One person: Starting with the Snow Drinking Blade

Ruan Feng walked in the middle of the group, his steps seemingly casual, but each step was extremely steady, his figure swaying unhurriedly along the forest path. He unscrewed a bottle of Erguotou (a type of Chinese liquor) and took another sip, then turned his head to chat with Zhang Chulan, who was standing beside him.

"Your grandfather, Zhang Huaiyi, was the smartest of the Thirty-Six Thieves back in the day." Ruan Feng's gaze was somewhat unfocused, as if he were looking at an old shadow on another road. "That man had a whole chessboard in his head; he could calculate the variables ten moves ahead with every move he made. Several times we were almost surrounded by the major sects, but he sensed things were going wrong in advance and led everyone to relocate overnight. Without him, the Thirty-Six Thieves would have scattered long ago."

"So what kind of person was my grandfather?" Zhang Chulan's voice was low, tinged with a cautious nervousness. He had never met Zhang Huaiyi since he was a child; all his impressions came from snippets of conversation his father occasionally mentioned and the cold, hard comments in the company files. He longed to hear from Ruan Feng about a living, breathing person.

Ruan Feng remained silent for a few steps before slowly saying, "He's a good person."

"A good person?" Zhang Chulan was stunned. The answer was so simple that he was speechless for a moment.

"Yes, a good man." Ruan Feng nodded, the smell of alcohol dissipating in the evening breeze with his words. "He's cunning, but he never uses his cunning to harm anyone. Everything he does is to protect those around him. Back when the Thirty-Six Thieves disbanded, all the major sects were eyeing them covetously, each wanting to devour the Eight Extraordinary Techniques. It was your grandfather who overruled everyone's objections and changed who was supposed to master the Eight Extraordinary Techniques! He made the brothers who truly mastered the Eight Extraordinary Techniques hide away."

"And then what happened?" Zhang Chulan clenched his fist. "What happened next? Why did all the major sects hunt him down?"

Ruan Feng paused slightly, his shoes leaving a deep groove in the mud before returning to normal. His silence lasted much longer than before, so long that Zhang Chulan thought he wasn't going to answer.

"Because of the Qi Body Source Flow, because the true master of the Eight Extraordinary Techniques has been discovered, and because your grandfather also discovered a secret."

"What secret?"

"The secret of the sacred tree."

"The Divine Tree?" Zhang Chulan frowned deeply. "What is that?"

Ruan Feng didn't answer immediately, but instead asked, "Do you know why Nathan Island can be a lawless place for the supernatural? Why do so many wanted, desperate people flock here?"

Zhang Chulan shook his head.

"Because there is a divine tree on Nathan Island." Ruan Feng's voice lowered, his lips barely moving, only the air squeezed out from between his teeth. "That tree has incredible power—it can grant ordinary people superpowers, and it can also cause awakened superhumans to have their power surge. The reason why King Nathan was able to rule this island is because he is the guardian of the divine tree and can borrow authority from it."

"That's incredible?" Zhang Chulan's pupils contracted slightly. "If someone were to possess that tree, wouldn't they be able to mass-produce superhumans?"

"That's how it is in theory," Ruan Feng nodded, "but the power of the Divine Tree isn't given away for free. It comes at a price."

"The price?" Zhang Chulan's heart skipped a beat.

"Sacrifice." When Ruan Feng uttered these two words, there was not a trace of alcohol left in his voice; it was dry and cold like a pebble in winter. "Every so often, King Nasen must sacrifice a different person to the sacred tree. The person sacrificed becomes nourishment for the sacred tree, their soul completely devoured, leaving not a trace behind."

Zhang Chulan froze in place, a chill running down his spine: "This...isn't this a cult?"

"A cult?" Ruan Feng gave a bitter laugh, the curve of his lips filled with a sour taste. "Perhaps. But for the inhabitants of Nathan Island, the Divine Tree is their heaven. Without the power of the Divine Tree to protect it, this island would have been trampled to pieces by various forces long ago. They rely on the Divine Tree to preserve this pure land, so they must also bear the demands of the Divine Tree."

"And what about King Nathan? Did he just stand by and watch his people be sent to the altar?"

"King Nathan is also helpless." Ruan Feng sighed, his gaze fixed on the distant flames. "He is both a guardian and a prisoner. He cannot defy the will of the divine tree, otherwise, the tree will turn against him, and the entire island will perish. He sits on this throne with an active volcano right under his buttocks."

"Then...is there no way to break this cycle?"

"Yes." Ruan Feng turned to look at Zhang Chulan, his eyes as deep as a dry well. "He destroyed the divine tree."

"Destroyed the Divine Tree?" Zhang Chulan's throat tightened. "Then Nathan Island would be..."

"It will become an ordinary island," Ruan Feng completed the sentence for him. "There will be no more protection from supernatural powers, no more lawless places. But there will be no more sacrifices."

He paused, took a large gulp of wine, and his Adam's apple bobbed. "Do you know why Wugensheng came to Nathan Island?"

Zhang Chulan shook his head, but his heart was already racing.

"Because he wanted to destroy the sacred tree."

These words struck Zhang Chulan like a red-hot iron hammer into his chest. His mind went blank, and all the fragmented clues surged wildly in his mind—the disappearance of Wugensheng, the secret of Nasen Island, the discovery of his grandfather Zhang Huaiyi—they were like threads suddenly being grasped in the same hand.

"Unfortunately, he failed." Ruan Feng's voice regained some of its drunkenness, but the heaviness beneath was still clearly discernible. "He somehow found out the secrets of the Divine Tree and led his men to the island to destroy it. But he underestimated the power of the Divine Tree, and he also underestimated King Nathan's determination. In the end, he was defeated, and he disappeared, his fate unknown."

"Then... is Wugensheng still alive?"

"I don't know." Ruan Feng shook his head. "Some say he's dead, some say he's still alive, just trapped in some corner of this island. No one can give a definite answer."

Zhang Chulan fell silent. His shoes left deep and shallow dents in the soil beneath his feet. He had thought that finding Ruan Feng would solve one mystery, but instead, solving one led to three more—the Divine Tree, the Sacrifice, King Nasen, Qu Tong, the Golden Branch Breaker… These names were tangled in his mind, like a knotted thread that he couldn't untangle.

"Don't overthink it." Ruan Feng patted his shoulder again, his palm warm and reassuring through the fabric. "Some things, if you overthink them, you'll just get stuck in a rut. Just let things take their course. When it's your time to know, you'll know."

Zhang Chulan took a deep breath, suppressing his surging emotions, and nodded: "Thank you for your guidance, senior."

"Don't mention it." Ruan Feng grinned. "I'm only saying this to you because I find you pleasing to the eye. If it were anyone else, I'd be too busy drinking my own wine."

Suddenly, a series of violent explosions rang out ahead, rumbling like thunder across the treetops. Everyone looked up at the same time and saw flames shooting into the sky from the direction of the palace, with thick smoke billowing up into the twilight sky like a giant black python twisting and turning. They could also vaguely hear the dense gunfire and intermittent shouts of battle.

"Behemoth has already broken in." Daoist Wang Ye's expression tightened.

"Go." Nie Lingfeng pushed off with his feet and his figure shot out first.

The group followed closely behind, leaving a long trail of speed along the forest path, their footsteps crushing dry branches and fallen leaves, startling birds into flight.

When they rushed out of the forest and arrived at the outskirts of the palace, the scene before them made everyone stop in their tracks, and even Nguyen Phuong put down his wine bottle.

The heavy bronze gate of the palace had been blown inwards, its hinges broken, and half a door hung askew on the frame, revealing the chaotic square inside. Dozens of corpses lay scattered across the square, some in Behemoth standard equipment, others in the traditional clothing of the native Nathan Island Inhumans. The stone pavement was covered with craters and burn marks, blood pooling in the craters into dark red puddles. The air was thick with the acrid smell of gunpowder and blood, making one's throat tighten.

On the steps in front of the main hall, a tall, blond figure was fighting alone.

He was clad in golden armor, its surface almost entirely obscured by sword marks and bullet holes. Cracks ran from his shoulder armor to his breastplate and then down to his waist, large patches of the golden paint peeling away to reveal the greyish-white alloy base beneath. In his hand he gripped a two-handed greatsword, its blade as broad as a door, its edge chipped in seven or eight places, yet it still whistled through the air as he swung it. Each strike generated a sharp shockwave, forcing three to five Behemoth soldiers in front of him back several steps simultaneously.

But his body was covered in wounds. A long gash was torn in his left arm armor, and blood dripped from his elbow onto the stone steps, leaving dark dots. The armor on his right knee was shattered, and a deep, bone-revealing knife wound stretched across it, leaving a complete bloody footprint with every step. His breathing was heavy and labored, his chest heaving violently, and sweat mixed with blood streamed into his eyes. He shook his head violently to barely open them.

"That's... Alfonso?" Baron's pupils contracted, his voice trembling with a rare intensity. "The leader of the Nine Guards of Nathan, the strongest warrior on Nathan Island."

"The Nine Guards?" Lu Linglong gripped the hilt of her sword. "What's their background?"

"King Nathan's personal guards number nine, each one a top-tier expert, one in a million. Alfonso is their leader," Baron said in a low voice. "He's held out this long by himself... his stamina and willpower are beyond human capabilities."

"Can he hold off so many people by himself?" Zhang Chulan asked.

Baron paused for a moment, then slowly shook his head: "We can't hold them off. We won't last much longer."

As if in response to his words, Alfonso swept his sword across, forcing back three soldiers in front of him. Suddenly, his right knee buckled, and he lurched forward, kneeling heavily on one knee on the stone steps. He used his greatsword to support his body, the tip of which was deeply embedded in the cracks in the stone. His hands gripped the hilt tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force. His heavy breathing was particularly clear amidst the intervals between gunshots.

"Afonso!"