Teacher by day, Farmer by passion - Chapter 236

Chapter 236: Capital Crisis [4] (NEW!)
The old man slowly sheathed his sword, expression grim.

“Oh boy… I didn’t expect to run into a Legend Rank today. Looks like my luck’s run dry. Retreat, boys!”

He turned to leave but a chilling laugh rolled through the air like distant thunder.

“Ha ha ha… ha ha ha ha… Oh you foolish mortal.”

Yu Zhong’s voice cracked through the battlefield, carrying an ancient weight.

In a flash, he vanished, only to reappear before the fleeing men.

Before anyone could react, one by one, the old man’s subordinates collapsed, unconscious… or worse.

Their bodies hit the ground like sacks of stone, kicked aside by fate.

The old man’s eyes widened in disbelief. His hand flew back to his sword, grip tightening with a trembling fury.

“Young man,” he muttered through clenched teeth, “ever heard the saying, a cornered rat bites back?”

Yu Zhong stepped forward slowly, smiling like winter’s chill. “You and your proverbs. I couldn’t care less.”

As those words left his lips, the old man raised his sword in a flash of desperate defiance.

“I… I serve the First Prince!” he barked, voice cracking. “Touch me, and you invite the wrath of the throne!”

Yu Zhong’s eyes narrowed with amusement.

“Tell him to send flowers to your grave, then.”

Crack.

The sword splintered in the old man’s grasp, fragments scattering like broken pride.

Yu Zhong’s hand came down gently on the man’s shoulder.

“Tell me, old man… did you really think you could keep up with my speed?”

Silence. Even the wind dared not move.

Around them, the battlefield froze.

Ace stared, jaw clenched. If it comes down to it… I’ll have to call Liu Mei.

I know it’s shameful… but what is shame if it means living another day?

Yu Zhong didn’t even glance his way.

“Xiao Zhi, I’ll spare you,” he said casually. “Take your boy toy and get lost.”

Ace’s eye twitched. Boy toy? Seriously?

“…Oh well. Liu Mei, I summon you.”

WHAM.

A burst of light slammed into the earth, sending cracks spidering through the dirt.

Liu Mei landed in a crouch, eyes sharp, spiritual energy brimming with power.

And in her hand was a greasy skewer of roasted meat, sauce dripping down her wrist.

She blinked at the battlefield, then at Ace. “Huh? Where?”

Ace just stared at her, dumbfounded.

“Wait… you’re still eating?! Didn’t you eat tons of meat just a while ago?!”

Liu Mei tilted her head, mouth full. She held up the half-eaten pork like a peace offering. “Want a bite, Master?”

Ace opened his mouth, then shut it, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Forget it. Just get ready to fight.”

Liu Mei sighed, stuffed the last of the meat into her mouth, and muttered, “I’ll tell my mother you’re bullying me.”

Watching the new visitor who appeared out of thin air, Yu Zhong muttered, “Fair enough… So that’s why they call you the Son of Fate.”

And then—snap.

Without another word, he shattered the old man in half like a brittle twig, bones crunching, flesh tearing.

A moment later, he vanished, as if he’d never been there.

The silence that followed was broken only by the soft slurp of Liu Mei licking her fingers clean.

“Master, should I give chase?”

Ace studied the ruined earth, then slowly shook his head. “No… you’ve done enough.”

“I see.” She nodded thoughtfully. “But Master, you summoned me in the middle of a meal. Can you send me back?”

Ace opened his mouth to reply—

“I mean, my mother’s going to worry if I vanish like that again. You know how she gets.” Liu Mei added hastily.

Ace sighed, lips twitching with a ghost of a smile. “Alright, alright. Go. Enjoy your food.”

Her face lit up. “Thank you~!”

And just like that, she vanished, humming a tune like she was skipping home from a picnic.

Milson watched her leave, equal parts awe and confusion. “That… is that what I think it is?”

“Pokimon,” Ace muttered.

“Poki—what now?”

He ignored him. His gaze sharpened. “Where is it? The fragment. Where’s what I was promised?”

Milson scrambled to open his storage ring. A glimmer of dull light, and he pulled out—

—A sickle. Rusted. Weathered. The kind you’d expect in the hands of a farmer nearing his final season.

“…This? Are you joking?”

“N-No, Master Ace! This is the shard. I swear it on my name!”

Ace raised a brow, then chuckled. “Hah. I thought it’d be something grand. Can’t blame me.”

He turned, flexing his legs to leap away.

“Wait!” Milson called out, desperation raw. “Wait, Master Ace!”

Ace paused mid-motion. “…What is it?”

“Your followers—Xie Ninger and Yuu—they’re being held by the First Prince. In the palace. Won’t you… won’t you save them?”

The air turned still.

Ace didn’t respond at first. Then quietly: “…Can you do it?”

Milson lowered his eyes. “No. We can’t.”

A shadow flickered across Ace’s expression. His fists clenched slightly, but he said nothing.

Milson stepped forward, voice firming. “But we’ll help. We’ll put our lives on the line.”

Ace turned to face them fully. His gaze was quiet but something dangerous simmered just beneath the surface.

“Easier said than done,” he murmured. “I want to refine a few Blood Corpse. Who’s volunteering?”

A wave of dread swept through the crowd.

Everyone knew what it meant to become a blood corpse. No will. No soul. Just a puppet powered by blood.

No one moved.

Then—

“…I’m willing,” someone whispered.

“…I’m willing,” another echoed.

One by one, hands rose. Even Milson lifted his, fingers trembling.

Ace studied them.

After a long moment, he spoke. “Exactly who’s being held captive?”

Milson hesitated. “…Princess Soho. She’s also a prisoner.”

Ace tilted his head slightly. His gaze swept across the sea of determined, fearful faces.

“What a bunch of loyal fools,” he murmured.

Then he smiled. Calm. Amused.

“Don’t go labeling me a blood alchemist just yet. I was only testing your resolve.”

A collective breath of relief surged through the crowd.

Ace cracked his neck, eyes already fixed on the horizon.

“Well then… let’s go storm ourselves a kingdom, shall we?”