Chapter 18: Chickens of War

When Jin Zhen said he wanted his sect to soar above the rest, flying poultry wasn't quite what he meant.

The mutated chickens—now dubbed Crimson Sky Fowl by the system—had grown larger, sleeker, and more aggressive. Their feathers shimmered with spiritual energy, their talons left claw marks in stone, and worst of all, they had learned formation tactics.

[System Notification][Crimson Sky Fowl detected. Rank: Spirit Beast (Low-Tier)][Unique Trait: Group Coordination – Squad Attacks +15% Efficiency][Recommended Action: Contain or Militarize]

"...Militarize?" Jin Zhen raised a brow. "You're seriously suggesting I field an army of flying chickens?"

[System Response][Correction: Spirit-enhanced Crimson Sky Fowl. Potential aerial reconnaissance and surprise assault units. Very cost-effective. Also: delicious backup food source.]

He sighed. "Fine. Summon Lan Yuer."

Minutes later, Lan Yuer arrived, already aware of the feathered fiasco.

"I've compiled a list of potential names," she said, unfazed. "Crimson Talons, Beaks of Ruin, Sky-Feather Division—"

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Immensely."

The training ground had been converted into a makeshift coop-and-camp. Disciples in light armor carefully guided chickens with spirit feed and long bamboo poles. One unfortunate outer disciple had a talon-shaped burn mark on his forehead.

"These things are faster than most Foundation Realm disciples," Lan Yuer noted. "We can pair them with puppet armor or ranged talismans."

Jin Zhen smirked. "I never thought poultry would become my sect's air force."

Elsewhere, Fang Mu was busy recording chicken metrics.

"Flight duration: 3.4 minutes. Talon sharpness: capable of slicing pork. Reaction time: faster than my ex."

"Fang," Jin Zhen warned, "try not to date the chickens."

"Noted."

[System Alert][New Unit Type Registered: Crimson Sky Cavalry][Current Count: 27 Combat-Ready Fowl][Morale Boost: +12% among outer disciples. Quote: "Sect Master is either insane or brilliant."]

Jin Zhen chuckled. "Why not both?"

Later that day, a merchant caravan arrived—flanked by guards and led by a sly man in blue robes, riding a three-eyed donkey.

"Greetings, exalted Crimson Sect! I am Yu Gong of the Wandering Cauldron Consortium. Word has reached us of your Ember Lilies and... tactical poultry?"

Jin Zhen motioned toward the coop. "They fly. They attack. They don't negotiate."

Yu Gong whistled. "My customers will love that. Especially the ones with chicken-based trauma."

Negotiations commenced.

[Trade Established][Ember Lilies Sold – 480 Spirit Coins][New Supply Route Pending. Caravan to return monthly.][Bonus Gained: Rare Alchemy Manual – 'Scorching Bloom Technique']

"Not bad," Jin Zhen muttered. "Now if only I could get rid of Fang's commentary."

"I heard that!"

At night, Jin Zhen reviewed his status.

[Status Update]SP: 0Wealth: 4,320 Spirit Coins | 2,750 Mid-Grade Spirit StonesSect Rank: C (Stable)Fame: RisingUnique Resources: Ember Lilies, Crimson Sky Fowl

[Hidden Achievement Unlocked][Feathers of Fury – Create a Spirit Beast Battle Division from poultry][Reward: +1 SP, +2 Sect Prestige]

"Finally," he said, tapping into the point.

[1 SP Used][Skill Upgraded: Flame Puppet Control → Flame Battalion Control - Lv1][Effect: Can now simultaneously command up to 5 Flame Constructs for 15 minutes daily.]

"Now that's useful."

His chamber flickered with reddish light as four new flame constructs emerged, all in slightly different shapes. One wielded dual sabers. Another had a shield. The third looked like a miniature siege cannon.

The fourth had... a mop.

"...Why?"

[System Response][Balance. One must maintain inner peace while incinerating enemies.]

Jin Zhen sighed. "This sect is cursed with madness."

"No, Sect Master," said the mop-wielding puppet with a bow. "This sect is blessed with imagination."

Jin Zhen rubbed his temples. "Lan Yuer, remind me to invest in puppet emotional regulation."

Outside, under starlit sky and the ever-flapping wings of poultry patrols, the Crimson Sect thrived in its own chaotic rhythm—an odd mixture of fire, feathers, and ambition.

And somewhere out there, rival sects trembled at rumors of a madman who bred war chickens.