a potent force, reminiscent of mountains collapsing, plummeted from the heavens.

“Did you believe I wouldn’t detect the anomaly within you?” The white-robed king’s voice echoed with icy detachment.

With speed that defied logic, the king corpse wheeled around, unleashing a torrent of power.

Boom!

The two collided with a deafening sound, rupturing the very earth beneath them and sending debris skyward. For a brief moment, a clear sky emerged, framed by the debris, bathing the land in sunlight.

“King realm?” the white-robed king questioned, parrying the relentless barrage from the king corpse. “Who are you?”

Their battle was a sight to behold: fists met fists, strength against strength. Despite enduring multiple blows from the white-robed king, the king corpse remained unwavering, without a scratch.

The white-robed king’s bewilderment was palpable. Where did this monster come from?