CHAPTER 289: ARRAY CONJURER

With them agreeing so fast, I hadn't even had the chance to bring up the Sky Grade Technique.

Why did they agree so quickly when they shot down Song Song's suggestion outright?

I had assumed they would refuse any warfare or guard-type positions or anything that allowed Song Song to build an army.

What was happening here?

Sure, in the hierarchy of things, her elder position was lower than mine. But she would be in charge of fighters. And with how dangerous Song Song already was without an army, I never thought they'd agree.

Did they underestimate the danger simply because armies meant little in this world compared to a powerful cultivator? No, even they understood that numbers carried their own kind of power.

Unless… they didn’t think Song Song was charismatic enough to rally people to her cause? No, that assumption felt too naive.

Perhaps some of the inner elders had already anticipated our moves and had quietly coordinated their own.

“Does anyone have any issues with Song Song becoming the Elder of Open Field Warfare?” Zun Gon asked.

No one raised a word of protest.

Song Song looked at me. I gave her a small nod; this was still a good position to take.

“Good. From today onward, Song Song, along with the Elder of Defensive Warfare and others in similar positions, will begin working on building up a defensive force and possible retaliation team against the monstrous beasts,” Zun Gon announced. “This winter, we must make them bleed heavily!”

That declaration earned several nods of approval.

“I’d also like to raise another issue,” I said, lifting a hand. “Song Song is now an elder directly involved in warfare and one of the Sect’s top talents. I’d like to formally suggest we grant her a Sky Grade Technique so we don’t lose face compared to the other great sects.”

A heavy silence fell across the room. The elders looked at each other, waiting for someone else to speak.

“Who agrees to give Song Song a Sky Grade Technique? Raise their hands,” Zun Gon said and didn’t raise his own.

Song Song and I raised ours. No one else followed.

So they were fine handing her an army as long as she couldn’t sharpen her own blade. It was a calculated trade; they'd give the illusion of power while withholding the real threat.

“Well, it seems that after she’s already been given a commanding position, handing over a Sky Grade Technique would be too much,” one of the Core Elders said calmly.

Ah. Now I saw it. They had expected this proposition and preemptively agreed on it. The position was allowed as bait, something they could grant while denying the truly dangerous reward.

“I was also given a high position, higher than hers, and I was granted a Sky Grade Technique,” I pointed out.

“Your situation was different,” Zun Gon said, speaking against me for the first time since our meeting with the immortal. “Back then, you were the only promising talent. And in Song Song’s case, we don’t want to appear nepotistic. If she wants a Sky Grade Technique, she can ask her father.”

Nepotism…?

Did this guy realize that nearly every elder position here existed because of nepotism?

It was too stupid a reason to argue against.

Even if we had tried to leverage her position for the technique, they would never have approved it. I tried to push harder, but it was no use. Eventually, I dropped the issue for now.

Even Zun Gon didn’t back me up. He was drawing a line to how far he was willing to support me. They all thought she was too dangerous and would use the technique recklessly.

Which… wasn’t completely wrong.

The meeting dragged on with more minor reports, but I couldn’t help but feel disappointed that I hadn’t secured the Sky Grade Technique for Song Song.

Then the meeting ended and we walked outside, with some of the elders still talking and making some schedules when to meet again.

Song Song wore her usual nonchalant mask, but a single muscle twitched in her jaw. That was all. But I knew her too well to miss it.

Once we were outside, we flew upward in silence. Once we were above earshot, I cast a silencing array.

“That went better than expected,” Song Song said.

“You think so?” I asked.

“We both knew we weren’t getting that Sky Grade Technique, so it was useless to worry about it,” she said. “Anyway, I’m going to tell Fu Yating the good news. She did say I shouldn’t keep her anxiously waiting.”

I thought about letting those two be alone together and the chances that Song Song might bully Fu Yating, but after the help Fu Yating gave earlier, I doubted Song Song would do anything. Let them have their awkward girl bonding.

“I’m going to my first lesson with Cai Hu,” I said.

Today, I had a lesson with the Level 7 Array Conjurer. I had expected him to be at the meeting, but apparently I had to find him myself.

“Well, you go do you,” Song Song said, flying toward the house.

I remained hovering in the sky, the cold wind brushing against my robes as I expanded my senses outward, letting them flow over the Sect like a net cast across the water.

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At first, there was nothing, just the quiet hum of powerful cultivators, the gentle stirrings of formations, and the muted Qi of countless disciples. But then I caught it. A blur. A place in my perception where everything turned fuzzy and indistinct as if Qi itself refused to settle there.

I narrowed my focus and flew toward it.

The world blurred beneath me until I reached that anomaly.

And there he was, Cai Hu, standing atop a moss-covered boulder like it was a throne, one elbow resting casually against it. He looked completely relaxed as if he hadn’t just been actively hiding from my perception.

Like he’d been waiting for me all along.

He cancelled the array he had used to hide his presence, and waved at me.

“You sure found me fast,” he said. “So, you finally decided to show up for the lessons.”

“I never felt like there was some kind of schedule I had to show up for,” I said.

He shrugged. “Well, I have a lot of things to do, so you should be more conscious of my time.”

“Sorry, I’ll be more conscious next time,” I replied.

“I was joking,” he said.

I looked at his blank face, unreadable as ever. No smugness, no challenge, not even amusement. Just that calm, empty stare.

How the hell was someone supposed to know he was joking with that kind of expression?

I nodded. “What will we learn first to begin the lessons?”

“Well, first I want to know what level you’re at. So we’re going to have a bit of a spar,” he said. “Of course, a battle without incentive doesn’t bring out your best. So if you can beat me, I’ll give you a Level 7 Array.”

“Even if you weren’t an array conjurer, I wouldn’t be able to win against a Core Formation Cultivator either,” I said.

“Don’t worry, I won’t use anything above a Level 4 Array or anything that gives me an overwhelming advantage. You can use anything you want, even trickery. Try to beat me,” he said.

I nodded and didn’t wait for any official signal to start the fight. He did say trickery was allowed.

Clasping my hands together, I let the Qi within me surge. A light green, flickering like an ethereal flame. The air warped as an array formed around us, translucent blue walls crackling with lightning, each bolt eager and erratic.

Without hesitation, I triggered its core function: an auto-attack based on carbon dioxide. Anything that so much as exhaled would be targeted.

The moment he breathed, thunder cracked. A serpent of lightning snapped out, hissing toward him like it had already claimed his scent.

“Interesting,” Cai Hu said just as the bolt neared.

A circular shield-like array formed before him, and the lightning smashed into it. The shield cracked. But it saved him from getting hit.

“This triggers on breath, right? How did you even make that condition work? I’ve never seen something like this,” he said.

Even as he spoke, he formed another array; it looked like a cage surrounding us. Smart. That way, the lightning wouldn’t strike the bars and collapse the structure. My array worked on the logic that lightning was a lazy energy and would take the easiest path to its target.

“This is called the Chained Sealing Array,” he added.

By now, a crackling ball of lightning had gathered at the top of my own array.

It coiled like a serpent preparing to strike, then unleashed its fury. Over a dozen bolts of lightning shot down. Each one chased after Cai Hu with divine vengeance.

But he wasn’t idle.

His array flared with heat, warping the air around him. Fiery chains burst out, thick molten links clashing against my lightning. The battlefield exploded into chaos, blinding white and burning orange flaring back and forth.

Shockwaves rippled. Mud flew around. Earth cracked.

Every bolt I summoned was met by a burning chain.

But Cai Hu adapted fast.

He found the rhythm of my lightning. More and more chains burst forth, twisting like serpents. They surged toward me, too many, too fast and in the form of a net. No room to dodge.

Time De-Accel.

My heart thudded.

I activated my Foundation Technique. Time crawled. The flames slowed to a standstill, suspended mid-air like a mural frozen in divine pause.

I didn’t waste the borrowed time. Six more arrays layered atop my thunder array, fusing into a new construct. I poured in over half my Qi.

A stationary jade armor formed, not around me, but around Cai Hu, sealing him in place.

Time for him to taste his own medicine.

I mirrored his technique: reversing the sealing concept.

From above, chains of flame burst from the heavens, wrapping around Cai Hu in a mockery of his own style.

Clap.

My hands met, thunder echoing like a divine verdict.

“Seal.”

Everything halted.

The chains locked.

Fire dimmed.

Cai Hu’s Qi… stopped. Stilled at its source, frozen like a river buried under glacial ice.

I had him.

Or… did I?

Cracks formed in the jade armor. Shimmering fissures like ice underfoot. Cai Hu trembled, not from fear but from the pressure of his Qi surging.

Then–

BOOM!

A shockwave blasted outward. His Core Formation Qi surged like a tidal wave. My sealing array shattered, breaking into a thousand shards. The fire chains burst into mist.

He stood untouched. His presence alone warped the battlefield. Power coiled around him like a beast and his expression was unreadable.

“Not bad,” he said. Then, raising a hand, the pressure vanished like it had never been. “I lost. The deal was that I wouldn’t use my cultivation. You sealed me, and I had no time to respond with another array. So I concede.”

At least he was fair.

Then he looked at me a bit too long.

A small smile crept across his lips.

“I’ve had this suspicion ever since you broke my Silver Mirror Sealing Array when the siblings were fighting,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “But your element isn’t jade… is it?”

“It might, or it might not be,” I shrugged.

“Your array conjuring speed is off the charts,” Cai Hu said. “Even with my senses as a Core Formation Cultivator, I barely saw what happened and the arrays were conjured in almost an instant.”

I already knew that.

“Anything I should work on?” I asked.

“That move of copying my array was a bit reckless,” he said. “But I guess with your secret technique that allows you to erect arrays so fast, it isn’t really a problem.”

He rubbed his chin, eyes narrowing slightly as if weighing some great cosmic dilemma. Seconds stretched into a minute, then more. The silence dragged on long enough for my anticipation to turn into mild boredom.

“Anything troubling you?” I inquired.

“No, just trying to think about what Level 7 Array to give you.”

I had to try real hard to keep the grin off my face when he said that. Otherwise, he might take it the wrong way.