Chapter Ninety-Six: Watching the Play, Manipulating the Tide of Battle

Hu Yihu stared blankly at Cang Ling, never having imagined she could be so powerful. The shock from her repeated use of spatial transference just now was overwhelming, and now she stood atop the Crimson Fire Qilin. That fearsome battle beast, usually so unruly, lay obediently at her feet, even whining in an attempt to please her. This made Hu Yihu’s eyes widen even further.

“Master Cang… please, look at Lin Nan. Her injuries are serious,” Hu Mo hurriedly carried Lin Nan to Cang Ling’s side, then immediately sat cross-legged atop the Crimson Fire Qilin to begin his cultivation. His reserves were nearly depleted, the three treasures within him pushed to the brink of collapse. He had to admit, this level of combat was truly headache-inducing.

Cang Ling smiled faintly and casually tapped Lin Nan on the forehead. A strand of golden light flowed from her fingertip into the center of Lin Nan’s brow, and Lin Nan’s pale face instantly regained much of its color.

Slowly, Lin Nan opened her eyes, immediately seeing Hu Mo cultivating nearby. Her expression shifted, and she was about to speak, but Cang Ling interrupted coldly, “Don’t worry, he’s fine—just exhausted his strength. Next time, use your head. With your current cultivation, you’re barely a morsel for others.”

Cang Ling’s words were blunt, and Lin Nan simply nodded softly, saying, “I understand.”

“Elder Cang, we really owe you our thanks. If you hadn’t arrived in time, my grandson and I would be reuniting with our ancestors,” Hu Yihu said with a forced smile. The pressure he felt before Cang Ling was immense.

Cang Ling’s expression softened slightly, her lips curling into a gentle smile. “Old Hu, you flatter me. When my disciple is in danger, as her master, how could I not intervene?”

As she spoke, her gaze fell upon the six still locked in combat. Seated atop the Crimson Fire Qilin, she seemed to be enjoying a performance.

Watching the embattled Yan Jiuyan and Yan Jiulin, Hu Yihu’s expression grew increasingly strange. He wanted to say something, but held back, merely sighing and looking away.

Noticing Hu Yihu’s reaction, Cang Ling laughed lightly and asked, “What’s the matter, Old Master Hu? Sit and enjoy the show. Aren’t those two fond of putting on an act for others? Wouldn’t it be a shame not to watch?”

Though her face bore a smile, her tone was laced with unmistakable chill—a coldness as though the two were her mortal enemies.

Hu Yihu’s face twitched, and he forced a bitter smile. “Elder Cang, this is a show I really can’t watch. To be honest, those brothers are fiercely loyal to the royal family; otherwise they wouldn’t have acted as they did. At heart, they’re not bad men.”

“Oh? Is that so? Yet they tried to kill my disciple—your own grandson. That’s an undeniable fact. I hold fast to my principles: ‘Do unto others as they do unto you.’ If they bring death upon themselves, they have only themselves to blame. Besides, should they die, it will be by the hands of those four—not us,” Cang Ling replied unreservedly, all the while maintaining her harmless smile.

Hearing this, Hu Yihu could only sigh, silently watching the six engaged in their furious struggle.

Yan Jiuyan and Yan Jiulin had been driven to madness. The roles had shifted so dramatically: the audience had become the performers. Their hearts churned with resentment, helplessness, and a deep, gnawing fear.

Was that woman truly the “master” Hu Yihu spoke of? Such formidable mastery over spatial transference—few, even among ninth-level Battle Saints, could compare. Could she be a War God? Or had she surpassed even that realm? They dared not imagine, yet their minds raced with wild speculation. This time, they truly faced disaster.

Han Xiaotian, the leader of the Four Dragons of Ice, was equally shaken. Only moments before, they were relieved the Yan brothers hadn’t attacked them, preparing instead to strike down Hu Mo and Hu Yihu with overwhelming force. Yet, as their assault began, they suddenly found themselves targeting the Yan brothers instead. They were caught completely off guard.

Still, veterans of countless battles, the four quickly adjusted, their seamless coordination reversing the flow of combat. They launched even fiercer assaults, their water power pouring forth in a spectacular display.

Nor were the Yan brothers easily subdued. After their brief shock, they coordinated fire and wood elements with practiced ease. Fire feeds on wood; Yan Jiuyan’s power soared to its peak.

He let out a roar, and flames instantly engulfed the battlefield, driving out the biting cold. Cang Ling, cheek in hand, watched the battle with interest, murmuring, “These four little ones are far too weak. Calling themselves the Four Dragons of Ice—isn’t that presumptuous? At this rate, those two might just win.”

A faint smile tugged at her lips, sending a chill through those nearby. It was clear she was about to intervene.

Neither group held any fondness for Cang Ling. But if one side so obviously overpowered the other, the show would lose all suspense—and that was not the outcome she desired.

She rose, a surge of water energy radiating from her. The Crimson Fire Qilin beneath her instantly grew restless, shifting uneasily.

“Hold still. I know you don’t like it. Just a moment more. Honestly, for a seventh-level battle beast to get captured like this—pathetic. Clearly, I need to train you properly,” Cang Ling scolded, stomping her foot on the beast’s head. It howled in pain.

Beside them, the Fire Universe Beast lay silent and motionless, naturally wary of water energy.

Hu Yihu, puzzled by Cang Ling’s intentions, watched as she raised her hand and pointed skyward. A mass of water energy gathered at her fingertip, coalescing into a blue-white cloud high above. A terrifying chill emanated from it, causing the two fire beasts to tremble uncontrollably.

Lin Nan stood quietly by Hu Mo’s side, feeling the immense chill. Her body and mind relaxed completely—she knew this was the awe of true strength. In her eyes, Cang Ling was nothing short of divine.

Hu Mo, absorbed in nurturing his three treasures, would have gaped in astonishment at the scene before him. To refine the water of chaos to such a degree—“monstrous” was the only word for it.

Cang Ling smiled and pushed the cloud toward the battlefield, her expression serene. Hu Yihu’s heart sank as he sighed inwardly, “They really are doomed now.”

Indeed, the Four Dragons of Ice, previously on the verge of collapse, were instantly invigorated by the immense power of the cloud. Their cultivation surged, and they reclaimed the advantage. Under the cloud’s influence, the rising flames were compressed to a mere flicker; the wild expressions of the Yan brothers froze in an instant.

“Brother, look out!” Yan Jiulin shouted as a greenish light burst from him. Nearby trees surged with life, growing madly to entangle the Four Dragons of Ice and halt their attack.

But it was futile. The vigorous vines were smashed apart by the ice dragons, their fragments turning to emerald ice before touching the ground. At this rate, the Yan brothers were doomed.

“Elder Cang, didn’t you say you were just watching? This seems—”

“Ah? Old Master Hu, are you saying the show’s unfair? I see. Then I’ll balance things out a bit,” Cang Ling interrupted, raising her hand again. Two orbs of light flew forth—one crimson, one green—radiating fire and wood energy.

The two orbs deftly entered the bodies of Yan Jiuyan and Yan Jiulin, causing their powers to swell.

Cang Ling, like a sovereign orchestrator, watched the battlefield with a smile. Every gesture of hers shifted the tide of battle, leaving Hu Yihu dumbfounded.

Hu Mo slowly opened his eyes, taking in the changes. He couldn’t help but curse, “Damn, this is unreal! When did they get so strong?”

A flurry of knuckle-raps landed on his head, making him clutch it in pain.

“Those are your master’s handiwork. Not satisfied?” Cang Ling snapped, her expression sending a chill down Hu Mo’s spine.

“Uh… Master did great, truly wonderful,” Hu Mo bobbed his head like a puppet, inwardly guessing the truth. This master was too formidable. She always claimed she wouldn’t kill, but wasn’t this just as deadly? Borrowing another’s hand to kill—this was the cruelest method of all.

Did the six in the arena not understand? They were like beasts in a coliseum, forced to fight for their audience’s amusement. How could anyone bear such humiliation?

Gradually, the six ceased their battle, hovering in midair as they turned to glare at the delighted Cang Ling.

Their murderous intent and resentment were palpable, sending a chill through Hu Mo and the others. In the face of a common enemy, the group had found sudden unity.

“Han Xiaotian, let’s settle things with them first—then we’ll finish our business. I trust you have no objections,” Yan Jiuyan said coldly, his eyes blazing with battle-lust.

“Ha! That suits me perfectly!” Han Xiaotian shouted. The Four Dragons of Ice responded in unison, four icy dragons surging into the sky—a magnificent sight.

Cang Ling was momentarily surprised, but her smile soon returned, her gaze as cold as water as she looked upon the six, as if she were already seeing their corpses.

“Well then, if you insist on being disobedient, let’s play a little longer.”