Chapter 389 - Chop and Change (1/2)
More than twenty chests were hauled up and left outside the gate of the Fire Dragon Palace.
“I’m afraid this is all the Fire Dragon Palace has,” said Yan Chong with a look of reluctance.
The Ninth Presbyter of the Winged race motioned one of his men to inspect the chests.
The elderly Winged did as he was told. He landed and strode to the chests and opened one of them. He took out a magical shrub and a bright glow of light shone in his palm as he consumed the nourishment of the enchanted plant as it withered at a visible rate before turning into ashes.
Satisfied, he opened the rest of the other chests and peered inside. When he was done, he turned around, looked up at the Ninth Presbyter, and nodded to him.
But the Winged leader looked hardly contented. Coldly, he glowered, “Is that all?”
“Indeed,” replied Yan Chong, “This is every bit of the treasures and valuables that we could find from every corner of the Palace, including the personal stores of every single member here. Feel free to send someone inside to check if you won’t take my word for it.”
The Ninth Presbyter nodded smugly and said, “Very well. At any rate, I doubt you’re even brave enough to try anything duplicitous.”
He landed and waved a hand, magicked all twenty chests into his Storage Ring.
Yan Chong, Lei Bao, and Long Ao all grimaced at the sight of the Palace’s valuable resources being taken.
With a contemptuous smirk, the Ninth Presbyter soared up to the air once more. Peering down at Yan Chong just as he would at insects, he said, “Remember. You are to spread the word about invincible might of us Wingeds.”
“Don’t worry about that. We’ll get right to it immediately and make sure the world knows about this,” said Yan Chong, feigning servility.
“Good. You might make a very good servant at that,” sneered the Ninth Presbyter derisively before he barked to his men, “Let’s go.”
“But sir, the Tenth Presbyter and the others are not back yet,” said an elderly Winged.
The Ninth Presbyter frowned at that. “We’ll just withdraw. Fire a flair after this to notify them of our departure.”
Meanwhile, Yan Chong and his companions were screaming on the inside: Go, dammit! Just go!
Meanwhile, inside the Palace, the acolytes were all rushing around to collect their personal effects. It would only be so long before the Wingeds discovered the hoax and they needed to get to Gujiang before the Wingeds returned to regroup with the Rock Sect.
The highly-disciplined Winged Legion maintained their neat formation even as they hovered in the air.
They turned around to leave, not without throwing insulting looks at Yan Chong and the others before they pivoted around, their wings beating heavily.
Just then, one of the elderly chieftains spied a dozen or so Wingeds scrambling this way.
“Wait, Ninth Presbyter. Look,” he said.
The Ninth Presbyter said nothing, save to fix a fierce glare into the distance. He had already noticed them coming.
The stray group of Wingeds caught up to them.
“What happened?” demanded an elderly Winged.
Between their terrified looks and missing patches of feathers, they looked like a flock of beaten chickens who had been fleeing for their lives.
“Where’s the Tenth Presbyter?”
“D-dead! They’re all dead!” cried one of the survivors, his voice trembling so badly like a piece of glass about to break.
“What?!”
Every Winged who could hear him thought their ears were deceiving them.
“What did you say?!” demanded the Ninth Presbyter loudly.
“They were all killed! The Tenth Presbyter and the others! You need to avenge them, sir! Please!” sobbed another Winged survivor.
“Speak clearly! What on earth happened?!” bellowed the Ninth Presbyter angrily.
The band of survivors told their story of what happened with each adding a sentence or two every now and then.
They recounted how the detachment of the Legion which had diverted away was killed by ordinary humans using guns and how a single man had almost decimated the whole detachment single-handedly.
“Are you saying that the Tenth Presbyter was killed by an ordinary human?!” gasped the Ninth Presbyter with evident disbelief.
“That’s no human. He’s a monster! A demon! The Tenth Presbyter had activated his Suan Ni tooth all to no avail. Instead, that man even took the Suan Ni True Blood from inside the tooth!”
“He even took Master Mo’s Reality Painting.”
Every Winged who heard them reeled with bewilderment. “What?! The prized heirloom of the Winged race, the Reality Painting, is lost?!”
The Ninth Presbyter could not believe this was happening. They could never risk losing the secrets hidden inside the Reality Painting that was the key to restoring the Winged race and the Suan Ni True Blood, a treasure of untold value.
“Lead the way,” he glowered.
They could not lose the Reality Painting, to say nothing of the secrets it carried.
Down below, Yan Chong and his comrades all shared furtive looks of doubt. “Humans killing Wingeds with guns?! What kind of far-fetched joke is that?”
They had experienced first-hand the might of the Winged race and their deadly steel-like feathers that could split even stone and metal. Yet even with such might, a human had, unaided and unassisted, routed a company of them.
Even to most of the Winged race, the Tenth Presbyter wielded powers and strength that only few could rival, and that he had been slaughtered like a dog was a feat only thought unbelievable and impossible before.
“Good Heavens Almighty… Has an angel from above come down to defend us?!” Yan Chong and his companions all thought with delight.
The band of survivors turned around to lead the bulk of the Winged Legion to where they came from when what they saw something closing in from a distance made them shrieked and caterwauled with fright as they flapped their wings and scattered to flee.
“Worthless scum,” bellowed the Ninth Presbyter, firing a sound wave that pummeled at the survivors, nearly knocking them off the sky.
Every head turned to look closely and a little white dot approached, growing clearer and clearer.
Yan Chong and his comrades watched with dubious stares.
They saw a Winged. A Winged that was carrying a man on his back like a beast of burden.
Angry cries resounded from the midst of the Winged Legion. None of the Wingeds were happy to see one of their own being used as a common mule.
Even from afar, one could almost make out how badly-shaken the Winged was, trembling under the feet of the human riding on his back. As much as he was afraid of his own kind and the punishment that might await him, he was more afraid of Chu Xun and he could only obey his wishes to approach the Winged Legion.
“Wretched fool!” hissed the Ninth Presbyter with such rage that his hairs almost stood on ends. His hand came up swiftly to fire a white bolt of energy.