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墨書 Inktalez
In the midst of Jufeng's confusion, Hayamura Shuichi took the tray with both hands as a sign of respect.
From that moment on, Hayamura Shuichi became the Vice Captain of Saint Envoy. He smiled at Ikeda Kenji, who returned the smile.
A weight lifted from his heart. As a prominent figure in the history of the Yamamoto Clan, he was confident that with the cooperation of Vera and Jufeng from this day forward, he would successfully rise to power and replace Yuta Shouroku.
If that happened, he would break a record for the Yamamoto Clan, becoming the youngest president in history.
This was a great honor; however, Ikeda Kenji accepted it all with calmness. Despite the smile on his face, there was an unwavering composure in his expression, like a still lake.
Suddenly, a loud crash echoed through the tower as if a wall had collapsed without warning. At the same time, dust filled the air as one corner of the roof on the third floor shattered and fell to the ground.
This was a building with over a hundred years of history, having undergone countless repairs throughout its long existence. It had weathered storms and lightning yet stood proudly in the valley, steadfastly defending the honor of Saint Envoy. Its structural integrity was evident.
However, just as Hayamura Shuichi had received the honor of Vice Captain, what should have been a solid ceiling between the third and fourth floors crumbled into ruins in an instant. Many present found it hard to accept.
Jufeng felt a sinking sensation in his heart; something had finally happened.
The two Vice Captains immediately turned serious. With their robes billowing in the wind, they transformed into two shooting stars and rushed toward the dust-filled ruins.
The remaining ten Stewards and ordinary Members hurried to the scene in various ways, quickly engulfed by the dust storm.
Hayamura Shuichi intended to join them but first glanced at Ikeda Kenji. After a moment's thought, Ikeda Kenji looked toward Jufeng. Ikeda Masahiro, startled by the sudden collapse, leaned against his brother.
Jufeng shook his head and said loudly, "Brother Yamura has just endured a life-and-death battle; his body is already under immense strain. I believe Saint Envoy will be understanding and compassionate enough to recognize Brother Yamura's condition and reason for not joining the fight."
Jufeng spoke loudly on purpose so that those affiliated with Saint Envoy amidst the gravel and dust nearby could hear him.
The notion of being too exhausted or unable to fight was merely an excuse. Jufeng's intention was clear: he did not want Hayamura Shuichi to get caught up in this turmoil because he sensed something significant was about to happen within Saint Envoy.
It wasn't just due to Li Ji's sudden disappearance; there was also an unsettling familiarity about it that Jufeng could feel. Thus, he had to reserve some strength for unforeseen circumstances.
Once Jufeng finished speaking, Ikeda Kenji nodded. Hayamura Shuichi then slowly relaxed his grip on the throwing knife as they all walked steadily toward the dust cloud.
As they approached, much of the dust had settled. The four discovered that an ancient bookshelf and part of the ceiling had collapsed together, leaving fragments scattered across the ground along with decayed wooden remnants infested with insects.
The previously rushing Holy Envoy Members had vanished without a trace.
Looking up at the two-meter-wide void, Jufeng asked, "Is there any problem bringing people up?"
This question was naturally directed at Hayamura Shuichi. Hayamura glanced at Ikeda Kenji and Ikeda Masahiro, hesitated for a moment, then nodded. He moved to Ikeda Kenji's side, stepped onto the decaying wooden frame, and leaped up to the upper floor. Turning around, he dropped a flying knife down.
Ikeda Kenji caught the knife and wrapped the silver thread around his arm.
With a forceful pull from Hayamura Shuichi, Ikeda Kenji ascended to another floor three meters high.
After the two had gone up, Jufeng looked at Ikeda Masahiro with a rare teasing glint in his eyes, hinting at something more than simple amusement.
Ikeda Masahiro looked up at the floor above and then back at Jufeng, feeling as if he were being toyed with.
"I think I'll take the stairs," he said.
As he turned to walk away, a warm force suddenly embraced him and pulled him back.
"This place is fraught with danger; you never know when a killer might appear. It's safer for you to stay with us."
Jufeng's voice whispered in Ikeda Masahiro's ear, like a watercolor brush painting a blush across a woman's face and the delicate skin of her neck.
Jufeng's right arm wrapped around Ikeda Masahiro's waist, firmly securing him against himself. With two quick strides and a leap, they soared to an impressive height.
However, carrying a burden of about a hundred pounds combined with abdominal pain from the jump affected their altitude; despite being high, it wasn't high enough.
So he settled for less, placing his left hand on the fourth floor's surface. With renewed effort, he and Ikeda Masahiro leaped up to the fourth floor together.
The scene on the fourth floor was markedly different from the other three levels. The A Squad's neatly arranged bookshelves stood tall in the spacious area, each shelf lined with numerous books. Aside from the decaying wood that had fallen from the third floor, everything else appeared quite tidy.
Not far ahead, sounds of fighting reached their ears, accompanied by strong gusts of wind that startled Jufeng.
It was a robust sensation that Romain had not felt in a long time; it reminded him of when he was in Yanhuang City, experiencing that immense energy during sparring sessions with his seniors.
Hayamura Shuichi and Ikeda Kenji had already stepped aside, leaning against a bookshelf, outside the encirclement of the Holy Envoy Members, eagerly watching the situation inside.
Inside, two individuals were engaged in combat. One was an elderly man in a dark robe with a white beard, his face glowing red, appearing vigorous despite his age. The robe bore the emblem of the Eight-Winged Envoy. The other was a middle-aged man whose disheveled appearance was nothing short of shocking, resembling a homeless person who had crawled out of a garbage heap. Yet, his eyes sparkled with intensity, and his movements flowed like water as he fought evenly against the elderly man.
The spectators were all Members of the Saint Envoy; however, for reasons unknown, they did not join the fray. The white-haired elder was clearly the Commander of the Saint Envoy, standing at the pinnacle of this world, yet he fought alone without assistance.
Jufeng arrived at the scene, bringing Ikeda Masahiro to Hayamura Shuichi's side before subtly pushing forward to observe the battle.
This was an extraordinary spectacle; the two combatants were unparalleled, truly opening the eyes of everyone present. Perhaps even the Vice Captain among the Saint Envoy had never witnessed their Commander in action. After all, this Commander had been active for nearly thirty years in the long history of the Saint Envoy.
For thirty years, his unshakable position faced challenges from around the world, yet he remained steadfast and towering; one could only imagine how formidable his strength must be.
However, what was even more astonishing was his opponent—the disheveled middle-aged man—who could hold his own against the Commander in such a vibrant manner. All the Members wore serious expressions because such a person posed a threat to their esteemed honor.
Jufeng watched intently, feeling a surge of emotions within him. He realized that he had previously underestimated things; it wasn't just due to a lack of experience or knowledge but also because he had simplified his view of the Saint Envoy when facing Utada Hikaru.
If the Commander personally took action, it was hard to believe that anyone on Earth could resist his overwhelming power.
Even if one’s heart resisted, their body would still yield.
Moreover, he recalled that Li Ji's earlier words had left some room for interpretation.
In martial arts cultivation reaching its peak, one absorbed the essence contained within the world at a rate far exceeding that of ordinary individuals. Thus, their physical training reached an incredible level—beyond normal comprehension and consciousness.
The collapsed bookshelf and shattered floor illustrated just how explosive their clashes were.
Bookshelves continued to topple and shatter in succession, pages fluttering and scattering like leaves. These were records accumulated by the Saint Envoy about the entire world; it seemed likely that after today, they would be lost forever and would need to be rebuilt from scratch.
“Boom!”
Another violent explosion reverberated through the air, causing the walls to tremble. Dust and debris fell from above like rain onto the torn pages scattered across the floor, giving them an even more historical aura.
Dust settled as shadows emerged, two figures standing opposite each other, gazing from a distance.
The disheveled middle-aged man looked even more unkempt, while the spirited old man had a white beard dusted with grime.
The Commander, whose name was unknown, had become more than just a title over the long course of history; it had formed into a name of its own.
The Commander said, "So many years have passed, yet I didn't expect you to still hold a grudge against me. Can the past not fade away with the passage of time?"
The Slovenly Old Man tossed his long hair with an air of arrogance and then cast a disdainful and contemptuous glance at the old man with the white beard.
He retorted sharply, "Aren't you the one who prides himself on having read many books? Surely you know Bacon's famous saying about studying history? The past is history, and one cannot forget it."
(To be continued)
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