Chapter 066: The Final Transformation

Watching Wan Fushan storm off from the Northern Cliff Pavilion in a fit of rage, Xu Xuan allowed himself a triumphant smile. To use every means at his disposal to drive his enemy into a fury that clouded reason—this was not only a strategy, but it also brought a peculiar sense of satisfaction.

Undoubtedly, Xu Xuan had already risen from the ranks of the lowest disciples of the Immortal Sect. The true strength he now possessed left him with no fear of Wan Fushan.

“Patrol duty, is it? I’d like to see what tricks Wan Fushan can play this time,” Xu Xuan mused, considering how best to eliminate Wan Fushan without arousing suspicion within the Immortal Sect.

However, since suppressing the bandits, Wan Fushan had broken through to the second level of Qi Refinement and even obtained a lower-grade magical artifact. With his strength greatly enhanced, killing him now would be no easy feat.

Moreover, the death of an inner disciple was no small matter for the Immortal Sect.

Of course, for Wan Fushan, dealing with the present Xu Xuan would also prove troublesome and difficult.

This was a contest of strength and cunning. Yet Xu Xuan was convinced that victory would ultimately be his. The longer things dragged on, the more advantageous it became for him. Wan Fushan’s potential was limited, after all, whereas Xu Xuan possessed the treasure trove of a peak powerhouse’s memories from his previous life—his potential was boundless.

According to Wan Fushan’s arrangement, Xu Xuan would be on patrol three nights hence, covering a stretch along the outer edges of Starfeather Mountain.

In the past two months, this patrol duty had come around once every half month. It was hardly a hardship; in fact, it came with extra spirit stones and elixirs.

Taking advantage of these three days, Xu Xuan secluded himself in the Northern Cliff Pavilion, striving to master the ninth transformation of the Dragon-Serpent Art.

This was the final transformation of the “Nine Transformations of Dragon and Serpent”—the Commanding Transformation.

Looking back on the eight previous transformations—Supple, Break, Drift, Coil, Stillness, Venom, Firmness, and Roar—Xu Xuan found himself in a surreal daze, as if awakening from a dream to discover he had become a powerhouse on par with the Immortal Sages.

The speed of his transformation had simply been too rapid.

Unwittingly, he was already cultivating the ninth and final transformation.

Its difficulty was just as great as Xu Xuan had expected—even the ninth level of the corresponding Breathing Technique was arduously tough.

The essence of the Commanding Transformation was somewhat akin to the Stillness Transformation, rising from the cultivation of blood, energy, and spirit to an even higher spiritual plane.

According to the memories from his past life, once the ninth transformation was mastered, its power of awe and intimidation would far surpass that of the Roar Transformation.

This final transformation was akin to the metamorphosis of a serpent into a dragon. Every move contained an unfathomable power, to the point that it could defeat the enemy without a fight.

The first eight forms were all about forging sinew and bone, strengthening the spirit, and breaking through the body’s limits—they were ways to defeat the enemy in battle. But to make the enemy yield without a fight was a realm yet to be reached.

For three days, he trained as arduously as ever. The ninth level of the Breathing Technique had begun to show results, which satisfied him.

That evening, it happened to be Xu Xuan’s team’s turn for patrol and enforcement.

The rendezvous point was the Celestial Watch Terrace, the first checkpoint he had faced upon entering the Immortal Sect.

When Xu Xuan arrived, he found dozens had already gathered, dividing into groups as they assembled.

Wan Fushan’s team comprised five or six members. On seeing Xu Xuan, Wan Fushan immediately leaned in to whisper to a young man beside him, “Brother Fei, that’s the Xu Xuan I told you about…”

Swish!

Xu Xuan landed lightly on the stone platform in front of them, drawing only a few glances.

“So, you’re Xu Xuan?” asked Brother Fei, who appeared to be around thirty, of average build, with sharp eyes that seemed to pierce through everything. The spiritual pressure he exuded, whether intentionally or not, inspired awe among the inner disciples nearby.

Sensing his aura, Xu Xuan realized Brother Fei was a fourth-level Qi Refinement cultivator—no wonder he was captain of a patrol squad.

Of course, at Brother Fei’s age, to have reached the fourth level of Qi Refinement meant his talent was only average within the sect, making it difficult to become a true disciple.

“Yes, Brother Fei, I am Xu Xuan,” Xu Xuan replied calmly, neither arrogant nor servile.

Both were inner disciples; the other simply outranked him in cultivation. There was no need for excessive deference.

“You’re at Body Refinement Level Seven, the lowest cultivation in the team, yet you’re the last to arrive. Don’t think that killing a few petty bandits makes you special. On this patrol, you will obey orders,” Brother Fei said coldly, his expression annoyed, evidently not seeing through to Xu Xuan’s true strength.

The last to arrive?

Xu Xuan was briefly taken aback. He had arrived half an hour earlier than the time Wan Fushan had told him.

Sure enough, he noted the schadenfreude on Wan Fushan’s face. Clearly, Wan Fushan wouldn’t make things easy for him—especially after Xu Xuan had tricked him recently.

Confronted by Brother Fei’s reprimand, Xu Xuan did not contradict him. Instead, with a half-smile, he glanced at Wan Fushan. “Perhaps I misheard Senior Brother Wan when he relayed the time, arriving half an hour late. As a mere Body Refinement practitioner, how could I dare be so presumptuous before my fellow brothers? I hope you will forgive me.”

He mentioned this lightly, with subtlety and tact.

The inner disciples nearby exchanged glances, some showing thoughtful expressions. They guessed at Wan Fushan’s intentions, some with a hint of disdain in their eyes.

The subtlety lay in that Xu Xuan neither accused nor named Wan Fushan. He seemed to take responsibility himself, yet left room for others to imagine what had transpired.

“I’ve heard that before joining the inner sect, Xu Xuan clashed with Wan Fushan—apparently over a woman. With Wan Fushan’s vengeful nature, I fear…”

“Heh, looks like we’re in for some entertainment,” some inner disciples from other patrol teams whispered from afar.

Under the scornful glances of his peers, Wan Fushan grew uncomfortable, cursing Xu Xuan inwardly, though on the surface he forced an awkward smile. “I wouldn’t have given the wrong time. It seems Junior Brother Xu must have misremembered.”

Brother Fei’s face showed a hint of contemplation. After so many years in the sect, he was no fool. His gaze swept over Wan Fushan and Xu Xuan, and he began to form an idea.

Judging by Xu Xuan’s demeanor—calm, humble, and natural—he was nothing like the arrogant, disrespectful figure Wan Fushan had described.

“All right, let’s put this matter behind us. Follow me,” Brother Fei said, his tone easing.

Purple light flickered around him as he leapt onto a battered, ancient plank of violet-blue wood. A layer of luminous mist arose as he hovered, drifting forward on his flying artifact.

“That flying artifact is…” Xu Xuan was a bit surprised. Brother Fei’s flying tool appeared quite old, with clear signs of repair.

In the cultivation world, flying artifacts were usually crafted specifically for flight, inscribed with levitation arrays.

Of course, if one reached the level of a Spirit-Refining Immortal Master, then even ordinary artifacts could be flown under one’s spiritual control. But at the Qi Refinement stage, with limited magical power, only by relying on flying artifacts could one take to the skies. Even so, such items were objects of admiration and envy for lesser immortals and all mundane practitioners.

Their patrol squad—six in total—set off for the southwestern border of Windfeather Immortal Sect as night deepened.

Along the way, Wan Fushan’s face was sullen; his gaze flickered toward Xu Xuan with barely contained resentment, though there was little he could do.

Xu Xuan acted as if he hadn’t noticed at all.

After a while, Brother Fei began assigning patrol routes. Each was to keep a certain distance, maintain mutual vigilance, and take responsibility for a designated area.

"Wan Fushan, take two with you and patrol the forested area over there. Be alert for anyone attempting to approach the mountain gate,” Brother Fei instructed, as Wan Fushan was the vice-captain.

Xu Xuan glanced at the region in question—a dark, densely wooded tract.

Wan Fushan’s gaze swept over the group, intending to select his companions. When his eyes passed over Xu Xuan, he hesitated, aware that his intentions had already been seen through by the others.

But before he could speak, Xu Xuan stepped forward and declared in a righteous tone, “I volunteer to accompany Senior Brother Wan!”

The words had barely left his lips before Wan Fushan’s eyes nearly bulged from their sockets; the other disciples were equally taken aback.

Brother Fei paused, a strange look on his face, but did not interfere.

Wan Fushan seethed inwardly. So, Xu Xuan was actually clinging to him—what was he scheming?

Soon, Xu Xuan followed Wan Fushan into the deep forest with a cheerful smile, faintly noticing the veins bulging on Wan Fushan’s forehead.

(End of Chapter Two)