Qingyuan Lake had a unique beauty in the pouring rain, but no one was there to appreciate it at that moment.
The Jiuyuan warriors stationed by the lake, clad in straw raincoats, stepped forward to greet their chief, who had suddenly arrived in the dead of night.
“Lord Chief, what has happened?” Hu Hu wiped the rain from his face and asked quickly.
Yuan Zhan didn’t answer. He waved his hand and said grimly, “Prepare for battle!”
Hu Hu and the other warriors were startled, but they didn’t ask any further questions. Instead, they passed the word along, and one by one, they gripped their weapons and followed him to the lakeshore.
The merfolk warriors also stationed by the lake didn’t know what had happened, but the tense atmosphere emanating from the Jiuyuan warriors affected them as well, causing them to instinctively grow wary.
Yuan Zhan seemed to ignore the merfolk warriors as he walked to the lakeshore and stamped his foot.
The previously calm lake surface suddenly churned with waves, and whirlpools formed in some places. The water visibly turned murky. Amid the torrential downpour, a corner of the lakeshore appeared as if it were about to collapse, and everyone standing there felt the ground shift beneath their feet.
The merfolk warriors by the shore let out angry shouts. More than twenty of them sliced through the water from nearby, charging straight toward this side of the shore. Among them were Simon and Devon, whom Yuan Zhan recognized.
Hu Hu and the other warriors didn’t understand why their leader had suddenly turned against the merfolk, but seeing the merfolk warriors closing in, they too aimed their spear tips at the merfolk on the shore.
The merfolk warriors immediately assumed an offensive stance.
Devon noticed the sudden disturbance at the bottom of the lake and surmised it was likely related to Jiuyuan’s chief, for if there had been an earthquake, the High Priest would certainly have warned them in advance.
“Chief Zhan!” Devon said, suppressing his anger. “If you have a message to deliver, just tell the warriors on the shore. What are you doing?”
“Take me to see your High Priest,” Yuan Zhan stated his purpose directly.
The merfolk exchanged glances. Devon swam forward and shouted, “Chief Zhan, we cannot take you to see him without the High Priest’s consent.”
“I demand to see my priest immediately!”
The Jiuyuan warriors, hearing the tone in Yuan Zhan’s voice, assumed their priest had been captured by the merfolk. Their expressions darkened, and their demeanor shifted instantly—from mere vigilance to a readiness to pounce and kill.
Devon and the other merfolk had no idea why Yuan Zhan was so enraged—and why there was a hint of urgency in his voice. Seeing the situation was turning sour, Devon quickly interjected, “Chief Zhan, I’ve heard that Lord Mo has been summoned to the High Priest’s Island. Unless it’s a matter of great importance, the High Priest won’t receive outsiders. Why don’t you wait a little longer? Once the discussions are over, the High Priest will have his warriors escort Lord Mo back.”
“Then take me to the High Priest’s Island.” Yuan Zhan was also struggling to contain himself.
“Chief Zhan, it’s not that we don’t want to take you there, but without the High Priest’s orders, we cannot simply approach the island.” Devon’s expression pleaded, “Please don’t put us in a difficult position.”
Yuan Zhan couldn’t tell if the merman was truly in a bind, nor did he care. He was convinced the merman was hiding something from him—his priest must be in danger right now.
He wasn’t acting rashly, nor was he the type to lose his composure. If Mo didn’t have the Fruit of Shamanic Fortune inside him, he might have sought an audience with the merfolk High Priest in a different way; after all, the merfolk were far more powerful than Jiuyuan.
But now he didn’t know if the merfolk High Priest had already discovered through some means that Mo possessed the Fruit of Shamanic Fortune. He feared the High Priest might attempt to extract it from Mo’s body, and Mo had already made it clear: unless the Fruit chose to leave of its own accord, any forced extraction would cause him immense harm—perhaps even death.
Given this, coupled with Ramon’s evasive and ambiguous attitude, how could Yuan Zhan not be anxious?
If Ramon knew that his overly honest expression had caused Yuan Zhan to grow suspicious, he would surely practice his facial expressions intently by the lake.
And at this very moment, Ramon—who was not skilled at hiding his true emotions—was swimming at full speed toward the High Priest’s Island.
But once he reached the vicinity, he didn’t dare approach the shore to investigate; he could only watch from a distance. However, the heavy rain blurred his vision, and with no stars or moon in the night sky, everything appeared hazy.
Before he knew it, Ramon had drifted closer and closer to the southern beach of the High Priest’s Island.
“Have you forgotten my orders?”
A sinister voice startled Ramon into whipping his tail and spinning around. “Lord Yu Wu!”
“You haven’t answered my question yet.” The handsome man seemed to be sitting atop the waves.
Ramon, breaking out in a cold sweat, replied, “The Jiuyuan chief is searching for their priest.”
“Searching? Doesn’t he know that child is with me?”
“He does. I’ve already told him, but he demands to see their priest immediately. He… Chief Zhan is very worried about their priest.”
“What’s there to worry about? Am I going to eat him or something?” The man found it amusing. “Their priest brings me pleasure, and I can offer Jiuyuan benefits in return.”
“Well…” Ramon was seething inside but didn’t know how to voice his complaints.
“Speak!”
Ramon dared not criticize his own High Priest, so he could only stammer, “Jiuyuan is quite different from us merfolk, and even from the humans we know.”
“How so?”
“They have the Nine Rules and Three Orders, one of which stipulates that a person may have only one spouse.”
“Oh? Is that so?”
Ramon looked as if he were about to cry. “I reported this to the Chief before. I also told you about it last time when you wanted to see Lord Mo. Have you… have you forgotten?”
He hadn’t forgotten; he’d simply paid it no mind.
Ramon clenched his teeth. “I also told you that the young priest of Jiuyuan and their chief seem to be a couple.” He hadn’t known this before, but the Jiuyuan chief had ‘specifically’ told several merfolk warriors about it—and Ramon was one of them.
“So what?”
“It seems they require spouses to be faithful to one another. Once a relationship is established, they can’t mate with anyone else.”
“Oh? Do humans have rules like that?” The man made no attempt to hide his surprise.
“Yes.”
“Including their chief?”
“I suppose so.” Ramon didn’t actually know if the Jiuyuan chief would abide by that rule.
“No wonder that kid was dead set against it…” The man curled his lip. This was the first time he’d encountered a human priest who refused him. He preferred the warm, supple bodies of humans over those of any other intelligent race. In the past, human priests would come to the shore of their own accord to seek his and the merfolk’s protection, summoning him with offerings before lying on the sand and letting him have his way—and judging by their expressions, they’d clearly enjoyed it.
If he took a fancy to a human priest, all he had to do was show the slightest interest, and the other party would immediately and happily offer up their body; some priests even considered it an honor to be chosen by him. Back then, when several human tribes along the coast selected priests, they would always pick the most attractive person in the tribe.
Humans had never been a species faithful to their mates. If they had the ability and the opportunity, they would have sex with different people—not only to satisfy their desires, but also to leave as many descendants as possible.
The sea was teeming with food, and every priestess capable of bearing children longed to conceive his child—to give birth to a new race that could live freely in the water. Yet, to this day, not a single one has succeeded.
For this reason, the attitude of that young priest, Yan Mo, took him completely by surprise. It made him want to possess that little thing all the more—not out of lust, but purely for the sake of conquest.
Meanwhile, Ramon heard that Yan Mo was unwilling and was on the verge of tears. “You promised me you would never force the priest of Jiuyuan.”
“I didn’t force him. I was just teasing him.” He certainly wouldn’t admit that halfway through teasing, he’d actually gotten aroused, nor would he admit that he’d been using threats and bribes all along—and that after actually resorting to force, the guy had still managed to escape…
“So you didn’t force Lord Yan Mo to mate with you?” Ramon was overjoyed. He’d brought Yan Mo to meet the High Priest; if Yan Mo consented to anything with the High Priest, that was his own business. But if Yan Mo refused and the High Priest acted recklessly, it would spark a war between Jiuyuan and the merfolk—and they wouldn’t have the moral high ground.
When night fell and he still hadn’t heard the High Priest’s summons, he assumed Yan Mo must have agreed to exchange his body for something from the High Priest—which, in their eyes, was a perfectly ordinary matter. As long as there was no coercion, it was perfectly normal for two humans, or any two beings of different races, to take a liking to one another, roll around together, and even produce children.
Ramon was anxious because of Yuan Zhan’s attitude. No man—especially a powerful one—could tolerate his mate mating with another male, even if he did so willingly.
In his heart, Ramon admired the young priest Yan Mo for offering his body in exchange for something with the High Priest. For the sake of the tribe, this young priest had truly sacrificed a great deal. Because of this, Ramon did not want to see a rift form between the chief of Jiuyuan and the young priest, nor did he want to see the young priest looking sad and distressed.
Likewise, he was even more reluctant to see the merfolk and the Jiuyuan tribe turn against each other—or even come to blows—over this matter.
Ramon found his clan’s High Priest, who was notoriously capricious and had lived for who knew how long, to be a constant headache. But the chief had made it clear: as long as the High Priest didn’t go mad one day and decide to wipe out all the merfolk, he was free to do as he pleased. How could Ramon possibly dare to defy the High Priest’s orders?
Most importantly, the High Priest had promised him he would never force the young priest!
“Lord Yu, is Lord Mo still on the beach?”
“Hmph.”
What did that “hmph” mean? Ramon stared blankly at their High Priest.
Yu Wu swiped him far away with a flick of his tail.
Ramon swam back, gritting his teeth against the pain, and mustered his courage to ask, “Where’s Lord Mo? Are you two done talking? Should I take him back?”
“He’s gone.”
“…What?”
“I said he’s gone.”
“How could he just vanish when he was perfectly fine?!” Ramon was on the verge of losing his mind! He had to report this to the tribal chief—he had to make the chief arrest Lord Yu Wu and never let him out again!
Yuan Zhan was also on the brink of rage by the lake. No matter what he said, these damned merfolk refused to take him to the High Priest’s Island or bring Mo back.
“I’ll say this one last time: take me to the High Priest’s Island. I need to see my priest immediately!”
“We’ve already sent warriors to find Ramon. Chief Zhan, please wait a little longer…”
Yuan Zhan refused to wait any longer. He used his powers to instantly turn the twenty or so mermaid warriors by the lake into stone balls, leaving them only a few tiny air holes.
“Watch them. Hu Hu, send someone back to relay the message: have all the tribes prepare for battle!”
“Yes, sir!”
Lightning flashed and thunder roared in the sky. “Jie—!” A piercing cry filled with sorrow and hatred echoed from the distance.
“Jiufeng—!” Yuan Zhan bellowed at the top of his lungs. Fearing Jiufeng might not hear him, he took out his horn and blew it loudly.
“Jie—!” Jiufeng’s massive form approached rapidly, but just as it flew over the lake, it plummeted from the sky as if exhausted.
Splash! The lake’s waves surged.
Yuan Zhan plunged into the lake, convinced that Yan Mo must be with Jiufeng.
At the bottom of the lake, Jiufeng lay in the mud, a faint current of air surrounding it, keeping it separate from the water and silt.
Yuan Zhan pushed aside Jiufeng’s wings and parted its claws, searching frantically for Yan Mo.
Where is Mo? Where is he?!
He couldn’t see a thing in the murky water. After searching over and over again and confirming that Yan Mo was indeed nowhere nearby, Yuan Zhan dragged Jiufeng ashore.
As soon as they reached the shore, he demanded of Jiufeng, “Where is Mo?”
“Jie…” Jiufeng let out a weak cry. Hurry and save Mo Mo—he’s been caught by a giant fish!
Yuan Zhan couldn’t understand Jiufeng’s cries. The less he understood, the more frantic he became. Jiufeng was in such a state—though there were no obvious wounds on its body, its exhausted appearance clearly indicated it had just been through a fierce battle, and Jiufeng was the one who had lost.
“Can you still fly, Jiufeng? Can you hear me? If you can still fly, take me to find Mo!”
Jiufeng understood. He struggled to lift his body, flapped his wings, and soared into the sky.
Yuan Zhan took off running, then pushed off the ground with all his might, leaping into the air to grab Jiufeng’s ankle.
Jiufeng’s body sagged, but he forced out a shriek and charged once more toward the High Priest’s Island.
