Chapter 89

The trading town market sprawled beneath a sky streaked with the last hues of dusk, its wooden stalls and winding paths alive with the clamor of bartering voices and the clatter of traded goods.

Lanterns swayed gently in the evening breeze, casting pools of golden light over blankets strewn with wares crude tools, unpolished stones, and the occasional glint of something rarer.

Nie Li moved through the throng with a predator's quiet confidence, his sharp blue eyes and A.I.Chip scanning every corner for hidden treasures. His earlier excursions into the grand stores of the Ash Wolves, Divine Flames, and Silver Wing Families had yielded a bountiful haul blades for his friends, scrolls for study, and ores for crafting but the allure of stray relics kept him prowling the market's edges, a hunter seeking the overlooked.

Behind him, the two Silver Wing guards trailed like wary sentinels, their silver armor dulled by the day's dust. The two-star guard, a wiry youth with nervous energy, gripped his spear tightly, his gaze flickering between Nie Li and the bustling crowd.

"He's been at this for hours," he muttered under his breath, barely audible over the market's din.

The three-star guard, older and grizzled, adjusted the shield slung across his back, his stern face softened by the memory of the elixir bottles Nie Li had tossed them earlier—small vials of soul-reviving power that had turned their grudging duty into something closer to honest servitude.

"Let him search," he replied gruffly. "Young Master knows what he's after."

Nie Li paused beside a stall piled with chipped pottery and faded charms, his fingers brushing a tarnished bronze ring when a tremor pulsed through his soul realm.

The Tempestfang Dragon, coiled within him, stirred with a restless unease, its silent message threading through his mind like a spark on dry tinder.

His head snapped up, eyes narrowing as he turned toward the distant direction of the Silver Winged Family's territory.

The dragon's emotions flooded him disquiet, urgency and in an instant, clarity struck: his friends were under threat.

Without a word, he leapt skyward, his sudden ascent startling the guards.

"Young Master?" the two-star guard called, his voice cracking with confusion as he stumbled forward, nearly dropping his spear. The three-star guard squinted upward, his shield arm tensing as he barked, "What's got into him now?"

Before they could react, Nie Li merged with the Tempestfang Dragon midair. A blinding flash erupted, and a colossal blue dragon unfurled across the sky, its scales shimmering with arcs of lightning and gusts of wind. (Image)

Its massive wings beat once, the air crackling with raw, untamed power, and the sheer force of its presence sent a shockwave rippling through the market.

Stalls shuddered, blankets flew, and vendors cried out as their goods scattered in a sudden tornado born of the dragon's ascent. The guards staggered, clutching their helmets as the wind howled around them, their eyes wide with shock.

"It's… it's a dragon!" the two-star guard stammered, dropping to one knee as the oppressive soul force pressed down on him like a physical weight. "What in the hell is this?"

The three-star guard shielded his face, his voice hoarse with awe. "That's no ordinary demon spirit. This power is unbelievable! Where's he headed?"

The Tempestfang Dragon's roar split the night, a primal bellow that echoed like thunder across the trading town. Its glistening form dominated the dark skies, lightning dancing along its spines, wind swirling in its wake.

With a single, explosive burst of speed, it shot toward the Silver Winged Family's domain, leaving chaos in its wake.

The market descended into pandemonium—screams of terror mingled with shouts of wonder as the tornado tore through, toppling carts and scattering wares. (Image)

Yet Nie Li paid it no mind, his focus a razor's edge, his fury a storm brewing within the dragon's heart.

Amid the upheaval, an old man in tattered beggar's rags stood apart, untouched by the wind. His frail frame leaned forward hunched, his clouded eyes fixed on the fading streak of Nie Li's departure. (Image)

His lips moved in a low mutter, barely audible over the chaos. "Same body, different soul… same body, different soul… stories changed, things untold. Have the emperor's plans failed? Have they failed? No? Failed? Yes?"

His voice cracked into a laugh, a wild, unhinged sound that drew wary glances from those scrambling to salvage their stalls. "Infinity has no beginning, and no beginning has no end. Infinity has no beginning…" He cackled again, then stilled.

In an instant, his figure shimmered and vanished, a mirage dissolving into the night as if he'd never stood there at all.

.....

Miles away, within the Silver Winged Family's guest courtyard, the night was a battlefield of light and shadow. The air thrummed with the clash of steel and the roars of demon beasts, the ground trembling beneath the onslaught of the Book of Beast Array.

Xiao Ning'er stood at its heart, her dark ginger hair whipping in the summoned winds, her hands steady as she channeled her soul force into the glowing tome. (Image)

The array blazed around her, a symphony of power thousands of Gold rank beasts like Razorfang Boars and Shadowclaw Panthers tore through the ranks of guards, while hundreds of Black Gold rank titans—the Venomspire Scorpion, Frostfang Direwolf, and Blazewing Raptor unleashed havoc on the elders, Sikong Yan and Sikong Wei.

The two elders fought with ruthless precision, their blades flashing as they carved through the lesser beasts, but their robes hung in tatters, their bodies bloodied from the array's relentless assault.

Behind Xiao Ning'er, Duan Jian loomed, his fists clenched as his dark gold wings fluttering and his dark eyes blazing with a hunger to strike at his lifelong foes.

"Let me at them, My lady." he growled, his voice low and taut with barely restrained fury. "They deserve to bleed."

Xiao Ning'er waved him back, her voice firm despite the strain etching her delicate features. "Not yet, Duan Jian. We stall for now, Nie Li's coming. We protect ourselves first."

Just as Nie Li was able to sense her peril, she is also able to sense Nie Li's emotions and can feel that he is coming.

Cao Wang gripped his axe, his broad shoulders tense. "How long can you keep this up, My lady?" he asked, his deep voice tight with concern as he eyed the encroaching guards.

"As long as I must," she replied, her gaze unwavering, though her breath hitched slightly. "But it's draining me fast."

She has deduced that it's best to protect themselves as much as possible with array's powers, because although she can defend herself, her friends were not as powerful, and they may suffer casualties.

Du Ze adjusted his stance, his broadsword gleaming in the flickering light. "This array's a monstrous creation itself—less than the Ten Thousand beast array, but still a nightmare to face. We just need to hold out."

Lu Piao twirled his short blades, a nervous grin flickering across his face. "Yeah, let's not die before Nie Li swoops in to save the day, huh? He'd never let us live it down."

Xiao Xue clutched her dagger, her sharp eyes darting to the perimeter. "They're not letting up—look, more are coming. And that's the disgusting Patriarch now."

The courtyard's edge bristled with Silver Wing soldiers, their numbers swelling as Sikong Yi and Sikong Hongyue descended from the night sky.

The Patriarch landed with a heavy thud, his silver robes billowing, his weathered face creased with confusion as he surveyed the chaos.

"Why are they fighting?" he muttered, his voice a low growl as he gripped his sword's hilt. "Nie Li's crew wouldn't strike unprovoked—not here, definitely not without him."

Hongyue landed beside him, her dagger drawn, her silver hair glinting like steel. "Father, look at Elder Yan and Wei—they're wounded. This is their doing, isn't it?"

Sikong Yi's eyes narrowed, rage flaring as the pieces fell into place. "Those fools…" he hissed, but he shoved his anger aside. "No time for answers now. They've attacked; we finish it. Capture them, we can use them as leverage against that brat."

His hand tightened around his sword, its blade shimmering with a faint, sickly sheen. Though his health had eroded his Legend-rank strength, Nie Li's elixir had dulled his chronic pain, freeing more of his power. He lunged forward, slashing at the array with a force that split the air like thunder.

Xiao Ning'er gritted her teeth, her soul force straining as she summoned the array's defenses. Lightning crackled, poison mist billowed, and fire roared in response, clashing against Sikong Yi's assault.

The Patriarch carved through a Shadowclaw Panther with a single stroke, its form dissipating into motes of light, but more beasts surged to replace it.

"Hold the line!" she called to her companions, her voice steady despite the sweat beading on her brow. She wasn't a master of the array's attack formations—its full offensive might eluded her grasp—but its raw power held firm, shielding her friends from the onslaught of one Legend rank, two Black Gold ranks, and dozens of Gold rank guards.

Fifteen to twenty Silver Wing fighters lay dead already, their bodies strewn across the courtyard, a grim testament to the array's ferocity.

Half an hour dragged by, each minute an eternity of strain. Xiao Ning'er's breath grew ragged, her soul force flickering like a candle in a gale.

"He's close," she whispered to herself, sensing Nie Li's approach through their shared bond of Tempestfang Dragon—a distant echo of his wrath racing nearer.

The elders pressed harder, their blades relentless, while Sikong Yi's strikes grew fiercer, each blow shaking the array's foundation. Yet it held, a fragile bulwark against the tide.

Then, a crackling sound pierced the horizon—a sizzling hum that swelled into a roar. The Gold rank guards faltered, their ears deaf to it, but Sikong Yan, Sikong Wei, and Sikong Yi froze, their senses attuned to the wrath barreling toward them.

"What's that?" Yan rasped, clutching his bloodied chest, his voice thick with dread and pain.

Wei dodged a swipe from the Frostfang Direwolf, his eyes widening as he glanced skyward. "It's him—too soon! It should've taken hours!"

Sikong Yi's grip tightened on his sword, his weathered face paling as the aura slammed into him—a soul force cresting near the peak of Legend rank, perhaps beyond.

"By the ancestors…" he breathed, his voice trembling despite his resolve. He'd never felt anything like it—not in decades of battle, not even in his prime. The air shimmered with static, a paralyzing light swelling on the horizon, locking limbs and silencing shouts before Nie Li even appeared.

"Brace yourselves," he barked, his tone sharp with an edge of fear. "He's coming—and he's not here to talk."

The courtyard held its breath, the array flickering under Xiao Ning'er's waning strength, the Silver Wing forces poised between triumph and terror as the storm of Nie Li's fury drew near. The night stretched taut, a battlefield suspended in fragile tension, each side waiting for the inevitable clash.