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Who could have imagined that a humble Silver Sword Peak would see both master and disciple named on the Chronicles of the Nine Provinces? What virtue or ability did they possess to deserve such attention?

Staring at this news, Chu Liang recalled that on the rare occasions when the Imperial Phoenix Maiden made it into the Seven Stars Gazette, it was never for anything good. He couldn't help but suspect that perhaps there was someone in the Celestial Pivot Pavilion who held a grudge against his master. After all, in her youth, she had not only been a tyrant in Mount Shu, but had also bullied disciples from other immortal sects during her travels—hardly a surprise if one of her victims had grown up to become a member of the Pavilion, now taking subtle jabs at her through the Gazette.

If the report had merely recounted the facts, Chu Liang might not have been so suspicious. But the wording—“notorious misdeeds,” “a cause for celebration”—was simply too telling. On Mount Shu, he could run into eight people with grudges against his master just on a trip to buy supplies. In a world as vast as this, it would be stranger if she didn’t have enemies.

For Chu Liang, this served as a warning: in the future, when traveling the martial world, he should mention his master’s name as little as possible. Otherwise, a scenario was all too likely—if three people wanted to fight him before, once he revealed his master was the Imperial Phoenix Maiden, thirty more might rush in to join.

The following passages detailed the affairs of the Whale Gang, one of the Ten Territories. The Whale Gang dominated the four seas, controlling a vast network of maritime and river transport, boasting a membership in the hundreds of thousands and spanning the length and breadth of the Nine Provinces. With such a massive sphere of influence, its power structure was far more complex than any immortal sect.

Its name, the Whale Gang of the Four Seas, came from the fact that it was divided into four main branches: East, South, West, and North. These branches were independent, even competitive, and sometimes clashed with one another.

The true seat of power lay in the Hall of Sea Rain and Sky Wind, comprised of esteemed elders from each branch who had made significant contributions to the gang. While this council did not interfere in daily affairs, it held authority over all major decisions, including the election of the Grandmaster of the Whale Gang.

Naturally, each branch tried to get as many of their own into the council as possible, so that in crucial moments, the decisions would favor them. However, entry into the council was strictly regulated—no unworthy candidate could hope to slip in.

The Grandmaster’s position was up for election every ten years, and the time for a new selection was approaching. The incumbent, Xu Bashan, was highly respected, powerful, and just, and under his leadership the Whale Gang had flourished—his re-election seemed only natural.

Yet recently, Jiang Shenting, the leader of the East Whale branch, had voluntarily stepped down, passing the position to a trusted confidant—a move that sent ripples through the organization. Branch leaders were not eligible to run for Grandmaster, and Jiang Shenting, a rising star who had transformed the East Whale into the most powerful of the four branches in just ten years, was widely expected to succeed Xu Bashan.

His sudden resignation left only one possible explanation: he was preparing to run for Grandmaster. To outsiders, this seemed a bit too eager.

The intricacies of power struggles were lost on most observers. Chu Liang had only one thought: his master’s seaside escapade was considered more newsworthy than this?

Utterly absurd!

If not for the overwhelming news of the Demon God’s return, she would probably have been given the front page headline. It was as if they were afraid she wouldn’t be embarrassed enough.

This issue of the Chronicles was so enthralling to Chu Liang that the subsequent section, Tales from the Martial World, felt almost dull by comparison. Mount Shu had no entries this time; the most eye-catching tidbit was the new romantic entanglement of the current Sea King Sect leader—not exactly news anymore.

Alternatively, Southern Melody Hall’s inner disciple Xue Lingxue was about to begin her summer tour, heralding the feverish season for the Hall’s musicians. Both Sea King Sect and Southern Melody Hall ranked among the Ten Territories, and compared to the Nine Heavens Sects, their news felt more grounded and relatable—hence their frequent appearances in the Gazette.

…

Setting aside this month’s Seven Stars Gazette, Chu Liang gazed out the window, eyes bright with anticipation.

This was a fascinating world—a place of danger and opportunity, sorrow and joy, full of endless wonders. The fact that he had the chance to step onto its grand stage was truly exhilarating.

To set foot on this stage, there was only one principle: become stronger.

His gaze returned to the "True Explanation of Talismanic Arts."

Hard work brings a thousandfold reward.

Since his tentative attempt at drawing talismans in mid-air had succeeded last night, he saw no need to practice on paper any longer. It would be better to try combining swordsmanship with talismanic arts directly.

It was a bolder step than Jiang Yuebai had recommended, but he was used to that.

He’d always learned faster than others… at least, when it came to studying.

After a quick wash, he stepped outside to the open hillside, raised his hand, and summoned his flying sword.

Sword Control Technique!

The sword danced through the air, tracing intricate arcs of silver light at his mental command. The lines appeared so swiftly that the next was already forming before the previous one faded, their trails weaving into a silver talismanic character.

Talismanic Sword Art!

Release!

With a sweep of his hand, the talisman completed, and the sword shot forward with a piercing whoosh.

A wisp of green smoke curled from the tip as it flew.

…

Chu Liang recalled the sword and felt its slightly warm surface, pondering.

Smoke but no fire—he had failed.

Reviewing the process in his mind, he surmised that the sword’s form had warped during the mid-air inscription. Although Sword Control was responsive, precise control was much harder, and while such a nuance might go unnoticed in combat, even a slight deviation would cause failure when casting the Talismanic Sword Art.

This time, instead of letting the sword fly, he gripped it and guided it slowly through the air by hand, stabilizing the inscription.

The swordlight formed the talisman once more.

Release.

With a thought, a surge of sword energy burst forth, this time accompanied by roaring flames that exploded on the ground ahead.

Boom!

A simple stroke of sword energy, now magnified in power by the flames.

Chu Liang’s eyes gleamed. So this was the Talismanic Sword Art.

When talismans combined with sword energy, the effect was not merely additive. It was as if wind fueled fire and fire lent wind its might—the two amplified one another exponentially.

If he could master a talisman of wind, then unleash both wind and fire together, the resulting sword energy would be even more devastating.

The path of talismans was profound and boundless. Simple runes could be combined into formidable array talismans, and if such powerful talismans could be paired with sword energy…

The mere thought was thrilling.

Heart pounding, Chu Liang was eager to continue his practice and consolidate his gains.

Just then, a furious roar erupted from the small pavilion, followed by a thunderous crash as the ground shook and flames shot into the sky.

Boom!

Chu Liang was not surprised—this was simply how the Imperial Phoenix Maiden expressed her anger.

He had to exhaust himself to improve his strength, yet his master could unleash such power just by losing her temper—a fact that left him rather envious.

No doubt, she had just read the Seven Stars Gazette’s account of her seaside excursion. Chu Liang had seen this coming.

Still…

He pondered whether he ought to comfort his master.

Approaching her in her current mood was not the wisest choice. In the past, he might have done the opposite—fled to avoid her wrath.

But if he didn’t try to calm her down, he worried she might march straight to the Celestial Pivot Pavilion to confront their reporters.

One could do many things in the martial world.

But under no circumstances should one ever hit a journalist.