A woman of striking presence, clad in coarse hempen cloth, stood with bare, pearlescent feet, aloof from all external support, perfectly poised amidst the clouds. She fixed the entire cohort of the School of Strategists with a cold glare, her tone dripping with disdain.

"Halt! What sect's junior are you? Cease meddling and withdraw at once!"

Zhang Qi frowned slightly. This woman had mastered her own method of cloud-treading; she was certainly no weakling. He wished to avoid complications, desiring only that the bystanders clear the area swiftly so he could finish dealing with Feng Zikang.

Feng Zikang offered a faint smile, remaining silent. From her attire, he managed to glean a hint of her background. The more aggressive Zhang Qi became, the less likely this woman was to retreat; she seemed determined to involve herself.

As expected, the woman turned serious. "If there are grievances, a fair duel should suffice. If that young brother here is truly a villain of the greatest magnitude, you should announce his crimes to the world—you cannot simply rely on the mob to oppress the few."

She crossed her arms before her chest, pivoting gracefully to land directly in front of Feng Zikang, clearly intent on seeing this affair through.

"Eldest Senior Brother, stop wasting time with this little jade doll; let's take them both down!"

The Strategist disciples, already taxed from maintaining their formation, grew irritated by the sudden interference and prepared to attack simultaneously. Zhang Qi gritted his teeth, hardening his resolve, and with a sweeping gesture of both hands, unleashed nineteen iterations of the Strategist Formation, encircling the pair entirely.

"Kill them both! Leave no loose ends!"

The Strategist disciples roared their assent, and the formation ignited. A vast expanse of black and white energy surged forth, transforming the world into a colossal Go board—nineteen intersecting lines, totaling three hundred and sixty-one intersections. Feng Zikang and the woman found themselves positioned precisely on the Hoshi point in the upper left corner and a Komoku point, respectively.

The remaining eighteen disciples vanished from sight. Only Zhang Qi remained, standing aloof at the Tengen point at the center of the board, a cold smirk fixed on his face.

"Very well! You truly are villains! You mean to slay even a mere passerby like myself? Such wanton murder is unforgivable!"

The woman erupted in fury, turning back to nod reassuringly at Feng Zikang. "Young brother, do not be afraid. I am Mo Fenghuang, a disciple of the Mohist School from Linzi. I came to assist you, and I certainly won't let these villains succeed!"

Indeed, she possessed the righteousness characteristic of the Mohists. One could tell by her hempen garb and bare feet.

Feng Zikang observed her features; she was quite delicate, appearing no older than sixteen or seventeen, yet she carried an imposing authority, perfectly embodying the Power and Compassion central to the Mohist doctrine. She seemed much like an elder sister.

The title "Mo Fenghuang" was unusual. Although Feng Zikang possessed the body of a fifteen-year-old, his aura was notable; most people would not dismiss him as an ordinary youth. Even Mo Li, a Mohist of a more advanced age whom he encountered previously, had addressed him as a fellow Daoist.

"Young brother, this formation holds many subtle secrets. In my assessment, every single grid contains nineteen variations encompassing Yin and Yang, the Nine Palaces, and the Eight Trigrams. Danger lurks in every shift, unpredictable and volatile. Remain here for now; I shall advance and investigate first!"

The Mohist disciples prioritize others before themselves. Mo Fenghuang had not bothered to inquire about his background; she simply saw an injustice and stepped forward to help. Now caught within the array, she insisted on testing its defenses herself.

Since the Mohists were masters of mechanisms and formations, rivaling even the School of Military strategists, letting her take the initial risk seemed acceptable.

"Summon the Primal Wood Automata!"

Mo Fenghuang's hands moved in a sweeping, dance-like motion. As her fingers flickered, more than a dozen wooden automata rose from the ethereal sea of clouds, roaring in unison with impressive momentum.

"Probe!"

She snapped her fingers, issuing the command.

The automata dispersed instantly, surging toward the surrounding grids.

"Pfft!"

The first automaton managed two steps toward a corner before a bolt of lightning fire struck it from above, reducing it to ash. Immediately afterward, others were drowned by water, incinerated by fire, or sliced into fine splinters by unseen sharp edges. The one that traveled farthest made it over ten spaces—still seven or eight from Zhang Qi—before plunging into a mire, bubbling and sinking beneath the surface.

"Mohist mechanical arts? You are one of the Mohists…" Zhang Qi finally recognized the technique, his face paling, yet he waved his hand fiercely. "Since you chose to involve yourself, you cannot blame what happens next! Automata are nothing against the ever-shifting power of my Nineteen Lines Formation. Do not think you can map its intricacies! You both can simply close your eyes and await death!"

Bringing the Mohist School into this conflict meant there could be no retreat. He would either succeed or fail utterly; having trapped both of them, killing them would be easy. If his disciples shared in this act, their loyalty would only deepen, ensuring that among the three generations of Strategists, Zhang Qi alone would hold supreme authority!

Mo Fenghuang’s expression grew solemn, though she did not seem concerned by the loss of her automata. Feng Zikang, however, felt a pang of regret. Though the Primal Wood Automata lacked true destructive power, their materials and craftsmanship commanded a high price; what a waste.

"This array is potent, young brother, be careful! I will exert myself, charging directly toward the Tengen to disrupt the formation. You must use this chance to escape; do not linger in battle!"

Feng Zikang remained silent. These Mohists—even toward strangers—were so warm-hearted, always ready to sacrifice themselves for others. Now Mo Fenghuang risked her own safety to free him. It reminded him of when he and Mo Li encountered Wu Lingzi in the Southern Frontier; facing the Soul-Searching Great Technique of the Nine Nethers and Ten Hells, Mo Li chose to risk her life to shove him, Feng Zikang, clear of the encirclement. They were, perhaps, excessively good-natured.

He wondered how the Mohist School had survived a millennium without dying out—was it truly because Heaven blessed the benevolent?

As Feng Zikang wryly contemplated this, Mo Fenghuang let out a sharp cry. She clasped her hands together, and a black speck appeared far in the sky, flying toward them. Its wings flapped once, and it pierced the barrier of the Nineteen Lines Formation as easily as breaking through silk.

"This... what is that?"

A Mechanical Beast!

Feng Zikang gasped in shock. The large black bird flying closer possessed a fleshy comb on its head and three long plumes trailing from its tail. Though entirely black, it possessed an extraordinary presence. Upon closer inspection, he realized it was not a living creature but a mechanism!

Could this Mo Fenghuang actually command a Mechanical Beast? Had she already achieved the Foundation Establishment stage?

Feng Zikang scrutinized her again, still feeling her cultivation level was somewhere around the Seventh or Eighth Layer of Qi Induction, nowhere near a true Foundation Establishment expert. How could this be?

Zhang Qi was equally stunned. While his Nineteen Lines Formation was infinitely powerful, the sect’s ultimate defensive array, its efficacy still depended on the strength of those setting it up. The disciples he brought were mostly at the Fifth or Sixth Layer of Qi Induction. He had intended this array to be more than enough to handle a slightly unusual mid-Qi Induction disciple, but now he had apparently provoked a Foundation Establishment master!

The black bird landed beside Mo Fenghuang, affectionately rubbing its head against her arm.

"I see now…"

Feng Zikang nodded, and Zhang Qi, understanding the situation as well, burst into loud laughter.

"It’s just a Spirit-Linked Mechanical Beast, and it's affectionate toward you—what good does that do?"