Chapter Eight: Journey to the Northern Territory

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Heavenly Martial Sect, Main Hall.

"Disciple Ye Huang pays his respects to Elder Luo," Ye Huang said, looking at the stunning woman in a red robe standing before him.

"Let her explain it to you," Luo Qingli said, picking up a teapot. A woman appeared from her side, and Ye Huang stared at her, dazed.

Liu Xinyue said with a worried expression, "Ye Huang, I will be brief. You know that the Lower Five Regions are divided into the Eastern Profound Region, Southern Barbarian Region, Western Sea Region, Northern Region, and the mysterious and unpredictable Demon Region."

"The Northern Region is the core of the Lower Five Regions. Recently, the Demon Region has been ravaging the North. The Northern Region has requested the Heavenly Martial Sect to send disciples to assist. Most of our core inner disciples have already been dispatched."

"The Master will lead the team in person in a few days. You just need to follow along; there is no need for you to fight. Upon your return, the contribution points from this trip will promote you directly to a core inner disciple. If you feel it is too dangerous, you don't have to force it. The choice is yours."

Ye Huang’s long hair fluttered as he said nonchalantly, "I'm going!" He took a step as if to leave immediately.

Liu Xinyue was startled and quickly grabbed his hand. "You agreed so quickly—aren't you afraid of a trap?"

Ye Huang turned back and smiled. "I trust that my wife wouldn't deceive me."

"You..." Liu Xinyue’s face turned crimson, looking just like a shy young girl.

"Ahem... ahem. Do you two think I don't exist?" Luo Qingli set down her teacup and said softly, "Very well, then it is decided. Go and prepare; I will have someone notify you in a few days."

...

Song Residence.

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"Father, I heard Elder Luo is preparing to depart," said the youth with the folding fan, bowing.

"You are well-informed," said the elderly man sitting at the head of the table, his eyes sinister and his presence radiating indisputable authority.

"Father, I want to go too!" The youth with the folding fan knelt on the ground with a thud.

The old man glared at him and then spoke, "You want to kill Ye Huang?" Upon hearing this, the youth with the folding fan broke into a cold sweat.

The old man let out a long, heavy breath and said, "Have you forgotten that you and Uncle Song failed to finish him off just a few days ago? Are you not ashamed enough?"

"Father, this is different. Luo Qingli is indeed powerful, but she cannot protect him forever. Once we are outside the sect, it is hard to say who will emerge the victor!" Remembering that scene, the youth with the folding fan wished he could grind his teeth to dust.

"Enough. The Song family is affiliated with the Heavenly Martial Sect, and we have to make the trip anyway. This time, besides going with Uncle Song, I have called for a few more helpers. Changkong, do not fail again this time. The Song family cannot afford to lose any more face."

"Thank you, Father. This child understands." A flash of vicious murderous intent crossed Song Changkong’s eyes.

...

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

"I have finally reached the Transcendent Myriad Phenomenon realm!" Ye Huang stood amidst the heavenly thunder, constantly circulating the Heavenly Thunder Body Refining Technique. His flesh radiated a golden glow, appearing like an impenetrable wall.

"The Transcendent Myriad Phenomenon realm is truly formidable!" Ye Huang stomped his foot, stirring up waves a thousand feet high. A sword appeared in his hand—the entire blade exuded an aura of evil. As he channeled his profound energy into it, Ye Huang felt his blood boil and his sword intent rise to unprecedented heights.

He unleashed a strike, hacking at the chains of the Ancestral Dragon. The chains actually trembled. "If you were any stronger, you might have actually been able to shatter these chains of mine!" the Ancestral Dragon remarked teasingly.

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"Little Ancestor, the strength of these chains is simply terrifying. I thought I had reached a great height, yet I cannot make the slightest dent in them," Ye Huang said, rubbing his forehead with a bitter smile.

"Alright, I’m leaving." With a flick of his divine sense, Ye Huang returned to reality, just as someone arrived to inform him that it was time to depart.

"It seems this trip to the Northern Region is truly unavoidable." Ye Huang waved his hand, retracting the Blood Slaughter Sword into his dantian, and headed toward Elder Luo’s residence.

"Little one, if you are afraid now, you can still withdraw," Luo Qingli said with a playful chuckle.

Seeing the flying ships rising all around him, Ye Huang flatly refused. "I appreciate your kindness, Elder Luo, but it is unnecessary." As he spoke, he stepped onto a flying ship. Just then, he noticed a group of ships nearby marked with a large "Song" character. On one of them, the youth with the folding fan looked at Ye Huang and made a throat-slitting gesture.

Ye Huang thought to himself, "It seems this journey is destined not to be simple."

The flying ships set sail!

In just a few dozen days, they traveled over a hundred thousand miles. The journey was as calm as water until they reached a fortress on the edge of the Northern Region.

"Who goes there? Halt immediately!" The voice echoed across all the flying ships, clearly heard by every cultivator. A cultivator soared into the air to intercept them.

An elder from the flying ship flew out to negotiate. A moment later, as if the talks had broken down, the elder retreated in a flash.

"You are the seventh group to impersonate representatives of the Heavenly Martial Sect! Get out of here!" the intercepting cultivator shouted, his voice like a booming bell, showing no courtesy whatsoever.