Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Golden Feathers of the Wind Spirit

There were only seven innate swords in the world, a fact unknown to Nan Luo. All he knew was that this sword, though lacking the forbidden laws of the innate Dao, was incredibly effective; a mere infusion of mana was enough to unleash unparalleled power. Any weapon that crossed its path would be damaged by the slightest scrape, broken by the lightest clash.

Having killed the Black Attendant, he had cleared away trouble for Cang Feng. Yet, when he saw more and more attendants streaming in, he realized that surrender was his only option. Alone with a single sword, he could never defeat so many; even if he could, was it possible to escape the palace thereafter? He also understood that the reason these people had not attacked him immediately was because they recognized him—the one who had slain a thousand heads, the prince of the Thousand-Headed Hall, whose name they all knew. So, just as Nan Luo was about to lay down his sword, Kong Xuan appeared. With a single wave of his hand, he scattered all present, clearing the hall completely.

Without another word, Nan Luo followed Kong Xuan away under the astonished gazes of the many attendants. The body of the slain Black Attendant was quickly dragged off, and Cang Feng was also taken away. Though he appeared gravely wounded, in truth he was merely unconscious.

Nan Luo cared nothing for the gratitude of others; he acted according to his own heart. Thus, he left before Cang Feng awoke. He believed that, though Cang Feng’s days ahead would hardly be much better than before, at least others would think twice before taking action against him.

The Grand Gathering of Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix was held once every ten years. Each time, emissaries were sent to invite those of Heavenly Lake Dragon Palace and Qilin Cliff as honored guests. In past years, this duty rotated between the three great halls, but this year, with the prince of the Thousand-Headed Hall suppressed beneath the Undying Palace by Kong Xuan, there was no one left to go to the Dragon Palace.

As the presiding host, Kong Xuan could not go in person. Thus, as Kong Xuan’s sole retainer, Nan Luo had to undertake the journey. At his own earnest request, Kong Xuan considered for a moment and then agreed.

The Heavenly Lake Dragon Palace lay to the west of Kunlun Mountain. Even with Kong Xuan’s power, flying there would take three days; for Nan Luo, who could only travel by earth escape, it would take three years. He had spoken up only out of eagerness without considering the journey. Once Kong Xuan agreed, the difficulty dawned upon him.

Seeing Nan Luo frown in contemplation, Kong Xuan laughed heartily and said, “Are you worried you won’t make it there and back within three months because the journey is too far? You need not be concerned.” As he spoke, a golden feather appeared out of thin air in his hand.

Divine light flowed around the golden feather, swirling in the wind as if it breathed and lived.

“This is a Wind-Spirit Golden Feather, existing between the innate and the acquired. With a little refinement, it will serve as a mount for your journey…” Kong Xuan declared. The golden feather rose into the air, enveloped by a swirl of five-colored mists.

Kong Xuan traced an intricate sequence of secret hand seals in the void. The golden feather tumbled within the mist, resisting the enveloping haze as though it possessed a will of its own.

Suddenly, Kong Xuan’s movements slowed. With a soft exclamation—no different in Nan Luo’s ears from his usual speech—the five-colored mist surged like a river into the golden feather. The feather trembled and vanished into the void, sinking like a sponge into water until nothing remained.

Just as Nan Luo wondered at this, a great golden roc burst forth from the empty air—majestic and spirited. If not for the dullness in its eyes, Nan Luo might have believed the feather had been transformed into a living creature.

“Ride this bird and you’ll return in no more than twenty days. It is swift beyond compare; should you encounter danger along the way, its speed will see you safely away. This is the golden invitation for the gathering—when you reach the Dragon Palace, simply present it to Ao Yuan, the current steward. You need not concern yourself with anything else; once you have their reply, you may return.” With that, Kong Xuan pointed a finger at the air, and an incantation flowed into Nan Luo’s mind.

While the chant controlled the golden feather, it encompassed the arts of concealment, escape, speed, and transformation—a complete set of techniques. Not only could it command the feather, but it was exactly what Nan Luo needed to learn at this time.

By rights, Nan Luo’s current power was insufficient to drive such a flying treasure, but this golden feather, plucked from the golden-winged roc itself, held the breath of the wind spirit. Once refined, it existed halfway between artifact and living being. Thus, Nan Luo needed only to cast the spell, and the roc would fly of its own accord, requiring no mana from him.

Nan Luo committed the incantations to memory, practiced them once, and stepped forward—suddenly appearing upon the back of the golden bird. As he performed the complex sequence of hand seals, a golden radiance surged from the roc, wrapping him within. With a gentle flap of its wings, the bird soared into the clouds with a piercing cry.

This was the first time Nan Luo had flown so high alone. Clouds brushed past him, and as he gazed into the distance, the vast rivers and mountains stretched before his eyes. Green hills and winding waters passed beneath him, and birds soaring at high altitudes tried to turn and avoid the golden light. Yet, before they could even react, the golden roc had already streaked past, vanishing into the horizon.

Once the initial excitement faded, Nan Luo grew calm. He was not the type prone to wild exuberance. In that brief moment when he first took to the skies, he felt as if a captive bird had broken free, yearning to fly in search of his kin. But it was only a passing thought. In his heart, he owed Kong Xuan a great debt of kindness, which was why he was willing to serve him. It was not that he had sold his soul, but that he wished to repay this debt—then, when the time came, depart. Even if he could never fully repay it, he hoped at least to find some solace for himself.

He did not need to control the golden roc; the straight flight would take over ten days. So Nan Luo closed his eyes and began to comprehend the set of incantations Kong Xuan had imparted. He had previously only mastered the earth escape technique, but Kong Xuan’s methods included the wind escape. Though the various escape arts all relied on drawing upon the spiritual energy of the world, without a teacher they were nearly impossible to master alone.

The art of concealment was the simplest and yet the most profound—essentially, hiding one’s body from sight and perception. Most concealment techniques could only fool someone of equal strength; anyone stronger would see through them.

After pondering for a while, Nan Luo suddenly vanished from the roc’s back. Moments later, a light laugh sounded, and he reappeared. Then, with a flash of cyan light in his hand, he patted the golden-winged roc. Instantly, both Nan Luo and the great bird vanished from the sky.