Chapter 220: A Helping Hand

Whoosh!

As his figure flickered, Yang Yan once again evaded a fierce attack from Bai Yunfei. However, instead of relief, a worried expression clouded his face.

They had been locked in a stalemate with Bai Yifei and Hou Sailei for quite some time. Not only was he reduced to mere defense with no opportunity to counterattack, but the usually formidable Lan Xue was also in a precarious situation. Hou Sailei’s bizarre martial arts technique seemed to act as a direct counter to Lan Xue’s attacks; the creature’s body, which usually shimmered with a translucent blue light, had grown noticeably dim.

At this rate, it would not take long before Lan Xue, exhausted of internal energy, reverted to its earlier gecko-like state. Once that happened, Hou Sailei and Bai Yifei would be free to join forces, and given his current state, Yang Yan knew he could not last long against the two of them.

"It seems that if I have no other choice, I must use my Primal Spiritual Power. Even if I die, I will drag these two down with me!" Yang Yan’s gaze turned cold and grim.

Most of the Primal Spiritual Power within his spiritual core was currently being used to seal the energy of the Tiger-Headed Profound Ice Python. The amount he could draw upon was minimal. If he were to fully unleash his Primal Spiritual Power, the internal seal would shatter, and the violent energy contained within would instantly cause his body to burst and perish. But he could no longer afford to worry about that; these two had forced him into a dead end.

"Rest easy, little one. When the critical moment comes, I will intervene, even if it means falling back into a deep slumber!" Just as Yang Yan was steeling his resolve, an elderly voice echoed in his mind—it was Elder Yang.

A wave of warmth flooded Yang Yan’s heart. Because his recent opponents had been so troublesome, Elder Yang had rarely communicated with him to avoid exposure. That he would speak such words during this moment of crisis stirred deep emotions in Yang Yan.

Elder Yang’s appearance had changed his life. His rapid progress in spiritual cultivation and artifact crafting was inseparable from the elder’s guidance. Yet, from the beginning until now, the elder had received no tangible benefits; Yang Yan had even failed to secure the pure, Yang-aligned items the elder required. A sense of guilt washed over him.

"Heh heh, why the long face, little one? This isn't a final farewell. Besides, I am not human—I am merely an artifact spirit. While I may not fully understand the complexities of human emotion, I know you have a mission. Until you have fully matured, I must protect you!" Elder Yang’s aged voice softened with warmth.

Yang Yan let out a long breath and nodded. He would keep this kindness in his heart and repay it tenfold when the opportunity arose. Though he was not yet qualified to know the heavy burden he would one day carry, he would strive to shoulder that responsibility to the best of his ability, if only for the sake of Elder Yang’s grace.

"Boy, hand over the Spirit Gatherer obediently, and perhaps I can spare your life. Otherwise, don't blame me for being ruthless!"

Bai Yifei had clearly caught the shifting expressions on Yang Yan’s face. He let out a cold laugh, clearly viewing Yang Yan as his prey. He was in no hurry to deliver a killing blow, instead using his exquisite movement techniques to toy with Yang Yan like a cat playing with a mouse.

Yang Yan ignored him, focusing his remaining spiritual power, ready to launch a fierce attack at any moment. Seeing Yang Yan’s silent defiance, Bai Yifei’s face darkened. He had not expected Yang Yan, already at a disadvantage, to be so stubborn. If that was the case, he would simply kill him and loot the Spirit Gatherer from his storage bag.

Having made up his mind, Bai Yifei no longer held back. He extended his slender, fair palms, and countless tiny, dense wind blades appeared. A closer look revealed that these blades were composed of his potent wind-attribute spiritual power.

Bai Yifei possessed the rare Wind-Attribute Innate Spiritual Body, which granted an terrifying boost to speed. Excluding specialized movement techniques, a cultivator with this affinity was roughly thirty percent faster than an ordinary cultivator of the same rank. In the cultivation world, where speed was often the deciding factor, this was a devastating advantage.

The other characteristic of the wind attribute was its unique offensive power. The tiny wind blades rotating in Bai Yifei’s hands possessed extreme piercing ability and sharpness, surpassing even the metal attribute, which was known for its raw attack power. Yang Yan had been struggling not just because of his depleted energy, but because of the sheer difficulty of dealing with this wind-attribute power.

The blades collided, emitting a sound like shattering glass, with sparks blooming like fireworks between his palms. It was unimaginable what would happen if those blades struck a human body. As Bai Yifei’s power surged, the blades multiplied, forming a tornado that shot toward the sky, vaporizing everything—even leaves—that touched it.

Sensing the terrifying power of the wind-blade tornado, Yang Yan’s expression grew solemn. He prepared to channel his remaining Primal Spiritual Power to withstand the attack, ready to rely on Elder Yang as a last resort.

"Bai Yifei, I will remember this debt. One day, I will pay you back tenfold!" Yang Yan thought coldly.

"Combat Tornado!"

As soon as Yang Yan’s thought solidified, Bai Yifei let out a sharp, cold shout. The tornado, as if responding to a command, tore away from his palm, sweeping toward Yang Yan with lightning speed.

Whoosh!

The violent tornado ripped up the forest floor, the earth and soil pulverized into nothingness by the razor-sharp blades. As it reached within five or six yards of him, Yang Yan felt his skin stinging as if sliced by knives even before contact.

"I’ll risk it all!"

With no path left and sensing the immense danger, Yang Yan prepared to trigger his Primal Spiritual Power. But just as he steeled himself, a thunderous laugh erupted from the sky behind him.

"Haha! Bai Yifei, Hou Sailei, bullying a junior like this? You truly are shameless!"

The resonant voice shook the earth, clearly audible to everyone. Bai Yifei, Yang Yan, and even the combatants Lan Xue and Hou Sailei paused, looking toward the sky in shock.

A figure as sturdy as an iron tower appeared. He threw a right punch at the massive wind vortex threatening Yang Yan. The air exploded in the wake of his fist, creating a compressed blast of air—an "air cannon"—that slammed directly into the center of the tornado.

With a thunderous roar, the massive vortex shattered into nothingness under the horrified gazes of those present.

Boom!

The man landed before Yang Yan with the impact of a cannonball, creating a deep crater in the ground. When everyone turned their eyes to his face, they looked as if they had seen a ghost.

"Zhan Tian?!"

The cry came from Bai Yifei and Hou Sailei. Yang Yan recognized him too; it was the envoy from the Martial Path Sect he had met at the Artifact Crafting Guild.

"Are you alright, brother Yang Yan?" Ignoring the shock of the others, the burly man named Zhan Tian patted Yang Yan on the shoulder with practiced familiarity and asked with a smile.

Yang Yan was bewildered, but since the man had saved him, he didn't want to appear cold, so he shook his head.

"Heh, this sissy's attack looks fierce, but its weakness is obvious: the center of the vortex. Hit that with enough force, and it collapses," Zhan Tian chuckled. His words made Bai Yifei’s face livid.

"Zhan Tian, don't push your luck. Do you really think I, Bai Yifei, fear you?"

Bai Yifei was usually indifferent, but those who knew him understood that he detested being called a "sissy." The three major sects had been locked in rivalry for years, and Zhan Tian knew exactly how to provoke him.

"Is that a threat? The Wind Cloud Pavilion might fear you, but the Martial Path Sect does not!" Zhan Tian sneered.

"What? Does the Martial Path Sect intend to interfere in this matter?" Bai Yifei realized that Zhan Tian had come with ill intent and was clearly standing on Yang Yan’s side.

"Such a magnificent contest—how could the Martial Path Sect not participate? However, unlike you, we have chosen to stand with Yang Yan!"

Zhan Tian’s words hit like a bombshell. Even Bai Yifei, who had been prepared for trouble, could not hide his shock. Yang Yan stood frozen as well. He had no history with the Martial Path Sect; why would they risk offending the other two major sects to save him?

Yang Yan didn't believe in miracles. There was always a motive. Zhan Tian, sensing his confusion, laughed. "Brother Yang Yan, don't be surprised. We would be hypocritical to say we have no motive. But what we value is not the Spirit Gatherer, but your talent in cultivation and artifact crafting!"

With those words, everyone understood. Whether in artifact crafting or spiritual cultivation, Yang Yan was a top-tier talent, even among the geniuses of the empire's three major sects. The three factions had reported the events at the Guild to their superiors, awaiting instructions. The Xuantian Temple and the Wind Cloud Pavilion had ordered their men to seize the Spirit Gatherer by any means necessary—ideally through persuasion, but through force if needed. If they couldn't recruit such a talented individual, they would kill him to prevent a future threat.

The Martial Path Sect, however, was different. They saw the value in the person. A Spirit Gatherer had a set price, but a genius with infinite potential was invaluable.

Yang Yan realized their intentions. The others saw him as a threat to be eliminated; the Martial Path Sect saw him as an asset to be cultivated. Choosing between them was not difficult.

"It seems the Martial Path Sect has decided to make an enemy of the Xuantian Temple and the Wind Cloud Pavilion!" Hou Sailei, having broken away from Lan Xue, stepped to Bai Yifei’s side, his gaze cold.

"Heh, don't try to pressure me with those names. If you had the strength to wipe us out, you would have done it centuries ago! I’ll say it plainly: if you want to touch brother Yang Yan, you’ll have to go through me first!" Zhan Tian took a step forward, his massive frame shielding Yang Yan as a terrifying storm of spiritual power erupted from him.

Yang Yan was shocked; he had underestimated the big man’s strength. With this aura and his effortless destruction of Bai Yifei’s technique, he was clearly a cut above the other two.

Seeing Zhan Tian’s stance, Yang Yan directed his cold gaze toward Hou Sailei and Bai Yifei. With a piercing dragon’s roar, Lan Xue moved to Yang Yan’s side, radiating a terrifying pressure.

Facing the combined might of the three, even the battle-hardened Bai Yifei and Hou Sailei faltered. They knew they couldn't win against the three of them combined.

"Zhan Tian, fine. This isn't over. I will report this to my sect!"

After a moment of internal struggle, Bai Yifei bit his lip and vanished into the distance. Hou Sailei followed suit with a cold snort.

As they retreated, Zhan Tian let out a breath of relief. Yang Yan didn't pursue. While they could fight, forcing the two peak Spirit-Communication Realm experts to fight to the death was risky and unnecessary. Letting them go was not a bad thing; while the relationship with the two sects was strained, it hadn't reached the point of total war. If he were to kill their members, there would be no going back. Yang Yan was not alone; he had the Zhang family and his friends to consider. He wasn't ready to burn all bridges yet.

"Brother Zhan Tian, I will remember this kindness. I will repay you," Yang Yan said sincerely, clasping his hands.

He could not ignore the olive branch extended by the Martial Path Sect. In this world, it was easy to add flowers to a brocade, but offering help in one’s hour of need was rare indeed.