Ch. 209 - Richcloud City

The Imperial Jade in Ye Fan’s hand felt warm. He carefully stored it, glanced back at Profound Moon Grotto-Heaven, and vanished over the horizon. Returning to Sunset Clouds, he found no time for seclusion, Departing Fire Sect, Falling Glow Sect, and Seven Star Pavilion were restless, poised to strike.

Having just conquered Sunset Clouds, these sects wanted to snatch it away, which irritated him. “Departing Fire Sect requests an audience,” a Sunset Clouds disciple reported.

“Drive them out!” Ye Fan ordered, cutting off the three elders. “It’s Departing Fire’s Prime Descendant. Should we really…?” The disciples hesitated, looking to the elders.

“What’s so special about a Prime Descendant? Kick him out, say we’re not receiving,” Ye Fan said, waving dismissively.

“That’s… not ideal,” an elder said, rising. “Departing Fire is strong, no weaker than Profound Moon Grotto-Heaven.”

“Don’t tell me they’ve got old monsters like a Grand Patriarch too,” Ye Fan said, eyeing the elders.

One elder gave a bitter smile. “In fact, they have two, eight years ago, both were in the third level of the Dao Palace realm.”

“Two at once?” Ye Fan was speechless. He’d just deterred Profound Moon Grotto-Heaven, and now Departing Fire was a problem.

“Departing Fire’s Prime Descendant, Du Chengkun, requests an audience,” a voice echoed from the gate to Sunset Clouds' main peak.

“They think Sunset Clouds' weak, daring to disturb our peace,” the elders fumed. Such direct calls were disrespectful to any sect, following Li Youran’s example.

“They’ve sniffed out our weakness and have no fear,” Ye Fan sneered, then added curiously, “All your neighboring sects are so ambitious, with third-level Dao Palace experts. How has Sunset Clouds survived?”

“We had such an expert too,” an elder replied.

“What?” Ye Fan was shocked.

“He succumbed to cultivation deviation months ago and passed away,” the elder said with a helpless smile.

“Du Chengkun, Departing Fire’s Prime Descendant, requests an audience,” the voice came again, closer.

“Let him in,” Ye Fan said coldly, standing. “I’ll fetch a friend.” Moments later, he appeared as the unscrupulous priest Duan De.

The three elders exchanged glances, wanting to speak but holding back. Soon, Du Chengkun arrived at the main peak, flying up without climbing the steps, a blatant disrespect, as no visitor would fly within a strong sect.

At the peak, Du Chengkun offered a perfunctory bow. “Greetings, seniors. My master sent me with a letter to personally deliver to your Sect Master.”

“Our Sect Master is in seclusion. Leave the letter; we’ll pass it on,” an elder said sternly.

“That won’t do. It’s critical, and my master insisted I deliver it to your Sect Master myself,” Du Chengkun shook his head.

“It’s the same if we deliver it. This is Sunset Clouds, should our Sect Master emerge just for you?” an elder snapped, displeased.

Du Chengkun’s face showed arrogance. “It’s the Sect Master’s letter, meant only for your Sect Master’s hands.”

“Enough nonsense!” Ye Fan sneered, extending a massive hand like a millstone, slamming down.

Bang.

The heavy blow sent Du Chengkun crashing to the ground, bones fracturing. “Who are you, daring to attack me? I represent Departing Fire, do you want war between our sects?” Du Chengkun, blood trickling from his mouth, struggled up, his arrogance slightly curbed but still defiant.

“I am Priest Duan De!” Ye Fan declared.

“Where are you from? Why attack me unprovoked?” Du Chengkun stood, wiping blood, his brows rising. As Departing Fire’s Prime Descendant, he’d never faced such humiliation.

“Go tell your Sect Master my master is staying at Sunset Clouds. Unless you’re in the third realm, the Four Pillars Realm, don’t come seeking death,” Ye Fan said, swinging his millstone-sized hand again, knocking Du Chengkun off the peak.

Using the Nine Secrets’ War Paragon Art, he left unique wounds on Du Chengkun, sure to shock Departing Fire if inspected. “Priest Duan, this…” the elders stammered, stunned. This was bolder than the youthful demon king, provoking a major feud by attacking Departing Fire’s Prime Descendant.

“No worries. The meeker you are, the bolder they’ll be,” Ye Fan said coldly. “I’m certain they won’t dare attack after seeing his wounds.”

“Elders, Seven Star Pavilion and Falling Glow Sect disciples request an audience,” a disciple reported.

“Let them in,” Ye Fan waved.

“Priest, you’re not planning to…” the elders whispered.

As expected, Ye Fan summoned the two, beat them up soundly, leaving them wailing with broken bones, and drove them out. Sunset Clouds' disciples gaped. What kind of priest was this, so ferocious?

“Not teaching them a lesson wouldn’t quell my anger. They act like Saints, pointing fingers in my face. Sparing their lives is mercy enough,” Ye Fan said.

“Priest, you’re too… direct. This will cause chaos,” the elders said, hearts pounding.

“I’m solving the problem by beating them,” Ye Fan replied. He had no choice, showing weakness would doom Sunset Clouds instantly. Others played the pig to eat the tiger; he had to play the tiger to eat the pig, projecting strength and inventing a master to deter them.

“I’ll fetch friends for aid and be gone half a month. They won’t dare attack in that time,” Ye Fan said, planning to seclude himself. “Priest, if you leave…” the elders faltered.

“Don’t worry. I’ll visit those three sects to keep them in check.”

That day, Ye Fan left, boldly visiting Departing Fire Sect, Seven Star Pavilion, and Falling Glow Sect, acting like a sacred ground’s heir. He didn’t enter, just circled their gates, avoiding risk from their old monsters.

Even so, it sowed doubt. They suspected Sunset Clouds had a cultivator at the third realm, the Four Pillars Realm, or this unscrupulous priest wouldn’t dare act so boldly.

Before secluding, Ye Fan visited Flatrock City to track the Jade Pool Saintess, fearing he’d miss her. He learned she’d been touring cities and might soon return to Jade Pool.

“Everything’s piling up…” Ye Fan sighed. Seclusion might mean missing her. After inquiring, some called it a rumor; she might instead head to the outer regions of the Primordial Mine.

“Why go there? Which is true?” Ye Fan couldn’t confirm.

“I’ll have to see for myself,” he decided, unwilling to miss this chance. Being invited by the Saintess for his stone-reading skill was safest; sneaking in later risked exposure.

Ye Fan sped off, arriving days later at Richcloud, an ancient city 90,000 miles away, where the Saintess lingered. In this barren land, Richcloud’s small oasis held many legends, locals believing ancient gods protected them.

The Saintess had stayed half a month, puzzling many. Her allure drew a growing crowd of young talents, including Ji Clan, Jiang Clan, Radiant Light, and even a Middle Continent prince.

“Nonsense. Middle Continent has no sacred grounds, only dynasties enduring over 100,000 years. Would a prince chase a woman from Middle Continent to the Northern Region?” Ye Fan scoffed.

In Richcloud, a cultivator glanced at him. “Fat priest, your news is outdated.”

“How so?”

“It’s true. The prince didn’t come specifically, but he diverted from Celestial City to follow her here.”

Ye Fan stroked his chin. Was the Saintess’ charm so great, attracting holy sons and a prince from a 100,000-year dynasty?

“Just a woman,” he muttered.

“Fat priest, you’re a monk, you wouldn’t get it. But seeing her face, you’d probably renounce your vows,” the cultivator teased.

“I’m not that weak. Even a celestial maiden wouldn’t faze me, I’d see her as just a woman, not a goddess,” Ye Fan retorted.

“Well said, priest. She’s just a Saintess. One day, I’ll make her my concubine,” a bearded youth interjected, reeking of banditry, likely a great bandit’s heir.

The crowd scattered, leaving Ye Fan and the bearded man. “Priest, you speak my language. Let’s grab a drink,” he invited.

Called a “bull-nosed priest,” Ye Fan nodded, stuck in his Duan De guise. At a tavern, they ordered food and drink. The bearded man, bold and hearty, clinked bowls with Ye Fan, downing eighteen bowls of strong liquor.

“Refreshing!” he said, wiping his mouth, laughing. “Are you really a priest? You eat pork and lamb like a true wine-and-meat monk. What’s your name?”

“I’m Duan De, title Boundless,” Ye Fan replied.

“We’re fated! Your face and name seem familiar,” the bearded man, leopard-eyed and burly, laughed, introducing himself as Wu Zhongtian.

Ye Fan’s heart stirred. The Northern Region’s fifth Warlord was Wu Dao, and this bandit-like man was likely his heir. The fourth Warlord, Azure Flood Dragon Monarch, was a demon race powerhouse; the seventh, Heaven Massacre, wielded a Grand Emperor’s Paragon Artifact. Wu Dao, ranked fifth, was immensely powerful, his descendants surely formidable. Wu Zhongtian’s bold character made him worth befriending.

Soon, Ye Fan’s suspicions were confirmed. Tu Fei arrived, followed by several tough young men, all Warlord heirs Ye Fan had seen at Jade Pool’s Flatrock stone workshop. These were no saints, but rivaling Saints in power.

“Who’s this priest? Never seen him,” one asked.

Tu Fei, sipping wine, said, “Zhongtian, introduce this priest.”

Wu Zhongtian, holding sway among them, downed a bowl before saying, “Just met him, but he feels familiar. His name’s Duan De, title Boundless.”

“That name sounds familiar,” Tu Fei muttered.

Ye Fan thought, Is that unscrupulous priest so well-connected? Thriving in the Southern Region and now known in the North? Crossing such distances was tough, with domain gates controlled by sacred grounds.

“Zhongtian, I recall you cursing that name years ago,” another bandit heir whispered.

Wu Zhongtian’s eyes widened, glaring at Ye Fan. “No wonder you seemed familiar! Damn it, it’s you!”

“We know each other?” Ye Fan sensed trouble.

Instead of pinning a black pot on Duan De, he’d taken one himself.

“I’ve never met you, but I’ve seen your portrait. I’d know your ashes! You dared rob my great-grandfather’s tomb! I’ll bury you in Primordial Mine!” Wu Zhongtian, trembling with rage, surrounded Ye Fan.

Ye Fan’s mouth twitched. That unscrupulous priest was incorrigible, daring to rob the fifth bandit’s ancestral tomb, literally digging up trouble. “This has nothing to do with me!” Ye Fan protested, refusing the massive blame, cursing Duan De inwardly.

Wu Zhongtian fumed, having treated this “familiar” man to meat and wine, only to recall old grudges. He slammed the table. “You vile priest! Even if my ancestor was a Supreme Giant, you can’t rob his grave! What face does my grandfather, Warlord Wu Dao, have left?”

Far away, in an unknown ruin, Duan De sneezed thrice, cursing, “Who’s slandering me? They’ll regret it.”

Ye Fan was speechless. Duan De’s sins were countless. Facing these angry bandit heirs, he clarified, “I’m not Duan De! I’ve got a score to settle with him too!”

Revealing his true form, he knew delay meant being torn apart.

“Brother Genius, are you real or fake? Since when did our trade have such a versatile talent?”

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