Chapter 62: The Proper Use of the Divine Engine, Part One

Let Jia Zhiyuan return to report his safety.

Luo Feng set off alone toward the site of the explosion.

Killing, burning, looting corpses, sending souls on their way, cremating, and scattering ashes—one-stop service, all in the name of courtesy.

As he drew closer, he saw corpses strewn everywhere. The surroundings had become a sea of fire, and the center was leveled flat.

A sweep of his divine sense located the position of Meichuan Daiko.

His legs were gone, his body half destroyed, but the pouch at his waist—the Hundred Treasures Bag—remained unharmed.

Within it lay the crucial item for summoning the Eight-Headed Serpent.

Luo Feng walked over and reached out to take it, when suddenly there was a sharp crack.

Meichuan Daiko’s left hand slammed down, and in a burst of dying energy, he sat upright. His right arm turned golden and shot straight through Luo Feng’s chest.

It was clear he had employed a secret technique or a one-use treasure.

Luo Feng smiled faintly. “I truly underestimated you.”

“Lacking in cunning and wisdom, but this endurance—truly fitting for an Islander.”

Meichuan Daiko collapsed at last, the final blow spent, his strength exhausted.

Staring at the wound—metal fused with stone and wood—his eyes filled with disbelief. “You… you’re… a puppet… a doll!!”

Luo Feng only smiled, silent. He was indeed a puppet—a false Luo Feng, secretly controlled by the real Luo Feng.

Otherwise, how to explain that since entering the city, he’d never once used his physical strength?

Or how a mere downpour could soak his body, when, as a perfected human immortal, not a hair should be dampened by rain?

This was all part of the eleventh contingency plan, in case of unforeseen events.

Meichuan Daiko lay on the ground, eyes wide, half dead, teetering on the edge of death.

Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed his face. He coughed up a mouthful of blood and rasped, “Those three—they’re your puppets too, aren’t they?!”

If the lantern-bearer, the blue-eyed, and the red-haired Islanders were all Luo Feng’s puppets, then everything made sense.

All the scattered beads fell neatly into place.

Luo Feng remained silent, smiling.

In truth, the three Islanders were born and bred, not his puppets—he’d never had the time.

“What trick… what…” Meichuan Daiko died with his eyes open, taking his confusion and resentment with him.

From start to finish, Luo Feng gave not a single explanation.

He feared the enemy might possess means to look back in time and witness this scene.

To explain, to argue, only risked leaking information—a villain’s mistake.

Luo Feng would not make it.

Surveying the scorched battlefield, no Islander remained alive.

He picked up a sword, finished off each wounded foe, then piled the bodies together and set them ablaze.

A roaring fire leaped up.

The puppet Luo Feng, after a moment’s thought, sat cross-legged across from the flames and began chanting the Heavenly Marshal’s Incantation to Banish Ghosts and Evil Spirits.

If by chance the enemy had means of summoning souls, they might call up Meichuan Daiko’s spirit for questioning.

That could easily result in secrets being revealed.

The fire blazed for a long while, until only a heap of ashes remained.

Luo Feng took out a large jar he had prepared and gathered the ashes inside.

Destroying ghosts and souls was not his area of expertise.

Better to leave such matters to the abbot of the Buddhist or Daoist orders—after all, it was their professional craft.

“Alright, I’ll leave this to you. I’m off for repairs.”

The puppet Luo Feng set the jar on the ground and called out toward the forest.

At that moment, another Luo Feng emerged, openly complaining, “It’s still the same person controlling us both.”

“Isn’t this kind of split-personality conversation a bit much?”

The puppet Luo Feng considered and replied, “This kind of split-personality conversation is just right.”

I, Luo Feng, am a repeating machine, devoid of emotion.

The second Luo Feng picked up the jar and set off for Ping’an County.

The first puppet Luo Feng headed toward his own cave, deep in the Celestial Escape Valley.

...

In a clearing in the valley, the puppet Luo Feng lay sprawled on the ground.

The real Luo Feng stood nearby, with Ma Benza also present.

Luo Feng tapped the puppet’s metallic body and shook his head. “Still needs improvement.”

“This puppet can only handle half my power, and its fine control is lacking.”

“Earlier, I used my true energy to control the puppet, and the puppet, separated by a mile, was used to control the Islanders.”

“The whole process was awkward; it took me many tries to make the Islanders speak and smile naturally.”

“If Meichuan Daiko hadn’t been busy fleeing for his life, he would have noticed immediately.”

Inside, Ma Benza was on the verge of collapse. “Uncle Master, can’t you just be a normal person?”

Using a puppet to control another puppet—this was well beyond the realm of artifact crafting.

Yet outwardly, Ma Benza nodded gravely. “You’re right, Uncle Master. It definitely needs refinement.”

“See, this third component here…”

The two of them discussed matters in earnest for most of the day.

Suddenly, Luo Feng sighed. “Benza, do you know which of the Seven Great Techniques I value most?”

Ma Benza hesitated, then shook his head honestly.

Luo Feng smiled. “The so-called Seven Miraculous Techniques are, in essence, the pursuit of an art to its absolute limit. When a craft nears the Dao, it becomes a miraculous technique.”

“The Celestial Talisman Arts—I have no talent for talismans and only know a few basic runes.”

“Celestial Talisman Arts?” Ma Benza looked confused. What did the Celestial Talisman Arts have to do with their techniques?

Luo Feng chuckled. “There’s an eighth technique beyond the Seven—hasn’t everyone heard that?”

Ma Benza nodded earnestly. He hadn’t read much or traveled far, so he didn’t know this ‘common’ knowledge.

Luo Feng continued, “The Miraculous Gate of the Wind Marquis concerns the will of heaven, profoundly mysterious. I have yet to grasp it.”

“The remaining great techniques all pertain to the body, soul, and true energy.”

“They overlap with my own cultivation path, so I’ve not learned them in full, but have taken their essence and merged it into my three grand arts.”

“So, whether I learn an extra technique or one less, it hardly matters.”

“What I truly value most is the Divine Machine Tempering.”

“If we speak of the supreme technique,” Luo Feng sighed in admiration, “puppet dolls are the ultimate tool for survival.”

“Truly, they are in tune with the Way of Survival.”

Ma Benza blushed. “Uncle Master, you flatter me.”

Luo Feng smiled, left it at that, and then changed the subject. “Benza, do you wish to return to Shangqing?”

Ma Benza was taken aback, then said, “I do, but Uncle Master, would you let me go back?”

Luo Feng smiled. “I owe Zhou Sheng a favor, which is why I let him return to Wudang.”

“You are my nephew, and you taught me the Divine Machine Tempering Technique. In a few days, I’ll send you back.”

Ma Benza was silent for a long time, then knelt and bowed. “Uncle Master, I am eternally grateful for your great kindness!”

Returning to Shangqing with Luo Feng’s endorsement was a different matter entirely—he would never have to fear calamity again.

Luo Feng nodded, then said, “Go back and tell your brothers.”

“I have gained insight into several miraculous techniques. If any of them rescue Yuan Yuan, they may leave freely.”

Ma Benza nodded, then hesitated. “What about Uncle Master Zheng Zha?”

“Zheng Zha?” Luo Feng frowned as he mulled over the name.

Luo Yuan’s condition was improving, showing signs of revival.

But Zheng Zha had sunk into a state neither dead nor alive.

Even stranger, his body was growing ever stronger, brimming with vitality—his flesh would last at least a thousand years.

Now, even Luo Feng at full strength could not shake Zheng Zha’s body.

“They need not be concerned with Zheng Zha,” Luo Feng said thoughtfully. “I will handle it myself.”

He pondered the various great techniques—distilling their essence, discarding the dross.

Essence and energy, opening another grade—now at eleven grades.

The Divine Path was nearing ninth grade.

The realm of Innate Grandmaster was close at hand!

Once he attained the Innate realm, Luo Feng decided, he would probe Zheng Zha’s soul once more.

He felt it in his heart—stepping into Innate would change everything.

[Thanks to ‘Killer on the Road’ for the 2,000 reward—one extra chapter added.]

(End of this chapter)