The Fisherman and the Oriole

"My suggestion is that you join a well-funded faction," Tang Yue said. "They'll supply the resources, and you'll have a real path forward. Of course, you'd have to do exactly as they say from that point on — they'd be burning through a fortune on your behalf, after all."

"Teacher Tang Yue, I couldn't help but notice you've got quite the backing yourself. Why not take me under your care — keep me close — and from that day forward... I'd walk through fire and blades for you. No exceptions."

"Say one more word like that—!" Tang Yue's cheeks went scarlet. She fixed the shameless student with a look that could strip paint. *Did he think she couldn't hear the filth buried in that little speech?!*

Mo Fan decided not to push his luck. He still needed this teacher in his corner — a little teasing was fine, but go too far and he'd be digging his own grave.

After Pan Xiong's hunter-mage squad moved off, the two of them slipped quietly into the trail behind. They kept their distance; in broad daylight, Tang Yue's Shadow Element skills were far from perfect and could be detected far too easily.

Following the group's tracks, teacher and student eventually found the stream's source.

The source had once been dammed into a small reservoir — nothing remained now but a cracked expanse of dried mud, littered with the bleached bones of long-dead fish.

"So many people. I knew this kind of news would be impossible to keep quiet." From their hiding place, Tang Yue and Mo Fan both spotted the two separate parties that had already converged on the dried-up reservoir.

One was the hunter-mage team from before — Pan Xiong, the scar-faced man, the cowboy-haired man, and seven more besides, ten in total. They stood close to a rocky cliff face, every muscle coiled, as though bracing for a siege.

The other group had apparently only just arrived. Four people, each carrying an air of cool superiority. They didn't look the least bit intimidated by the ten-man hunter team across from them.

"Pan Xiong." The group's leader spoke with quiet contempt — a man dressed in an ornate, classical Tang-style robe. "Unless you want to spend the rest of your days begging on the streets of Hangzhou, take your people and get out. When the Dongfang Clan sets its sights on a Fire Element Spirit Seed, there's no such thing as splitting the spoils."

Every detail of the man's appearance was immaculate — not a single hair out of place. Walk him down any street and he'd hold the attention of every passerby within a block.

*The Dongfang Clan?*

Mo Fan's mind started turning. In every novel and drama he'd ever watched, characters with compound surnames always turned out to be someone you didn't want to cross. Apparently real life was no different — the moment this man opened his mouth, it was *the Dongfang Clan*, with all the gravity of a royal house behind it.

"So they're from the Dongfang Clan," Tang Yue murmured to herself. "Arrogant as ever, but then they've earned it. Their family is renowned for Fire Element — and this Spirit Seed surfaced on their home turf in Hangzhou. No way they'd let someone else get there first."

Tang Yue's own focus was Fire Element, so she'd naturally kept tabs on the more prominent Fire-affinity clans in the country.

"They're about to come to blows." Mo Fan watched the tension escalate between the two groups. "But where's the man with the cap?"

"Hiding somewhere nearby," Tang Yue said. "He's letting these two fight it out so he can move in and claim the prize once they've worn each other down. Classic fisherman's gambit."

"What do we do?"

"We're the oriole behind the mantis." A flash of cold resolve crossed Tang Yue's eyes. "Whatever happens, we bring Jiang Lu down before this is over."

Even as they spoke, the Dongfang Clan's four had already launched themselves at Pan Xiong's hunter-mages.

All four from the Dongfang Clan were Fire Element mages. The moment they committed to the attack, each conjured a roiling ball of flame in their palms — and Mo Fan could barely detect even the faintest startup motion. Basic-Level Fire Element magic, Fire Burst, deployed with such practiced ease it might as well have been instinct.

*Damn. All four of them are Intermediate-Level Mages.* The Dongfang Clan clearly didn't send amateurs — every single one dispatched to claim this Spirit Seed was Intermediate Level. Back in Bo City, any one of them would have been considered a major figure.

Pan Xiong's side wasn't to be underestimated either. The auras radiating from Pan Xiong, the scar-faced man, and the cowboy-haired man all read as Intermediate Level. And the remaining seven, while Basic-Level, were clearly the cream of the crop — every one of them completing their Level 3 Basic Elemental Magic spells in under three seconds.

This was one seriously elite hunter-mage squad — more than capable of taking down Battle-General-class Demon-Beasts.

"We need more distance," Tang Yue said, taking Mo Fan's arm. "I don't want us caught in the crossfire." Her steps were light and precise as she guided them into the shade of a large tree.

The world blurred. Mo Fan felt as though he'd plunged into a void of absolute darkness, the entire landscape erasing itself around him—

When his vision cleared, he found himself standing over thirty meters away, beneath the tangled shadow of a vine-draped tree. He stared at Tang Yue, unable to quite process what had just happened.

"That's Shadow Fade — a Basic-Level Shadow Element skill," she said, composure perfectly intact, a small confident smile on her face. That smile — effortlessly poised, effortlessly dazzling — hit Mo Fan square in the chest and stirred something he didn't quite have a name for.

*Powerful, mysterious, completely unreadable.* That kind of magnetism didn't come from any one thing — it radiated from everywhere at once. Even the most guarded man would have struggled not to fall a little under its spell.

On the other side of the clearing, the battle between the Dongfang Clan and the elite hunter-mage team had erupted into full chaos. Fire Burst detonations hammered the hillside in rapid succession, the blasts incinerating what little of the surrounding vegetation had survived the drought, turning the area into a roaring wall of flame.

Watching carefully, Mo Fan noticed that none of the Intermediate-Level Mages on either side had opened with Intermediate magic.

*Of course they didn't.* Intermediate magic required locking down forty-nine Star Motes and completing the full Star Chart before Release. By the time you finished drawing it, you'd already eaten three or four Basic spells from the other side.

Basic magic was weaker — but the speed difference was everything.

"Cover me," the Tang-robed man commanded his companions, cool and sharp. "Let them taste the Blazing Fist."

The three fell into practiced formation without a word — a tight triangle, closing ranks around him.

Star Mote by Star Mote, the chain began to take shape. Star Trails lit up and interlocked, weaving rapidly beneath the Tang-robed man's feet until the full Star Chart blazed into existence.

The moment the Star Chart completed, crimson fire engulfed him entirely. He looked like a spirit of vengeance wreathed in flame, a scorching pressure rolling off him in waves, the already sweltering air spiking into something that felt like the belly of a furnace.

"Blazing Fist: Heaven Shatter!"

The instant the shout rang out, his three companions threw themselves to either side.

The Tang-robed man gathered every tongue of flame into his right fist. That stance. That form. That raw, surging power.

*I know this move.* Mo Fan watched, and recognition hit him like a fist to the chest.