September 11th, light rain.

  Stirling was off duty today. He sat under the eaves, watching the rain fall in the courtyard, and was lost in thought.

  Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

  The knocking pulled Stirling back to reality. He got up, opened his leather umbrella, and went to the gate, unlatching it.

  Standing outside was Lance.

  "Master, the pass for leaving the city is ready."

  Lance, holding the umbrella, handed Stirling a letter.

  "Did you find out where they are?"

  Stirling asked.

  "Found it. Head east out of the city to Yellow Leaf Village, about two hundred miles away."

  "Hmm, what is their cultivation level?"

  "Master, I'm not sure, but it shouldn't exceed the Nascent Realm. The Seven Extreme Shrine people have always been at odds with Yearning Palace. Any movement by an Incarnation expert will attract a lot of attention." Lance said.

  "Go," Stirling waved his hand.

  "Master, should we prepare a horse?" Lance asked again.

  "No need." Stirling shook his head.

  Seeing this, Lance glanced around. Finding no one nearby, he bowed a bit to Stirling and left secretly.

  Stirling, carrying the letter, turned and returned to his room.

  Fifteen minutes later, Stirling stepped out of Farfield County. He wore a raincoat and a straw hat. He, in a flash, determined his direction and then headed east.

  The light rain today kept the roads calm. Especially outside Farfield County; Stirling saw few pedestrians.

  Stirling walked for about ten miles, and the fewer pedestrians there were, the faster he moved.

  Finally, Stirling took a super-distant step. His body leaped like a nimble ape, darting through the rain and landing a dozen meters away in a flash. Then, with a few more same steps, he disappeared in a few breaths.

  This was the first time Stirling had used the perfected level of the "Flowing Clouds Crossing" technique for travel.

  Right now, Stirling's leaps were all instinct. This way of using energy has turned into muscle memory, entrenched in him.

  In his vision, the rain's fall slowed, like a video switching to slow motion.

  Stirling was moving so fast that he could see the paths of slower objects.

  This is also the result of a perfected Flowing Cloud Flight, which Stirling calls hang time.

  In the misty world, rain vapor rose as a figure leaped across the mountain path. It moved fast, vanishing into the woods beside the road. Then it vanished completely.

  ...

  Three cultivators in gray robes strolled side by side on the broad official road, each holding an umbrella.

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  All three were dressed similarly, and each carried a long sword. However, one had a constant smile on his face, another a constant frown, and the third a constant feigned cry.

  The three moved fast, clearly experts in cultivation. Their robes added an air of otherworldly elegance.

  "Senior Brother, is it all right for us to enter the territory of Yearning Palace so brazenly?"

  The one on the far left, with a pained expression, asked.

  "It's all right. There's a traitor within their Yearning Palace. We'll help them find him; they should thank us," said the smiling cultivator in the middle.

  "Hussein, don't worry. Senior Brother Reid has shifted from samurai to God-worshipper. He now wields immense strength. He could even fight a Grandmaster at the peak of the Nascent stage," said the woman with the sour face on the right.

  She spoke lightly, but her face showed worry and strange distress.

  "That's true. I heard that the Yearning Palace envoy is only a Nascent. We can use this to negotiate with her; perhaps we can convince Yearning Palace to cede some territory."

  The three chatted as they walked when, before they knew it, the cultivator in the middle stopped.

  "Senior Brother Reid, what is wrong?"

  The two beside him were puzzled.

  The smiling cultivator remained quiet and looked at the figure that had appeared around the corner of the road.

  "Hmm?" The two people next to him followed the smiling cultivator's gaze and saw the newcomer.

  "Killing intent." The smiling cultivator said so with gravity.

  Upon hearing this, both looked at Stirling opposite them. The woman with the bitter face asked doubtfully:

  "So young, how strong can he be?"

  Without saying, the newcomer was Stirling.

  With his perfect performance of "Flowing Clouds Flight," he reached the address that Lance had provided in just over two hours.

  Of course, he hadn't expected to encounter these three demons head-on on this official road.

  As for how Stirling knew they were demons, it was because the three were simply too obvious.

  They all had the same look, wore long robes, and walked in the same direction. This clarified that they were likely cultists.

  Stirling pulled out the quicksand map and unfolded it unhurriedly. He saw no red crosses marking anything. He then called out to the three men from dozens of meters away:

  "Are you three fellows from the Seven Extreme Shrine?"

  "Kill him." The smiler didn't waste any words, ordering without fuss.

  The woman with the bitter face next to him threw her umbrella into the air with one hand. Then, she charged at Stirling, sword in hand, at full speed.

  The crying cultivator on the other side also charged forward, sword in hand. The two attacked in a coordinated fashion, displaying well-trained skills.

  Even though they didn't see Stirling as very strong, they attacked together just in case.

  Stirling kept staring at the quicksand map in his hand. He noticed that no red crosses had shown up on it. He then relaxed, rolled up the map, and put it away. In the next moment, Stirling saw the two charging at him. He waved his hand, and beams of yellow light shot past. The Malice-Breaking orb hidden in his sleeve was launched.

  "Malice-breaking orb! It's you!"

  The smiler behind him roared as soon as he saw the yellow light. His body crackled and popped like an angry lion.

  He threw away his umbrella, took a step forward, and instantly overtook the other two. He took another step and stood in front of Stirling. Then, he struck out with his palm towards his face.

  At that moment, the light rain quietly changed to mist just an inch from the smiling cultivator. It made him look as if he were wearing a clear raincoat.

  Stirling, in no time, saw this as a phenomenon. It happened when a cultivator's Malice-force grew strong and flowed from their body. This reminded him of the worshipper at the Vajra Temple he had encountered in the courtyard that day.

  Both cultivators' Malice-forces could detach from their bodies by an inch. The Samurai's level was like finishing the minor part of the Blood Boiling stage.

  Stirling was puzzled. He raised his hand and threw a punch, colliding with the smiling cultivator's palm.

  The loud crash of the Malice-force sounded between them, but the smiling cultivator kept his cool. Instead, he leaped into the air and unleashed three more palm strikes at Stirling.

  These three palm strikes were faster and more urgent than the last. The surging malice-force whipped up a misty rain, drawing a dancing dragon between the two!

  "Too slow." Stirling, however, had entered a state of hang time. The cultivator's movements seemed much slower to him, and he found it rather boring.

  He suddenly twisted his body. Two strong vital-force energies surged from his viscera into his arms. His entire presence changed, like a fierce King Kong, and he slammed his fist down at the cultivator.

  The smiler was in total shock, as if he had eaten disgusting shit, but he had no other expressions to switch. He could only stare blankly at Stirling, a fist image in his pupils rapidly magnifying.