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    ~~~

    As the tens of disciples fire at the monsters, Huang Shing wishes he had bigger fists.

    None of his techniques have a long enough range to be useful right now. He cannot even charge at the enemy and trust in his cultivation to protect him. Being in the True Realm does not make him invulnerable. He might be able to take a few hits without damage, but there are too many enemies and too much power being thrown around. Eventually, he’ll make a mistake and suffer for it.

    It makes Qing Jin’s actions all the more reckless.

    Certainly, Qing Jin’s skillset is flexible enough to allow him to jump into the fray and lose himself amidst the horde. The less said about his sudden ability to explode monsters into dogs, the better. Qing Jin might be a skilled doctor, but that can no longer be called medicine any more than Qing Jin can be called normal.

    However, there has to be a limit.

    “He’s amazing,” Ten from the Armory says for what feels like the tenth time in as many minutes.

    Huang Shing does not blame him. Ten is far from the only one impressed. Even he cannot help but be in awe of what Qing Jin has accomplished. However, unlike everyone else, Huang Shing is in the same cultivation realm as Qing Jin. Though there are bound to be differences in the quality of their dantian, acupoints, and meridians, Huang Shing feels he has a fairly good grasp of just how much Qi Qing Jing has. That is why he is sure of one thing.

    Qing Jin is going to die at this rate.

    A muttered curse leaves his lips before he takes the elixir offered to him by one of the members of the Medical Pavilion. As he guzzles it down, he can feel the soreness in his muscles fading away and his dwindling energy recovering. As expected of Qing Jin’s work.

    How many elixirs and other such things has Qing Jin drunk so far?

    “You look like a man about to attempt something heroic,” Brother Hong says, walking up to stand side by side with him. “I know that look because I have worn it many times myself.”

    Bei Hong looks so serious and solemn as he speaks that Huang Shing breaks into a laugh.

    “Brother Hong, how would you know what your own expression looks like?”

    “A true man always knows.” Bei Hong grins and stands up even taller, either not caring or not feeling the many wounds under his bandages. “What sort of face do you think he is making?”

    There is no need for him to specify who he is talking about. They are both looking in the same direction.

    “If it were me, I’d probably be laughing,” Bei Hong keeps going. “But I don’t think I have ever seen that guy laugh.”

    “He does laugh,” Huang Shing says. Bei Hong waves his hand.

    “Those are weak laughs. They don’t count. That guy is strong but doesn’t know how to enjoy himself! It’s a waste!”

    “Brother Hong will have to show us how to enjoy ourselves then.”

    “Naturally, now let’s go and-”

    Dazzling gold flames come down from beyond the walls, and Bei Hong’s words are lost in their roar. The fire rushes through the battlefield with power and fury, effortlessly burning hundreds of the monsters that were giving them so much trouble. The sight brings relief to Huang Shing’s face, but only for the second it takes him to identify the Qi that accompanies the flames.

    Feng Zhi’s Qi.

    As if the very thought was enough to summon him, the Young Master of the Eternal Flame Clan appears in front of them. His golden eyes are blazing suns. His body is clad in fire and resplendent with power. The Feng Zhi right now feels like some old god that has stepped out of the stories.

    “Where is he?”

    Feng Zhi’s mouth moves, but his words are drowned out by the sound of his Qi. It is so violent he might as well be shouting in their ears. The heat emanating from him makes their every breath hurt, and his aura feels like it could crush them at any moment. The disciples near them, tired from all the fighting, are already buckling under the strain.

    Huang Shing is not weak enough to miss how tired Feng Zhi looks under the flames or how his potent Qi feels like it is about to be extinguished at any moment. All the same, he finds himself taking a step back.

    “He’s in the temple,” Huang Shing answers, already preparing himself for the worst. “Young Master, I understand you are angry with me, and I am willing to face that anger, but now is not… the… time?”

    Huang Shing trails off because Feng Zhi is no longer there. He took off as soon as Huang Shing revealed Feng Hao’s location. A trail of melted earth leads right into the temple.

    “That’s going to be troublesome.”

    Huang Shing nods before realizing he does not recognize to whom the voice belongs. Feng Zhi’s Qi had been so furious that it had demanded his full attention, making him miss anyone who might have come with him. As he looks up to the bearded face of a person whose cultivation exceeds his own and who does not feel like he is impossibly tired, Huang Shing starts thinking that might have been a mistake.

    “Are you the one in charge?” the tall, bearded man asks as though there wasn’t an army fighting behind him.

    “Impossible, Senior Brother Guo,” says a voice Huang Shing instantly recognizes as Brother Khong Hu’s. “He is from Lord Feng Shang’s faction.”

    Senior Brother Guo’s eyes narrow. “Is that so?”

    “Bah! As if that matters now,” Bei Hong says with irreverence Huang Shing can only envy. “If you want to settle grudges, wait until after the monsters are dealt with.”


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    “I intend to,” Senior Brother Guo says. “That’s why I want to speak with whoever is in charge.”

    “Ah, that’s Brother Qing Jin!” Huang Shing says.

    “Him?!” cries out a disciple Huang Shing finds familiar but can’t quite place.

    “I see.” Senior Brother Guo smiles. “And where might I find him?”

    “Over there,” Bei Hong answers, waving his hand towards the beasts.

    Khong Hu sighs and shakes his head. “Of course.”

    “It seems like much has happened.” Senior Brother Guo cracks his knuckles. “Very well then, I’ll go rescue my junior.”

    ~~~

    Three Core Disciples look at the battle from a fair distance away. They are so far away that they can no longer rely on their eyes. Instead, they keep track of what is happening through their ability to sense Qi.

    “Not bad.” Shi Qingxia whistles at the destruction wrought by Feng Zhi’s entrance. “The Young Master’s quite angry, isn’t he?”

    “They have Mou with them,” Ye Zheyu points out. “Should we extract him?”

    “There is no need,” Yong replies. Unlike them, he is not standing or even bothering to turn towards the battle. “He knows nothing, and he’s ultimately too loyal to Lord Feng Shang.”

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