Chapter 611

Chapter 611: Zhu Xian’s Emissary

When Fang Lie encountered Mo Qianxun, he found his esteemed elder leisurely sipping tea beside a tranquil pond. A gentle Qing Feng breeze carried birdsong and floral scents, fish darted beneath lotus flowers adorned with dragonflies—a picture of serene idleness.

Yet the moment Mo Qianxun spotted Fang Lie, the peace shattered. Mo Qianxun sprang up like an enraged lion, seizing Fang Lie’s collar as he roared, "You reckless whelp! After all my goodwill, you scheme against me? Dragging my reputation into provoking Zhu Xian—could you betray me any harder?"

Mo Qianxun’s fury was justified. Zhu Xian haunted his nightmares—an entity he’d never dare confront. Yet Fang Lie had stirred this hornet’s nest over petty grievances, destroying an Outpost, exposing secrets, and even capturing a Zhu Xian Semi-Immortal alive.

Zhu Xian’s hatred now burned against both Fang Lie and Mo Qianxun, dragging Mo Sect into peril. During Fang Lie’s ten-day flight with the captured Old Skull, dozens of Mo Sect disciples had been assassinated—including a Fire Tribulation Immortal Elder.

Mo Qianxun had issued emergency summons, recalling all Higher-ups and elite disciples. Simultaneously, internal criticism mounted—none wished to suffer a top-tier Assassin Organization’s wrath for others’ recklessness.

Though Mo Qianxun feigned calm here, his mind churned like "ants on a hot pan." As the world’s premier supplier of mechanical puppets and warships, Mo Sect’s operations required constant external presence. If Zhu Xian kept ambushing their envoys, their trade would collapse.

Fang Lie knew his fault—he’d acted alone, withholding his Zhu Xian troubles to secure the Wisdom Token. By exploiting Mo Qianxun’s trust, he’d plunged the man into chaos.

"Ahem!" Fang Lie coughed awkwardly. "First, I never used your name! Second, since when does Zhu Xian scare you?"

"You—" Mo Qianxun choked back his rage—no Semi-Immortal would admit fear. Releasing Fang Lie, he spat, "I fear nothing. But Mo Sect isn’t invincible. Ten days ago, we lost a Fire Tribulation Immortal Elder and seven Wind Tribulation Immortals. How many more must die?"

"No more!" Fang Lie scoffed. "The Old Skull I captured—a Zhu Xian Semi-Immortal—will spill their Secret Realm’s location through Soul Search. Once revealed, every force will hunt them!"

"Naive!" Mo Qianxun retorted, resuming his seat with a tea sip. "Soul-searching a Semi-Immortal’s guarded memories is near impossible. Fail, and you’ve enraged Zhu Xian for nothing."

"Bird Bro’s skills and Mo City’s ancient interrogation chamber will suffice," Fang Lie countered.

"Even with their base’s coordinates," Mo Qianxun sneered, "you think they’ll wait to be crushed? Assassins vanish overnight. They’ll rebuild elsewhere, preserving their inheritance. And don’t forget Shi Shen—Zhu Xian’s Left Dao ally. Should Zhu Xian fall, Shi Shen will shield them. With their aid, Zhu Xian will resurge, and Mo Sect will bleed. Did you consider this?"

"…No," Fang Lie admitted, scratching his head.

"Your plan then?" Mo Qianxun pressed. "Drag Mo Sect into war? Let disciples die for your vendetta?"

"And your alternative?" Fang Lie shot back. "They manipulated your grandson, stole our blueprints! Will you cower and let them trample us?"

"Never!" Mo Qianxun growled. "They must answer. But if they concede, you will too."

Fang Lie hesitated. Though eager for battle, he couldn’t jeopardize Mo Sect. Relenting, he muttered, "Fine. Since they ambushed me and stole my Spoils of War, they’ll compensate. If they yield, I’ll stand down."

"Wisdom at last!" Mo Qianxun smiled. "You’ve shed your bullheadedness."

"Wrong!" Fang Lie glared. "I relent only for Mo Sect’s sake. But mark this—when I’m strong enough, I’ll annihilate Zhu Xian and Shi Shen, roots and all!"

"Dream on," Mo Qianxun chuckled, extending a hand. "Wisdom Token. Now."

Fang Lie surrendered it. Mo Qianxun closed his eyes, manipulating the token before announcing, "I’ve halted the Soul Search. Our captive remains unharmed until Zhu Xian’s envoys negotiate."

"Negotiate?" Fang Lie snorted. "Since when do rats seek daylight?"

"Nations don’t slay envoys," Mo Qianxun said. "We’re a Righteous Sect. Besides, their emissary’s likely expendable."

"Will they truly bend?" Fang Lie frowned. "Assassin Organizations never apologize—it destroys their prestige."

"Normally, no," Mo Qianxun conceded. "But you hold their Semi-Immortal and their base’s location—a lair built over millennia. They can’t abandon it lightly."

A sword beam suddenly streaked in. Mo Qianxun caught it, scanning with divine sense before grinning. "Speak of devils—their emissary arrives."

"So soon?" Fang Lie blinked. "Three hours since my ambush, and they’re here?"

"Never underestimate Zhu Xian’s intelligence network," Mo Qianxun warned as two figures approached—Mo Wanfang leading a Black-clad Masked Man radiating Fire Tribulation Immortal cultivation.

"Father," Mo Wanfang announced, "Zhu Xian’s emissary."

"How do we know this isn’t some impostor?" Fang Lie interjected rudely.

Mo Qianxun smirked, silently approving. As Mo Sect Leader, he’d never dignify a masked stranger with direct dialogue—this farce needed interruption.