Volume One: The King's Command Chapter Fifty-One: First Taste of the Power of Daoist Arts

The young chess prodigy Mo Ran, with his carefully honed chessboard, controlled every breath of air within twenty zhang around him. Using eighteen black and white chess pieces forged from refined iron, he could arrange them into a battle formation: advancing to slay enemies or retreating to shield himself. It was a rare and precious treasure.

Trapping the twelve disciples of the Celestial King Sect was not even his full strength. Ordinary martial artists stood no chance against him; at the early stages, Daoist arts held an overwhelming advantage.

The amount of true energy that could be projected outward was far less than the power of magic. Among these twelve disciples, none could unleash true energy; all were at the fifth or sixth level of the Earth Soul Realm.

He had been entrusted with the task of ambushing the Celestial King Sect’s disciples, and for every head he claimed, a generous reward awaited him. Usually steady and restrained, even he could not resist the temptation and embarked on a killing spree.

Calculating that once he reached thirty kills, he could exchange them for a magical artifact he’d coveted for ages, Mo Ran resolved to finish off the twelve disciples. Yet, each time one managed to escape, returning with troublesome reinforcements.

To immobilize nine chess pieces without directly controlling them meant the opponent’s cultivation was higher than his own—a realization that filled Mo Ran with a sense of impending crisis.

In battles between Daoists, the first priority was to discern the opponent’s abilities. Cultivators devote their lives to a single path, and the arts they wield reflect this. Mo Ran’s technique, the art of object control, was among the most common.

"Who are you? The Celestial King Sect has never had a Daoist cultivator!" Mo Ran fixed his gaze on Liu Xiaoyi. It was this youth, wearing a white robe embroidered with the Eight Trigrams, who had just immobilized his chess pieces. Forming a strange hand seal without even a noticeable fluctuation of magical force, Liu Xiaoyi had made it impossible for him to retrieve his pieces.

Had Mo Ran known that Liu Xiaoyi was a novice, using magic for the very first time, and that facing Mo Ran was his maiden battle, he might have smashed his chessboard in despair and become a monk on the spot.

"Just because there wasn’t one before doesn’t mean there isn’t now. Crane, come forth!" Liu Xiaoyi drew his sword, and a fierce wind howled as a white crane merged with the sword’s energy. He surged forward, so swiftly that Mo Ran forgot about his trapped disciples and recalled the other nine chess pieces to defend himself.

This newly developed technique fused swordplay and Daoist arts, and even Liu Xiaoyi himself was unsure of its full power. As the blade fell, it struck the surface of the chess piece formation, shattering it instantly. Mo Ran’s expression froze, blood spewing from his lips as he was flung backward by the wind.

At the moment of the sword strike, the white crane, carrying the sword’s energy, detached from the blade, utterly demolishing the chessboard’s defenses and gravely wounding Mo Ran with a single blow!

Before Liu Xiaoyi could savor his triumph, a wave of dizziness overtook him—his current cultivation was not enough to fully control such power.

But Mo Ran’s fate was far worse. His defenses inexplicably shattered, and before he could react, someone seized him by the collar, bound his limbs with rope, and tossed him to the ground.

Senior Brother Wang, who had come along, was so astonished his jaw nearly fell off. "Junior Brother Guo, where did you find such a formidable expert? Judging by his age, he seems even younger than us, yet that sword would be enough to sweep through half the Celestial King Sect…"

Guo Shuda feigned composure but replied with a guilty heart, "He’s a Daoist friend of mine. With him here, everyone can rest assured!"

Everyone harbored their own thoughts. None present could have unleashed such an attack. Liu Xiaoyi walked over and picked up the chessboard.

Deprived of magical infusion, the chessboard was only palm-sized, and the scattered pieces obediently flew back to it.

"Daoist Liu, you can try erasing his magical imprint and infusing your own. This chessboard is a fine treasure," Li Jue said, his tone tinged with envy. Killing for treasures was common, but stumbling upon a handy magical artifact was rare indeed.

As a beginner with no clear direction, Liu Xiaoyi immediately wrapped the chessboard in his own magical power. Sensing the solidified force within, he exerted all his strength to dispel it.

Watching his beloved treasure trembling, Mo Ran’s heart was heavy. He was bound so tightly he could not move, forced to watch helplessly as his treasure was seized. He still consoled himself that the magical imprint he had nurtured for over a decade could not be erased so quickly. Suddenly, his core trembled, and his connection to the chessboard was severed.

So quick! In less than five breaths, Liu Xiaoyi felt a sudden clarity. With a thought, the eighteen black and white chess pieces flew from the board and revolved around him.

"Congratulations, Daoist Liu! With this treasure chessboard, even ordinary Daoists will fall easily before you," Li Jue was the first to congratulate him. He made up his mind to find a suitable moment to teach Liu Xiaoyi the Golden Light Incantation, to revive the lost art.

Talent was especially evident among cultivators. Guo Shuda was a well-meaning, ordinary disciple with limited aptitude, reaching only the fourth level despite heavy investment by his sect. He relied mainly on the power of magical artifacts.

The other disciples gathered the bodies of their fallen comrades, found solid ground to bury them, retrieved their identity tokens for verification, and then came to offer their thanks.

"Thank you, Daoist friend, for your assistance. Please do visit the Celestial King Sect, so our elders can properly reward you."

"I was planning to visit the Celestial King Sect anyway. If it’s convenient, let’s travel together," Liu Xiaoyi replied, still exploring the chessboard’s transformation. Though he’d never encountered such an item before, he found its workings immediately clear: the movement patterns of the pieces unfolded vividly before his eyes.

When empowered by magical force, the chess pieces could form three formations—two offensive and one defensive. It required careful study, but time was short, and the disciples still needed to rescue their comrades elsewhere on Grindstone Mountain.

It took three days to ascend and four days to descend the mountain, with five ambush points in total. The Celestial King Sect had lost over thirty disciples in these traps, but every one of them was easily dispatched by Liu Xiaoyi, who reaped a fortune.

Not only did they recover magical artifacts, but also two spirit stones containing pure magical essence—rare minerals that could be directly absorbed to replenish one’s power, each worth a small fortune. The sight made Li Jue and the others drool with envy.

"Daoist Liu, what business do you have with the Celestial King Sect? Are you seeking someone or something? If we can help, please let us know."

"All of you, step aside! I, Wang Ye, met Daoist Liu first. Isn’t that so?" Senior Brother Wang grinned slyly, his demeanor utterly shameless.

The Celestial King Sect had an unwritten rule: anyone who brought useful people or items to the sect would be handsomely rewarded. Wang Ye figured that bringing along such a powerful ally would make completing trivial missions a breeze and earn him endless contribution points.

He failed to remember that his junior brother stood right beside him. Guo Shuda, face darkening, patted Wang Ye on the back. "Senior Brother Wang? Isn’t this my friend? What are you plotting?"

"For all the trouble you’ve caused over the years, haven’t I always taken the blame for you? I deserve a little interest, don’t I?" Wang Ye whispered, afraid Liu Xiaoyi might overhear.