Chapter 676: Hidden Wind

The nascent sword spirit could not communicate. Meanwhile, Dragon Bird was almost in tears.

“You fool, you said yourself that each of those arrows is irreplaceable, yet you’re still shooting them around so wastefully! You didn’t even bother retrieving the one you used to save Wan Dongliu earlier, and now you’re shooting another at random! What a spendthrift! Utterly wasteful!”

Feeling rather heroic a moment ago, Zhao Changhe nearly fell off his horse in disbelief.

Who even are you to lecture me like you’re running my household?

That said, the rebuke from Dragon Bird made him reflect. He did feel a pang of regret. Those arrows, carved from Dragon Soul Wood, numbered only two or three dozen—hardly enough to squander carelessly. He could only hope to retrieve the two that had fallen near the city once the battle was over.

But that was reliant on them winning... With him being chased away like this, he could not even participate in the battle over there. The outcome would now rest entirely on Cui Yuanyong and Wan Dongliu’s shoulders.

Surely they won’t lose, right?

In the current chaotic world, there were few worthy allies, and among the younger generation, notable talents were even rarer. Yet here, they had two. Add to that Yangyang from Qinghe, Xue Canghai with the Blood God Array Plate, and the hidden agents they had planted in Langya long ago...

In any case, he could not just turn around and fight now. He had just fought beyond his limits, and no matter how many pills he took to recover, it was impossible for him to immediately return to his peak. Moreover, both River and Stars and Dragon Bird had expended a lot of energy and needed time to recover. And most importantly, he did not know much about his opponent, while his own techniques had been observed for a while. Recklessly engaging now would be a losing proposition.

Zhao Changhe maintained his composure, using the pursuit to gauge his opponent’s strength while buying time for the Dragon Bird and River of Stars to recover.

The pursuer was formidable, gradually closing the distance. Though only slightly faster than Snow-Treading Crow, it was enough to make catching up seem inevitable, albeit slow. Still, this kind of speed was abnormal—the other party was not running but flying. What kind of power could propel someone to fly as fast as a dragon horse?

The pursuer seemed relaxed, his posture oddly elegant.

If he’s using some form of profound control... Could it be over the wind?

With an unhurried tone, the pursuer spoke, “You can flee for now, but ultimately, you will be caught. Meanwhile, you’re unable to join the battle at Langya. Without someone like you as a pillar of support, they may face disastrous defeat. Is this really worth it? It might be better to stick to your words. When two warriors meet on a narrow path, victory belongs to the one with the courage to step forward.”

Despite being likened to rats and dogs earlier, the pursuer seemed unbothered, his tone calm and composed.

Zhao Changhe retorted without hesitation, “What I do is none of your damn business.”

That clearly caught the pursuer off guard, leaving him speechless for a moment before he managed to respond, “In a way, it actually is my business. I’d prefer you to gain the upper hand in these power struggles.”

Zhao Changhe was taken aback. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Because mortal alliances are just a weakness that drags you down. If you were always roaming freely like you are now, those seeking the Heavenly Tome would have a much harder time tracking you down. But with you tethered by attachments and concerns, mired in mortal conflicts, it’s a blessing for those of us who are after the Heavenly Tome.”

Zhao Changhe fell silent.

These words struck a sensitive spot within him. Once, Zhao Changhe had roamed freely across the world, a wandering soul unburdened by worldly attachments. Back then, those who sought his life could not even find him, let alone strike him down. Poor Frost Hawk, now chilling in the underworld, knew that best.

But the moment he became invested in the mountains and rivers before him, trouble began to pile up. It reminded him of Xia Longyuan’s struggles: if one sought the pinnacle of martial arts, why shackle oneself to the throne?

Perhaps this was why Chichi and Wanzhuang had let him leave the capital alone, even after so much hesitation. They must have understood this truth.

The pursuer, seeing that all his words could not persuade Zhao Changhe into a duel, sighed in mild exasperation. This posturing and running behavior clearly annoyed him. “The Asura King’s horse... is quite intriguing.”

Zhao Changhe glanced back. “What’s the matter? Don’t have a horse of your own?”

The pursuer did not realize Zhao Changhe was mocking him and chuckled. “Forgive me. I’ve slept too long and I have few possessions.”

Zhao Changhe couldn’t help but laugh. “So now you want everything you see?”

“Not quite. As you said, I’m only interested in the Heavenly Tome.” The man, surprisingly, began speaking on history. “In our time, it was not uncommon to ride exotic beasts, but it’s rare to see someone elevate an ordinary horse to this extent. Such feats come with a steep price. From what I can tell, you poured your dragon qi into this horse.”

“My kingdom for a horse!” Zhao Changhe laughed. “You should understand the reason better than most.”

“Indeed,” the pursuer said with a faint air of melancholy. “Kingdoms and mortal concerns are fleeting, mere clouds in the wind. Only power is eternal. Still, it’s rare to see someone so sentimental about a horse.”

Zhao Changhe smirked. “It’s being put to good use, isn’t it? Aren’t you tired of chasing me yet?”

“...” The pursuer did not answer. Was he tired? Not really. But he also knew Zhao Changhe was using this prolonged chase to recover his strength. The longer it dragged on, the more advantageous it became for Zhao Changhe. Who would have thought, when sneaking in to reap the spoils, that Zhao Changhe would have a flying horse?

Zhao Changhe’s decision to keep Snow-Treading Crow by his side was proving to be a stroke of genius.

Glancing back at the increasingly frustrated pursuer, Zhao Changhe suddenly asked, “What’s your name?”

The man said calmly, “Hidden Wind. I doubt you’ve heard of me.”

Indeed, Zhao Changhe had never heard of it. None of the records he had come across mentioned this name. Still, it was clear from the man’s abilities that his abilities were related to the wind.

With no real purpose, Zhao Changhe continued, “As far as I know, your era didn’t have a Heavenly Tome. How do you know about it?”

“That’s not entirely true. Everyone knew that the Heavenly Tome was under the control of the Heavenly Dao, beyond the reach of mortals. After the Heavenly Dao collapsed, fragments of the Heavenly Tome scattered. In those final moments, some attempted to seize its remnants but failed to do so in time... And then there’s someone like you—a mere mortal who, in two years, has gotten to the third layer of the Profound Mysteries. Such achievements are unheard of in history.”

As Hidden Wind spoke, his eyes burned with fervent light. It was evident he attributed all of Zhao Changhe’s extraordinary feats to the Heavenly Tome.

Zhao Changhe ignored him, though his thoughts wandered to the past.

It isn’t entirely true that no one succeeded. The Night Emperor managed to obtain the page pertaining to the general outline of martial arts and left it with Shuanghua... Which, in and of itself, is quite strange. Why did he entrust the Heavenly Tome to her instead of using it himself?

As if reading his mind, Hidden Wind’s next words seemed to address the very question. “Too much power may not necessarily be a good thing. During the collapse of the last era, it wasn’t just the heaven and earth that collapsed—there seemed to be some special attention given to powerful beings as well. The four idols of antiquity, once so glorious, all perished; not one survived. Even the fate of the Night Emperor remains uncertain. As for the mighty Sea Emperor, if not for collaborating with Hai Pinglan to harness the power of faith, he’d likely still be a wisp of a remnant soul, barely clinging to existence in the ocean depths. Meanwhile, those of us whom they once dismissed as insignificant have suffered far less...”

Zhao Changhe’s mind stirred at this revelation.

It was possible that the collapse indeed had a targeted aspect to it. So far, other than the Sea Emperor, who had revived with the aid of faith, there had been no signs of figures like the Sword Emperor—at the second layer or above of the Profound Control Realm—reappearing. The so-called gods and demons Zhao Changhe had encountered, such as Xue Wu, Duoluo, and Desolate Calamity, all belonged to the first layer of the Profound Control Realm. Strictly speaking, they did not truly qualify as gods or demons.

Perhaps back then, the stronger they were, the quicker they fell—or the more severe their injuries. The varied intensity of the “purge” they faced seemed to explain the results.

This led to another thought: perhaps the Night Emperor foresaw such an outcome and judged that Shuanghua had a higher chance of survival or that she would awaken sooner. Thus, he entrusted the Heavenly Tome to her, believing she could use it to rise again. But Shuanghua had no will to live on, and she left behind naught but the sorrowful wail of Iceheart.

These thoughts flashed through Zhao Changhe’s mind, but his curiosity prevailed. “Why are you telling me all this? Are you trying to warn me not to cultivate too quickly or I might bring disaster upon myself?”

“Precisely,” Hidden Wind replied. “You know what they say, the tallest tree in the forest is the first to be felled by the wind. Beyond that, your monopolization of so many pages of the Heavenly Tome is contrary to the Heavenly Dao. The Heavenly Dao takes from the surplus to replenish the deficient; you should be aware of this principle. If the Heavenly Dao still existed, you would undoubtedly be marked for elimination. Sharing the bounty more evenly might be the safer path.”

There was a certain logic to this, Zhao Changhe had to admit. But he didn’t buy into it.

You just said power is eternal, and now you’re trying to sell me on this nonsense? Who do you think you’re fooling?

This attempt at shaking his resolve through clever words revealed something: Hidden Wind was not entirely confident in dealing with him. Clearly, Zhao Changhe’s earlier battle with the Desolate Calamity had left an impression. Nobody wanted to engage in a life-or-death struggle with such an opponent, especially when another opportunist might be lurking nearby, ready to swoop in.

One decisive strike to settle things, rather than dealing with endless harassment—that’s the way to go.

Zhao Changhe thought. If he could send this guy packing too, it might buy him a year or more of peace. At the very least, others would think twice before coming after him.

As these thoughts took shape, his peripheral vision caught Hidden Wind raising a hand.

After this prolonged chase, Hidden Wind had finally closed the distance for an effective strike!

Whoosh!

Zhao Changhe barely heard the sound before instinctively ducking low against Snow-Treading Crow’s saddle. A razor-sharp wind blade grazed past his head.

The battle had begun!