Chapter 71: The Third Kind of Saintly Power

“We swear to defend the dignity of North Desert City to the death!”
“Those who offend North Desert City—kill, kill, kill!”
The unified battle cry made the face of the Marquis of the Venomous Python turn dark as ink, his eyes flashing with fury. This was nothing short of blatant humiliation.
“City Lord Jin, you go too far!”
He fixed his gaze on Jin Buhuan, murderous intent surging and wavering around him.
“Heh! Go ahead, try laying a finger on me.”
But this only provoked a cold retort.
Once more, the Marquis of the Venomous Python’s fists clenched, nearly losing control.
Yet, for reasons unknown, clarity returned to his eyes at the last moment.
“Fine! I admit defeat!”
“Name your price!”
At these words, Jin Buhuan broke into a delighted grin.
“If you’d said so earlier, we wouldn’t have wasted everyone’s time.”
The marquis’s face was so dark it seemed about to drip water, but he gritted his teeth and endured.
He had no choice; there was a Martial King within the city, and he couldn’t afford to cross him.
“It’s simple, really. Pay five million taels and you may leave.”
Jin Buhuan spoke blandly.
But the Marquis immediately retorted,
“Five million taels? You dare ask that much?”
It was known that a Marquis-level expert could, at best, amass some one million taels through sheer will and labor.
Even those of their caliber—at the seventh tier of the Marquis rank—would, after a year of grueling effort, scrape together two or three million at most, much of which was consumed by their cultivation expenses. At the end of the year, little remained.
“Five million? You might as well kill me now.”
Chang Mang clearly didn’t have such wealth either.
Of course, Jin Buhuan had only blurted out the figure without much thought.
As city lord, he knew well that annual tax revenue for North Desert City amounted to just thirty million taels—and that was for a metropolis of millions.
Smaller cities of just tens of thousands would consider a million in yearly tax quite high.
“If you’re not satisfied with the price, we can negotiate,” Jin Buhuan said with a smile.
The Marquis’s face turned livid.
When had he ever been so manipulated? He silently vowed not to forget this humiliation.
“Two million, and not a coin more!”
But Jin Buhuan was convinced he could squeeze out a bit more.
“Three million!”
“Impossible, two million is my limit.”
“Very well! Then today, the sons of North Desert will lay down their lives for justice!”
At these words, the Marquis of the Venomous Python nearly cursed aloud.
What in the blazes was this? Had he known it would come to this, he’d never have stepped foot in this city.

The city lord was nothing short of a shameless rogue.
“Two and a half million! That’s my final offer!”
He gritted his teeth and forced the words out.
Seeing the marquis’s pained expression, Jin Buhuan knew he’d reached the limit.
Any further pressure might push him over the edge.
If things truly turned ugly and the marquis was killed, the aftermath would be an utter mess—after all, the man was a foreign Marquis, and it could even trigger a war between nations.
“Very well! Two and a half million taels of silver, not a coin less.”
On hearing this, the marquis could hardly wait to leave.
He drew a stack of gold notes from his spatial ring and hurled them at Jin Buhuan.
“Count it! Two and a half million taels!”
With that, he turned and left without another word.
Jin Buhuan checked the sum, and, finding it accurate, broke into a joyful smile.
“All right, everyone may return home. The crisis is resolved!”
“As for this silver, I’ll have it distributed among you shortly.”
In normal times, the families would have accepted gleefully.
But now, none wished to take it.
Not because they hadn’t contributed—but because their efforts paled in comparison to another’s.
If word reached the Martial King, and he took offense, the consequences would far outweigh any gain.
“City Lord, the Zhao family will not accept this money,” Zhao Wude spoke first, setting an example.
With one man leading, the others quickly followed.
“The Liu family declines as well!”
“The Zhang family concurs.”
Nearly all families withdrew, save for the unaffiliated cultivators.
These men had nothing to lose and feared no retaliation.
Besides, they knew well that a Martial King would hardly spare them a thought.
Once the division was complete, over a million and seven hundred thousand taels remained.
“In that case, I’ll seek out the Martial King and present him with the remainder.”
Hearing this, the families all agreed.
That was precisely their intention.
They dared not take the money, but if it could win the Martial King’s favor, the benefits for North Desert City and its families would be countless.
Should a Martial King be willing to reside here, the city’s influence would soar, elevating it to a first-rate power.
Henceforth, the people of North Desert City would carry far greater weight in any dealings beyond these walls.
“Excellent! I will not betray your goodwill.”
With these assurances, the families finally dispersed.

Jin Buhuan, meanwhile, hurried toward the Martial King’s location.
Yet, as he drew closer, a sense of familiarity struck him.
Soon, he realized something astonishing—the Martial King appeared to be living with Xiao Yang.
Within three hundred miles, spiritual energy converged into streams, all pouring toward the Fortune Tower.
Above the tower hung a pitch-black vortex, madly devouring the surrounding spiritual energy.
“As expected of a Martial King—he’s swallowing the spiritual energy of three hundred miles without effort.”
Witnessing this terrifying phenomenon, Jin Buhuan murmured in awe, his curiosity about the Martial King growing even stronger.
He knew that even the Northern Dipper King, when breaking through, had absorbed the spiritual energy of no more than a hundred miles—and he was ranked first among the ten nations. Yet this man had swallowed three times as much in a single breath.
Jin Buhuan could scarcely imagine his power.
Moreover, he dared not enter, lest he disturb the one inside.
Thus, a peculiar scene appeared before the Fortune Tower:
The city lord, usually busier than anyone, was found idling in front of a shop, lost in thought.
Of course, Xiao Yang was oblivious to all this.
He was, at that moment, caught between joy and pain.
“So full!”
His entire body brimmed with spiritual power; every pore seemed to breathe not air, but pure energy.
Crack!
With a muffled snap, it felt as if some internal shackle had been broken.
In the next instant, spiritual energy rushed toward his core, condensing within his dantian.
The vast ocean of energy within him vanished in a few breaths.
“Ding! Source Saint Power—second layer achieved.”
His inner energy was now condensed to the size of a basketball.
But, having experienced this before, Xiao Yang was unfazed—this was a good thing.
The second layer of Source Saint Power brought a staggering sixtyfold enhancement.
Just then, a prompt sounded again.
“Ding! Cultivation has reached Great Martial Master; you may now comprehend the Nine Saints Unity Art.”
“Ding! Comprehended Soul Saint Power.”
With his ten-thousandfold talent amplification, Xiao Yang instantly mastered the third Saint Power.
He quickly opened his skill panel to examine the Soul Saint Power:
Name: Soul Saint Power
Attribute: Triples soul strength
Description: Soul Saint Power is divided into nine layers; every three layers grants a unique ability.