The elderly shopkeeper seemed to have been cursed; regardless of his attempts to maintain a benevolent and saintly image, the world seemed dreadfully intent on tearing apart his façade.
Watching the cold blade descend onto An Fei’s carriage with unconcealed malice, Wang Qinian’s aged heart surged with a turmoil of frightening emotions.
“My disciple’s carriage… you dare!?”
ROAR!
The carriage driver who had extended his blade towards the saintly and benevolent elderly shopkeeper suddenly found himself unable to maintain the blazing arrogance in his heart.
Not only that, as his vision abruptly warped and settled onto that of the warm and dry earth, the man didn’t even know what he should be thinking about.
Where did the powerless man run away to, and who was this frightening monster marching directly towards him?
“I.. I…”
Turning his head towards the left in a fit of panic, the carriage driver found himself staring into the shell-shocked countenance of his compatriot who had decided to quell the rebellion at its roots.
The steel-hearted man felt his heart clench in fear and pulsate against the foundations of his sanity, only to find a earth-ridden boot plant itself directly against the bridge of his nose.
“What were you planning to do with my granddaughter’s carriage?”
Wang Qinian’s voice was neither imposing nor cruel, maintaining the even nature and temperament. Nonetheless, as the elderly shopkeeper fought to bring a genial smile onto his lips, everyone within the vicinity shivered with fright.
They had not seen an old man literally radiate flames from his body.
Shua!
A spark flickered from the elderly shopkeeper’s fingertips to explode into a violent furor before the scared man’s eyes.
Wang Qinian leaned downwards to gaze into the carriage drivers’ eyes, a benevolent arc present on his eyebrows.
“All sins can be forgiven underneath Heaven’s will. Now, if you will explain as to why you attempted to attack my granddaughter’s carriage, this matter can be settled easily.”
Wang Qinian’s body was radiating azure flames.
The flickering flares sprung from the roots of his hair, the pores on his skin, and the bones themselves, presenting an appearance synonymous to that of an entity of fire found in the southern regions of the continent.
At the same time, a boundless aura sprung forth to dominate the plains with its cruelty and solemnness. Discovering themselves unable to breath properly or force their eyes to blink, the people occupying the steel carriages clutched at their hearts in fear.
This was not a practitioner of the Spirit Building Realm, where the flames were a manifestation of spiritual essence.
To generate physical flames to wreath his body with the agility, only a peak Core Formation Realm cultivation could pull off such a feat!
And that… was only a baseline estimate – in most cases, the control over the manifestation was frugal and frail at best.
Just why were the heavens so cruel, to disguise a high expert of the Shattered Star Continent as a beggar on the streets of the highway plains!?
The cultivators of the Shattered Star Continent sought after three main goals along their journey on the path of cultivation.
Aura, Manifestation, Consecration.
These could be considered the primary milestones along the journey of any cultivator aspiring to establish themselves a future.
Compared to the three goals that towered over the highest mountains and their tyrannical winds, even achieving the legendary Nascent Soul Realm was secondary.
The aura of a cultivator was simple; the spiritual essence within a practitioner’s meridians would seep out into the natural environment through the pores, enacting temporary changes onto the surroundings.
The presence of an aura was usually accompanied with the furnishing of colorful light and texture, as though they had summoned a divine entity to watch their path from behind – an acala, of sorts.
The realm of manifestation was attained when the cultivator had become attuned with the natural world; with a command of the mind or a sweep of the sleeve, they could topple mountains, overturn seas, and sever rain from the clouds.
The realm of manifestation permitted the practitioner to solidify their spiritual essence into the spatial-coordinates surrounding their body and grant their appropriate properties – to conjure physical flames to wreath the body in a protective-offensive shell, to materialize a blade formed entirely from the elements, or to summon barrages of nature upon their foes.
The attributes and instilled concepts forming the aura could enhance the lethality and effectiveness of martial arts techniques compatible with such attributes.
Upon unleashing their aura to permeate the surroundings, a practitioner could extend the range and strength of their lethal techniques beyond reasonable quantities, or accelerate to speeds unheard of in their current realms.
The manifestation, on the other hand, completely retained its physical properties of its original concept.
Though a conjured flame couldn’t be altered to possess extraordinary effects, the sheer effects of a fire in certain circumstances could be terrifying and lethal compared to that of a peerless technique augmented by a practitioner’s aura.
The aura was granted to practitioners at their entry into the Spirit Building Realm; in most circumstances, the aura was bestowed upon completing the initial stages of Spirit Building, and was reserved by practitioners as a last resort.
The nurturing of an aura once it was bestowed required a sizeable investment of resources, spanning from spiritual medicines, holy panaceas, and years of consistent effort.
Nobody was certain regarding the specific arrival of the realm of Manifestation, though some had once surmised that those of the Nascent Soul Realm possessed the natural ability to manipulate the elements of the earth as though it were breathing.
As for the realm of Consecration… the cultivator’s world of the Shattered Star Continent had only heard of its title.
Hence, the appearance of the realm of Manifestation upon itself was a terrifying and awe-inspiring scene, unless it were an enemy.
“Ah, ARGH!”
A high-pitched cry that seemed utterly discordant and highly inappropriate of that of a male ripped itself from the carriage drivers’ throats, dying the chilled atmosphere with a shade of crimson and azure flames.
The two imposing men writhed underneath an aged shopkeeper’s foot, their countenances struggling to retain sanity.
The thick and pervasive stench of burnt proteins raged into everyone’s noses, prompting many to frown and gag with discomfort.
An Fei clambered out of her half-destroyed carriage with a handkerchief covering her nose and mouth, not sure whether to laugh or cry at the scene displayed before her.
Was roasting defeated enemies underneath one’s foot that entertaining and enjoyable?
“That geezer has such a twisted smile on his annoying face…”
“I, Guardian Wang, have attempted to request of a favor with politeness and benevolence,” Wang Qinian sneered with a hollow smile on his lips.
“However, since you wish to drink the chalice of malevolence, then this old man… hehe, cannot help but extend forth his request with a blade.”
“Hand over three weeks of food and water for two people; otherwise, these two shall burn underneath my foot!”
The flames gently receded from the two carriage driver’s bodies, revealing the holes of which the impenetrable metal armor had melted to scald and thoroughly burn the skin.
The two men whose countenances had reeked of coldness and arrogance now surrendered their consciousness to darkness, seeking refuge in the temporary oblivion to escape the bone-scorching pain.
“Fool, do you think we will acquiesce to such heartless demands!?”
One of the men stationed on their carriages scowled with anger and fear. With a gulp of nervousness and a glance directed towards the interior of the carriages, the drivers leapt from their comfortable seats, rushing towards the elderly shopkeeper with cold trails.
A fan of sabre, tianmadao, and podao surged to surround Wang Qinian from all angles.
The armored men interchanged their positions to form an encircling net around the elderly shopkeeper, their weapons disproportionate in length and breadth forming a nasty formation emphasizing an unpredictable offense and defense.
As they silently watched the old man from their chilled eyes, ignoring the trails of cold sweat dripping from the back of their necks to land onto the ground, the armored men couldn’t help but console themselves with reasonable thoughts and sweet nothings. The blades of the weapons clinked and tapped against each other as though to pass along their nervousness, thoughts, and anxiety.
Though it was honestly terrifying that the old man before them had attained the realm of Manifestation, he was still a single person!
If they had the assistance of their masters in the carriages, then defeating the old man without sustaining severe losses was still feasible.
Ants couldn’t slaughter a giant, but they could grind him down to death over time!
“Charge!”
The interlocked weapons rushed in to claim the life of their single enemy, their wielders gulping down mouthfuls of nervous saliva.
The armored men braced themselves for the inevitable impact, but in their haste the neutralize the foe standing at the base of the mountain, they had forgotten about the one standing to the side…
