Chapter Forty-Two: The Awakening of the Martial Spirit

When Ye Zihan heard that voice in his mind, he instantly reverted to his former cold indifference. He merely responded with a faint “oh” and paid no further attention to the voice that claimed to be the spirit of the weapon.

“Master, how could you have fallen so low?” The weapon spirit spoke again, a faint note of reproach in its tone.

“Fallen? Have I really?” Ye Zihan was unaware of his own appearance at that moment: clothes in tatters, hair a tangled mess, stubble shadowing his chin. At his age, his complexion should be fair and clean, yet he’d let himself become a disheveled, middle-aged man.

“Master! You must not give up now. The Red Flame and Blue Rain you created are not truly dead.”

“What? You mean Master Red Flame and Master Blue Rain aren’t dead?” Nothing could have lifted Ye Zihan’s spirits more than this news. He immediately pressed in his heart, “If Master Red Flame isn’t dead, where is he now?”

The weapon spirit’s voice drifted, “I cannot be certain of their whereabouts, but I can clearly sense that both still exist. The moment I awoke, I felt two lights, one red and one blue, rush into your body. It seems they now slumber within your soul.”

Ye Zihan checked at once and found, sure enough, the faint souls of Red Flame and Blue Rain lying quietly beside his own, their forms so ethereal that, without careful scrutiny, they would be invisible.

“What’s going on? Only a fragment of the soul remains!” Though he sensed their presence, their withered souls filled Ye Zihan with worry.

“They were always spirits to begin with. After their sacrificial battle, it’s already a blessing that a fragment could remain. But, Master, do not worry or give up. When you grow strong enough, there is a chance to bring Red Flame and Blue Rain back to life!”

With these words, Ye Zihan grew excited. His once-clouded eyes brightened, a spark of determination shining within. The faith he had lost returned, stronger than before.

“Yes! If my teachers’ souls remain, then there is hope. I can help them return! I cannot let myself sink into despair. I must pick myself up. I must climb to the pinnacle, seeking a way to revive my teachers!”

Ye Zihan declared resolutely. Hope still existed; his teachers weren’t gone! To bring them back, he would need great power.

Revitalized, Ye Zihan cast aside his former despondency and strode briskly out the door, just as Yan Chen arrived with a tray of food.

“Zihan, you’re finally willing to come out?” Yan Chen’s voice carried surprise and delight. He set the food on the table and continued, “You haven’t eaten in three days. You must be starving.”

From Ye Zihan’s determined gaze, Yan Chen could see that the confident Ye Zihan had returned. His bright, shining eyes were even more radiant than before.

Ye Zihan said little, only grunting in acknowledgment before devouring the food voraciously.

Only by growing stronger himself would he have a chance to revive his teachers. To become strong, he must first satisfy his hunger; only a full belly brings the strength to improve.

“These past days, thank you,” he said, mouth full, to Yan Chen, his gratitude unmistakable despite the muffled words.

“Oh, spare me the sentimentality. You’re making my skin crawl,” Yan Chen teased. “Judging by how hungry you are, I’ll fetch you more food.”

Night quietly descended. Silver moonlight spilled through the paper window, illuminating Ye Zihan as he sat cross-legged on the bed. He was still tending to minor injuries from the explosion three days before, focusing on his recovery.

The night passed in silence. At dawn the next day, Ye Zihan emerged from his meditation, and the first thing he asked in his mind was, “Weapon spirit, how did you awaken?”

That clear, childlike voice answered, “Master, it was your rage that stirred me. When you recognized me with your blood, my consciousness was born, but it remained dormant. The day you cried out in anguish, your fury and grief roused me.”

When a weapon forms a spirit, it becomes a supreme artifact, a divine weapon with sentience. With such a weapon in hand, one could even slay enemies far above their level—just as a child with a blade that can slice through iron could best a butcher with a mere cleaver, if it came down to the sharpness of the weapon alone.

Ye Zihan was overjoyed at the weapon spirit’s awakening. Though the world was vast, weapons with true spirits were exceedingly rare—one could count them on their fingers. Now, possessing such a weapon would greatly aid his cultivation and growth.

“My teachers died by the hand of the Hall of Illusions. This blood debt must be repaid. Yet I am still weak; vengeance now would be futile. I must become stronger, and quickly.” Ye Zihan murmured to himself, finally resolving that, since the world was in tumult, with countless masters emerging and phenomena unseen in centuries, he would cultivate the Art of Illusions while challenging every expert he could find to hasten his progress.

Having decided, he acted at once. At dawn, he strode into Yan Chen’s room, where his friend was still groggy with sleep. “We missed the Five Elements Gathering, but those young geniuses should still be near. I want to test myself against them, to gain insight and grow stronger.”

Yan Chen, rubbing sleep from his eyes, sensed Ye Zihan’s intent. He was never one for idleness, and upon hearing this, he grinned, “That’s exactly what I was thinking. Let’s go meet those young masters.”

Together, they headed to the Gathering of Heroes, which was already packed at daybreak. The tournament had ended the day before; today was for the various factions to report results and for prizes to be awarded.

Ye Zihan looked around, but, to his regret, found no sign of the Hall of Illusions. Bored, he listened to the announcements and then returned to the inn with Yan Chen.

The young experts were constantly accompanied by their elders, leaving Ye Zihan and Yan Chen no opportunity to approach. With little else to do, they returned to their inn.

“Zihan, where will you go next?” Yan Chen asked.

“I’ll travel the continent and strengthen myself!”

“Oh? Same as me? That’s perfect, then—we can journey together.”

It wasn’t until the next day, when it came time to settle the bill, that Ye Zihan realized the silver he’d gained from the Liu family was already gone. Yan Chen was just as broke. Pooling their resources, they barely managed to pay what they owed.

“We’ll need to earn some money first,” Yan Chen said, frustrated, hands tucked behind his head as he walked. Suddenly, an idea struck him. “Why don’t we try the Task Guild?”

“Task Guild?”

“It’s an organization that, rumor has it, spans the human, beast, and demon realms. They post all kinds of missions each day for cultivators to take on. Complete a task, and you get paid,” Yan Chen explained patiently. “There’s a handling fee, but we can scrape that together. Come on, let’s give it a try.”

With that, Yan Chen hurried Ye Zihan toward an area of Ten Directions City whose location he had already scouted.

Soon, they arrived at a large open plaza. Along one wall hung thousands of wooden plaques, each inscribed with a different task.

After paying the fee and verifying their credentials, the two received symbolic rings and entered the mission square.

“This square has three levels,” Yan Chen explained, scanning the listings. “The first is for those at or below the Three Talents rank. The second is for Four Symbols up to a certain level. Above that is Seven Stars to Nine Palaces. The higher the level, the harder the task—and the greater the reward. But tasks above Seven Stars are rare. At that point, who cares about missions anymore?”

Ye Zihan nodded in understanding, wandering the first area. Most here were young, few older than twenty-five or six. As he tried to enter the second area, they were stopped. “Excuse me, this is the second sector. Only those of Four Symbols rank or higher may enter. If you qualify, please show your ring.”

Looking at his copper ring, Ye Zihan realized this was a credential indicating which area he could access. Each ring was unique and required a drop of blood to bind, making forgery impossible.

Not that anyone would dare. The Task Guild’s backers were so powerful, with the involvement of every force in the three realms, that to falsify credentials was to court disaster. No one had ever dared challenge them so openly.

Just then, Yan Chen called Ye Zihan over. “This is a good one: head to the Lost Bamboo Grove, slay a hundred Scarlet Flame Serpents, and bring back their gallbladders for five hundred silver. Plus, other materials can be sold for a tidy sum.”

Scarlet Flame Serpents were third-tier beasts, equivalent to Three Talents cultivators—no trouble for the pair.

Yan Chen reached for the task, but someone else shoved Ye Zihan aside and snatched it first, barely glancing at the paper before declaring arrogantly, “We’re taking this task.”

Without giving Ye Zihan and Yan Chen a chance to respond, the man strode off to register the task, his companions trailing behind.

Yan Chen was about to protest, but Ye Zihan held him back. “Why stop me, Zihan? That bastard just ignored us and stole our task. How can we let that slide?”

Ye Zihan’s expression was grim as he shook his head. “Be patient. There will be a chance to settle the score. This isn’t the place to make a scene. Besides, there’s another Lost Bamboo Grove task—capture fifty Scarlet Flame Serpents alive for a thousand silver.”

This task was even harder. In battle, it was hard not to kill; capturing required restraint and skill. The higher reward was only fitting.

Hearing this, Yan Chen hesitated, then nodded. “Alright, let’s take this one. Capture, not kill.”

He tore down the task slip, a sly smile spreading across his face as he glanced at the man still registering at the counter, a cold gleam in his eyes.

That man’s arrogance had clearly enraged Yan Chen. Born of a noble family, he was humble but not to be bullied. With both tasks at the same location, it would be easy to follow and disrupt their rivals’ plans.

Ye Zihan’s eyes were equally cold as he stared at the swaggering figure’s back, his fists clenched. Under his breath, he murmured, “Ye Xiang, I didn’t expect we’d meet again so soon. Your arrogance hasn’t changed—if anything, you’re even more overbearing. This time, I’ll show you that the ‘worthless’ Ye Zihan you once scorned will not fall before you again!”