"Of course, it's the stewards we're saving," Zhang Yuanqing said, then suddenly launched into action, drawing his sword and charging across the street, cutting through the members of the guild, racing toward the apartment complex. To save the stewards? Cao Qianxiu and the members of Group Six exchanged puzzled glances, wondering if they had misunderstood. A second-tier scout showing up for a spectacle? In a saint-phase battle, where even a single skill could instantly eliminate a transcendental being—what was he thinking? "He must simply want to impress everyone. How foolish! The yellow wind steward couldn't even break through the seal. What good would it do him now? Wouldn't that only make things worse?" The esteemed physician, Master Yilin, had significantly lowered his initial impression of this new member. Others remained silent, sharing similar expressions and thoughts. Only Cao Qianxiu frowned, unconsciously recalling what the young tenant had said at the sweet shop. How could he have known the stewards were in danger… A sudden sense of anticipation stirred within her. At this moment, Zhang Yuanqing had already swept past the members of the anti-black-and-white alliance, rushing forward along the walls at a 90-degree angle, drawing gasps of surprise and bewilderment from the onlookers. With each leap, he used the air conditioning units and window sills as leverage, moving upward with graceful, fluid motion. "Ah, what is he doing? Is he performing parkour?" "Who is this guy? Where has he come from? I've never seen him before." "Is he a friend of one of the members? We're asking everyone to quickly clear out—should anyone be injured or killed, we won't be responsible. Good heavens, he's approaching the battlefield now, holding his broken sword." The ground-level practitioners of the Lingjing began to shout, as if finally finding an outlet for their accumulated frustration and disappointment. Meanwhile, Zhang Yuanqing had already reached the sixth floor, half-crawling, half-running. He leapt onto an air conditioning unit, then launched himself upward, clearing the seventh floor and hovering just outside the eighth-floor window, where flashes of lightning danced. In his floating state, he bent slightly, gathered his strength, and then suddenly brought A bright, arcing blade of energy surged from the sword's tip, striking the thin membrane enveloping the bedroom with a sharp "puff." In the midst of everyone's astonishment, the once-unbreakable seal instantly collapsed. Zhang Yuanqing, descending, grasped the air conditioning unit, exerted a slight force, shattered the glass, and leapt into the bedroom. Cao Qianxiu took a deep breath and stared at her as if she were foolish: "At this point, to still believe he's a second-tier scout is simply a matter of intelligence." The other members of Group Six nodded silently. To Zhang Yuanqing, the spiritual form was unmistakable—a middle-aged man with a distinctly Eastern face, features resembling those of people from the North China region. One possessed, one detached—now I’ve got both in one go. As Zhang Yuanqing watched the Wind God’s attendant raise his thunder whip to swing at him, he immediately said, "I’m a newly recruited swordsman from the Anti-Black-and-White Alliance, here to save you." The wind god attendant, momentarily disoriented, paused mid-swipe, and a spark of brightness ignited in his dimmed eyes. Zhang Yuanqing then produced a tube of life essence and tossed it over, adding, "Inject half the tube—don’t go over." He’d worry if there was too much. After the wind god’s attendant caught it, Zhang Yuanqing flicked his wrist and sent a surge of sword energy toward the bald man. The item had been borrowed in advance from Fu Qingyang’s faction warehouse; its only function was to generate sword energy comparable to that of a fifth-level swordsman—something of little value to a fifth-level swordsman himself, yet perfectly suited for Zhang Yuanqing to portray one. "Pffft!" The sword's aura swept past the bald middle-aged man's neck, momentarily blocked by the green light supported by the vines. Yet the next instant, the green light dissolved, and his head rolled to the ground, the sharp force of the sword's momentum still undiminished, carving deep gashes into the wall behind. A gushing fountain of blood erupted from his empty neck, splashing onto the ceiling. The lifeless body leaned back and collapsed, two streaks of starlight appearing before fading away. The two star officials retreated, refraining from pursuing the Wind God's Wings—perhaps because their mission was complete, or perhaps out of reverence for the Saint Realm swordsman. After all, a swordsman's shock aura could subdue malevolent spirits and ethereal beings. The Wind God's Wings grew alarmed, tossed the remaining golden liquid back to Zhang Yuanqing, pressed her hands to her chest still healing, and leapt out the window, exclaiming, "Don't let them escape! Pursue them quickly!" "Pursue what?" Zhang Yuanqing replied calmly. "Can you see ethereal forms? Or can you perceive the night wanderers? As Wind God's Wings, you've barely survived this encounter. If I were you, The Wind God's wings leaned against the wall, unwilling to give up, and finally, with a slow stretch, slid down against the wall, settling with a weary sigh. ... Two streaks of starlight flickered continuously within the residence before gradually departing the Chinatown area. The night in New Covenant County shimmered brilliantly, with vibrant neon lights and an unceasing flow of vehicles. The two spiritual forms floated gently at low altitude, drifting farther and farther from Chinatown. At that moment, a gust of wind surged ahead, and a figure emerged from the night. He was a young man with unremarkable features, wearing a plain T-shirt and jeans, and sporting a pair of pale blue half-gloves. A Wind Mage? A Divine Judgment inspector? The two star officials exchanged a glance and silently moved aside to avoid the approaching Wind Mage, striving to leave quietly. Suddenly, the young man turned his head, his gaze fixed steadily on the two officials, black, viscous energy welling up in his eyes. With a smile, he said, "You've been waiting a long time, haven't you?" A fellow night-wanderer of the same profession? No. This aura—this is the aura of a Star Official. The two Star Officials were suddenly startled. In front of fellow Star Officials, their spiritual states were as if they had severed their own arms and legs. With no other option than to flee, they immediately prepared to cast the Star Evade technique. Before the starlight even rose, the young man with ordinary features lifted his head and let out a piercing cry—mental shock. Their consciousness exploded with a thunderous "boom," shattering into countless fragments and leaving them unconscious. Zhang Yuanqing took a steady breath, and the two unconscious spiritual bodies flowed into his mouth like mist. A flood of chaotic memory fragments surged in—his mind flashed through their memories like a carousel. He saw training grounds built within a tropical rainforest, children forced by hired soldiers to repeat grueling drills every day. He saw two children rise above the rest, successfully obtaining the Night Wandering God role cards. He saw them, under the organization's arrangements, complete one after another assassination missions. These memory fragments are scattered and disordered, much like yellowed photographs documenting the lives of two star officers. As the scenes alternate, the two officers return to the tropical rainforest training camp and meet their instructor, who never ages. "The organization has been searching for a century-long key—now there are clear leads. The target is in the Tang Street of Xinyue County. The person has no distinct physical features and no official identification. Once you arrive in Tang Street, someone will meet you." "Remember the target's characteristics: in their forties or fifties, a single-parent household, with a mother who has connections to the underworld or who once held an unseemly job, suddenly becoming wealthy." "Upon locating the target, kill Ling directly—make no further actions. After Ling's death, you will naturally understand what the organization is seeking." The scenes alternate once more, and Zhang Yuanqing now sees a tall man with thick, arched brows and a square face, exuding a strong, rugged authority reminiscent of a provincial folk hero. The tall man held a fan-shaped copper piece in his hands, his voice resonant and his tone deep: "When my father passed away, he gave this to me—his only private son. Now, I too will pass it on to my own private son. Young man, you're my blood, so you'll be the one to guard it. 'Guard it with your life,' understood?" "Father, what is this?" the boy asked, his voice young and full of curiosity. "This is a relic of the Pope—something our family has protected through the generations. But remember three things: first, never give it to foreigners. Second, never give it to someone who's a failure. Third, never give it to a bad person." "I'll protect him well." "Mr. Zhang, your safe code is 0042. Please enter your password and fingerprint. I'll then take you for iris recognition." The scene ends here. Zhang Yuanqing pressed his foreheads together, calming himself from the mental disarray and mild pollution caused by the loss of two star-level officials. "The strength of the Taiyin energy has surged noticeably. Indeed, absorbing beings of comparable level is the most effective way to enhance Taiyin energy." "Which faction do those two star officials belong to? I've seen similar training programs before—ah, the 'Night Rose' program that cultivates star-level practitioners. So these two officials must be the Night Rose's informants." "The Pope's relic—what could have prompted two star officials to journey all the way to Xinjie County to seek it—must be... the ecclesiastical body from over a century ago. But how could such a relic be entrusted to a family of East Asian descent?" "Hmm. I only wanted to complete a task and accumulate points. How did I end up with such a series of events?" "Zhang Yuanqing thought for a moment, then had an idea, "Let the main body notify the eccentric president—he might know about the Holy Roman relics. Hmm, the role of joining the Anti-Black-and-White Alliance has now become evident; I can also gather information from this organization. He realized the Holy Roman relics might be no ordinary thing."