Chapter Seventy-Two: Interwoven Labyrinths

Qianlong staggered out of the underground lair clutching the Thousand-Mile Flame Dragon Spear, as wisps of blue smoke curled from the mushroom-shaped cavern. Looking down, he saw the guards at the entrance had vanished, and the members of the Fierce Tiger Guild were gone as well. Not a soul remained below—yet a swarm of vibrant, multicolored creatures surged from the lair in a sudden tidal wave.

They were giant spiders and gold-eating ants.

He hurriedly glanced up again. The area around the lair was deathly still, with several figures lurking in the shadows—experts from Torrent City, arranged in advance. Qianlong shouted loudly, "There's been a mutation in the underground lair! Hurry and send reinforcements!"

At once, the wind howled as several black figures rushed toward the mushroom-shaped cave, though a few auras also began closing in on him.

Was it the spear that attracted them? Damn it.

Qianlong cursed inwardly. If this were any other time, he would have fought them head-on, relishing the battle. But he had just dueled the Flame Mouse for ages, then briefly clashed with that mysterious violet-haired woman—if he used his source power again, he would be utterly spent.

He involuntarily slowed his steps.

Suddenly, another thunderous boom erupted from the cap of the mushroom-shaped hill. A streak of violet light shot into the sky, and two of the experts rushing to the lair were cleaved in half by a purple blade before they could even cry out.

A grotesque black ant head poked out from the cave, jaws snapping up the falling severed bodies, the crunching sounds echoing. A massive zombie ant crawled out atop the hill, its ten-meter-long body truly fearsome.

But it wasn’t over yet. After the zombie ant, two more giant creatures emerged—one was the third-level ant queen, the other a fourth-level giant spider. A shadowy black figure flickered and vanished.

With these three monstrous creatures gathered upon the mushroom-cap hill, primal energy filled the air. The experts who had rushed in to help scattered warily, retreating just as hastily as they had arrived.

“Damn!” Hearing the commotion, Qianlong glanced back, his soul nearly leaving his body with terror. He could only wish his parents had given him two more legs to flee faster.

Fortunately, the monsters that had emerged from the hill didn’t pursue him. Qianlong felt a measure of relief, but as he was about to stop, two sharp gusts of wind sliced through the air—a pair of black shadows leaped from the grass.

A surge of powerful energy pressed down on him. One attacker hurled a furious punch at his head, while the other flipped his palm to snatch the spear.

So they were after the spear after all! Qianlong sneered inwardly—he was prepared. Raising the spear, he swept it through the air. With the boost of his source power and energy, a dragon of fire roared forth, spiraling in the sky, forcing his two assailants to retreat.

Seizing the chance, Qianlong fled in haste. But after this first ambush, more attacks and attempts to seize the spear were inevitable. From the underground lair to Redleaf Academy, a hundred miles away, Qianlong fought a bloody path, risking his life to protect the spear. Gasping for breath, he finally reached the academy gates.

Even now, a few shadowy figures still trailed him, unwilling to give up. Yet Qianlong relaxed—no one would dare snatch the spear here.

A graceful, elegant lady emerged from the academy. Adjusting her silver-rimmed glasses, she approached Qianlong.

"Relax. You're safe now."

She handed him a handkerchief, faintly scented with perfume. Seeing an expert from Redleaf Academy come to meet him, the lurking shadows behind hesitated, then quietly withdrew.

Qianlong took the handkerchief and wiped the blood from his face, feeling relief settle in his heart.

"Your hand is badly burned—let me bandage it," the lady said, supporting him as she led him into the guard office. "Old Li, bring the medicine box, a basin of hot water, a basin of cold water, and pour a cup of tea."

"Yes, right away."

Though Qianlong didn't know the lady’s identity, her qipao and jade hairpin suggested she held a high position at the academy. The doorman, Old Li, dared not slack off, bustling in and out, though he couldn’t help but wonder—what did she need a basin of cold water for?

"Don't bandage me just yet. I must deliver this spear to the headmaster first," Qianlong said.

"The headmaster is already on his way. Let me tend your hand now—otherwise, you might lose it," the lady replied.

She was beautiful, mature, intelligent, and elegant. Even standing still, she drew every gaze—let alone when she spoke so softly and kindly. Qianlong felt his tension slowly ebb.

He took a deep breath and leaned the Thousand-Mile Flame Dragon Spear against the wall.

Old Li quickly brought the medicine box, filled a basin with hot water, and poured a cup of tea.

The lady knelt to clean his wounds with alcohol, then wrapped his hand in gauze. “Dispose of this later,” she told Old Li.

She soaked a thick swath of cloth in the cold water, then stood and walked out, naturally picking up the spear where it leaned against the wall.

“Brother Li, what’s her name? My, she’s got quite the charm,” Qianlong mused as he sipped his tea, her graceful figure lingering in his mind.

Old Li paused, puzzled. “No idea. Isn’t she your friend?”

“Ha, no. But if you get the chance, ask for me—I—wait, no, my spear!”

Qianlong leapt up and threw open the door, but the lady was already gone.

A soft laugh echoed, “So easy—so much for the ‘greatest expert of Torrent City.’ Turns out he’s just the greatest fool.”

On the outskirts of Torrent City, a discarded qipao, jade hairpin, and wig lay scattered. A young woman in a beige dress hurried ahead, barely touching the ground.

“Whew, this thing is scalding.”

She’d wrapped the Thousand-Mile Flame Dragon Spear in several layers of wet cotton cloth, but it quickly scorched through. She simply bound it with an iron chain and dragged it along.

A tall clock tower soon loomed ahead. With a laugh, she quickened her pace, crossing the grass toward the ancient, abandoned tower, its stone doors shrouded in dust and cobwebs.

Something felt wrong as she stepped inside. Her toes barely touched the ground as she flipped backward—but just then, several figures shot from the tower, dark and sinister energy locking her in place, invisible currents pinning her down.

The clock tower’s door creaked open. A young man with a red demon mask stepped out, hands clasped behind his back, flanked by two others in black leather jackets, both wearing green demon masks.

“Leave the spear. Kill her. Destroy the body—leave no evidence,” the leader ordered.

The two men advanced, but then several more waves of energy burst forth—not targeting the woman, but everyone present.

“Well, who would have thought the Jade Marquis of Gruceburg could be so ruthless,” an amused voice drawled.

Behind the woman, a girl in a gentleman’s suit and white fox mask strolled up, flicking open a folding fan. Four men in long white robes and white masks followed at a measured distance, the force they radiated overwhelming.

As the girl in the gentleman’s suit approached, the hostile energy locking onto the woman dissipated. She snapped her fan shut with a crisp slap against her palm.

The red-masked youth chuckled softly, “Well, well, a case of mistaken identity, Ronin.”

“Oh? I thought Gruceburg and Slaughter Island would inevitably come to blows, Bei Yuming,” the girl replied, removing her mask to reveal a pretty, delicate face.

It was Ronin of Shali Academy.

Today was the company’s annual meeting, so I’m late—but here’s the continuation.