Chapter 655

Chapter 655: Qianxun’s Surprise

Upon hearing Fang Lie’s words, Mo Wanfang couldn’t help but laugh and scold, "You’re in the Mo Sect! If you can’t find suitable attachments here, your standards must be unreasonably high!"

"Ha, true enough!" Fang Lie replied with an embarrassed chuckle.

Though Fang Lie’s newfound wealth had made him somewhat arrogant, dismissing ordinary treasures, Mo Wanfang still had every right to make such a claim. The Mo Sect’s mastery of Mechanical Arts was undeniably unmatched in the world. Their treasure vault housed the most comprehensive, powerful, and refined mechanical attachments. Even Fang Lie’s pickiness couldn’t deny that.

Realizing his doubt had been disrespectful to the Mo Sect, Fang Lie hurriedly added, "Father-in-law, please help me select the finest observation treasures available."

"Observation treasures abound. Do you want eighth-rank ones?" Mo Wanfang asked. "They’re costly and challenging to install. Eighth-rank treasures can transform, possessing intelligence akin to children. They’re mischievous—you must meet their demands before they’ll obey."

Fang Lie frowned, recalling how troublesome eighth-rank treasures could be. Unless fully subdued, they resisted control. Even when forced into submission through elder intervention, their power dwindled to a fraction. Qi Sea cultivators wielding such treasures remained weak precisely for this reason.

Though Fang Lie could enlist a Thunder Tribulation Immortal’s help, he disliked the idea of weakened treasures. Then he remembered his Netherworld warship’s secret: its Netherworld Ghost Fire could burn powerful treasures to elevate lower-rank ones. Even the Xuan Sect had coveted this heaven-defying feature, trading ninth-rank treasures for it.

An idea struck him—acquire a seventh-rank treasure, easier to master and cheaper, then upgrade it himself. This way, the resulting eighth-rank treasure would retain full power without submission issues.

Smiling, Fang Lie declared, "I’m too poor for eighth-rank treasures. Give me seventh-rank ones with maximum potential. I’ll nurture them to eighth rank myself."

Mo Wanfang rolled his eyes. "You dare play poor? Only my father rivals your wealth in the Mo Sect!"

"Brother," Mao Mao interjected, "why seventh-rank? Upgrading takes millennia. How will you wait?"

"Are funds tight?" Mo Lanyun thumped her chest. "I’ll buy you the best!"

Fang Lie warmed at her words, but Mo Wanfang sourly remarked, "I lack eighth-rank treasures too! Where’s my filial piety? Her dowry’s sent before the wedding—is this proper?"

"Father!" Mo Lanyun flushed. "You own eight or nine eighth-rank treasures—more than me! How can you complain?"

Fang Lie gaped. "That many? How many does the Mo Sect possess?"

"Don’t listen to her!" Mo Wanfang reddened. "Most are sect property or gifts from my father. I merely borrow them—they’re not truly mine."

Remembering Mo Wanfang’s status as next Sect Leader—guaranteeing heavy protection—Fang Lie understood. Having a Semi-Immortal father explained everything.

Changing topics, Mo Wanfang began, "For eighth-rank detection treasures, we have three—"

"Stop!" Fang Lie cut in. "Seventh-rank. I want seventh-rank."

Mo Wanfang stared. "You’re nation-rich, swimming in contribution points and merits. Why settle? One rank difference means dozens-fold power disparity!"

"Why not better ones?" Mo Lanyun pressed.

Fang Lie hesitated, then confessed, "Eighth-rank treasures overpower me. Forced submission via experts leaves them weakened. I want treasures I’ve raised myself—seventh-rank upgraded to eighth, retaining full power."

"But you know upgrading treasures, especially from seventh-rank to eighth-rank, is extremely difficult," Mo Wanfang said. "You might ascend before they ever upgrade. Isn’t this reckless?" He paused suddenly, eyes widening. "Wait—you’re not foolish enough to miss this problem. Yet you persist. That means only one thing: you can make them advance quickly. Right?"

"Your family’s cleverness astounds me," Fang Lie admitted, grinning. "One hint and you unravel everything. Yes, I’ve got a method to boost seventh-rank treasures to eighth-rank rapidly."

"What?!" Mo Wanfang, Mo Lanyun, and Mao Mao gasped together. "How?"

"This." Fang Lie produced the Netherworld warship, balancing it on his palm.

The trio leaned in, brows furrowed. "It radiates Netherworld Ghost Fire’s aura," Mo Wanfang said, "but why’s it silver?"

"Mutation." Fang Lie’s eyes sparkled. "I had Xuan Sect forge this eighth-rank warship. We fused twenty eighth-rank Netherworld Ghost Fire treasures into it. Their combined power altered its form—hence the color."

"This thing burns treasure spirits as fuel," he continued. "The resulting flame lets treasures absorb spiritual energy to rank up. Xuan Sect tested it—burned one Demonic Path eighth-rank treasure to elevate three Tao Sect seventh-ranks."

Mo Wanfang choked. "Impossible! Xuan Sect would never part with such a heaven-defying treasure!"

"They offered their Ninth-Rank Black Steel Mountain Seal initially." Fang Lie smirked. "When I refused, they handed this over. Would they risk that for a fake?"

"Damnation!" Mo Wanfang summoned Flying Swords sending messages. "This exceeds my authority. Father must decide."

"Your luck’s absurd!" Mo Wanfang groaned. "Undying nature, mutant treasures… Why don’t I get such fortunes?"

Fang Lie chuckled darkly. "Simple! Get falsely accused of murder and rape. Endure public ruin and three tortures. Survive the Cycle of Fire. Presto—undying nature!"

"You think me suicidal?" Mo Wanfang snapped. "How’d you survive that hell?"

"Sheer stubbornness." Fang Lie’s smile turned brittle.

Air rippled as Mo Qianxun materialized, Immortal-Style robes swirling. "Must you air old grievances? It’s undignified."

Fang Lie said nothing, though his eyes flashed—This shame is yours, Sect Leader, for losing control of your sect.

"What crisis demands my immediate—" Mo Qianxun began.

"Worse than attacks," Mo Wanfang interrupted, explaining the warship.

Mo Qianxun’s jaw dropped. "Bullshit! No such treasure exists!" He snatched the warship, sitting cross-legged. Divine sense enveloped the artifact.

Fifteen minutes later, he jolted upright. "VIP Sir’s beard! It’s real!"