Chapter Thirty-Four: Fang Yige, the Four-Spirit Array Master

Outside the city!

“Hoo, hoo—”
Thunderous snores echoed through the night. Fang Yuan lay sprawled out, limbs askew, while the unremarkable young man beside him could only shake his head in resignation.
Such a fearless heart—how could anyone sleep soundly in such circumstances?

He idly poked at the fire before him. Across the flames sat another young man, his face starkly pale in the firelight.
Escape had never crossed his mind.
The adversary had managed to spirit him and another out of the city, right under the nose of the Bow Saint, without anyone noticing. He had no confidence at all in his ability to run.

“Don’t be afraid. I’m not one to devour you.”
Fang Yige’s face bore a warm smile as he turned whatever was roasting in the fire.
“Tell me, can you contact other Blood Servants? If you could reach the Blood Clan, that would be even better.”

“What... what do you want?”
Allen swallowed nervously.

“There’s no harm in telling you.”
Fang Yige sat carelessly, his manner even more nonchalant as he spoke.
“I’ve heard there’s a treasure vault in this city, filled with fine things. I’d like to take a look inside.”

“A treasure vault?”
Allen’s eyes widened at the words.
“You’re after the vault?”

“Mhm!”
Fang Yige used a stick to prod the contents of the fire, then, unconcerned about the heat, peeled the skin away and bit into it.
“Those fellows feast on meat and wine within the city, while pitiful me is left to gnaw on sweet potatoes out here!”

“I can only reach the priest. And even then, I can’t guarantee the message will get through...”
Allen licked his lips.

“Do you want one?”
Fang Yige raised the sweet potato in his hand.

Allen hurriedly shook his head, hugging his knees as his body trembled.
His blood thirst was acting up—the price of becoming a Blood Servant. Only by ascending to a true Blood Slave could he be freed from this affliction.

Fang Yige ignored him, quickly finishing one sweet potato before pulling another from the embers.

“Give me one too!”
A gruff voice rang out from nearby.

A figure limped over, one leg dragging.
“Brother, chance encounters are better than formal invitations. How about sharing a meal of sweet potatoes?”

“I wouldn’t call this a chance encounter.”
Fang Yige grinned, tossing him a sweet potato.

“Oh?”
Wang Tian looked puzzled.

“I’ve been waiting for you here for quite a while!”

Fang Yige’s smile was bright and easy.
“I knew you’d be hungry, so I roasted a few extra. Sit, have some.”

“Who are you?”
Wang Tian’s body tensed, ready for combat at any moment.

“No need to be so nervous.”
Fang Yige remained utterly relaxed.
“If I hadn’t helped you just now, that arrow would have been aimed at your head, not your backside. You wouldn’t have died, but injury is inevitable, and escaping the blockade after would have been much harder. You should be thanking me!”

“You changed the trajectory of that arrow?”
Wang Tian had wondered—the fatal strike had ended up lodged in his rear.
Undignified and painful, yes, but the wound was minor.

“Let me introduce myself. I am Fang Yige. Perhaps you haven’t heard of me, but I prefer to be known as the Four Spirits Array Master!”

Fang Yige declared his name.

“The Four Spirits Array Master?”
Hearing this, Wang Tian instinctively stepped back.
The reputation of that name was formidable.
Once an Array Master set up their formation, few could do anything about it.

“You managed to predict my movements?”

“I guessed.”
Fang Yige replied unhurriedly.
“Watching your route, and factoring in the possibilities, it wasn’t hard to deduce you’d pass through here. I just didn’t expect you’d take so long.”

Wang Tian said nothing—was it because he’d spent time tending to his wounded backside?

“Him...”
Seeing Fang Yuan asleep, Wang Tian was even more surprised.

“That fellow was too noisy, so I knocked him out on the way.”
Fang Yige’s casual admission made Wang Tian even more cautious.
He’d already witnessed the opponent’s strength and knew he was no match.

Seeing his expression, Fang Yige understood the misunderstanding but didn’t bother explaining.
In truth, Fang Yuan had depleted his strength through a second transformation and then tangled with Tolelia’s arrows, which allowed Fang Yige to catch him off guard. Otherwise, it would not have been so easy.

“Why are you waiting for me?”
Wang Tian’s heart was uneasy, uncertain of Fang Yige’s intentions.

“You received that mission, didn’t you?”
Instead of answering, Fang Yige shifted the topic abruptly.

“Hm?”
Wang Tian immediately grew wary, watching him cautiously.

“Let me put it this way—our goals are aligned. We both need to enter the vault. But we’re short-handed. Would you like to join us?”

Fang Yige didn’t beat around the bush; it was best to be direct with someone like Wang Tian.

“‘Us’?”

Frustrated by days of delay, Wang Tian couldn’t help but ask,
“Who’s involved?”

“Here, the big fellow beside me, Sword Song, Wang Junfeng, four Holy Knights from the Paladin Order, and the Sword Master is on his way. Not a bad lineup, I’d say.”

Fang Yige listed the members.

Wang Tian considered the team—not a weak one by any means—so he nodded.
“Let’s do it.”
After all, it was just a temporary alliance. If things turned sour, he’d just walk away.

“So what now? Do we head out?”

“No rush, we still need to wait.”
Fang Yige smiled.
“With our current strength, it’s not enough. You saw that woman’s power yourself.”

“Hmph!”
Wang Tian’s face darkened, and his backside seemed to ache anew.
“If my abilities weren’t sealed, I’d smash her in a heartbeat.”

Fang Yige chuckled, unconcerned.
Even in his prime, he wasn’t confident in facing her directly, let alone Wang Tian.
It wasn’t that he looked down on Wang Tian, but their martial path was naturally countered by her—he couldn’t even get close, so how could he fight?

“Who are we waiting for?”
Wang Tian was curious.

Fang Yige glanced at Allen, who trembled violently, but said nothing.

“The presence backing this fellow?”

“Mm.”
Fang Yige nodded.
“Little brother’s lips are sealed, but fortunately I have some tricks.”

“Don’t even think about it. I won’t tell!”
Allen suddenly grew defiant, a trace of blood at the corner of his mouth.

“Biting your tongue to end your life? Was it necessary?”
Fang Yige smiled.
“I’ve already used your hand to inform those behind you. Whether you live or not makes no difference. Heaven cherishes life; I wanted to spare you, but fate cycles endlessly. Some things cannot be escaped—such is destiny.”

“Mm... mm...”
Allen’s eyes blazed with fury, but his blood thirst, combined with heavy blood loss, overwhelmed him. His vitality faded, and he collapsed to the ground.

“What a pity!”
Fang Yige sighed.
As a cultivator, needless killing was never his preference.
Having achieved his aim, he had intended to let the man live, only to be surprised that the timid Allen would, for the sake of secrecy, choose such a resolute end.