Chapter 71: Provoking the Dark Emperor

Duan Shaofeng had left the Heaven and Earth Tower! The news spread like wildfire throughout the Card Synthesis Academy.

“Duan Shaofeng is courting death!” Not far from the Heaven and Earth Tower, atop a teaching building, a young man leaned against the railing, a mocking smile playing on his lips as he toyed with a gold-edged card, as though he could already envision Duan Shaofeng’s miserable fate.

“Master, shouldn’t we do something?” The person standing beside him asked in confusion. The young man glanced at him lazily, then snorted, “Do what? Can you outmatch the Young Emperor?”

“But, Master, if Duan Shaofeng suffers a crushing defeat this time, who else could possibly restrain the Young Emperor?” As the brains of the operation, he felt it was his duty to understand the academy’s dynamics. Yet, he still overestimated his own intelligence, and underestimated others’. The one addressed as ‘Master’ regarded him with a half-smile, recognizing the same mistake as those before him. Achieving a small victory while caught between the Young Emperor and the Shadow Monarch had made them arrogant, thinking they could contend with those two. But to the Young Emperor and the Shadow Monarch, they were nothing more than clowns. When those two decided to truly act, these self-assured ones would be the first to be dealt with. Trying to play the fisherman’s game was hopelessly naïve.

The card in his hand flickered through the air like a golden butterfly dancing at his fingertips. The young master lowered his gaze. “Pack up and go home.”

“Master!” The young man beside him was so startled by this casual command that he fell to his knees. “Master, I was wrong! Don’t send me back to the family—I’ll die, please!”

But the young man’s pitiful cries couldn’t move his master. The young master leapt onto the railing, arms spread wide, and soared from the tenth story like a great eagle.

He landed lightly on the ground. The wind brushed past his ears as he crossed his arms, waiting. After a moment, sensing something, he looked up to see a boy as thin as a bamboo pole approaching on a flying card beast. “Skinny, you’re here!” the young master called cheerfully. The skinny boy simply nodded. “I am.”

“Are you here to see how Duan Shaofeng courts death?” the young master teased, but Skinny merely nodded, unsmiling. They stood together, waiting. Soon, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the corridor, and a brawny youth built like an ox appeared before them.

“Master, Skinny, you’re so early?” The burly youth’s voice rang out like a great bell, so loud that even the two who were used to it rubbed their ears uncomfortably. The young master shook his head. “Fatty, you’re just late.”

Fatty thumped his hands together, and the massive axe slung over his shoulder turned into a card that slipped into his belt. He nodded. “Since I’m late, can we go now?”

The young master nodded. “Of course. We were just waiting for you.” Skinny nodded gravely.

All three were about the same height, but with the young master’s average build, one seemed too thin, the other too burly. These three were infamously known as the Devil’s Trio of the Card Synthesis Academy.

As representative as the Devil’s Trio were, even they were eager to be on the front lines and witness the unfolding events. Yet those a rank above them had different views and reactions to Duan Shaofeng’s departure from the Heaven and Earth Tower. Their complex expressions left their subordinates guessing, more cautious than ever. In the Academy, caution was never amiss.

Among these top figures, two stood out. One was the Sixth Imperial Consort—Shi Feixuan, a powerful woman. Among all the Young Emperor’s consorts, aside from the Imperial Consort-to-be, Shen Qingjue, Shi Feixuan was the most enigmatic and formidable contender for the title. Before the Young Emperor made his choice, many placed their bets on the Sixth Consort, and her supporters were numerous. Shi Feixuan was a woman shrouded in mystery. Unlike the lotus-like Shen Qingjue, she was more akin to a poisonous datura bloom, a poppy that beguiled all.

When Shi Feixuan received the news, a cryptic smile graced her peerless face beneath her white veil. She lightly stroked a delicate petal in her hand, her lips parting like an orchid, “I see.” As she departed, her two attendants, accustomed to such scenes, watched as the once-vivid petal withered in an instant. Though used to it, they still regarded her departing figure with awe.

The other was, of course, Shen Qingjue—the Academy’s Imperial Consort-to-be. Owing to both her connection to the Young Emperor and her own skill, she was seen as the third most powerful figure in the Academy. No one questioned her right to the title; her reputation alone guaranteed her respect, and her personable nature made people willing to offer it. Most crucially, her abilities were formidable. Just how formidable, no one could say, but everyone knew that three years ago, she managed to spar with the Young Emperor for half an hour without him drawing on any killing techniques. Half an hour might seem trivial, but to those who understood the Young Emperor’s terrifying power, it was anything but.

For that half hour alone, Shen Qingjue had earned a place among the top ten on the Academy’s power rankings.

Shen Qingjue stood as her subordinate reported the situation in detail. Hearing of the Devil’s Trio’s appearance, her expression didn’t flicker. When told of the higher-ups’ shifting reactions, she only raised a slender brow. But when she learned that the Sixth Imperial Consort, Shi Feixuan, seemed to be taking action, her brows knitted. She laced her long fingers beneath her chin, her eyes bright as flowing water—clear and untainted, eyes that seemed to distill all ugliness. To strangers, they radiated kindness and innocence; to those who knew her, they were terrifying. Yet even knowing these eyes were not wholly pure, one could not help but be enchanted.

Coupled with her lotus-like, untouched-by-mortal-dust aura, many felt that she did not belong in this world. With her outstanding appearance and methods, Shen Qingjue had made her way step by step to her current position, thinking of things others could not fathom. She had no retreat. At her level, someone else’s survival meant her end. So she could never withdraw. Her seeming detachment came not from disdain, but from never wanting for anything. Now, with the rise of Shi Feixuan and the arrival of a new junior student, she felt threatened. If there must be a reckoning, it would be others who paid the price. Who would willingly yield?

Just moments before, Shen Qingjue had stood at the railing, watching that junior student step through the Academy gates. She couldn’t explain why, but she felt that he would be an even greater challenge than Shi Feixuan—her greatest rival, her enemy. Where he existed, she could not. Neither Shi Feixuan nor that junior student—there was no room for both.

She turned to face her followers, seeing the fervor in their eyes. With a trace of resignation in her own, she recognized that she had no choice but to fight. If she failed, those who followed her would perish as well. She no longer cared for her own fate, but what of those around her? Their support had pushed her to the fore; now, she could only press onward—for herself, and the powers behind her.

“Let’s go.” Her voice was tinged with helplessness, yet also acceptance.

Shen Qingjue watched for what would come next, while the Sixth Imperial Consort, Shi Feixuan, smiled more deeply, her gaze shifting to the Celestial Tower. What will you do? Rather than watching Duan Shaofeng, everyone was watching the Young Emperor. What would he do?

Long Yin had sensed something was off the moment he entered the Card Synthesis Academy. Underlying currents surged everywhere. Though his expression beneath the mask didn’t change, he sighed inwardly. If his ancestor weren’t imprisoned somewhere in this Academy, he would never have come. Life was strange; fate could not be avoided. His immense spiritual power made him acutely aware of the Academy’s hidden dangers, to the point where it gave him a headache. He truly had no desire for the spotlight, yet none of these people seemed to understand that.

He walked on, his gaze calm as it swept the surroundings. Suddenly, a fierce surge of energy pierced through his mask, stinging his skin like a blade. Long Yin lowered his eyes. So it had come, after all. Though he sensed the danger, Long Yin stood his ground, still as a pine, betraying no fear. Indeed, he was unruffled—he knew Little Hammer would catch the incoming fist and send his attacker flying with a single kick.

A fist appeared before his eyes. “Roar!” The earth-shattering bellow of a bear rang out. Little Hammer lunged forward, its massive paw crashing into the attacker’s fist with a sound like clashing steel. The other was knocked back with a single blow. Little Hammer took another step and kicked—not connecting, but the force of the wind alone sent the attacker flying. The onlookers saw only a black dot vanish into the horizon. The pet-cum-bodyguard, the Mountain Crusher Bear, returned to stand respectfully behind the slender youth, who hadn’t moved a muscle during the fight—not even a flutter of his clothes. The crowd’s regard for him changed instantly. A true expert! Though the exchange was brief, all had seen it—brilliant, and he remained unscathed. More incredible still, they had all felt that violent surge, yet his clothes remained untouched. What did this mean? It wasn’t the bear that was formidable, but the youth himself. Such silent and effortless defense—no one wanted to provoke such an indomitable opponent.

Long Yin knew the attacker was a mere nobody, not even an appetizer. Silently, he retracted his psychic shield and continued forward. But after only a few steps, a violent gust forced him back half a step. Danger! Long Yin’s face changed; he wanted to warn Little Hammer not to take the blow head-on, but it was too late—the assailant gave no chance. Little Hammer recognized the threat but knew that without him, Long Yin would be in peril. Gritting his teeth, he took the blow. But this time, with just a single punch, it was Little Hammer who suffered—a massive crater opened in the ground. Little Hammer felt every bone in his body shatter. He lay unmoving, only spared from being pulverized by Long Yin’s quick use of spiritual energy to intercept part of the attack.

Long Yin stared at his opponent, shocked and furious. If not for his intervention, Little Hammer would have been done for. Duan Shaofeng burst out laughing, “Not bad, not bad! At least S-rank spiritual power! Impressive! Without that shield, your little pet would be dead. Excellent! Now, I can really go all out!” He swung his arms, eager for battle. He’d come to see what the youth looked like, but now knew only a fight would reveal his face.

Long Yin’s gaze was icy. From the mental feedback, he realized his opponent was none other than the Shadow Monarch of the Card Synthesis Academy. Good—his second challenger was the Shadow Monarch himself. Now he was truly angry. Training Little Hammer half to death was one thing, but having someone else nearly kill him was another matter entirely. His voice was cold, “You will pay the price for your actions.”

The spring-like clarity of his voice astonished all, even Duan Shaofeng. Two things surprised him: the tone, and the voice itself. For a second, Duan Shaofeng felt as though his heart had skipped a beat. Just from his voice alone, he knew the face behind the mask must be breathtaking. The desire to see his true face grew even stronger.

The thought that such a voice would warn him only made Duan Shaofeng’s lips curl wider. How interesting. Whoever this person was, Young Emperor’s or not, he was determined to have him. His eyes on Long Yin nearly blazed with fire.

Anyone who knew Long Yin would realize, seeing him like this, that his opponent was doomed.

Yet Duan Shaofeng, oblivious, continued to taunt, “Hey, take off the mask. If I’m in a good mood, maybe I won’t break your ribs.” Though he was intrigued, he wouldn’t let the warning pass lightly with so many eyes watching. Death could be spared, but pain would not.

Long Yin couldn’t care less about the self-satisfied fool. He calmly adopted a fighting stance, making it clear—enough talk, let’s fight.

The atmosphere crackled with tension. The mysterious new student versus the Shadow Monarch—this would be a battle to remember!

Author’s Note: Over 4,000 words this chapter! Am I alive again? O(n_n)O Hahaha~ Won’t you leave a comment? Come on, don’t lurk—leave a review for me!