Chapter 294 – Moonlake City (VIII)

Chapter 294

Moonlake City (VIII)

Over the three following days, I honestly felt like I was living right next to an airport–at any time of day or night, there’d be whizzing sounds shooting above us as yet another ‘more important than anyone else’ figure appeared in the city.

It was borderline abuse, though the abuse came with the realization that I couldn’t take my morning walks anymore–there were far too many fucking people. It was like being a sardine and being shoved into a tiny can.

As such, we mostly stayed in the house, cultivating, eating, and chatting.

I haven’t really spoken with the old woman since I handed her the art, though I occasionally felt her eyes on me just a touch too long.

Just as we were preparing to enjoy a nice, hearty meal–something I’m realizing I don’t know how I’ll live without going forward–the ground shook as a ballast of Qi swept through the surroundings.

It was beginning to feel like an earthquake before abruptly stopping; I don’t know who stopped it, but we all stood up and left the house, peeking out to see what happened.

About four hundred yards south of us, just next to the lake, we saw two figures doused in a myriad of Qi storms floating about a hundred yards up, screaming at each other. The only reason I knew they were screaming was because I could just barely discern their expressions through the stormy haze of Qi, and oh boy were they angry.

A mere breath later, the storms collided–winds swept up as the rooftops started rattling, though, by some miracle, none were uprooted. Jets of water from the lake shot up, aroused by the blasting of Qi, and the two men started unleashing an assortment of arts.

One on the left seemed to be using weapon arts–saber primarily, from what I could discern; the attacks were slow and deliberate but also destructive. On the opposite end, the other man used dagger arts–he did not so much cause the wind as he moved with it, bobbing and weaving between the destructive attacks the best he could.

They were both around the peak of the Revolving Core Realm, as evidenced by the fact that I could occasionally catch a glimpse of a spinning halo when they would commit to a greater attack.

I learned about this phenomenon a bit–the lesser the ‘quality’ of the core, the more visible it tends to be without special arts to hide it while fighting. As the system rewarded me with what I think might be one of the highest-quality cores, I’ve never actually seen it ‘appear’ when fighting or using arts.

I very much doubt people will outright assume I have a super rare core and will just assume I have some secret art to hide it.

The most shocking thing remained just how little the city was affected–sure, there were some trees that were ripped out from the outskirts, and the city received a nice, deep clean from the lake water, but none of the buildings were so much as chipped, let alone destroyed.

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“The fun bit,” Lao Shun said. “Is that nobody really knows why this is the case.”

“Hm?” I looked over at him. “It’s not a high-tier array?”

“It might be,” he shrugged. “But if it is, it’s one so high-tier that nobody has been able to locate it in thousands of years. It’s been here as far as the records go; whatever is built within the specific limit is protected from most external factors.”

“What are the limits?”

“What you’re seeing right now,” he said. “Anything outside this specific layout is not protected and gets destroyed.”

Well, you learn new things every day.

I turned toward Long Tao, but all I got was a shrug–but it wasn’t a knowing shrug.

… he didn’t know either.

Hm.

Okay.

That’s actually a bit worrying.

If he doesn’t know, either it’s so inconsequential it’s not worth knowing, or…