Otherworld Advance Team
Chapter 1633 - 1626: Delight in Others’ Misfortune

Chapter 1633: Chapter 1626: Delight in Others’ Misfortune

"Hah, if they’re going to fight, why should we care!" Hu Daoke glanced at Luo’er and said with some disappointment.

"How ridiculous. This matter involves us; how can we let the conflict erupt without intervening?" Luo’er glared at him and retorted sharply.

Upon hearing this, the burly Hu Daoke shrank his neck, no longer speaking, and began looking around to conceal his embarrassment.

Cheng Ziang silently observed Luo’er. After listening to Luo’er’s words, he turned back and chuckled, shaking his head slightly.

Luo’er was still the same Luo’er, unchanged even a bit. If he had chosen not to intervene in the imminent conflict below, Cheng Ziang would have failed to comprehend such behavior.

Luo’er was the quintessential man of the world—steadfast in his principles and unyielding in doing what is right, thereby attracting those of similar integrity. Every path he tread seemed to radiate the purest brilliance of humanity.

Since he assumed the role of Advance Team Captain, he had never relied on so-called imperial strategies or manipulative tactics to govern his subordinates. Instead, he treated them genuinely and earnestly.

Facts proved that genuine sincerity might not always exchange for true loyalty, but feigned sincerity can never earn one’s trust.

For most of his tenure as Captain, Luo’er was busier than anyone else. During the recent period when he pretended to be a Saint, he gained a temporary reprieve, only to soon feel a profound sense of unease.

The members of the Advance Team were not callous-hearted. How kindly Luo’er treated them—they remembered it all. That’s why they unanimously agreed to let Luo’er play the role of Saint, aiming to help him relax while the intricate tasks were entrusted to them.

Cheng Ziang felt that he was unsuitable to be Captain—not only due to his indecisiveness but also because he lacked the temperament of Luo’er, who believed in forbearance over vendetta.

Despite his efforts to suppress a violent streak, Cheng Ziang often found his aggression escaping in moments of weakness.

Especially when wielding absolute power in his hands, the temptation for slaughter frequently overwhelmed him.

In this regard, Luo’er utterly eclipsed him.

Cheng Ziang’s absolute power stemmed from Liseya, the Demigod, though he wasn’t the first to possess the strength of a Demigod.

As the Advance Team’s original Demigod, Fulajie’er, nominally a member of the team, actually followed Luo’er’s orders almost exclusively.

Should Luo’er desire it, Fulajie’er’s combat prowess could rival Liseya’s entirely.

Yet the truth was that Luo’er never allowed himself to become tyrannical due to having a Demigod as an ally. On the contrary, he even required Fulajie’er, despite her Demigod status, to restrain her martial might and focus solely on auxiliary support tasks.

The tyrant rules the world through force, but the benevolent gathers hearts with kindness. Luo’er may never become a tyrant, but he was undoubtedly a virtuous man.

Upon hearing the commotion behind him, Huayu Ting did not turn around. He seemed to know who had arrived.

"You are...?" Seeing the mask on Feng’s face, Wuting Yan had approximately guessed her identity but still couldn’t help but ask aloud.

"The White Tiger under the Saint..." Feng replied coldly.

"The Saint—where is the Saint?" Wuting Yan asked excitedly upon hearing this response.

"The Saint wishes not to be entangled in worldly conflicts, only to practice quietly. I hope Manor Lord will understand."

Though Feng’s words were imperative, they carried no hint of a request. Her icy tone felt more like a command.

"One can practice anywhere—please trouble the Saint to grace my humble abode..." Wuting Yan implored urgently.

"The Saint understands your intention, Manor Lord, but he does not wish to mobilize unnecessarily, so please return." Feng’s tone remained frosty.

"Impossible! I must meet the Saint—either you hand him over or I’ll go inside and fetch him myself!" Wuting Yan growled, gritting his teeth.

"Heh..." Faced with Wuting Yan’s threat, Huayu Ting didn’t appear tense in the slightest; instead, he let out a cold laugh.

Turning his head to speak audibly for all to hear, he said, "Watch closely. Witness how I fight."

By saying this, Huayu Ting seemed to have resolved to engage in combat. Given his understanding of these individuals, it was clear that words alone could no longer quell this situation.

"In essence, all of you still see the Saint as an object to be seized, passed around at will." Huayu Ting turned back, his face gradually growing cold. "I’ve said it many times—the Saint is my invited guest, not someone to be trifled with, like a mere object."

"Since the Saint does not wish to meet you, if you dare to snatch my guest away, you’re opposing me, Huayu Ting. I won’t hesitate to rid my guest of such discourteous pests."

"You dare challenge me?" Wuting Yan sneered, showing a mocking cold smile.

"An old man barely stepping into the Golden Core Realm with one foot already in the grave—what’s there to fear?"

Huayu Ting sneered in return, his derision clearly more cutting than Wuting Yan’s.

"Huayu Ting! How dare you insult a senior member of my clan—face my strike!"

Surprisingly, the one provoked by these words wasn’t Wuting Yan, but rather the hot-headed Wuting Li. The burly young man, gasping heavily, swung his fists toward Huayu Ting with agility completely unexpected for someone of his stature.

Wuting Li had activated his magical power—he was, like many others, a practitioner of the Ba Path.

Given his physical size, one would expect him to master the Moving Mountain Sect. Yet the truth was contrary—he primarily practiced the Banshan Style, emphasizing speed and agility.

Naturally, as a noble scion, he couldn’t limit himself to just one style but had instead cultivated mastery across all Ba Path disciplines. Without such versatility, Ba-style practitioners like him were prone to premature deaths.

Facing Wuting Li’s ferocious strike, Huayu Ting remained unperturbed. Smiling faintly, he simply clapped his palms and struck toward Wuting Li’s face.

In the public eye, Huayu Ting naturally couldn’t stoop as low as resorting to dirty tactics. Yet he wasn’t intimidated either, as the opponent before him wasn’t even qualified for deceitful measures. From the very start, there was an inherent disparity between them.

As expected, Wuting Li lacked the courage for a fight to the death. Facing Huayu Ting’s direct strike targeting his face, he instinctively retreated to defend.

"Vein Cutting—Break!"

Seizing the moment as Wuting Li transitioned into a defensive stance, Huayu Ting abruptly changed his technique, aiming for Wuting Li’s chest while shouting fiercely.

In Kyushu, calling out techniques during combat was not customary. But Huayu Ting’s reason for doing so was simple—he wanted Feng standing behind him to understand the thought process behind each of his moves.

"Watch your chest!" Wuting Yan yelled sharply in warning.

Though Wuting Li was a Ba Path cultivator, his expertise in physical martial disciplines was drastically inferior to Huayu Ting’s, leaving him entirely at a loss against Huayu Ting’s sudden switch.

Huayu Ting landed a solid strike on Wuting Li’s chest, skillfully sealing the vital gate there. Overwhelmed by surging heat and nausea, Wuting Li couldn’t help but cry out, spitting large mouthfuls of blood.

Without giving Wuting Li a chance to recover, Huayu Ting capitalized on his loss of control over magical power, sweeping his leg toward Wuting Li’s neck.

Deprived of magical protection, Wuting Li stood no chance against Huayu Ting’s Moving Mountain-style sweeping kick. Knocked off his feet, he tumbled through the crowd like a ragdoll, life or death now uncertain.

"Huayu Ting!"

Witnessing his junior’s plight, Wuting Yan was seething with rage, his eyes wide with fury as he bellowed angrily at Huayu Ting.

"Such unworthy individuals—they disgust me even to touch." Huayu Ting remarked indifferently, his disdain showing no restraint.

"Oh? Well then, how about you take a strike from me!" Wuting Yan furiously demanded, preparing his stance.

"Wuting Yan, as an elder of the Wuting Clan, you hold my respect as a senior. Don’t push it too far." Huayu Ting retorted.

"Heh, if you acknowledge me as a senior, then why defy me? Now, all words are meaningless." Wuting Yan countered.

"Defiance? You’re an elder of the Wuting Clan—what does that have to do with me, Huayu Ting of the Huayu Family? I’ve already given you an out; don’t push your luck." Huayu Ting said firmly, showing no intention of yielding.

"Fine, then let’s settle this with our hands!" Wuting Yan declared.