Extreme Spirit Chaos Technique

With a flash of Thunder Light, Mu Chen’s figure vanished from the living room. He reappeared not outside the dormitory, but inside Mo Qing’s room.

The room was as clean and tidy as ever, a faint, elegant fragrance permeating the air—identical to the scent of Mo Qing’s hair. After zoning out for a moment, Mu Chen placed a fresh sheet of paper on Mo Qing’s long table, weighing it down with a cup. He then pulled open a curtain. After taking one last, lingering look at the room’s decor, Mu Chen picked up the Holy Beast Order once more. With a single thought, he infused a sliver of Primordial Power into it, and a dazzling Space Array Map instantly appeared...

However, before Mu Chen could react, a large hand shot straight through the white Array Map and yanked him out of Mo Qing’s room. Mu Chen’s expression changed to one of horror. No matter how he struggled, the hand was like a giant pincer, and he could not break free.

"Kid! Keep struggling and I’ll toss you right into the spatial turbulence!"

Just as Mu Chen was desperately trying to break free, an old but familiar voice reached his ears. Who else could it be but Feng Chaoming? Feeling the power of that large hand, Mu Chen broke into a cold sweat. ’He’s already injured to that extent, yet he still has such terrifying strength. It seems this Feng Chaoming is truly as formidable as the rumors claim.’

A few moments later, the scene on the other side of the hand finally came into view. Mu Chen’s vision was hazy from the spatial transmission, but after it cleared, a pale-faced Feng Chaoming with thinning hair and a hideous, giant scar on his face appeared before him.

Feng Chaoming, however, did not look pleased. His one sharp eye was fixed on Mu Chen, and he remained silent. His only intact right hand still clutched the front of Mu Chen’s robes, as if he feared the boy might run away.

Mu Chen rubbed his nose in resignation and said guiltily, "Elder Feng, let me explain."

Feng Chaoming snorted coldly. "Explain, my ass. Seeing as how your Martial Artist Realm has skyrocketed so ridiculously, the delay was either because of your cultivation or some fortuitous encounter. But this is Holy Tomb Mountain, so there are no fortuitous encounters. That means you must have been delayed because of some issue with your cultivation. I know that without you having to say it. Right now, I just want to ask you: can you or can you not help this old man restore his hand!"

Seeing that Feng Chaoming had no intention of blaming him, Mu Chen nodded firmly. "I can!"

PHEW!

Feng Chaoming let out a huge sigh of relief, and his grip on Mu Chen loosened. Mu Chen fell to the floor with a THUD, making him sigh in appreciation. ’It feels so good to be on solid ground.’

After landing, Mu Chen didn’t immediately talk about restoring the hand. Instead, he first straightened the wrinkles on the front of his robes, then asked, "Elder Feng."

"Call me Elder Feng."

"Elder Feng." Mu Chen continued without hesitation, "With your current injuries, what is the greatest extent of your strength you can use?"

"My strength?" Feng Chaoming shook his head with a bitter smile. "Right now, I can barely reach the Saint Realm. This injury has plagued me for a long time; you could call it a chronic ailment. I won’t hide it from you—if my injuries aren’t treated soon, I’m afraid I’ll eventually fall all the way to the Venerable Realm."

As he spoke, Feng Chaoming held out his trembling hands. The end of his left arm was a healed, fleshy stump, but there was no hand. His other hand was the right one that had just been grabbing Mu Chen. Staring at his hands, Feng Chaoming smiled bitterly. "To be honest, this is the most painful thing in my entire life. Can you imagine it? Watching your own strength fade away, day by day. Watching everything you once possessed wash away like spilt water... Tragic! Sorrowful! Who could have ever imagined that I was once an expert on par with Dilaka! He was the strongest sword, and I was the strongest fist! But..."

Feng Chaoming suddenly brought his left arm up before his face, his lone right eye glimmering with sorrow. "But... the power I took such pride in, my strongest left fist... is gone... It’s gone..."

At this, the old man who was so immensely powerful in his eyes, the subject of countless legends, actually began to shed murky tears. He remembered Zhu Jiuqian calling Elder Feng a Martial Madman, a War God! One could only imagine how important power was to him! It was no exaggeration to say that power was the most important thing in his entire life. When someone loses the most important thing in their life, they might grieve, they might fall into depravity, they might even consider dying. But that kind of pain is momentary. After being washed away by the currents of time and the accumulation of years, that suffering would be replaced by another person or thing of most importance.

But to watch the most important thing in your life vanish day by day, dissipate bit by bit, with no way to stop it... that kind of suffering is like watching the person you love most in the world be executed by a thousand cuts. It was pain, again and again, each time worse than the last... That was a heart-wrenching agony! A heart-wrenching agony that would follow him for the rest of his life!

At this moment, Mu Chen didn’t look down on the old man crying like a child in the slightest. His eyes were filled with deep admiration. ’At least he still has the courage to live! For countless years! Even after falling from the Nine-Ring Saint Realm to the One-Ring Saint Realm, he still held on. If I started out wanting to save Feng Chaoming with an ulterior motive, now, I want to help him willingly, from the bottom of my heart!’

「Time passed.」 Feng Chaoming gradually emerged from his grief. His gaze toward Mu Chen had softened considerably. Wiping away the tears that blurred his vision, Feng Chaoming said with a laugh, "Sorry to have made a fool of myself. A great, two-hundred-year-old fossil like me, looking so pathetic in front of a teenager. If word got out, I’d be a laughingstock."

Mu Chen grew serious and shook his head. "That’s not pathetic. Those are the tears of a hero."

Mu Chen’s words stunned Feng Chaoming for a moment. "The tears of a hero?"

Repeating the words, Feng Chaoming looked at Mu Chen with surprise, which then turned into a hearty laugh. "The tears of a hero! HAHA! What a magnificent phrase! Now I finally understand why that old dog Dilaka thinks so highly of you. So that’s the reason! That’s the reason!"

After laughing heartily for a while, Feng Chaoming’s expression returned to normal. He asked directly, "Kid, when can you fix this left hand for me? Or do you need any Heavenly Materials and Earthly Treasures? Just name them, and this old man will find a way to get them!"

Mu Chen smiled. "Anytime works. Now would be best, it just depends on when you have free time, Elder Feng. If now isn’t good, I can wait here for a day or two."

Hearing Mu Chen mention waiting a day or two, Feng Chaoming grew alarmed and said frantically, "What do you mean, wait a day or two? I have plenty of time today! No, today is the day I have the most time! Quick!"

With that, to Mu Chen’s astonishment, Feng Chaoming found a clean spot and sat down cross-legged. "What do I need to do?!" he asked.

Mu Chen rubbed his nose helplessly. "We don’t need much. A sharp tool, a container about half an arm deep and a palm’s width across, and a quiet environment."

"It’s that simple?" Feng Chaoming asked, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"Of course it’s not that simple, otherwise what would you need me for!" Mu Chen retorted.

But seeing Mu Chen speak so bluntly with him actually made Feng Chaoming exceptionally happy. "I have nothing here, but the environment is certainly quiet. As for a sharp tool, I don’t have one. I’ve never used a weapon in my life—my fists are my weapons. For the container, though, I wonder if this will work."

As Mu Chen watched, Feng Chaoming produced, from who knows where, a long bottle about half an arm in length. Its opening wasn’t large, but a hand could just fit through. The bottle appeared white, yet its body was so crystal clear that one could see right through it. What was most puzzling was the decoration. Normally, containers were engraved with auspicious beasts, lucky symbols, or simple patterns—or left completely plain. More importantly, any carvings were always on the outside. This white bottle, however, was peculiar. Its patterns were not on the outside, but on the inside. Furthermore, the engraved design was bizarre; at first glance, it looked like a chaotic mess, impossible to decipher.

Looking closer at the base, Mu Chen noted that most containers have a convex bottom to keep them from being unstable on a flat surface. This transparent white bottle, however, had a concave base. To set it upright, Feng Chaoming had to blast a round hole in the ground with his Primordial Power.

"This bottle..."

"Strange, right?" Feng Chaoming interrupted, looking quite pleased with himself. "Don’t think I was just a Martial Madman in the past. I have my hobbies, like collecting strange artifacts. This is one of my collectibles. And where did I get it? Heheh. Right here, on our Holy Tomb Mountain."

Mu Chen pursed his lips. "It looks average to me."

Feng Chaoming huffed. "What the hell do you know, kid! Don’t just look at the fact that it has no Primordial Power fluctuations and doesn’t seem like any kind of treasure. Its origins are special! That old dog Dilaka once offered to trade me an Immortal Treasure for it, and I refused."

An Immortal Treasure!! Mu Chen’s expression finally changed. The Shattered Star Lock Chain, the manifestation of the Sun and Moon Immortal Spirit, was an Immortal Treasure—also called a Nine-Turn Immortal Soldier. Thinking of this, however, Mu Chen couldn’t help but look at Feng Chaoming with disdain. ’How much could this worthless bottle be worth? To reject even an Immortal Treasure... What a flagrant waste! He’s completely insane!’

Of course, Mu Chen wouldn’t say that out loud. Feng Chaoming didn’t linger on the topic either, instead saying to Mu Chen, "Lend me a sharp tool."

Without hesitating, Mu Chen flicked his wrist and tossed Feng Chaoming the Golden Dagger he had acquired from the Xuanling Imperial Academy’s armory.

As he caught the dagger, Feng Chaoming’s expression suddenly shifted. He focused his gaze on the seemingly scribbled lines in the center of the blade. After a soft "Huh?" of surprise, he furrowed his brow. "Where have I seen this pattern before?"