Ye Chenfeng walked along the path, buoyed by the excitement of securing a lucrative deal. Old Zhao had mentioned he needed to discuss it further, but Ye Chenfeng felt confident that the agreement was as good as sealed. For once, he hadn't cut corners; he had even sacrificed half of his profit to accommodate the fluctuating costs of magic crystals and other materials. His youthful exuberance brimmed over. "Soon, I'll be spending without even glancing at the price tag," he thought, amused by the prospect.
"I'm not interested in money; it's just a number," he mused. "Ideals, though—that's what really matters." He chuckled aloud, unable to contain his joy. But lost in his reverie, he failed to notice the shadow that trailed him.
"What's making him laugh like that?" whispered a figure cloaked in a dark robe. The observer, sensing opportunity, muttered an incantation. A strange, gray mist began to flow from his mouth, swirling around him and thickening until it formed a solid barrier. In front of it, a gate etched with chaotic runes appeared, opening to reveal ominous scarlet lights that locked onto the outside world. Out stepped grotesque, scarred figures, their decayed bodies oozing malice at the command of the man in gray.
"I followed the Lord's orders and brought three cursed beasts. Even you, Pearl Emperor, won't withstand this," the man sneered. He had done his research; Ye Chenfeng's reputation was largely based on a natural gift in the common system. His dramatic victory over the scaled-skin demon had only added to the mystique, but the man knew it was the power of the mid-level Light Mage that posed a real threat.
He smirked as the beasts advanced. "Now's the time to claim the Holy Spring," he muttered. "Cripple his limbs!"
Ye Chenfeng's happiness evaporated as he caught the sound of a swift movement. He turned, alarmed, only to see a grotesque, cursed beast lunging at him. He quickly summoned his spatial magic, forming an air shield, but it was weak from haste. The beast's claws shattered it in moments. Just as it was about to strike, a spatial explosion from Ye Chenfeng's sword startled the creature, forcing it back.
Not wasting any time, Ye Chenfeng activated his shadow magic and slipped into the dark. The power of the Black Magic Spring, which had elevated his Shadow abilities to the third level, now coursed through him. Still, the two remaining cursed beasts were relentless. They lashed out, their claws striking him and leaving gashes across his back.
Gritting his teeth against the pain, he emerged at a distance and unleashed three fourth-level fire bursts. Flames engulfed the cursed beasts, driving them back as the heat cracked the ground beneath them. His unique combination of ice and fire, strengthened by his innate talent for fusion, had boosted his power beyond the ordinary.
The man in gray felt an unexpected twinge of envy as he watched Ye Chenfeng's display. Spiritual seeds were a rare commodity—practically unattainable for someone like him, whose worth to the Black Church was little more than disposable. Jealousy morphed into fury as he stepped forward, revealing himself.
"Ye Chenfeng, hand over the Holy Spring," he commanded, voice dripping with menace. He had three general-level cursed beasts and his own dark abilities on his side; defeat seemed impossible.
Ye Chenfeng narrowed his eyes at the figure. The gray robe signified his rank as a priest of the Black Church, higher than an ordinary believer but below the more formidable blue-robed deacons. This encounter was no accident; he had let success blind him, and now he was facing the consequences.
He clenched his fists. Though tempted by grandiose dreams, Ye Chenfeng realized he had a long way to go before his ambitions would outstrip his need for wealth or recognition.