Chapter Eighteen: The Candlelight Battlefield (4)

"Did he win?" Hua Sheng asked.

"It seems he's in the lead for now," replied the Little Lord of the Supreme. He then extended his hand to sense the temperature around them and said, "There are no candle flames left in this building. We need to head out and search again."

The two of them carefully descended the stairs in the darkness. As they stepped outside, Hua Sheng glanced up at the fiery words suspended in the sky.

"Number of challengers: nine hundred and three.
Number of candle flames: two."

Only two left!

Unease crept into Hua Sheng’s heart. If both he and the Little Lord of the Supreme wished to advance, they would need two candle flames. But how could they possibly acquire them, avoiding the nine hundred other disciples? For now, he could think of no solution.

Before he could ponder further, the number of challengers dropped again—down to eight hundred and seventy. Clearly, the competition among the disciples and the candle flame traps hidden in the mist were still steadily eliminating participants.

Both the Little Lord of the Supreme and Hua Sheng extended their hands, focusing to sense the faint warmth atop Tianshan’s summit. After the time it takes for a stick of incense to burn, they had found nothing.

"This makes no sense! Did you feel nothing either?" Hua Sheng asked.

"No. Within dozens of miles, it seems impossible to sense such faint candle flames," replied the Little Lord.

"That can't be right. The count above says there are still two left. If they’re real, how could we not sense them?"

The Little Lord pondered aloud, "It’s not that the flames have no warmth, but that they’ve been cut off."

"Could they be hidden in some cave?"

"As long as air flows, they could be sensed even in a cave."

If the Little Lord was right, someone was deliberately hiding the flames. On this vast Tianshan, concealing a few flames with immortality arts would be child’s play.

They continued their search on the mountain, occasionally running into other disciples on the same quest, but none seemed to have any luck.

After walking for about two sticks of incense, Hua Sheng spotted a crowd of academy disciples in Daoist robes gathered in the distance. They were arguing heatedly. He tugged the Little Lord along and hurried over.

As they approached, a loud shout rose from the crowd.

"You must be mad! That’s outrageous!"

The crowd grew restless.

"Such greed!"

"Even if you advance, it’s not worth it!"

"Forget him."

Angry and exasperated voices filled the air.

Coming closer, Hua Sheng saw over a hundred people encircling a male disciple—broad-shouldered and thickset, with a smug, indifferent expression. He raised his hand for silence, then declared, "Look up, all of you. The two remaining candle flames are in my possession."

Hua Sheng’s heart eased somewhat at learning the flames' whereabouts.

But the burly disciple announced, "The price was ten thousand per flame just now, but that’s no longer valid. Now it’s one hundred thousand per flame!"

The crowd erupted. So the remaining flames were in this man’s hands, and he was selling them at an exorbitant price.

To Hua Sheng, the sum was astronomical—utterly out of reach, equivalent to three or four years’ expenses for a regular disciple. Such a price was prohibitive not only for him but for almost everyone.

"A price like that! Has anyone actually bought from him?" Hua Sheng asked a nearby disciple.

"Yes! At ten thousand each, he sold a few. This Tiger Spirit is truly black-hearted. He grabbed several flames, snuffed most of the others out with a roar, then came to the summit to sell. He started at five thousand a flame, and the price increased with every sale. When the total suddenly dropped by dozens, it seemed both remaining flames were in his hands. Now it’s a hundred thousand."

"So that detestable Tiger Spirit is him!" Hua Sheng recalled their earlier encounter with him and was surprised to meet him again here. He continued, "But he doesn’t seem to have anywhere to hide the flames on him."

The disciple replied, "They aren’t on him. Whenever someone buys one, he uses a teleportation art to fetch a flame."

The Little Lord of the Supreme said, "If he’s using a teleportation art, then as long as I’m touching him when he casts it, I have a way to follow him to its hiding place."

The disciple replied, "We’ve all thought of that. But Tiger Spirit is cunning—there’s no way he’d let anyone touch him and risk exposing the hiding place."

Hua Sheng glanced up at the sky, at the number two beside the candle flames, and after a moment’s thought, led the Little Lord out of the crowd.

"How much money do you have in your account?" Hua Sheng suddenly asked.

"Why such a private question?"

"Do you have a hundred thousand?"

"Who has that kind of pocket money!"

"No, no," said Hua Sheng, "you don’t actually need to have it—just to look as if you do."

The Little Lord pulled out the Ruihua Treasure Mirror, opened his account, and drew a talisman on the back. Instantly, the mirror displayed a balance: ninety-nine million, nine hundred and ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine.

"Is this what you mean?" he asked.

"Exactly! But you don’t need that much, just show a few hundred thousand."

"But this only fools ourselves. Tiger Spirit is a businessman—payment and goods must change hands. I can’t actually transfer the money; it’ll be exposed. You can’t forge Sacred Realm coins so easily."

Hua Sheng tucked his hand into his robe and said, "The other day, I went to the Pear Garden Center with Weiyu for a show."

"Is this really the time to brag about that?"

"I haven’t finished! Why are you so impatient?" Hua Sheng produced a bracelet. "I realized that after leaving the Center, this bracelet could be removed. I forgot to return the Linglong Ring."

"That’s a sealing bracelet?"

"Yes."

"You want to seal Tiger Spirit’s immortal arts?"

"Exactly. If I’d remembered, I would’ve used it on Tianji Zi earlier."

"It wouldn’t work on him. This bracelet is single-use; its magic weakens after each use. Too powerful a spellcaster can shrug it off. If it were new, it might restrain Tianji Zi briefly, but now it’s just a trinket to him."

"And for Tiger Spirit?"

"For an ordinary disciple, it should work."

"I need your help, then. You’re more skilled—cast a spell on this bracelet so Tiger Spirit can’t remove it."

The Little Lord took the bracelet, muttered an incantation, and pressed both hands to it. A faint glow arose, and the bracelet opened at the sides.

"I’ve placed a possession spell on it," he said. "Whoever wears it won’t be able to remove it right away. But it’s still a single-use item, and it’s already been used once. It might fail at any moment, so be cautious."

"Understood," Hua Sheng replied, taking back the bracelet and whispering a plan in the Little Lord’s ear.

"That simple?" asked the Little Lord.

"Just do as I say," Hua Sheng replied, a sly smile on his lips.

The Little Lord strode toward Tiger Spirit, who was sweating profusely as he argued with the crowd. The Little Lord’s sudden arrival startled him.

"Enough! I’ll buy the candle flame!" the Little Lord declared, silencing the crowd.

Before the commotion could rise again, he produced the Ruihua Treasure Mirror and said to Tiger Spirit, "You said two flames at a hundred thousand each—you keep one, I’ll buy the other. What’s your account number?"

Tiger Spirit stared, suspicious. "You have that much money?"

The Little Lord thrust the Treasure Mirror into his face. "Look carefully! Buying your flames is barely a drop in the bucket for me!"

Tiger Spirit glanced at the endless string of zeroes before the mirror was withdrawn. He wiped his brow; he’d tossed out his price only half-seriously, never expecting such a wealthy buyer. Now, he regretted not setting it higher.

"That was a hundred thousand per flame just now. But now, the price has gone up!"

"What?" The Little Lord glared at him.

"One hundred fifty—no, two hundred thousand per flame!"

The crowd exploded with indignation. Perhaps feeling their outrage, Tiger Spirit coughed but did not yield. "Two hundred thousand. Take it or leave it."

The Little Lord thought that agreeing too quickly would look suspicious, so he said, "You’re insatiable. Fine, let’s compromise—one hundred fifty thousand. Take it or leave it. If not, I’m done with this farce and going to sleep."

He stretched lazily as he spoke.

"One hundred fifty thousand..." Tiger Spirit hesitated.

"I’m leaving then," the Little Lord said, turning away.

"Fine, I’ll sell!" Tiger Spirit relented—after all, it was more than he’d expected.

Yet, the transaction should be concluded with cash and goods changing hands. The Little Lord glanced around for Hua Sheng but didn’t see him.

Tiger Spirit quickly produced his Treasure Mirror and said, "Here’s my account. Transfer the money and I’ll take you to the flame."

"I’ll pay when I see the flame," the Little Lord stalled, still searching for Hua Sheng.

"No. If I take you to the flame, what if you just snatch it? Besides, I need to keep one for myself."

"Then you’ll miss a big sale," the Little Lord said, wearing his usual nonchalant expression.

"Fine, transfer a third first—fifty thousand. Otherwise, I doubt you even have the money," said Tiger Spirit suspiciously.

The Little Lord didn’t even flinch. "No."

"Fine! Thirty thousand! Otherwise, I’m not selling!"

Seeing Tiger Spirit cornered, the Little Lord nodded. "Alright, give me your Treasure Mirror."

"Wait!" Tiger Spirit recoiled. "I’m not letting go of this, or who knows what spell you’ll cast on it?"

"At least let me see your account number," the Little Lord said, secretly thinking: Where the blazes are you, Hua Sheng? Am I to keep up this charade forever?

Tiger Spirit held out the mirror tightly, showing the account number.

"Can’t see, closer," the Little Lord demanded.

Tiger Spirit extended his hand further.

"Still can’t see," the Little Lord stalled again.

"Eh?" Tiger Spirit reached out once more. "Why can’t you just move closer—"

Before he could finish, a golden flash appeared at his wrist. Instinctively, he recoiled and shouted, "Linglong Ring! Who—?"

Hua Sheng leapt out from nowhere. "You greedy fat cat! Let me teach you a lesson!" With that, Hua Sheng swung his fist.

Tiger Spirit shouted a spell in panic, trying to retaliate, but his immortal arts were instantly sealed. He grabbed at the ring with his free hand, but the Little Lord’s added spell held it fast, no matter how he struggled.

In a flash, Hua Sheng’s fist stopped right at Tiger Spirit’s eyelashes. He grinned. "Quick reflexes. Just kidding."

Tiger Spirit bellowed and tried to transform into his tiger form, but the Linglong Ring suppressed it. Only a faint sizzling could be heard—he could not change in the slightest. About to curse, he discovered that at some point Hua Sheng had bound him with a rope spell. Hua Sheng took hold of the rope and, soaring into the air, dragged Tiger Spirit a hundred meters away.

The crowd gasped, ready to give chase, but Hua Sheng shouted, "Misty smoke, now! By order of the spell!"

With a bang, thick smoke billowed behind him, and Hua Sheng and Tiger Spirit vanished into the cloud.