Zong Shou gave a cold laugh. To resort to the dishonorable method of ambush and assassination, only to die because one’s skill was inferior—if the mentors of this Qi Xiao had any shred of dignity left, they shouldn't come seeking him out.

Yet, upon deeper reflection, the Divine Emperor had yet to appear in this age. All sixteen islands of the Five Continents in the Cloud Realm were locked in ceaseless bloodshed and strife. If someone displeased you, you could draw your blade; if you desired something, you simply seized it. The strong commanded everything; might made right. Beyond those so-called righteous Great Sects, who would bother with rules?

Only when the Divine Emperor unified the Ten Directions and established the codes of conduct would the martial cultivators and spirit masters of later generations find themselves constrained.

However, a Spirit Master of the Yang Return Realm from the Central Cloud Realm would not easily find a way to seek vengeance across the Eastern Lin Cloud Continent within a short time.

What troubled him more was precisely who had given the orders. The number of people who might have set up this ambush was vast.

Thinking it over, his very identity seemed to make him an enemy to all—

A bitter smile crept across his lips. Zong Shou dismissed the matter for the moment and looked up and down at Yin Yang. “How is your injury? How many died over there? Any survivors?”

His injuries were lighter than Xue’er’s, marked by over a dozen bloody gashes, some still weeping. But Yin Yang’s spirit was remarkably vigorous, as if nothing had happened.

Yin Yang, predictably, bypassed any mention of his own wounds, his brows tightly furrowed. “Twelve in total, all killed! They were zealots, concealing poison. Xue’er and I managed to capture three, but none survived. Moreover, one Secret Martial Master escaped; I couldn't catch up.”

Zong Shou sighed, though he hadn't held much hope when he asked. He then turned, carefully scanning the direction beyond the dense forest. “And what were our losses?”

Speaking of losses, Yin Yang’s two thick, prominent eyebrows nearly knotted into one. His face was laced with bitterness, and his speech remained terse and direct: “The losses were significant!”

It was only when Zong Shou, carried by Chu Xue, returned to the main road that he understood just how significant Yin Yang’s description of “significant losses” truly was.

Of the sixteen Cloud-Treading Colts, a full four had perished, and the rest had suffered at least minor injuries. It was fortunate that the horses had been running ahead, absorbing less of the initial shockwave.

And that Cloud-Flipping Carriage was utterly ruined, crushed into a massive earth crater on the ground.

However, the carriage was truly robust, worthy of being forged entirely from refined steel. At ten zhang long and weighing fifty thousand catties, it had been hurled thirty zhang high before crashing down. It hadn't completely disintegrated; only some of the steel plates on the body were warped.

One could only imagine the sheer sturdiness of this Cloud-Flipping Carriage.

Zong Shou felt a desperate urge to weep. In this era, each Cloud-Treading Colt was worth around one hundred thousand silver liang. And a Cloud-Flipping Carriage forged by a Spirit Craftsman couldn't be bought for even a million liang.

“To blast a five-thousand-pound iron behemoth thirty zhang into the air! How many Blasting Flame Talismans did these fellows use?”

Zong Shou first glanced at the massive crater beside him, situated in the middle of the road, spanning a circumference of fifty zhang. It was fortunate that the Spirit Array in the carriage’s undercarriage had absorbed the majority of the impact. Otherwise, the sheer shockwave alone would have been enough to kill both him and Yin Yang inside the carriage.

Naturally, they survived not because the attackers showed mercy. It was because if the Blasting Flame Talismans exceeded a certain number, or if higher-grade talismans were used, they would likely trigger an energy wave fluctuation. Chu Xue and Yin Yang, seated at the front, would certainly have sensed it.

The terrifying thought was that this might have just been a probe from their enemies. They likely just wanted to gauge what contingency Zong Weiran had, who stood behind him, and what reaction they would exhibit afterward.

If a Primordial Martial Cultivator or a Night Roaming Realm Spirit Master had struck personally, they would have simply waited for death in this battle today.

After circling his ruined Cloud-Flipping Carriage once more, Zong Shou finally breathed a sigh of relief.

The Spirit Array had not sustained major damage; it only required minor repairs to continue moving. At the very least, reaching Little Origin City shouldn't be an issue. The refined steel and craftsmen produced there would be sufficient to temporarily repair the carriage.

Immediately afterward, he felt a sharp pang of financial pain. The beast cores he carried were indeed dwindling. Fortunately, he had replenished a significant amount from Qi Xiao this time—totaling roughly fifty million silver liang in value.

And that Third-Tier Cold Nether Tiger—that soul beast alone was worth three times the value of the Cloud-Flipping Carriage.

This time, at least, he hadn't lost his entire shirt.

“Right!”

Zong Shou suddenly remembered something and turned around, resuming the conversation that had been interrupted. “Yin Yang, remember that my father once arranged a fiancée for me? The father of this woman is the City Lord of Profound Mountain City?”

Profound Mountain City, though called a city, was effectively a nation in itself. Built atop Mount Profound, it spanned fifty li in circumference.

All human towns, large and small, within a thousand li radius were subject to its jurisdiction, its influence stretching across three provinces. And its City Lord was of the Half-Demon lineage.

In Zong Shou’s memory, this person’s strength seemed second only to that of the Heavenly Gate Mountain, and he was known to be on extremely close terms with Zong Weiran.

Upon hearing this, Yin Yang’s expression grew dim, and he shook his head again. “My Lord, it’s best not to place any hope in Profound Mountain City. I hear that Princess of Profound Mountain City has always been opposed to this marriage. Recently, even her father and mother have adopted an ambiguous stance. The fact that they haven't inquired after the Young Lord for years should tell you enough—”

Zong Shou, however, felt an immense sense of relief wash over him. Even the losses from moments ago didn't sting as much.

What he detested most were these vague, messy entanglements.

※※※※

It took an hour to repair the Cloud-Flipping Carriage’s Spirit Array, and another while to clean up the traces of the battle here. When Yin Yang finally drove forward again, an hour and a half had passed.

Just as the wreckage of the carriage disappeared at the end of the road, two figures appeared, moving swiftly from a distance, one following the other.

One was middle-aged, the other a graceful young man. Their faces were obscured by the downpour, making them indistinct. Only the clear red palm prints on their left and right sides were visible.

“Just who laid this deadly trap?”

Carefully surveying the surroundings, Feng Xiao’s face showed deep contemplation. “It is pouring rain right now; the water element spiritual energy is at its peak. To blast out a pit this deep, they must have used at least fifty high-grade Blasting Flame Talismans—”

Looking at the surrounding trees and branches that had been snapped by sword qi and fist winds, Feng Xiao’s eyes narrowed slightly. “At least four Secret Martial Masters fought fiercely here for a quarter of an hour! Two of them died! Besides that, there should have been one Spirit Master as well!”

Zong Ling had long known Feng Xiao was experienced, but he still felt a sliver of surprise. Yet, the next moment, he let out a cold laugh. “Who the hell knows? Too many people want my cousin dead, and quite a few want to protect him. In any case, it certainly wasn't one of our people!”

Feng Xiao shook his head, his movements like a ghost, traversing into the dense woods. A quarter of an hour later, he emerged once more.

But his expression was somewhat pale. “The Spirit Master who struck has reached the peak of the Soul Observation Realm. If I’m not mistaken, this person is likely that Qi Xiao. In my estimation, this battle ended with a single, fatal sword thrust through the brain in under ten breaths!”

“Qi Xiao? I heard this man was close friends with Zong Yang in his past years. But this fellow also has some ties with people from Blazing Flame Mountain. It could be Blazing Flame Mountain framing us, or perhaps Zong Yang deliberately used this person's identity to confuse the trail—”

Zong Ling muttered to himself for a moment, then suddenly snapped back to awareness, grasping the true crux of Feng Xiao’s words. His expression shifted immediately.

“You just said, a single sword thrust through the brain in under ten breaths? The attacker was a Primordial expert? Aren’t the guardians who secretly protected my cousin all accounted for? Where did this person come from?”

Feng Xiao shook his head slightly. “I don’t know the exact situation! I only know that killing a Spirit Master in the Soul Observation Realm with a single sword strike is extremely difficult, even for a Primordial Martial Master. This scenario is quite bizarre! The strength around Zong Shou might exceed our imagination. If we are forced to intervene personally, we might need to bring in more people—”

His words were filled with deep doubt and uncertainty.

The upheaval beneath Pill Spirit Mountain, and the situation here today—all of it bred a profound unease.