Chapter One Hundred and Fifteen: The Design (Part One)

After Zhou Yi finished speaking, the entire crowd fell into a deep silence; not a single person uttered a word. Even Ye Feng cast him a look of astonishment—he could never have imagined that the establishment of the Heavenly King Alliance would bear fruit so swiftly.

From the very inception of the Heavenly King Alliance, one of Ye Feng’s goals had been to transform this group of young prodigies into true masters capable of standing on their own.

“I am truly delighted, genuinely delighted!” Ye Feng nodded repeatedly, a smile gracing his face. At that moment, he brimmed with pride and heartfelt joy, for his efforts had finally been acknowledged.

“I never imagined that in such a short span, your hearts could undergo such a profound transformation. In truth, this mindset is what I have always hoped for you to attain. The path of growth is never easy; some may fall, but those who survive will be the strong—with hearts of invincible warriors.”

Observing the thoughtful expressions across the assembly and the shock etched on the faces of experts like Xiao Ye, Ye Feng smiled inwardly.

Zhou Yi’s words were like a pebble cast into a placid lake, sending ripples radiating outward.

In truth, Ye Feng had initially felt immense pressure. Should the plan fail, not only would his reputation be shattered, but his entire family would suffer grave consequences. From the beginning, there was no turning back; he had stepped onto a road of no return.

“Leader, speak! Whatever the cost, we will follow you!” someone in the crowd lifted their head, eyes resolute.

Ye Feng’s gaze swept slowly over everyone. At that moment, he saw in every face a determination—to become strong.

“Next, I will need everyone’s help,” Ye Feng said, stepping forward deliberately. “The Sacred Land’s forces are stationed at the entrance of the ruins. There are fewer than eighty of them now. That may sound like a lot, but at least twenty will be stationed continuously at the entrance, studying the entrance’s sealing formations.”

He paused briefly before continuing, “That means fewer than sixty can oppose me. If I suddenly appear before them and then turn to flee, those who give chase will certainly be no more than half of them! Our task is to ambush the pursuers with fifty of us and finish the fight quickly.”

As Ye Feng’s words fell, many frowns eased slightly. At this moment, their hearts felt an unexpected relief—facing just over twenty opponents was far more manageable.

“But, Leader, are you certain you can escape from under the watchful eyes of eighty Spirit Emperor experts?”

“Yes, those are eighty Spirit Emperor-level masters.”

At that moment, someone below suddenly spoke up. Ye Feng’s logic was sound, but his choice to face the danger alone was the most perilous and critical move.

Ye Feng waved his hand, signaling for silence, then resumed, “Among the twenty or so pursuers, I will arrange for our experts along the route to ambush and eliminate at least five or six. So the numbers you’ll face will definitely not exceed twenty.”

His eyes met those of Galo and Xiao Ye as he continued, “Never underestimate twenty Spirit Emperor-level experts. In a direct confrontation, under their hands, none of us would last more than fifteen minutes.”

Many had initially dismissed Ye Feng’s words as arrogance, believing he was overestimating others to diminish himself. But what followed was like a basin of cold water poured over the eager young men’s fervent spirits:

“If I employ secret techniques, I can contend with high-level Spirit Emperors. Yet, after more than ten days of continuous battles, though I show no external wounds, my internal injuries are severe. Should this deterioration continue, my life is truly at risk. Moreover, I have never faced more than ten Spirit Emperor experts alone.”

“But brothers, do not lose heart. Listen carefully to what I say next, and once I finish, we will act immediately.”

“Among the twenty pursuers, I will take on the three strongest. Galo will restrain two, Xiao Ye two, and Jin Ming and Sha Mo will each hold one.”

“The remaining eleven—you will form groups of four. By any means necessary, you must hold one opponent fast. If possible, use any despicable trick to kill them. If killing is impossible, then at least prevent your opponent from attacking others!”

...

Night fell. Ye Feng sat by a fire, fingers tracing the cold edge of a broken blade. Beside him, Galo and three others listened as he spoke, “Whether this ambush succeeds depends on you.”

Sha Mo tore into a roasted wild rabbit, swallowing quickly. “I can take two!”

“Eat up, then!” Ye Feng chuckled, giving Sha Mo a playful glare before continuing, “In truth, my speed far surpasses those hunting me. Under normal circumstances, I’m confident I can outpace them until only a dozen or so remain. But their falcons in the sky always track me precisely. No matter how fast I flee, I can’t shake them. So our time is limited!”

“Galo, Xiao Ye, you two will accompany me tomorrow.” After their wild game dinner, the group washed their faces in a forest stream.

Seeing his reflection stained with blood, Ye Feng sighed deeply. After tomorrow, he wondered how many of the Heavenly King Alliance would survive the ordeal.

He felt a pang of guilt. Though he harbored a deep grudge against the Sacred Land, he had drawn so many passionate youths into this fight, many of whom might lose their lives.

“Don’t overthink it,” someone comforted him. “You’re helping them. If they had continued living as before, when the Sacred Land came knocking, they would face slaughter anyway. You’re simply making them face the harsh reality ahead of time.”

At dawn the next day, Ye Feng led the group to a mountain hollow strewn with boulders—dozens could hide there unseen unless searched for deliberately.

Once everyone was hidden, Ye Feng, Galo, and Xiao Ye took to the air, speeding toward the ruins’ entrance.

There, forty or fifty Sacred Land experts gathered, probing various methods to break the sealing formations.

Hundreds of meters away, atop towering ancient trees, many experts lay in silent ambush, their sharp eyes scanning the dense forest.

Even within thorny underbrush, their scouts lurked, ready to detect Ye Feng’s slightest movement.

Crack...

Then, from the thorns, a faint sound emerged.

Immediately, Ye Feng’s brazen voice rang out clearly to all ears: “You sons of turtles from the Sacred Land, not even a hundred of you can catch me! Now you’re hiding here to ambush? What a disgrace! I’m right here—if you’ve got the guts, come and kill me!”