What is called a digression?
Bai Wu felt that his father's sudden arrival was somewhat tearfully ironic.
Chen Xia looked up at the black-robed figure in the sky without speaking, feeling somewhat amused. Do all these White Flame Sparrows like descending from the heavens?
"Father, it's not like that, there's no..." Bai Wu was still desperately trying to explain.
"My son, say no more. Today I will slay this short-sighted Human and show the Qing Province that the White Flame Sparrow Tribe is not to be trifled with!"
The black-robed figure let out a cold laugh, directly interrupting Bai Wu's words as he looked at Chen Xia with icy eyes.
The Little Cinnabar Hall cultivators heard the commotion and came over one after another. Seeing the black-robed figure in the sky, their expressions were shocked as their thoughts raced.
This was the chief of the White Flame Sparrow Tribe, one of the eight great powers in Qing Province. For him to personally come to the Little Cinnabar Hall...
The Little Cinnabar Hall's sect leader was also the first to arrive at the scene. He looked at the stalemate between the black-robed figure in the sky and the blue-clothed figure at the gate, his expression solemn as his eyes darted between them.
This could be considered Chen Xia's first trial by combat.
Only by exchanging blows with Qing Province's top experts and proving evenly matched could Chen Xia be considered to have truly gained a foothold in Qing Province.
Otherwise, his previous titles of Master Alchemist and Scholar and Warrior were but jokes.
The Little Cinnabar Hall sect leader clenched his fists, palms already sweating. He hoped Chen Xia would be able to withstand this, if not gain victory, then at least fight to a stalemate.
Aside from the sect leader, Autumn Yi who oversaw the Little Cinnabar Hall also quickly arrived at the scene. Perhaps having predicted this already, her expression was unsurprised as she knitted her brows, having notified the Autumn clan to send people over.
This way, even if Chen Xia were to fall, the Little Cinnabar Hall would not suffer too greatly.
The standoff continued as Chen Xia lowered his raised head to look at the kowtowing Bai Wu, evaluating:
"You two really are father and son."
From their dramatic entrances to their pretentious words, they were one and the same.
Bai Wu was dumbfounded, unsure of how to respond, only feeling that he had been set up.
The aloof, handsome face of the black-robed figure in the sky was indifferent. Too lazy to say anything more, he raised a finger, coldly stating, "Receive a move first."
The spiritual energy in the sky instantly converged, becoming a bright flame that ignited on the black-robed figure's fingertip. A tiny wisp of white fire contained terrifying spiritual power.
The Little Cinnabar Hall sect leader's heart lurched as he exclaimed, "Mountain Moving Realm mystic art!"
This move was meant not only to kill Chen Xia, but to directly blow apart half of the Little Cinnabar Hall!
Pitifully, there was not a single Little Cinnabar Hall cultivator who dared to step forward and stop it. They could only retreat far away, already waiting to deal with the aftermath.
They were cultivators of the Little Cinnabar Hall, yet could only stand idly by as spectators while their sect fell to disaster, as if they were outsiders.
As the gathered flame grew more and more terrifying and the black-robed figure stretched out his hand with a cruel smile, he first pulled Bai Wu back, then tapped his fiery finger downwards.
Like a falling flower, the wisp of fire floated down gently, unleashing its restrained spiritual power as it descended.
Apocalyptic flames unfurled across the horizon, as if signalling the end times.
The spectating cultivators watched dumbfounded, no longer knowing how to assess this world-destroying mystic art.
At the base, Chen Xia stood as the swirling winds from the incoming flames blew his hair and fluttered his blue robes.
His expression was extremely tranquil, even finding the time to pick at his ear.
Clearly taking it easy despite the crisis.
When the flames were halfway down and the fiery waves in the sky completely unfurled,
Chen Xia raised his hand, expression aloof. With two fingers he lightly rapped at the empty space behind him, as if a god speaking:
"Stop."
Grayish-white colors instantly spread from behind him, swiftly covering the entire sky and surroundings of the Little Cinnabar Hall.
In an instant, everything was grayish-white.
The cultivators' expressions and actions all froze.
Faraway birds were suspended eerily in midair.
Even the wind stilled.
Chen Xia stepped onto the void, leisurely striding through the sky towards the horizon.
As he neared the flames,
The fiery waves in the sky automatically parted on their own, as if making way. The flames then voluntarily positioned themselves under Chen Xia's feet like stair steps, allowing him to ascend step by step.
As if ascending to godhood.
Long flames trailed behind him like steps, or wings.
Unhurried, he approached the black-robed figure and stretched out a hand, crisply snapping his fingers in midair.
The grayish-white colors receded like the tide.
The cultivators' expressions returned to normal, initially confused but quickly horrified.
Because in the sky, Chen Xia's figure now had billowing fiery tails as he directly faced the White Flame Sparrow Tribe Chief. He laughed lightly and said:
"Hello."
Then the fiery tails instantly reversed course, swiftly gathering in his outstretched hand and becoming a blazing fiery palm.
This hand grabbed the White Flame Sparrow Tribe Chief's head. Flames instantly erupted to engulf him before tossing him down with a casual fling.
On this day,
The already crumbling mountain path of the Little Cinnabar Hall was completely obliterated. In the shattered ruins, the thousand-zhang true form of the White Flame Sparrow Tribe Chief lay, covered in blood, hovering between life and death.
Why throw him onto the mountain path?
Because Chen Xia felt that since they were father and son, their exits should match their entrances.
He was just too kind.
In the sky, the aloof blue-clothed figure returned to the pavilion and calmly sat down.
In the ruins, no one dared to retrieve or even look at the half-dead White Flame Sparrow Tribe Chief.
From this day forth, Bai Wu knelt perpetually outside the pavilion, begging Chen Xia to forgive his ignorant father.
Chen Xia did not respond, sitting in his chair with his cheek resting in a hand.
Bai Wu's apologies did not count. He was waiting for the half-dead White Flame Sparrow Tribe Chief to crawl over himself and apologize in person.
After this battle, all of Qing Province trembled in disbelief towards Chen Xia.
Some cultivators directly deduced that Chen Xia was a mighty one from beyond their lands, able to so easily dominate the early Mountain Moving Realm White Flame Sparrow Tribe Chief. His cultivation must be at the peak of the Mountain Moving Realm.
As for the Sea Inversing Realm...
Qing Province cultivators did not dare imagine further. To them, the Sea Inversing Realm was as lofty and unfathomable as the gods.
Autumn Yi came to find Chen Xia once, gently asking a question:
"Why did you come to Qing Province and the Little Cinnabar Hall?"
"Because I had no choice," Chen Xia replied plainly, a rare hint of regret flickering in his eyes.
Ever since the Azure Sky Sword Sea, he truly had no choice.
Autumn Yi bowed her head slightly without responding, seemingly lost in thought.
"Oh right, why do you always speak from afar? Do you have some disability, or do you just think it's more impressive? Why not just talk normally?"
Chen Xia asked out of pure curiosity, with no ridicule intended.
Autumn Yi was first stunned, then rare embarrassment flushed her cold, beautiful face as she opened and closed her mouth without speaking. After some thought she finally uttered:
"B-b-because... I... I stutter."
"Hahaha."
Chen Xia laughed heartily.
Autumn Yi's blush deepened, but she continued facing Chen Xia straight on. Such was her pride.
"Alright, alright." Chen Xia nodded.
Autumn Yi gave him an exasperated glance, seemingly mimicking him. With nothing more to say for now, her white robe fluttered as she swiftly departed.
Half a month later, changes occurred among Qing Province's eight great powers.
The White Flame Sparrow Tribe fell from power.
The Little Cinnabar Hall swiftly rose to become one of the new eight great powers of Qing Province.
Everyone knew the original Little Cinnabar Hall could never have grasped this position alone.
Everything relied on one person.
The blue-clothed figure sitting at the Little Cinnabar Hall's gates, as if the moon amidst a sea of stars.
Said to be a guard.
In truth, a god of the era.