Chapter 58: Ning Zhuo vs. Yuan Dasheng

Yuan Yi said, “Don’t worry, I’m human, I eat little by nature and rarely feel hungry.” Then he smiled again, “You’re my brother, after all. Thank you for looking out for me before. In the future, those Beggar Sect people might bully me again, but I can’t let you go hungry!”

Yet the ape opened its mouth, spat out the food it had been chewing, placed it in its palm, and offered it to Yuan Yi.

Yuan Yi waved his hand, “No, no.” But his Adam’s apple bobbed involuntarily.

The ape was insistent. It stepped forward, brought its palm to Yuan Yi’s mouth, and called out.

“Heh, then I won’t stand on ceremony.” Yuan Yi’s eyes grew moist as he cradled the ape’s hand, bowed his head, and in a few bites finished the last handful of leftover food.

“Delicious! Truly delicious!” Yuan Yi exclaimed. Gaunt as a skeleton, his clothes ill-fitting and borrowed, his hair matted and face dirty—he looked every bit the human monkey.

The ape also chattered gleefully.

Man and ape, immersed in happiness.

“Uncle Dasheng, Uncle Dasheng…” At last, Yuan Er’s voice called the ape back to wakefulness.

As it opened its eyes, the ape almost mistook Yuan Er for its old master—the father and son resembled each other so closely.

Its vision clearing, the ape’s nose twitched, and its brow furrowed. It smelled something foul.

Yuan Er swallowed nervously and hurried to explain.

The ape listened only halfway before rising and walking out of the tent.

Over ten feet tall, it was as robust and mighty as a war elephant. The scars all over its body were its medals, proof of countless battles.

“Greetings, Lord Monkey!” The elders bowed in unison.

The ape ignored them, its gaze fixed only on the many monkey corpses on the ground. After a brief silence, it suddenly threw back its head and roared in fury.

The roar was deafening, the wave of sound flattening many elders.

Yuan Dasheng’s eyes reddened, truly enraged.

Not one elder wasn’t drenched in cold sweat.

Yuan Er lingered at the back, satisfied to see the elders so cowed.

He seized the moment and hurried over: “Uncle Monkey, such a calamity has befallen us—we will find the culprit and see justice done!”

Yuan Dasheng slowly quieted, looking down at Yuan Er. The familiarity of the youth’s face soothed him.

He gently extended a finger and tapped Yuan Er’s chest.

Yuan Er’s heart pounded wildly. He stepped back and nodded repeatedly, “Uncle Monkey, trust me, you won’t be disappointed!”

“But for now, the sect faces a grave crisis. We must give our best performance at the Fire Persimmon Festival.”

“We’re desperately short-handed. Only you can carry us through.”

“Please, conserve your strength. You are our pillar!”

Yuan Dasheng said nothing, turned, and walked back into the tent, vanishing from sight.

Yuan Er looked at the fallen elders and allowed himself a faint smile. With a flick of his sleeve, he said, “You may rise.”

From then on, every command he issued was met with compliance.

Once he left, the elders began to mutter among themselves.

“Yuan Er’s only relying on the monkey’s influence. Does he have a shred of a leader’s bearing?” one sneered.

“At least Lord Monkey didn’t slaughter anyone. His temper’s cooled.”

“What, you’d rather he went on a rampage?”

“I wonder if he’s simply grown old, lost his edge, and is only putting on a strong front?” mused an ambitious elder.

The oldest elder snorted inwardly at this and walked away. The others hadn’t seen it, but he had witnessed Yuan Dasheng’s combat prowess firsthand during an expedition to the Crimson Blaze Demon Forge.

“The power of that Fire Serpent was nearly on par with a half-step Gold Core…”

“But in the end, Yuan Dasheng tore it apart…”

“Though he’s aged, Yuan Dasheng’s strength is terrifying. He’s at least highly gifted, perhaps of the highest caliber.”

“His greatest regret, and our greatest fortune, is that he never learned a cultivation art.”

Birdsong sounded nearby.

Ning Zhuo was roused from his meditation and opened his eyes.

The racket was made by a mechanical parrot, a rod-shaped key inserted in its back.

The key controlled its calls, waking Ning Zhuo at the appointed time.

“About time,” Ning Zhuo muttered, then sensed the seal on his chest and sent his soul into the Immortal Palace.

He quickly assembled a puppet body and advanced through the trials.

Along the way, he noticed traces left by other challengers. Examining a surveillance device, he saw that Zhou Zhu and Zheng Jian had begun working together.

“They’re no threat in the short term.”

“The real key is Yuan Dasheng—even Meng Chong is secondary.”

Ning Zhuo pressed on.

He now mastered more than twenty spells, each with practiced ease; so long as his spiritual power held, these trials were effortless.

Once he could advance no further, he retreated, stopping behind Room Eight to wait patiently.

Soon, the door was flung open and a massive puppet ape squeezed inside.

“It’s here,” Ning Zhuo thought, rising to face it.

Their gazes met. Yuan Dasheng instantly realized this was no ordinary mechanical opponent.

After scrutinizing Ning Zhuo’s puppet form, Yuan Dasheng swept his gaze across the room, recalling the obvious traps and speculating about hidden ones.

“It seems he’s mistaken me for the gatekeeper puppet, like those martial puppets before,” Ning Zhuo noted inwardly.

This was precisely the impression he intended to create.

The ranking board and his assumed name played a crucial role, making Yuan Dasheng believe he alone was braving the Immortal Palace.

After a moment’s observation, Yuan Dasheng began the trial.

Ning Zhuo struck immediately.

Spell—Embrace of Ice.

Mechanical device—Flying Hand.

Spell—Gust of Qi.

Device—Airflow Ring.

A mechanical arm shot toward Yuan Dasheng, a chill emanating from its palm.

The freezing air was only lethal upon contact, but the Airflow Ring spun ahead, and a gust of wind swept the cold outward.

A fan-shaped wave of frost spread instantly.

Yuan Dasheng dodged; though he avoided most of it, his left leg was rimed with ice.

A fierce light blazed in Yuan Dasheng’s eyes!

A spellcasting puppet—this was a first.

Without hesitation, Yuan Dasheng charged, a force of nature bearing down on Ning Zhuo.

Ning Zhuo leapt lightly, channeling the Gust of Qi spell through the Airflow Rings on his ankles, blasting himself backward.

He opened the distance, attacking as he retreated.

Dozens of flying hands assailed Yuan Dasheng; Embrace of Ice, Grip of Flame, Gold-Seizing Art, Wood-Gathering Art—all became mid- to long-range assaults under the gust’s power.

Yuan Dasheng shrank his massive form, using both arms as shields to protect his face, smashing through every spell, ignoring all but Ning Zhuo.

It was the perfect tactic!

But it could not save him from defeat.

Moments later, Yuan Dasheng’s puppet body collapsed—some parts burned, others frozen, some tangled in rampant wood, forming insurmountable barriers…

Before he fell, Yuan Dasheng threw back his head and roared, a sound full of unwillingness, resentment, and helplessness.

Stifling—utterly stifling.

This was nowhere near his true strength!

“It’s blocked.” Ning Zhuo breathed a silent sigh of relief.

The traps he’d set were nearly useless against Yuan Dasheng. Only by taking matters into his own hands could he halt that giant’s advance.