Chapter 97: A Fierce Rebuke of the Eastern King

Generally speaking, unless absolutely necessary, Chu Feng was never inclined toward killing. But a man like Xiao Fan truly deserved no mercy.

Nevertheless, Chu Feng spared their lives. One sword strike might not render a ninth-rank earth spirit warrior powerless, but three would suffice, and Chu Feng deliberately avoided vital points, inflicting no fatal wounds.

There were reasons for his restraint. First, he owed them a debt; regardless of whether their previous rescue was sincere or feigned, Chu Feng simply wished to act without remorse. Second, Xiao Fan’s crimes against Xiao Yue were so grave that death would have been too easy a reprieve. Chu Feng left him alive for Xiao Yue, hoping that one day she could settle this grievance herself.

Amid the crowd’s terror, Chu Feng departed swiftly. He did not utter any words of forgiveness, knowing that anything said would be pointless.

The squad of a hundred was annihilated, yet for a whole month, the Eastern King remained unaware. The Eastern King believed that a hundred sixth-rank earth spirit warriors could easily kill Chu Feng.

However, these recent days, unease crept into his heart. He felt that the pursuit had dragged on far too long. Suspicious, he promptly had someone contact the squad, only to be shocked—there was no trace of them.

Though it seemed impossible, the Eastern King was forced to conclude: the squad had been wiped out. As for how, and whether Chu Feng was responsible, he could not say.

He sent others to investigate the squad’s fate, a process that, naturally, would take time and was now irrelevant to Chu Feng.

Having left Xiao Fan and the others behind, Chu Feng’s journey proceeded smoothly. Along the way, he marveled at the danger he’d faced, and a question lingered in his mind: since he hadn't killed Duan Liming and the others, who had? Was it calculated, or merely coincidence?

Chu Feng was inclined to believe it was calculated, for someone truly wished him dead.

Now, the list of enemies he’d made could be counted one by one. For someone to target the Eastern King’s clan to deal with him—such a person possessed extraordinary audacity.

The Qin family? Unlikely, Chu Feng thought. They were a minor clan in the Holy City, too timid to provoke the Eastern King’s clan merely for his sake.

Xiao Fan? His shrewdness made it plausible, but from their earlier encounter, Chu Feng sensed Xiao Fan and his companions knew nothing of the matter.

Yu Wenfeng? Though he bore enmity toward Chu Feng, he was the sort who sought revenge through his own strength; easily manipulated perhaps, but never one to plot against others.

Thinking of Yu Wenfeng, Chu Feng also considered Mo Chen. This youth was no less calculating than Xiao Fan; their previous clash had clearly been orchestrated by Mo Chen.

In the end, Chu Feng fixed his suspicions on Mo Chen, believing that if the deaths were not coincidental, Mo Chen was likely involved.

“If I do find you were behind it, not even Mo Xuan could save you!” Chu Feng’s heart burned with anger.

After two months, Chu Feng finally emerged from the vast mountains, and another month’s journey brought him back to the Holy City.

Upon arrival, he knew he was truly safe at last. Yet his anger remained—a fury accumulated from months of relentless pursuit.

Before entering the Spirit Battle Pavilion, Chu Feng made an unexpected move.

Right in front of the main entrance, he leapt atop one of the hundred-foot stone statues.

“Old scoundrel Eastern King, Chu Feng has returned alive! Come and cut me down if you dare!”

He shouted this three times, his voice thunderous, echoing for miles.

With those words, the area around him fell silent. The soldiers atop the Pavilion towers, the passersby before its gates—all were stunned, as if turned to stone. Who was this man, daring to challenge the Eastern King so brazenly?

After those three shouts, Chu Feng felt a surge of exhilaration. As for fear—he felt none at all. Who cared about some so-called holy spirit warrior?

He jumped down from the statue, flashed a smile at the dumbfounded crowd, then rode straight into the Pavilion.

As soon as he left, the area erupted. People could scarcely believe their ears: someone had called the Eastern King an old scoundrel, and “come and cut me down” was nothing short of open provocation.

Though most didn’t understand the context, they found Chu Feng’s boldness remarkable—he did not fear the holy spirit warriors at all.

In no time, his name spread like wildfire, stirring waves of discussion.

These days, the Eastern King’s expression had been particularly grim. Just days ago, his agents had located the squad’s remains—a burial site for all one hundred.

The squad’s annihilation, once suspected, was now confirmed.

Upon learning this, the Eastern King’s face was ashen, as if he’d been slapped hard.

He realized Chu Feng had likely escaped, and further pursuit was nearly impossible.

The dignified Eastern King had sent a hundred sixth-rank earth spirit warriors to hunt a fifth-rank—if word got out, it would be a laughingstock.

But not only did he fail to kill his target, his hundred men were slain instead. If that news spread, it would truly be a farce.

Then, today, an arrogant voice reached him—not directly, but through others.

Naturally, it was Chu Feng’s speech at the Pavilion’s gates.

When the Eastern King heard, his whole body trembled with rage, his face dark as iron, and he nearly spat blood in fury.

How dare a mere earth spirit warrior insult him so brazenly!

The Eastern King’s clan was beside themselves; this was a humiliation beyond measure. Some nearly rushed out to seize Chu Feng, but the Eastern King forbade anyone from acting.

He was nearly mad with rage, but he swallowed it, knowing that escalation would only further disgrace him. If the elders learned he’d broken protocol, they’d surely side with Chu Feng.

Chu Feng returned to the Heavenly Camp, with twenty-one days left until the Holy Trial.

Long Yue had yet to return, but Chu Feng expected her soon—after all, as the strongest in the Heavenly Camp, she wouldn’t miss the Holy Trial.

That night, Chu Feng sought out Xiao Yue.

Xiao Yue was startled upon seeing him. The news of Chu Feng’s bold insult to the Eastern King had already spread, and Xiao Yue instantly realized it must be him.

“You troublemaker! Why are you confronting the Eastern King directly now?” Xiao Yue asked, worried, knowing that to provoke such a powerful holy spirit warrior was unwise.

“No choice. I was forced into it.” Chu Feng replied.

He recounted his experiences over the past year, and Xiao Yue’s expression flickered between anger and shock.

The Eastern King’s hundred warriors were slaughtered, and Xiao Fan’s nine suffered a crushing defeat. Hearing this, Xiao Yue felt as if he were dreaming—so much had changed in just over a year, and Chu Feng had become so powerful.

“Perform well in the Holy Trial. The more exceptional you are, the more attention you’ll receive. Then, if the Eastern King’s clan wants to deal with you, they’ll have to think twice.” Xiao Yue’s final advice, believing the Eastern King himself would not personally target a junior.

Before leaving, Chu Feng asked Xiao Yue to adjust his Violet Battle Garment, making it fit perfectly.

Whether Chu Feng had killed Duan Liming and the others remained uncertain, but the Eastern King’s actions clearly violated the Pavilion’s principles. Chu Feng’s public display had drawn attention from all sides; the elders would surely take notice, making it even harder for the Eastern King’s clan to act, at least before Chu Feng joined the army. For now, he was relatively safe.

Chu Feng’s uproar was significant—many awaited the Eastern King’s response, but were disappointed.

In the following days, there was no reaction from the Eastern King’s city, leaving the people puzzled. Who was Chu Feng, and had the Eastern King truly swallowed his pride?

They did not know that Chu Feng held the Sacred Order of Spirit Battle; even the Eastern King’s clan, with their vast power, could not touch him, only elevating his status. The Eastern King realized this, and ordered his clan to lay low for the time being.

During this period, the Grand Elder summoned Chu Feng, naturally aware of the commotion. After hearing everything, the Grand Elder simply dismissed him, though inwardly he was deeply astonished. The other elders who learned the truth were equally shocked; none had expected Chu Feng to be so formidable—comparable to a sixth-rank earth spirit warrior, and invincible among them if he used spiritual attacks.

After meeting the Grand Elder, Chu Feng returned to the Heavenly Camp and finally met Mo Chen. The two faced each other in silence, coldly locking eyes.

Mo Chen appeared calm, but his heart was in turmoil. When he heard of Chu Feng’s return, his expression was as ugly as could be.

In truth, Mo Chen was the one who killed Duan Liming and the others.

He always considered himself superior and looked down upon Chu Feng, but Chu Feng’s remarkable achievements had made him one of the strongest newcomers, joining the Heavenly Camp—surpassing even Yu Wenfeng, who possessed the Thunder Spirit Body.

To see someone he despised close the gap so quickly stirred deep jealousy in Mo Chen, just as he envied Mo Xuan.