A first-level wind mage can only concentrate a single gust of wind. With each level gained, the number of wind blades doubles. By the sixth level, a swift-wind mage commands thirty-two such blades. Thump-thump-thump… Amid the swirling blades, furniture shatters, and the hat-wearing man's body is torn apart as if dissolved into mist. Starlight magic? The wind god's brow furrows, then suddenly sees the hat-wearing man appear before him, gripping a dagger in his left hand and a gun in his right, aiming the gun directly at him. A sudden unease stirs within the elegant wind god, who ignores both the enemy and the incoming bullets, and extends his hand to the right, summoning a wall of rushing air. Saint-level technique: Wind Wall! The Wind Wall is the wind mage's sole defensive ability, formed by the convergence of swiftly flowing air. The faster the blade or bullet, the stronger the rebound. Its drawback is that it offers little resistance against heavy, slow-moving weapons. "Bang! Bang!" The two thunderous gunshots, however, do not come from ahead—but from the right. Two golden projectiles struck the rapidly flowing air wall and were instantly propelled backward—one embedded into the ceiling, the other piercing the bedsheet and vanishing. Though the wind mage could not resist illusions, he could sense the true positions of his enemies through changes in airflow. Amid the gunfire, the illusion dissolved on its own, revealing the man in the baseball cap on the right. The wind deity neither glanced at the stray bullets nor focused on the enemy; instead, he pressed his palm against Jia Fei Zhang’s shoulder, settling him firmly into the seat, then suddenly lifted his other hand upward. "Wooosh—!" The airflow within the bedroom instantly surged into a violent storm, lifting furniture fragments, quilts, computers, and every other object onto the ceiling. In this enclosed, all-encompassing assault, the enemy had no place to hide. This was a specially designed sealing device crafted to counter the nocturnal deity. Among various professions, numerous tools with sealing or restricting functions exist—no profession boasts a flawless form of evasive movement. The man in the cap, along with the debris, was hurled upward toward the ceiling, making a heavy, resonant sound. Immediately, the Wind God's wings activated, forming thirty-two razor-sharp blades capable of cleaving through gold and jade, which he then swept across the flying enemies with a single motion. "Pfft, pfft, pfft, pfft..." The man in the cap, pressed tightly against the ceiling, disintegrated within the wind blades, his limbs and organs falling like fragments onto the floor, making soft "plinks" as they landed. Hm? The Wind God himself was momentarily taken aback. Though he was confident in the power of his wind blades, such a clean and decisive execution of the attack was unexpected. The enemies had no proper defensive equipment at all. He carefully examined the remains scattered on the floor—his flesh pale, organs dark and lifeless, with not a single drop of fresh blood. Between the broken flesh, a circular disk, palm-sized and engraved with constellations, rolled down. This... The Wind God's expression grew serious. At that very moment, a cold breeze swept toward the bald middle-aged man, Jia Feizheng. Without pausing to think further, the Wind God’s Wings plucked a thundermark insignia and pressed it against Jia Fei Zhang’s chest. "Zzzz~" Bright blue electric arcs leapt across Jia Fei Zhang’s body, deflecting the damp wind. Thunder-based power, being the most rigid and yang, has a particularly strong affinity for neutralizing spiritual beings and lingering spirits. The Wind God then produced a blue-red cloak, unfolded it, and draped it over his back. Instantly, bright blue light surged in his eye sockets, and a thundermark emerged prominently at the center of his forehead. Electric arcs crackled and burst forth, dancing around his figure. The Wind God did not immediately intervene, instead calmly observing the swirling, chaotic wind circling the bedroom. With graceful composure, he said: "Using a spectral corpse as a decoy is indeed a clever strategy—few professions can effectively counter spiritual entities, and if the plan fails, they can simply abandon the corpse and allow the spirit to retreat at ease. I was deceived when you demonstrated your Star-Dashing Technique, which surprised me. Yet, given that I now know you are a high-level Night-Wanderer, how could As he spoke, he coalesced a lightning lash. "Crack!" Sparks erupted, ionizing the air. That gust of阴wind, like ants on a hot griddle, darted hither and thither, unable to escape or settle—each attempt to cling to him was met with a repelling surge of lightning energy. Watching helplessly as his body was struck again and again by the lashes, his breath rapidly fading. With each strike, the Wind God's wings delivered a psychological assault: "Waiting for your companions' aid? Hmph. We've already made preparations since we knew you were a Star Official—your master-level allies were ambushed by our Grand Master and Elders. You're said to be cunning and reserved—indeed, so it is. If your true form had come, with the Shadow Corpse and Spirit of Resentment supporting you, we'd have had to work harder to defeat you. Now, simply wait out your demise and embrace your fate." Suddenly, a sharp short blade pierced the Wind God's chest. His pupils contracted instantly, his body stiffened, and the motion of his whip ceased. The Wind God's wings turned with astonishing suddenness, gazing at Jia Feizheng, whom he had always protected. The bald middle-aged man smiled with a malicious, amused glint in his eyes. "Who told you we came as a team?" "You—you're..." Wind God's wings pressed against his chest as he stumbled backward, "You're the one who just arrived as a spiritual servant, aren't you? No, you're also a Star Official." He realized it now—two Star Officials hidden within the shade of the shade corpse, two spiritual beings concealed. One had already taken over Jia Feizheng's body at the very beginning, devouring his soul and memories. The subsequent conversations, and the spiritual servant's retreat gesture made by the man in the baseball cap—had all been designed to mask the one still hidden by the window. Jia Feizheng chuckled. "You're still half-asleep when you talk strategy with the Star Officials, aren't you? Hah! Only you foreigners, so clumsy, dare to play this game in the second-largest district—never thought you'd dare to challenge the Star Officials directly." Wind God's face turned ashen, disregarding the pain in his chest, … At the sweet shop, Zhang Yuanqing silently pondered: The First District doesn’t produce Night-Wanderers. Is this celestial official a talent recruited by divine punishment, or one from the Second District? If the latter, is it from Tai Men, or from the Dark Night Rose? Hmm, it can’t be absolutely certain—since the Prophecy of the Compass of Light emerged, various organizations have been actively recruiting Night-Wanderers. It’s entirely reasonable that major overseas organizations maintain a few Night-Wanderers and celestial officials. Did you know the night wanderers are all liver champions? Zhang Yuanqing looked toward the curry street and said, "Your stewards are in danger." Cao Qianxi looked utterly puzzled, not quite grasping what he meant. Before she could ask for clarification, a hurried and serious voice from the headset—Group Leader "Self-Improving Without Ceasing"—spoke up: "All members, gather immediately. Something's gone wrong on the curry street. The Wind God's Wing steward is in critical condition. We need immediate reinforcements." Cao Qianxi's eyes widened instantly. "Received!" Zhang Yuanqing said, pressing the headset, then turned to the dazed girl, "During your mission, maintain absolute composure. Any disruption to your mindset will be fatal." With that, he strode briskly out of the sweet shop. Zhang Yuanqing had deliberately said this—to establish in Cao Qianxi's eyes an image of maturity, stability, and experience—so as to set the stage for the genuine revelation of his true rank later. Only then did Cao Qianxi realize what was happening, and she quickly rose to follow, pulling the curtain door shut behind her. Curry Street is about one kilometer from the sweet shop. At Gao Qianxiu and Zhang Yuanqing’s pace, they reached the designated spot in less than a minute. It was 11:30 p.m. in the deep night, and the Tangren Street was sparsely populated, half of the area dark, the other half barely illuminated by light. Amid the parked cars, Zhang Yuanqing spotted around twenty to thirty people gathered at the entrance of a residential building, their faces anxious, looking up toward a particular window. Lightning flashed inside the window, yet no sound came from within. A few young people wearing baseball caps held laptops, typing with one hand, while several drones circled above the crowd. Above them, wind mages glided on the breeze—mages who, though unable to fly, could glide. “Judge!” A voice rang out from above. Gao Qianxiu and Zhang Yuanqing looked up to see a figure gliding through the air on the wind. She is a young girl, around sixteen or seventeen, with a round, youthful face still retaining a baby-like softness. Her eyes are bright and luminous, full of life. Dressed in a white knitted top and light, tailored jeans, she exudes a vibrant, sweet charm. At this moment, however, her round, sweet face is marked with anxiety. "White Snow, what's going on?" Cao Qianshou asked urgently. White Snow Princess glanced at Zhang Yuanqing briefly, without time for small talk or greetings, and grasped Cao Qianshou's arm, speaking quickly: "I heard from the team leader that the Wind God's steward has planned to seal off the house and trap the murderer inside—this way, ordinary people won't be harmed, and the killer won't be able to escape. "But just now, the drone footage showed that the Wind God's steward has sustained serious injuries and is now in critical condition." Cao Qianshou's expression darkened. "So you've all gathered here because you're unable to break the seal or rescue anyone?" "Princess Snow White nodded firmly: "The team leaders have already contacted the organization's senior management, but... but the response has been to wait a little longer..." She furrowed her delicate brows, growing increasingly agitated, tapping her feet impatiently: "We can wait, but the Wind Spirit Steward cannot. The senior management seems to be doing nothing! Even a steward would be enough—just breaking the seal, the Wind Spirit Steward could escape." As she spoke, several others approached. Leading them was a young man in his twenties or early thirties, with a square face, a neat haircut, a sturdy build, and sharp, clear eyes—giving off a strong sense of positive energy. Behind him were three others: one was a plump young man in a black t-shirt, wearing black-framed glasses, perfectly embodying the "homebody" image. Another was a spirited youth with a short ponytail, handsome in features, though the combination of his sharpness and assertiveness felt somewhat jarring. The third was a straightforward, down-to-earth young man with ordinary features and height, yet solid and broad-shouldered. Zhang Yuanqing glanced at the four of them, instantly recognizing each by their demeanor and facial features. "We've successfully contacted the steward of the 'Yellow Wind Monster,' who is en route. Everyone, please don't worry," said Zizhengbin, first updating Cao Qianxiu, then giving a slight nod to Zhang Yuanqing. "That's great," breathed Princess Snow, exhaling in relief. The Yellow Wind Monster is a Level 4 Wind Wielder—though far from matching the Wind God's Wings, he's still a Saint. Cao Qianxiu surveyed her teammates and asked, "Why has this happened? The organization's senior leadership should have a well-thought-out plan. How come we're in such disarray?" The team members exchanged glances, at a loss for words. Even Zizhengbin, who had just earlier stated that "the organization naturally has everything arranged," found himself speechless. It seemed the organization had stumbled. Seeing no one respond, Cao Qianxiu instinctively turned her gaze toward Zhang Yuanqing. Zhang Yuanqing looked toward the window: "Even the most meticulous plan amounts to an open-book exam for the Star Officials. If the senior leadership fails to arrive, they're likely caught up in other matters. Never attempt to ambush the Star Officials—when it comes to strategic layout, no other profession in the Lingjing realm can match them. The senior leadership simply lacks sufficient experience interacting with the Night Wandering Deities." The proud sea-physician Lin Sheng scoffed, "It's too late now to be making these points." Sea-Physician Lin—yes, the top-tier Fire Master of the First District, actually even more brash than that. While the Fire Master speaks without much thought, the Sea-Physician is known for provoking. Zhang Yuanqing glanced at him. Having served as a Lingjing Traveler for so long, he had learned to be patient. Some professions simply speak without thinking—you just have to accept it. At that moment, a sudden gale swept through, and a middle-aged man in pajamas glided through the night sky. The members of the Anti-Black-and-White Alliance breathed a collective sigh of relief and cheered, "Yellow Wind Monster Executive!" The middle-aged man gazed at the window flashing with lightning, ignoring the members in the neighborhood. He spread his hands, causing the surrounding air to boil. Gales swept up dust and debris, blinding the members below. Under his control, the boiling air coalesced into sharp gusts of wind, which then gathered into larger, more powerful gusts. With the breath held in anticipation by Princess Snow White and the others, the middle-aged steward, Huang Fengguai, pressed his palms firmly forward. "Whoa—!" A roar of wind surged, and a six-meter-long gust of wind suddenly sliced through, striking the thin barrier. The barrier trembled twice before settling, and the gust of wind dispersed into a strong breeze. It hadn't broken the seal... a bit awkward. The expectant glances of the members froze, their expressions stiffening. Huang Fengguai's face grew pale. "Not... not yet," Gao Qianxi's face went pale. The members of Group Six now looked serious. It's too late to save the Wind God Servant now—unless the Monks or the Grand Marshal arrive immediately, the Wind God Servant is doomed. How long can someone in such a desperate situation last? The Wind Blade Specialist isn't a high-defense, self-healing profession; making it this far is no small feat. "What are we going to do? What are we going to do?" Princess Snow cried, nearly breaking down with urgency. At that moment, a soft chime sounded from Zhang Yuanqing's pocket phone. He pulled out the phone to check the message: "Main body confirmed—no high-tier Ling Realm travelers are hidden nearby. I've already established my disguise and am ready for the Celestial Master to step in at any moment." Zhang Yuanqing replied, "Wait until I break through the seal as a swordmaster, then you'll step in!" The duplicate responded, "Received!" Zhang Yuanqing put the phone away and walked toward the apartment building. As he went, he opened his inventory and pulled out a bronze sword two feet long. Gao Qianxiu, standing behind him, was momentarily stunned and called out, "What are you doing?"