Chapter 157: Exchange

The surviving soldiers and women hiding in the cabin could only feel the warship endlessly pitching and rolling in every direction. Continuous sounds of collisions, thunderclaps, and shouts roared in their ears.

Liu Manwen, Jiang Qing, and the others felt like pigs trapped in a cage, anxiously waiting for death’s sickle to cut across their necks.

Against this terrifying natural disaster, they were utterly helpless. Their only choice was to hide inside the cabin and pray silently.

Many things inside the cabin were already thrown into chaos, some dropped straight into the sea. If everyone hadn’t used ropes to secure themselves beforehand, most people might have been knocked unconscious, killed, or even swept overboard.

The sensation of violent pitching and rolling became a continuous background fixture. After what felt like an eternity, when everyone had almost grown used to the feeling, the sea gradually calmed down. The sounds reaching their ears became increasingly faint.

…

Burning sun lit the deck.

Zuo Zhicheng snapped his eyes open and felt an overwhelming ache throughout his limbs and body. His efforts with Li Xunyi to break through the giant waves hadn’t lasted long before the latter collapsed from exhaustion.

Afterwards, he had fought alone on the deck, using cannons to break the waves, adjusting the ship’s course, and clearing away debris. Finally, he could only pray for the heavens’ favor.

Even for him, there was precious little he could do in such a shipwreck. Thankfully, their luck held. Though several sailors had been washed overboard, the entire warship eventually broke free from the storm, surviving the ordeal.

Mere moments after emerging from the tempest, the exhausted crew collapsed wherever they stood to rest. Zuo Zhicheng lay right there on the deck, closing his eyes for a few minutes.

Compared to the furious sea before, the calm, sunny, calm scene before them brought everyone a much greater sense of relief.

Later, the sailors rose one by one, checking their position. They planned to head for the nearest port for repairs and resupplies.

During this time, Li Xunyi brought Liu Manwen to Zuo Zhicheng’s room to pay their respects. Their curiosity about this mysterious, powerful, yet cold man was clearly evident.

Li Xunyi introduced them, “I am Li Xunyi of the Pure Subtle Sword Sect. This is Miss Liu Manwen, eldest daughter of General Liu Yi of the Hidden Scale Army.”

Zuo Zhicheng stated simply, “Zuo Zhicheng.”

Liu Manwen looked at him with clear admiration, “Brother Zuo, escaping this calamity truly depended on you. After we disembark, perhaps you could visit my home? My father admires heroes like you more than anything; you two would surely find common ground.”

Evidently, once her safety was assured, Liu Manwen reverted to her true nature. Seeing Zuo Zhicheng’s formidable martial arts skill, she wanted to recruit him.

Li Xunyi, standing nearby, saw her obvious recruitment attempt and merely smiled without speaking.

Zuo Zhicheng coldly replied, “Apologies. I was accidentally brought to the island by those ghouls. I must hurry home first.”

Liu Manwen gave an awkward smile, realizing she’d been too hasty. She started explaining the upcoming journey and arrangements instead, casually mentioning the influence of the Hidden Scale Army in the Central Governance region.

“We should reach Chaiye in about three days. Are you sure you wish to disembark there?”

Zuo Zhicheng nodded. He remained silent afterward, clearly showing not the slightest interest in Liu Manwen’s enthusiastic invitation.

Liu Manwen smiled again, carefully hiding a spark of irritation. She wasn’t foolish enough to miss his impatience. With a respectful expression, she said, “Since that’s the case, I won’t disturb you further. However, my debt for the life you saved is enormous. I’ve prepared a small token of gratitude. Please do accept it.”

After Zuo Zhicheng gave his reluctant assent, Liu Manwen departed, leaving only Li Xunyi, who continued to look at Zuo Zhicheng with a knowing smile.

“So many died; such heavy losses this time. If she fails to recruit you, she’ll likely be saddled with the label of ‘incompetent.'”

“And what of it?” Zuo Zhicheng glanced at Li Xunyi, “Do you want to help her?”

“Of course not. My goals lie elsewhere.” A mysterious smile tugged at Li Xunyi’s lips. “Your martial prowess, sir, deserves the title of a grandmaster. May I ask under which school or sect you studied?”

“Learned at the Haoran Martial Hall.”

“Haoran Martial Hall?” Li Xunyi considered the name silently, unable to recall any such sect in his memory. He dismissed it with a light laugh and continued, “I’d like to hear your understanding of Dao Arts.”

“Dao Arts,” Zuo Zhicheng said flatly, “are merely methods of understanding and applying the laws of the myriad things in this world. In essence, there’s no difference from cooking a meal, fishing, or hunting. Even everything under heaven could fall under the scope of Dao Arts.”

“An interesting perspective,” Li Xunyi remarked. “To me, Dao Arts are actions beyond the capability of common men. The ability to achieve what mortals cannot—that is Dao Arts.”

“In ancient times, countless gods and demons ruled the land, turning rivers and seas, grasping stars and moons as easily as breathing. Their era ended when the Ancient Deity ‘Naba’ destroyed them.”

“In medieval times, sects were as numerous as leaves on a tree. Masters of profound Dao Arts were as plentiful as stars; common folk were valued less than pigs or hounds. The First Demon Lord of the Northern Demon Sect rose amidst these troubled times. He created his own Dao Art. His ‘Big Ivan’ achieved nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine consecutive strikes, annihilating three thousand Dao Sects and ending the medieval era.”

“In the early modern era, the founding emperor of Western Wei arose from the common people. He allied with the inscrutable South Saint Sect, concluded a millennium of chaotic warfare, unified the Central Plains, and founded the greatest dynasty the world had ever seen.”

“Their power, their Dao Arts… it fills me with deep longing.”

Zuo Zhicheng felt no such longing, but hearing this account of so-called history for the first time shocked him. If this was secret history known only to disciples of Dao Arts sects like Li Xunyi, then…

“‘Big Ivan’ achieved nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine consecutive strikes?” A flicker of doubt passed through Zuo Zhicheng’s eyes. “What kind of Dao Art is that?”

“I thought it strange when I first heard the name too,” Li Xunyi laughed. “My uncle master said this Dao Art was created by the Demon Lord himself. Supposedly, it uses words from a minority people’s tongue. Its meaning was roughly ‘destroy,’ ‘shatter,’ and ‘despair.'”

“Oh,” Zuo Zhicheng blinked. He continued asking, “What became of the Northern Demon Sect then? Does anyone still know this Dao Art?”

Li Xunyi had intended to exchange views on Dao Arts and martial skills with Zuo Zhicheng, hoping to become friends. He hadn’t expected Zuo Zhicheng to show such interest in the Northern Demon Sect.

“It’s unknown,” Li Xunyi said. “After the era of competing medieval sects ended, the Demon Lord vanished without a trace. His technique of ‘Big Ivan – Nine Thousand Nine Hundred and Ninety-Nine Consecutive Strikes’ was passed down, but among all subsequent Demon Lords claiming the title, the most outstanding genius only reached four consecutive strikes. Yet that alone made them unmatched warriors of their age.”

“But since the time of the Eastern Wei dynasty, even the Northern Demon Sect has vanished without a trace. The so-called ‘Demon Lord’ and the ‘Big Ivan – Nine Thousand Nine Hundred and Ninety-Nine Consecutive Strikes’ are known only through fragments in hidden histories.”

Zuo Zhicheng nodded, keeping his questions to himself. He then discussed his understanding of Dao Arts and martial skills further with Li Xunyi. He was indeed deeply interested in this Sword Cultivator disciple and the knowledge held within such sects.

Though bound by life-and-death circumstances, they were still new acquaintances. Their conversation remained broad and general.

It lasted until deep into the night. After Li Xunyi left, Zuo Zhicheng finally pulled something from his chest – a bundle he had desperately salvaged from the tower. Diaries and research materials.

Hidden for a whole day, the time had finally come to see what they held. That island, the dragon shadow, the tsunami… just what had it all been about?