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"Does Benefactor Li find it strange that this poor Daoist let that person go?" The middle-aged Daoist was silent for a moment before suddenly speaking.
"Heh heh! I suppose it is a little strange. That kid has some pretty nice magical tools — even I was tempted when I saw them!" The old man made no effort to hide his thoughts, answering bluntly.
"Then I'd advise Benefactor to abandon that notion as soon as possible. That man must not be killed!" The Daoist furrowed his brow, his words carrying a hint of warning.
The blue-robed elder's face flickered with a trace of surprise upon hearing this, but he said nothing. He knew that since the conversation had reached this point, the Daoist — given his character — would certainly explain everything clearly.
Sure enough, the Daoist continued in his flat, emotionless tone: "This man has deep connections with Ma Yunlong of Sky Fortress. It's best not to provoke him lightly!"
The old man's expression changed dramatically, and he couldn't help but exclaim in shock: "Ma Yunlong of Sky Fortress? The one who, in over a hundred years, has the greatest chance of reaching Core Formation?"
The Daoist let out a bitter laugh and sighed: "If not him, then who? I've met that man on several occasions. The Falling Dust Pearl that young man was holding is his famous magical tool — I'm absolutely certain of it! So this youth must have a deep connection with Ma Yunlong. It's best not to touch him."
"Quite right. Thank heavens for the fellow Daoist's reminder, or I truly would have made a grave mistake! Ahem — let's harvest the spirit herbs quickly. We don't need any more uninvited guests showing up!" The old man finally recovered from his shock and immediately proposed.
The Daoist readily agreed, and the two each took one stalk of the "Purple Monkey" herb before going their separate ways.
Similar events were playing out in several other locations at the same time — though the conflicts elsewhere were far less peaceful, erupting into fierce and explosive clashes.
On a rocky ridge in the Ring Mountains, near a stone shelter, four people had split into two factions and were battling each other with all manner of magical tools.
One man and one woman wore yellow garments — they were disciples of Yellow Maple Valley.
The man, around forty years old, had an air of scholarly refinement about him. In his hands he wielded a massive brush that gleamed with silver light and a golden book that radiated brilliant gold. With each wave and flick, silver talismans and golden light filled the sky, driving their two opponents into a desperate, sweat-drenched frenzy with ashen faces.
The beautiful young woman also directed two flying sword magical tools — one blue, one yellow — to assist from the side, but anyone with a discerning eye could see at a glance that her strength was worlds apart from her companion's. Compared to the two opponents across from them, she was like night and day, and her attacks served virtually no pinning function. In fact, she repeatedly needed her terrifyingly powerful partner to rush to her rescue!
And their opponents were not from the same sect.
One was an ugly brute with a green light barrier over his head, commanding a flying snake as thick as a bowl and a massive swarm of giant yellow hornets, desperately fending off the golden light assault raining down from the Yellow Maple Valley man. This was none other than Zhong Wu of Spirit Beast Mountain — the very same man who had traded intelligence with Han Li.
The other was a young man with a sinisterly handsome, almost effeminate face. Judging by his green robes, he was a disciple of Blade Transformation Dock.
Two red flying blades danced before him, radiating brilliant light — clearly no ordinary magical tools. These blades, which should have been offensive weapons, had now been turned into two wheel-sized shields of light, straining to hold back the countless silver talismans raining down like a sea of stars.
"Stop! We're done fighting — we admit defeat!" The Blade Transformation Dock young man, pushed beyond his limits, was the first to break and surrender. "You Chen siblings, you win this round! The spirit herbs in the stone shelter are yours!"
The ugly man Zhong Wu, standing nearby, listened without a word of protest, though a trace of unwillingness flickered across his features. He tacitly accepted the young man's concession and called his flying snake and hornet swarm back to his side.