Demon Sword Sect's Undercover-Chapter 794 - 793: Watching the Bustle

Hou Niao flew back recklessly, which was actually a gamble.

Under normal circumstances, Sword Cultivators from the Shan Sect in Wu Country’s airspace, or Daoists from the Wu Sect in Shan Country’s airspace, were not in danger, even though they were prone to provocation; but since there was no actual warfare, they were still considered guests, albeit unwelcome ones.

A strange fact was that Shan Sect Sword Cultivators would not kill Wu Sect Daoists on their own territory, and Wu Sect Daoists would not kill Shan Sect Sword Cultivators who were simply traveling through Wu Country. This was an unspoken rule to prevent skirmishes from turning into war.

The real danger lay in encounters between the two Sects’ Cultivators in the airspace of a third country—that would be hazardous.

He hadn’t been flying for long when he felt a vast Divine Sense sweep over him from afar, and at the same time, a surging aura skimmed a thousand feet above his head, filled with a suppressive intent.

A Divine Sense penetrated his mind, "Stay put, any movement and you will be killed!"

This was a warning from a Nascent Transformation Master, rude and to the point.

The Nascent Transformation Elder of the Wu Sect had come out, clearly, the Heartless Dao had succeeded, but how many Pocket Worlds had been stolen, who could say?

In the face of such a vast disparity in power, no one dared to disobey; it wasn’t time for pride or temper, as any Cultivator accustomed to travelling the Continent understood.

All this was within his expectations, so he didn’t fly outward but inward, knowing that no matter how fast he flew, he couldn’t outpace a Nascent Transformation Master. fгeewёbnoѵel_cσm

It would take him three days to fly from Langya Mountain to the nearest national border, but it would take a Nascent Transformation Master less than an hour; there was no comparison.

He didn’t need to worry about special attention; in a country as large as Wu, thousands were flying at this time of night, from the Wu Sect, other Daoist Sects, Buddhist Sects, Demon Sects, and smaller sects. For Cultivators, there were no issues with traveling at night—they were all night owls, and Cultivators often preferred to move under cover of darkness to avoid alarming Mortals.

In the areas that the Nascent Transformation Master passed, hundreds to thousands of minor Cultivators were frozen in the sky, not daring to move, not because they had been cast under a spell, but out of fear of attracting trouble; one could imagine that in addition to the Wu Sect Masters in this direction, there must be other Masters elsewhere. As one of the top Daoist powers on the Jinxiu Continent, if all nineteen Nascent Transformation Masters of the sect were mobilized, it would be no joke.

It would be effortless, perhaps even quicker, to control the entire airspace of Wu Country within a few hours.

Which meant that at this moment, thousands of Cultivators in Wu Country’s airspace were passively waiting to be questioned; there was no helping it.

Before even a quarter hour had passed, a dark-faced Daoist suddenly appeared beside him. A single glance from him, and Hou Niao felt as though he had been seen through completely, leaving no secrets.

"Name? Sect?"

"Li Shipeng, Shan Sect Sword Cultivator."

"Where are you from? Where are you headed? What’s your purpose?"

"I came from Pingliang, going to Langya Mountain, as a messenger."

"Hand it over."

Hou Niao obediently took out a Jade Scroll. Before he could hand it over, the dark-faced Master had snatched it away, checked it briefly, and threw it back along with a Token,

"Carry this to Langya Mountain, and you shall remain unharmed."

The sound of his voice had not yet faded when the man had disappeared without a trace.

He breathed a sigh of relief; he had managed to get through this ordeal.

Firstly, his direction was misleading, heading towards Langya Mountain rather than fleeing; secondly, he didn’t possess any Pocket Worlds, the aura of which could not be hidden; and lastly, his role as a messenger wasn’t a sham, only delayed by a year.

The letter was real, sent by Li Chuping to a Golden Core member of the Wu Sect; Li Chuping was the head of the secret spies of the Sikong Mansion in the Shan Sect, and the Golden Core member was a high-ranking Secret Detective of the Wu Sect. Although not friends, the two had business interactions, such as the intention to exchange spies, which occurred every few years.

He couldn’t just disguise himself casually; he needed concrete evidence—he had only two choices, Shan Sect or Heavenly Heart Pavilion. Comparatively speaking, his old affiliation was more reliable. Being a sword cultivator himself, there was no problem with that; moreover, he truly trusted individuals like Li Chuping and Yu Zhengxing.

Of course, he was fiercely lectured by Assistant Li again, who scolded him for still causing trouble for Quanzhen even after everyone had left, and so on.

But Old Li had learned his lesson and didn’t dare ask what exactly he was planning to do at Langya Mountain, fearing that asking too much might lead him to dig his own grave.

Everything fit together perfectly, with Li Shipeng still in seclusion and Li Chuping’s story matching his, this was the escape route he had designed for himself. Running into the den of thieves was also a kind of security under the cover of darkness.

All of this was within his calculations; the only risk he needed to take was his appearance. Using his real face was definitely not an option—within Wu Sect, he was hated so much that he reckoned if his true identity were discovered, some would likely attack him without regard for the rules. He couldn’t rely on luck for this.

He was betting on the old blind man’s tattered cloth.

Originally, he had thought the old man might be a Nascent Transformation Master, but an experience of being surrounded and attacked in the small courtyard of Sui Mo City made him realize that perhaps the old man was beyond even a Master’s level of measurement.

So he changed his appearance, betting that even a Nascent Transformation Master would not be able to see through such a disguise.

He won the bet.

He flew forth leisurely, truly curious at heart, wondering just how great the losses Wu Sect had suffered this time?

It surely wasn’t because he had looted so many artifacts; to a Nascent Transformation Master, those things were worthless. Only the Pocket World could cause so many Masters to become so desperately frantic.

Also, had the severely injured Xiang Tianxing and the body of Zhuang Fairy been found yet? He had many questions...

On his way to Langya Mountain, he encountered many interceptions, but with the black-faced Master’s token and letters, the journey was relatively smooth.

Although he couldn’t gather any news, the air of tension grew thicker as he traveled.

By the break of day, he had returned to Langya Mountain, only not as its master—he was now a guest.

Wu Sect didn’t even let him inside.

After waiting from afar for over two hours, a Golden Core Daoist flew over and greeted him warmly,

"Li Shipeng? That name sounds familiar; we must have met before."

Hou Niao responded directly, "Sorry, I have no recollection. Could you not use these little tricks on me? We’re all in the same line of work; is it really necessary?"

This Wu Sect Golden Core didn’t suspect him but was rather instinctually probing any cultivator who appeared near Langya Mountain at this time—a precautionary measure to ensure nothing was amiss.

The Golden Core Daoist was not the least bit embarrassed; he took the letter, scanning it rapidly.

"Alright, that’s it. Don’t linger here—it’s not convenient."

Hou Niao smiled, trying to get a bit chummy, "What happened? Why have all the ancestors been mobilized? It scared me to death."

The Golden Core Daoist gave him a cold glance, "Don’t ask what you shouldn’t; you might just lose your life asking such questions! You think Sikong Mansion wants to stir trouble in Langya Mountain? Want me to help you set up a contact point?"

Hou Niao shrugged his shoulders and strode away.

He had known all along that he wouldn’t be able to enter this place; who would air their dirty laundry for outsiders to see? Especially a Sikong Mansion hound with an exceptionally keen nose?