After Deacon Yang departed, Elder Zhang's indifferent facade vanished. The window for uncontested acquisition was closing. He moved swiftly, lifting Li Yao and streaking from the Hall of the Suspended Mirror as a beam of divine light.
Normally, an elder on duty could not abandon their post. Rules existed for order. But rules, to Elder Zhang, were subordinate to value. A future Great Power was a strategic asset worth bending protocols for. Li Yao understood this calculus perfectly: he was a high-priority acquisition triggering an exception.
Enveloped in the divine rainbow, the world blurred into streaks of light. The speed was beyond Li Yao's ability to perceive. He felt no thrill, only a clinical note on the differential in mobility between his current state and that of a true power. Elder Zhang's perceived slowness was a measure of his anxiety.
As they descended onto a majestic, sun-drenched island, another powerful aura arrived just a fraction too late.
"Brother Li Zhong," a resonant voice rang out, "what brings you to my Rising Sun Divine Island with such urgency?"
Li Yao's gaze followed the voice. Two figures stood opposed in the sky, their auras distorting space, making the very firmament seem insubstantial. The pressure was a physical force.
The speaker was a middle-aged man in resplendent armor, a divine general incarnate. Opposite him stood an elderly man, his white hair wild, radiating the pure, blazing power of the Yao Guang legacy.
"Zhang Chong, you know why I am here," the elder—Li Zhong—replied, his voice hoarse but unwavering.
Now on the island, the ambient spiritual energy was denser still. The Heavenly Book's absorption rate increased another order of magnitude. Energy cycled through Li Yao's body, further refining it. This was not a conscious act, but a system operating at higher efficiency due to improved environmental conditions. The side effect was an intensification of his apparent Daoist aura, making him shine like a polished gem in the eyes of the onlookers.
To them, he was a pre-cultivation prodigy whose body instinctively devoured essence—a sign of heaven's favor and boundless latent potential. The misperception, born from the Heavenly Book's hidden function, was now the central fact of his value.
Zhang Chong's eyes held a spark of triumph. Elder Zhang had briefed him via spiritual message. This was a standard resource-grab. The first faction to physically secure the asset gained a powerful negotiating position. Once Li Yao had entered Rising Sun Island's territory, the game's parameters shifted.
"Li Zhong," Zhang Chong stated, his politeness shed, "my father acted within the rules of his post. The allocation of newly cleared disciplines falls under his purview. Even before the Holy Lord, our position holds."
Li Yao observed a passive datum at the center of the conflict. He pieced together the cause: the Heavenly Book's passive absorption, mistaken for innate divine talent, had sparked a bidding war. The Suspended Mirror's clearance—proving he had no prior cultivation—made the phenomenon seem even more miraculous.
Li Zhong's expression was dark. He was late. Had he intercepted them in transit, he could have claimed precedent. Now, the asset was in the rival's stronghold. The cost of retrieval had skyrocketed.
"This disciple was identified and retrieved by a deacon of my Dragon Head Peak," Li Zhong asserted, his logic strained. "His disposition is our affair."
Zhang Chong laughed, a short, sharp sound. "Since when do missions undertaken in the name of the Holy Land belong to a single peak? Your reasoning is as thin as gossamer."
As Zhang Chong spoke, a blazing, purifying divine light—the signature power of Rising Sun Island—swelled around him.
"Enough. You cannot alter this outcome alone. And you are not alone," Zhang Chong said, his voice echoing. In response, several other formidable auras erupted from deep within the island, tilting the balance of power palpably.
Li Yao registered the increased pressure, analyzing the implied threat matrix. A direct fight was improbable. Internal faction strife had limits; open warfare would bring intervention from the neutral Holy Lord's lineage, a loss for all involved. This was a game of territorial claim and demonstrated force.
As predicted, Li Zhong, facing overwhelming home-territory advantage, could only retreat. He shot a final, penetrating look at Li Yao—not of personal resentment, but the gaze of a strategist who has lost a valuable piece— before vanishing in a flash of light.
The confrontation ended not with a bang, but with a tactical withdrawal.
Li Yao felt no personal relief at being "won" by Rising Sun Island. He felt the slight easing of an immediate logistical friction. The factional struggle was a distraction, a noisy, inefficient allocation process.
What he required was not a patron, but stability. A quiet place to receive the scripture, to activate the Heavenly Book's first major deduction, and to begin the actual work of building power. This spectacle had been a waste of time, a demonstration of the institutional inefficiencies he would need to navigate and ultimately transcend.
His destiny was not to be a prize fought over by peaks and islands. It was to become the unassailable force that rendered such squabbles irrelevant