Feng Zikang possessed the Divine Sense of the Heavenly Demons. The affairs of the world unfolded before him, yet this particular situation remained utterly opaque.
It clearly appeared as if the nameless iron sword was consuming the sword spirit, restoring itself!
A sword may possess a spirit, but how could it behave in such a manner?
Feng Zikang gently stroked the nameless iron sword, sensing its changes with his mind, but gained nothing. His curiosity and suspicion toward this weapon once wielded by General Lu intensified.
The spirit of the Moon-Slaying Demon Sword was lost; now, save for its somewhat peculiar material, it was no different from an ordinary weapon.
Feng Zikang felt a slight pang of heartache. This had originally been a Yellow-rank, Sixth-grade magical armament! It was the finest item he possessed, endowed with an exceptional divine ability, yet now it was completely stripped bare.
Most infuriatingly, the iron sword that had swallowed the spirit showed no discernible extraordinary quality afterward, much like someone who had swallowed something whole—it merely let out a satisfied burp and offered no further reaction.
Feng Zikang picked up the Moon-Slaying Demon Sword. Its material was neither gold nor iron; for the moment, he couldn't identify it. With a sigh, he casually tucked it into his storage pouch.
He had not anticipated such a transformation, yet the iron sword’s strangeness sparked a faint sense of expectation within him.
His master, Ye Tiansheng, had once said that this iron sword had fallen to this state only because its sword heart was shattered and its body broken. Previously, it had been a legendary divine sword. If it could gradually recover by devouring sword spirits, was there hope for it to regain its former prestige?
This matter could wait until his master emerged from seclusion before inquiring further. For now, he needed to attend to the two banners he had acquired.
The black banner was obtained from Liang Si'an, while the Pagoda-Bearing Heavenly King Banner came from Dashan, the senior disciple of Wuduya. Feng Zikang ignored the earth-shattering sounds of battle outside the camp and focused intently, separating his hands to conjure a plume of azure-purple flame.
This fire was different from both Heavenly Fire and Earth Fire; it was Human Fire.
The descendants of the military arts refined their bodies by drawing upon the Qi of Slaughter. Their killing intent was fierce and violent, and this fire was the heart-fire born from that very killing aura.
In terms of power, it was no less potent than Heavenly Fire or Earth Fire. However, as Feng Zikang had only recently condensed this heart-fire, it remained in the True Fire realm, possessing little immediate destructive capability against foes. But for refining the impurities from the banners, as long as he was willing to slowly grind away at it, it would suffice.
He unfurled both banners, suspending them in the air, and uttered a soft cry. The azure-purple heart-fire split in two, igniting both banners, which began to crackle and burn.
The celestial image within the Pagoda-Bearing Heavenly King Banner suddenly blazed forth, its radiance momentarily blinding, filling the entire room with light.
Meanwhile, the black banner, which originally bore no image, faintly revealed a figure of a demon king outlined in black lines under the coercion of the True Fire. It was bizarre and inscrutable. The Heavenly King’s image already illuminated the entire tent, yet this demon king outline remained pitch black, making it even stranger.
“Hmph!”
Dissatisfied with the slow speed of impurity burning, Feng Zikang snorted and expelled two more plumes of fire, directing them at the Heavenly King and the Demon King figures, respectively. Upon contact, the flames intensified. The original shapes of the banners became increasingly indistinct; only these two images remained suspended in the air.
“Collect!”
Seeing the refining nearly complete, Feng Zikang sucked forcefully, drawing the flames back into his abdomen. With two distinct pats, two objects fell from the air onto the ground.
Two pieces of cloth, each the size of a palm!
One held the visage of the Heavenly King, solemn and majestic, far more lifelike than when it was on the banner.
The other was the image of a demonic god, grotesque and terrifying, inspiring awe at the sight.
Feng Zikang beckoned, and both pieces of cloth flew into his hands. The moment they touched him, he felt countless streams of information flood his mind: within the Thirty-Three Heavens, demons danced wildly while myriad gods sat in meditation; all things in heaven and earth underwent birth, old age, sickness, and death in endless reincarnation, like an incomparably vast scroll painting.
“This… what are these things?”
Feng Zikang was profoundly startled. He clearly sensed that the cloth pieces in his hands were but minuscule existences within this grand scroll of heaven and earth. These two pieces alone represented less than one trillionth of the entire picture, yet he could feel the immense power they contained.
How vast, then, must this realm of heaven and earth be? Was it some kind of supreme treasure, or was it genuine reality?
His heart shook violently, and he stood in stunned silence for a long time, oblivious to the fact that the sounds of battle outside the door had gradually subsided. The sky darkened, and only the faint echoes of weeping and cries of pain could be heard, punctuated occasionally by curses.
“Martial Uncle! Martial Uncle! Are you in there?”
Suddenly, Luo Kedi’s anxious shout echoed from outside the tent.
Feng Zikang snapped back to reality, slightly bewildered. The overall situation was decided; the Southern Barbarians were surely quelled. Why was Luo Kedi so panicked?
“Come in!”
He called out, and Luo Kedi rushed in hurriedly. His silver armor bore specks of blood, clearly indicating he had just returned from the battlefield and hadn't had time to change his attire.
“Martial Uncle! This time, you must save my life!”
His face was deeply alarmed, completely lacking the composed bearing and the aura of the young general on his white steed with a silver spear that he usually maintained.
“The Military Governor Wu’s daughter… was captured by a Nine-Tailed Fox Demon!”
Feng Zikang froze.
A Nine-Tailed Fox Demon?
This creature was a legendary spiritual being. Foxes are inherently intelligent and are the most capable among all beasts in cultivating immortality. Legend holds that a fox grows an extra tail every hundred years. By nine hundred years, it possesses nine tails, making it the most spiritual of foxes. If it survives a full millennium, it can pass the human tribulation and transform into a human.
A Nine-Tailed Fox alone possesses at least the cultivation of the Core Condensation stage. Why would it inexplicably seize the Military Governor Wu’s daughter?
Once possessing nine tails, it no longer needs to absorb essence to cultivate Yin and Yang unions. What was its purpose?
Luo Kedi was anxious, but his account remained relatively orderly.
It turned out that half a day ago, shortly after Feng Zikang slew Wuduya, Miss Wu was playing in the garden when a pure white Nine-Tailed Fox descended from the sky. Without a word, it snatched her away. Her family pursued but could not catch up, watching helplessly as the creature vanished into the horizon.
Madam Wu wept inconsolably upon hearing the news. Ignoring the fact that her husband was fighting on the front lines, she smashed a hereditary communication jade pendant to inform him.
Wu Ji was equally at a loss upon hearing the news. At that moment, Luo Kedi returned from slaying the Black Mountain Cave Master, Xiao Mu’an, to report his success. Upon hearing of the abduction, he was consumed with worry and rushed to seek his Martial Uncle’s assistance.
He was unaware of the Nine-Tailed Fox’s might and believed that Feng Zikang, with his profound cultivation, could certainly rescue the young lady.
“Hmm…”
Feng Zikang deliberated in silence. He was well aware of the Nine-Tailed Fox’s formidable power and certainly had no intention of seeking trouble by confronting it head-on. The disparity in strength was too obvious; there was no point in courting abuse.
Furthermore, the Fox Demon’s motive for kidnapping her remained unclear, and he had no need to wade into this murky water.
“Go tell the Governor not to worry! Since fate has brought us to meet, I naturally will not stand idly by. I will investigate the situation shortly and do my utmost to rescue Miss Wu!”
Though thinking this, he readily agreed.
Luo Kedi was overjoyed and kowtowed his thanks, his admiration for his righteous Martial Uncle growing deeper, which made Feng Zikang a little uncomfortable.
His task here was concluded, and he might as well use this incident as an excuse to take his leave and return to the mountain to claim merit.
Feng Zikang straightened his armor, preparing to depart, when he suddenly heard the sounds of clashing and fighting overhead once more.
“Leng Jinchan! You are truly heartless!”
A sharp reprimand followed, the voice unmistakably belonging to Mo Li, the Mohist disciple who had gone to the Southern Barbarian lands a few days prior to persuade them to surrender!