Chapter 62: Stamping Feet

A colossal airship, stretching over a hundred meters long, silently glided across the sky.

Ahead, several smaller airships appeared. These vessels were opulent and elegant in design, clearly non-combat ships, traversing the sky with utter disregard for rules. Through their vast glass walls, one could glimpse several beautiful young women dancing gracefully within. Clearly, these were the playthings of privileged young men out for amusement.

The two sides were set to cross paths not far ahead.

Red lights flashed incessantly from the smaller ships, signaling for the massive warship to yield. The beams shone directly onto the hull of the larger vessel.

But the giant warship paid no heed.

Suddenly, an emblem materialized upon the smaller ships. It was the crest of their family.

Without hesitation, the smaller ships accelerated, heading straight for the massive warship as if intent on ramming it, certain the behemoth would give way.

Arrogance! Overbearing insolence!

Yet the great ship pressed onward, unhurried and unwavering, as though oblivious. At the very instant before collision, the smaller ships veered away in a desperate maneuver, narrowly scraping past disaster.

From the cockpit of the massive warship, one could glimpse chaos within the smaller vessels.

Not content, a formidable figure from the smaller ship burst into the sky, hurtling toward the warship. As he drew near, he caught sight of the insignia emblazoned on the hull. His face transformed in terror, and with all haste, he spun back toward his own ship.

It was a snake—outwardly unremarkable, save for its eyes.

Calm—so calm it sent chills through the soul.

No matter the angle, the snake seemed to be staring straight at you, as if, at any moment, it would strike and claim your life.

This was none other than the emblem of the Serpent King, Liu Hen.

The smaller ships fled in utter disgrace.

Such arrogance was only possible when never having encountered a true power.

Now, the sovereign of venom sat within his warship, expressionless as he perused a report before him.

Beside him, a young man in his twenties spoke, “Was this the work of our junior? He killed only the guards—does that mean he doesn’t want to take things too far?”

Guards, after all, were little more than household servants. Some were even less than the retainers of the great families.

Fang Qingyun had killed only the guards, so the Institute of Scientific Research dispatched advanced warriors to hunt him down.

Had Fang Qingyun slain one of the Institute’s elite warriors or researchers, the Institute’s high command would have pursued him personally.

“No,” the Serpent King replied coldly. “The boy still clings to his last shred of restraint.”

The young man was puzzled. He scrutinized the report for some time but found nothing unusual.

Just a few guards. They were clean, with ordinary talents and no significant backing.

But the Serpent King’s authority was absolute. Even though curiosity gnawed at him, the young man dared not press further.

“Master, shouldn’t we do something?” he asked quietly. “The Institute has already sent experts to hunt our junior. I’m afraid—”

“Afraid of what?” The Serpent King seemed utterly indifferent. “If he’s caught and killed, I’ll avenge him. When the time comes, I’ll simply raze the entire Institute in Huadu to the ground.”

The young man’s lips twitched.

But what about your junior? He’d be dead! Even if you wiped Huadu off the map, he wouldn’t know!

“Master!” The young man’s expression grew grave. “Junior has just become a warrior, yet he already rivals high-level fighters. He’s not only skilled in marksmanship, but can also craft psychic bullets, which means his mastery over psychic energy is at an impressive level. In the future, he’s certain to become a great general.”

If the Serpent King chose to cultivate him, just a slight tilt of resources would see Fang Qingyun reach general rank.

To possess the strength of a high-level warrior at the very start of his path—once he reached the general ranks, he would be among the strongest.

A sniper, a beast summoner, a master of psychic energy…

Once such a man entered the battlefield, countless monsters would fall by his hand.

In other words, he would indirectly save a multitude of human warriors.

The Serpent King was ruthless, yes, but his loyalty to humanity was unwavering.

The young man could not believe his master failed to see all this.

Yet the Serpent King’s expression did not change. He said calmly, “If he wants to survive, he must fight for it himself. In truth, I’ve already given him support. It’s up to him to use it.”

Support?

This time, the young man understood, and breathed a sigh of relief.

The airship pressed onward, steady and unhurried.

…

At that moment, Old Li had also received the news. He and Zhao Junhong, who sat beside him, both turned pale.

Damn it.

There was no need to guess—the culprit was undoubtedly Fang Qingyun.

They knew him far too well. That fellow, always grinning and a bit of a rogue, was the most vengeful of all.

If you crossed him and he could retaliate immediately, he would. If not, he’d jot it down in his little notebook and repay you in the future.

In short—he would never let it go.

This time, the people from the Institute had clearly enraged him, prompting him to retaliate without a care for consequences.

No—calling it revenge was flattering him. It was more like courting death!

He’d only been cultivating for a few days. How could he possibly be a match for the Institute?

Even a general-level warrior would be swatted like a fly if the Institute took things seriously.

No—a single finger would suffice!

“What do we do?” Old Li was nearly panicking. “Rumor has it, some people from the Institute are already dead.”

Zhao Junhong, on the verge of tears, replied, “You’re the teacher—if you don’t know what to do, how should I? I’m just a kid!”

“Damn it!” Old Li wanted to smack Zhao Junhong.

Now you claim to be a child?

But when chasing girls, you never call yourself a kid.

That little rascal has more women than I do.

Bang!

The door was kicked open violently.

Old Li was about to lose his temper, but when he saw who it was, all his bluster vanished.

“Principal Sun, what brings you here?”

“What do you think?” Principal Sun’s voice was harsh and cold. “Where is Fang Qingyun?”

“Out flirting!” Old Li and Zhao Junhong answered in rare unison.

After all, Fang Qingyun was a notorious flirt—anyone could tell you that.

Principal Sun’s veins bulged with anger as he ground his teeth. “Are you sure? If you’re certain, I’ll leave right now.”

Old Li and Zhao Junhong exchanged glances and hesitated. “Well, not entirely sure…”

“Damn! So it really is him?”

Principal Sun snatched up a chair and hurled it at Old Li.

Bang!

Old Li’s psychic energy shield shattered the chair.

“No point getting mad at me. I had no idea that rascal would lose his mind like this. Now what do we do?” Old Li looked helpless.

“Hmph!” Principal Sun snorted and tossed a report onto the table. “The city lord was just about to take a bite out of the Institute, and now this news arrives. If we’re not chewed up ourselves, we should count ourselves lucky.”

Old Li and Zhao Junhong didn’t seem concerned.

Whoever got that piece of flesh, it would never reach Fang Qingyun anyway.

“Thank goodness it was only a few guards who died,” Principal Sun remarked, noting their expressions and deducing their thoughts, but said nothing more.

In truth, he felt the same.

Who cared who bit whom? It had nothing to do with them.

They weren’t the ones feasting, after all.

As principal of First High, especially after the school’s recent outstanding performance, Principal Sun’s standing in Huadu had soared. Even the director of the city’s education department greeted him with a broad smile these days.

With his newfound status, he was privy to far more than Old Li.

“Take a look and tell me, where do you think Fang Qingyun is now?”

Principal Sun produced a map, covered in various annotations.

“He killed three guards here, then a few more at the Institute’s main gate, and then escaped into the Poisonous Marsh!”

A trace of worry creased Principal Sun’s brow.

The Poisonous Marsh was lethally toxic—even general-level warriors could not linger there for long.

If Fang Qingyun truly ventured deep inside, he could be in grave danger.