A genuine smile still lingered on Li Yu’s face as he walked away from the food stall. The fiery warmth of the Rift-Pepper Noodles sat comfortably in his stomach, a pleasant grounding sensation amidst the chaos. For a brief moment, he had been just a traveler, not a warrior. This journey, as perilous as it was, was already proving to be more than just a grim march to war. It was an expansion of his world.

He made his way back through the bustling military-run streets of Fort Torrent, the shouts of officers and the clang of forges replacing the sizzle of the food stall. He arrived at the spartan quarters assigned to them and pushed open the door.

Jian Xuan was not meditating as Li Yu had expected. He was vibrating with a restless, creative energy and the small room was evidence of his work.

“Ah, you’re back!” Jian Xuan said, his voice booming. He tossed a heavy, folded bundle of cloth to Li Yu.

“What’s this?” Li Yu asked, catching it. The material was high-quality. “Our new uniforms, of course!” Jian Xuan declared, gesturing to his own person. He was already wearing one. “We are the vanguard of a terrifyingly powerful cult. We must look the part!”

Li Yu unfolded the robe, his eyebrows slowly rising. It was… a lot. The robe itself was a stark, pristine white. It was utterly impractical for a battlefield, a color designed to be seen, to be a target, which Li Yu suspected was precisely the point. But the embroidery was of masterful quality.

On the back, a massive, intricate emblem covered nearly the entire surface. It was a swirling vortex of deep purple and electric-white energy. A chaotic and beautiful image that looked like a distant galaxy. In the very center of this swirling void, stark and menacing was a single embroidered black claw, its pincher sharp and defined, seeming to reach forward out of the chaos.

Li Yu turned the robe over. The front was just as white, with the same emblem, only much smaller and palm-sized, embroidered neatly over the left chest area.

“You were restless,” Li Yu stated. It wasn’t a question.

“Insanely restless!” Jian Xuan confirmed with a laugh. “I tried to but couldn’t nap. So, I found the city’s main tailoring guild. I told them it was a high-priority emergency order for a newly-arrived allied sect. These people are fast, Li Yu! True artisans. They had it done in less than an hour.”

He ran a hand down his own white robe. “I’m guessing they’re used to it. Five different sects in this fortress, plus who knows how many allies and minor clans coming and going? They’re probably making banners and officer’s robes every single day. War is terrible but it’s fantastic for business! We have to look the part. The robes, the chant, the god… it’s a complete package! How can we convert the masses if we don’t have good branding?”

‘Convert the masses?’ Li Yu thought but quickly threw it to the back of his mind as he looked at what was in front of him.

Li Yu stared at the robe, then at Jian Xuan, then back at the robe. He let out a long, slow sigh. He knew there was no arguing. And, in a purely strategic sense, Jian Xuan’s insane logic, before the part about converting the masses, was sound.

They were hiding their true identities. An eccentric and overwhelmingly powerful new cult was the perfect cover story. Their actions at Aethelgard had already laid the groundwork. These gaudy, ridiculous robes were just the next step in the performance.

“Fine,” Li Yu said, his voice weary. He began to shed his own robes. If he was going to be a lunatic, he might as well be a well-dressed one.

A few minutes later, the two of them stepped out of the quarters.

They walked back to the Aegis Command. The guards at the heavy stone door, Foundation Establishment experts themselves saw them approaching. Their eyes went wide and their hands twitched towards their weapons before they recognized them. They quickly snapped to attention, their expressions a mask of military discipline but their eyes were filled with confusion.

The heavy door swung open. Theron, Sect Leader Lyra, Sect Leader Kaelen, and the other leaders of the Southern Shield were all still there, finalizing their own departure plans. They all looked up as the two white-robed figures entered.

Dead silence.

Lyra’s eyes just… stared. Her brilliant, strategic mind seemed to crash, unable to compute this new variable. Kaelen, the Soul Formation giant, blinked his massive eyes, his expression like that of a confused bear. The other Sect Leaders simply looked on, dumbfounded.

Grand Elder Theron, a being who had lived for centuries and seen the rise and fall of nations, just closed his eyes for a single, long, weary second. He looked into the air with a gaze that said, ‘Did we make the right choice bringing them here?’

Li Yu could feel the thoughts of those around him, as plain as if they’d been shouted. ‘Lunatics.’ ‘Are they completely stupid?’ ‘They’ve painted targets on their own backs.’ ‘What in the name of the ancestors is WRONG with them?’

He was almost certain he was correct, because he was thinking the exact same things himself.

JianXuan , however, was either oblivious to the atmosphere or, more likely, reveling in it. He beamed, his white robes making him seem to glow in the command center’s dim light. “The Abyssal Crab Cult is ready to depart for the Ironjaw Ravine!” he announced, as if this were the most normal thing in the world.

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Theron, looking like a man who had just swallowed a lemon, was too tired and had too much to do to argue with a fourth-level Soul Formation madman. He just nodded, his face a mask. “Good. We are departing as well. Sect Leader Lyra, Fort Torrent is in your hands. We will… commence the continental counter-offensive. Good luck to you all.”

The farewells were brief and professional. Theron’s group headed for their airship, bound for another location. Jian Xuan and Li Yu, however, were on their own. They were a two-man rapid-assault force. They gave a respectful nod to Lyra, walked out of the command spire into the central plaza and then shot into the sky like two white comets, heading west.

The Ironjaw Ravine was a massive, jagged scar in the earth, a sprawling network of canyons and passes that stretched for miles. The rock was a deep, rusty iron-red and the spires and formations were sharp as blades, making it the perfect territory for ambushes and guerrilla warfare.

As they descended into the main canyon, their spiritual senses scanned the area. They immediately picked up a battle—the clang of steel, the roar of a beast, and a desperate human scream.

They shot towards the sound. In a narrow pass, a small group of about ten disciples wearing the five-sect-alliance armor of Fort Torrent were backed against a sheer cliff wall. They had formed a desperate, back-to-back circle, holding off a pincer attack from a squad of thirty Human Faction cultivators and at least a dozen massive, hyena-like beasts with armored, bony plates on their backs. The allied disciples were not in good shape with one already on the ground, bleeding heavily.

“I’ll take the back,” Li Yu said, his voice calm. He didn’t even wait for a reply.

He Void Stepped.

One moment, he was in the air beside Jian Xuan. The next, he was on the ground behind the enemy’s rear guard. His heavy staff was already in his hand.

Li Yu swung the heavy staff in a simple, brutal arc.

The sound was a dull, sickening CRUNCH. The cultivator, his spiritual shields, his defensive artifact, and his entire torso caved in from the unholy, concussive force. He was dead before his body, now bent at an impossible angle, even began to fall.

The battle screeched to a halt. The other enemies, shocked by the sudden brutal appearance, turned. Li Yu was already a phantom. Rippling Shadow Step. He appeared beside one of the hyena-beasts. He brought the end of his staff down in a vertical smash. CRACK. The beast’s armored skull caved in like an eggshell. Void Step. CRUNCH.

His brutal and terrifying style carved through the enemy ranks. Jian Xuan, not to be outdone, descended from the sky like a golden hawk. His sword was a blur, handling the other half of the pincer.

In no time at all, the entire enemy force of over forty combatants was dead and the two white-robed figures stood calmly in the middle of the carnage.

The allied disciples stared, their weapons still raised, their chests heaving. The young woman leading them, a bloody bandage already wrapped around her arm, looked from Jian Xuan to Li Yu, her mind clearly struggling to catch up.

Li Yu, his white robe remarkably unstained, walked over to them. “We’re here to help.” He presented the authority token Lyra had given him.

The disciple leader, Corina, recognized the token, her eyes widening. She then darted a glance at the bizarre emblem on Li Yu’s chest. “Commander! Thank you, thank you,” she stammered, quickly bowing. “We… we’ve never seen that emblem before. We are grateful for your aid. We are the 7th patrol of the Silver Serpent Sect.”

“The Abyssal Crab Cult,” Jian Xuan said, landing with a flourish, sheathing his sword. “You’re welcome.”

“What’s the situation here?” Li Yu asked, getting straight to the point.

Corina grimaced. “It’s a nightmare, Commander. There’s no main army. We’ve been trying to secure this ravine for a week. The enemy is everywhere. It’s not one force, it’s endless small independent warbands. They hit our patrols, our supply lines, anything and everything. They just… they never stop.”

Another disciple, a young man leaning heavily on his spear, spat. “It’s like trying to put out a thousand small fires at once. We win a fight here, but as we’re cleaning up, we get a signal flare that another patrol is being ambushed miles south. We’re being bled dry. We don’t have the numbers to be everywhere at once. We can’t lock the area down.”

Jian Xuan scoffed, crossing his arms. “This is a stupid way to fight. A child’s game. Putting out fires? No, no, no. You don’t put out the fires. You find the one setting them.” His grin widened. “Or you set a bigger fire, one that burns them all at once.”

He looked at Li Yu. “This reactive strategy is clearly not working. It’s what they want. They’re controlling the tempo. We need to be proactive.”

Before Li Yu could even ask what he meant, Jian Xuan shot into the sky, ascending until he was a blazing white speck high above the central ravine. He took a deep breath and projected his voice. The sound, empowered by his Soul Formation cultivation, rolled like thunder, echoing off the miles of iron-red rock.

“HEAR ME, ALL YOU SCUM AND PRETENDERS LURKING IN THESE ROCKS! This is Jian Xuan of the Abyssal Crab Cult!”

Down below, Corina and her patrol stared up, their jaws slack. “Is… is he insane?” one of them whispered.

“This ravine…” Jian Xuan’s voice boomed. “It’s a nice place. The Crab God has decided to take it! We were just at Aethelgard. You may have heard of it. Or, rather, you may have heard the screams of your commanders as our Prophet Khaos erased them from existence!”

“This is your only warning. Get out of this ravine. All of you. This is now holy ground for the Crab God. Anyone we find after this announcement… will be considered a sacrifice to the great void!”

Jian Xuan descended, landing lightly on a pinnacle of rock, his white robes billowing in the wind.

The disciples were utterly speechless. Corina just stammered, “Sir… Commander… what… was that?”

“Deterrence,” Jian Xuan said simply, as if explaining basic arithmetic.

Li Yu, standing on the canyon floor with one hand covering his face. “He’s not wrong about the strategy,” he muttered to himself. “Just… the delivery.”

Jian Xuan hopped down from his perch. He looked at Corina and her battered patrol. “Go. Find a safe alcove. Tend to your wounds and rest. Once you are recovered, you can continue your patrol.” He then gestured to the ravine at large. “We will handle the heavy lifting from here.”

The disciples, bewildered, exhausted and in no position to argue with the two men who had just saved their lives and were now claiming an entire geographic region, bowed deeply. “Yes, Commander! Thank you, Commander!” They quickly gathered their wounded and moved off, finding a defensible alcove a short distance away to begin healing, their eyes still watching the two white-robed figures in confusion.

Jian Xuan watched them go, then turned to Li Yu. “Well? Shall we begin? We’ll sweep the ravine from north to south. We’ll put out all these little fires and we’ll see if our… invitation… draws in any bigger fish.”

Li Yu summoned his staff. “Let’s begin the purge.”

With that, the two white-robed figures shot off into the labyrinthine depths of the ravine, their hunt—and their crusade—officially underway.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep