Chapter Seventy-Seven: The Struggle for the Fire Serpent Fruit

The residences of the disciples of Celestial Pillar Peak were all situated at the foot of the mountain, dozens of thatched cottages scattered along the shores of Crescent Lake. After settling in, Lin Feng gradually became familiar with the environment and the habits of his senior brothers. Aside from the daily morning lessons and paying respects to their master, everyone kept largely to themselves, either absorbed in cultivation or riding their swords out to fulfill some mission, with little conversation among them. There were only two ways to leave the mountain: one was to soar into the sky on a sword, the other was to row a boat across Crescent Lake. Lin Feng, unable to take either route, could only devote himself to cultivation on the mountain.

Beyond the Spirit Treasure Pavilion, Lin Feng visited the other three halls. The Hall of Literary Prowess was a place for books and the crafting of talismans. It had the most stewards, each proud of their particular skills—whether in making Thousand-Mile Escape Talismans, Thunderbane Talismans, or other specialized arts. These people were the finest in their respective fields. The Crane Cauldron Chamber housed a dozen alchemical furnaces, where inner sect disciples refined pills and mystical weapons, learning the arts of fire control and item crafting; only three stewards managed this hall. The last, the Hall of Valor, was guarded by a single person and filled with towering bronze and golden statues. From the dust and marks on the floor, it was clear these had not been used in ages. The martial spirit was fading, and these strength-testing figures stood forgotten in the mountain’s depths.

Seated by Crescent Lake, Lin Feng felt a deep tranquility. The initial wonder and unease of arrival had given way to routine. Unbeknownst to him, half a month had passed. In hopes of winning Yan Dongjue’s favor, he practiced swordsmanship every day until midnight, and before dawn, he would run to the lake to practice again until morning lessons began. Yet, in front of all the disciples, Yan Dongjue coldly rebuked him: “If you do not seek mastery of the Dao but only train in swordplay, what use is it?”

“That’s right. When a flying sword comes at you, no matter how skilled you are, you can only close your eyes and await death... But, Master, if I don’t practice swordsmanship, I fear I’ll never find your favor,” Lin Feng thought, sighing inwardly. He began circulating the Longevity Art, only stopping after completing three great cycles.

“Heh, after all these days and still no progress? You must be truly dense,” sneered Li Chi from nearby.

“Undistracted, undistracted...” Lin Feng did his utmost to ignore him, his gaze lowering, mind turning inward, gradually reaching a state of emptiness, until even Li Chi’s voice faded away.

He turned his inner vision to his elixir field, where spiritual energy surged like clouds and mist. But transforming this energy into liquid seemed an impossible task—should he just compress it? The idea flashed through his mind, and he tried to gather the energy toward the center of his elixir field, eventually forming a mass the size of a pigeon egg. But no matter how hard he tried, it would not shrink further; any lapse in focus and the energy would burst apart like floodwaters breaching a dike.

He failed. With a sigh, Lin Feng stood and gazed at the autumn waters of the lake, staring for a long time. “No way forward, no path to follow—cultivating the Heavenly Dao is truly a journey of hardship, with every step bristling with thorns.” Shaking his head, he walked toward the summit. The iron chain bridge on the northwest side of the Celestial Pillar platform led to the Illusory Rainbow Cavern. Every day, Lin Feng would come here to look out, but beyond the deep mists, there was nothing but a vast whiteness.

Suddenly, someone slapped his shoulder. Lin Feng spun around, but saw no one. Turning back, a disheveled head dangled upside down before him, eyes wide and glaring—startling him half to death.

“Hahaha, don’t be afraid, junior brother, it’s your second senior brother.” Hanging in midair, Qian Cai laughed heartily as he dropped to the ground. “Lin Feng, what are you doing here? You look lonely—how about coming out to play with your senior brother?”

“But... if Master finds out, won’t he be angry?” Lin Feng hesitated.

“He won’t know if you and I say nothing, will he? Listen, a few days ago I found a three-leaf Fire Serpent Fruit growing in the mountains. Two fruits have just ripened—they’ll be ready soon. Let’s go pick them together and split them. How about it?” Qian Cai stroked his beard, waiting for Lin Feng’s answer with a grin.

Glancing around and seeing no one, Lin Feng nodded softly. “Alright, second senior brother, but we must return early.”

“It’s fine, let’s go.” Qian Cai flipped his palm and summoned the Five-Colored Coin Seal, the coins swelling to the size of straw hats in the wind. Grabbing Lin Feng, he chanted, “Let’s go!” and the two of them shot off, vanishing into the mist.

Mountains and rivers flew by beneath them as they soared toward the depths of the wilderness. After half an hour, they landed atop a mountain peak.

“We’re here. Let’s go!” Qian Cai pointed to the steep cliff. Lin Feng looked where he indicated and sure enough, above a spring, there was a clump of fiery red three-leaf grass. Two snake-skinned scarlet fruits hung at the tip, heavy and about to fall. Under the fruits, illusory images of dragons and serpents swirled, two cloudlike snakes entwined in a mesmerizing dance.

The Fire Serpent Fruit could be used in alchemy or consumed directly—especially beneficial for those with fire attributes, greatly enhancing their cultivation. Qian Cai had a Pure Fire constitution, Lin Feng a Yang Flame body—this was a treasure perfectly suited for them.

“Junior brother, this Fire Serpent Fruit is a rarity. It cannot be picked by hand. I’ll manage the magic item and you’ll use this jade spoon to knock them off, then catch them in this vermilion pouch. We’ll split them when we return,” Qian Cai explained, handing over a foot-long jade spoon and readying his red drawstring bag. They stepped onto the Coin Seal and slowly floated upward.

Before they reached the fruits, the illusory mist of dragons and serpents surged toward them. Qian Cai, prepared, smiled and flicked his fingers, dispersing the searing mist. He scoffed, “It knows its end is near and tries to resist—ridiculous for a mere plant to defy its fate.”

Lin Feng managed a smile, raising the jade spoon, but hesitated, a trace of pity in his heart. Qian Cai, holding the pouch open, saw Lin Feng’s troubled expression and chuckled, “Junior brother, do it now!”

“Oh, alright!” With a gentle tap, the two Fire Serpent Fruits tumbled down. Instantly, the three-leaf grass withered, its leaves curling and turning gray.

“It’s dead?” Lin Feng asked in surprise.

“Of course. Such spirit fruits die as soon as they’re picked—not unusual at all,” Qian Cai replied, holding the pouch as they landed to catch their breath.

“Senior brother, how many contribution points could these Fire Serpent Fruits be exchanged for?” Lin Feng asked.

Qian Cai grinned. “Why exchange them? Keep them to use yourself—they’re worth at least ten years of cultivation. When you reach the Foundation Establishment phase, Master will surely reward you with a fitting magic item. We’re inner disciples—the sect won’t hesitate to invest in us. Trust me, never trade away these spiritual materials for contribution points; they’re more valuable for your own use than for benefiting others.”

“Thank you for your guidance, senior brother,” Lin Feng said respectfully.

“Alright, enough rest. Let’s head back.” Qian Cai waved his hand and was about to summon his magic item when a cold laugh sounded at their ears, followed by a black shadow shooting toward them from afar!

“Careful!” Qian Cai shouted, casting the Five-Colored Coin Seal forward.

Boom! Lin Feng had just drawn his Mourning Sun Sword when a mass of black light collided with the Coin Seal in midair, erupting in a violent explosion.

Humming, the black light spun dozens of yards in the air before being caught by a tall man in a purple robe. The Five-Colored Coin Seal returned to Qian Cai’s hand; both sides eyed each other warily.

The newcomer was tall and imposing, his red hair flowing wildly like fiery serpents, his expression half-smiling, half-malevolent, eyes cold and vicious as he looked down on them.

“Hundred Flowers Sect?” The man clutched an odd black blade—three-pronged, seven-forked, shaped like antlers, flickering with dark light.

Qian Cai chuckled. “Which hall are you from, sir?”

“I am the lord of this cave, under Minglong the Dragon Sovereign of the Nine Dragons Hall. If you know what’s good for you, hand over the Fire Serpent Fruit and I’ll let you go,” the red-haired man sneered.

“Minglong the Dragon Sovereign? Quite a patron you have. I am Lin Feng of the Hundred Flowers Sect. If you want this spirit fruit, I won’t give it up!” Qian Cai winked and, with a flick of his wrist, slipped the vermilion pouch into his mustard seed bag.

“Very well! Then die and hand over everything you have!” The cave lord in purple laughed menacingly, flinging his black blade at Qian Cai and Lin Feng.

“Heh, a mere little flood dragon dares act up before master Qian? I’ll take your core!” Qian Cai sprang into the air. His treasure and the cave lord’s black blade clashed repeatedly; blue-red flames flared from Qian Cai’s hands as he attacked.

Lin Feng used his Heavenly Eye technique on the man, but a haze obscured his vision—he could glean nothing. “Second senior brother is cunning, calling out my name at random. This opponent is strong and serves Minglong. He’d better not lose.”

As Lin Feng pondered, two more figures appeared on the horizon. He looked up and drew a sharp breath—more demon cultivators; two Crocodile Salamanders in the Forming Stage!