Chương 212: A Quiet Harbor

The familiar, tranquil atmosphere of the Green Mountain Sect was a soothing balm to Li Yu's spirit every time he returned home. The clamor and vibrant energy of Verdant City, the tension of the competition, and the underlying currents of conspiracy he had sensed in the north all felt like a distant dream.

Here, in his private pagoda overlooking the dark, deep waters of the menagerie, there was only the quiet hum of powerful formations, the occasional deep thrum of a great beast shifting in the depths below, and the clean, crisp air of the mountains. This was his sanctuary, his quiet harbor, and after the long journey, he was content to simply rest at anchor. The days settled into a peaceful, predictable rhythm, a welcome monotony after constant travel and discovery.

His mornings were often spent on the highest balcony of his pagoda, a simple cup of tea steaming in his hands. From this vantage point, he had a perfect view of the entire Deep Water Menagerie. He would watch the powerful demonic beasts that were the pride of the sect swim in the massive, interconnected pools. A Rank 4 Horned Sea Serpent would chase a school of Swift-fin Fish in a playful, lazy loop.

A colossal, ancient Stone-Carapace Turtle, its shell like a small island, would surface to bask in the morning sun, its wise, old eyes blinking slowly. These creatures, a source of immense pride and wealth for the sect, were like his neighbors. They were powerful, territorial, and occasionally prone to squabbles. One morning, a dispute broke out between the Horned Sea Serpent and a newly introduced, aggressive Deep-Water Tiger Shark over a particularly comfortable grotto.

The water churned as their powerful bodies collided, sending waves crashing against the edges of the pool. The sect disciples tasked with feeding and caretaking looked on with anxious expressions, powerless to intervene in a battle between two Foundation Establishment-level beasts. Li Yu, from his balcony, simply took a sip of his tea. He didn't move, he didn't shout. He just let a minuscule, almost imperceptible sliver of his true aura drift down from the pagoda and settle over the water.

It was not a threatening pressure, but a calm, absolute, and ancient presence. In the pool below, the two battling beasts froze mid-lunge. The primal rage in their eyes was instantly extinguished, replaced by a deep, instinctual awe and a hint of confusion. They looked around, then up towards the pagoda, sensing the source of the profound authority that had just washed over them. It was the presence of the apex, the absolute sovereign of the waters.

The Tiger Shark, its aggression completely gone, gave a flick of its tail and swam away to a different part of the pool. The Horned Sea Serpent, now the uncontested owner of the grotto, simply sank beneath the surface with a newfound sense of peace. The caretakers blinked, utterly baffled by the sudden, inexplicable end to the conflict. His life was not one of complete solitude. While his status had changed, he had not forgotten the people around him.

One afternoon, he left the quiet grandeur of his pagoda and made his way down the stone paths that wound between the massive pools. He found them at their usual spot: a large, round stone table near the main feeding platform that they had claimed as their own unofficial break area. The four of them were already there, a pot of cheap but strong wine in the center. Uncle Wei, his beard a little older but his back still as straight as a spear, was meticulously inspecting a fishing lure.

Brother Kai, his muscular arms seeming to strain the fabric of his robes, was loudly recounting an exaggerated story. Nearby, the ever-curious Hu Jian was examining a strange, glowing scale he had found, while the quiet and steady Lin Tao was methodically cleaning a set of beast-handling tools.

"Boss!" Brother Kai's booming voice cut through the noise the moment he spotted him.

"You're back! We heard you went off to see some pill competition. Did you bring us back anything good?" The familiar, friendly nickname instantly brought a smile to Li Yu's face. Uncle Wei turned, his stern expression softening into a rare, genuine grin. Hu Jian and Lin Tao looked up, their faces breaking into welcoming smiles as they made room for him at the table.

"Brat. You keep coming and going. Don't think that just because you're some hotshot now you can avoid your turn buying the wine," Uncle Wei grumbled, though his eyes were warm as he pushed a clean cup towards Li Yu. Here, he was not a Senior Brother. Here, he was just Li Yu, their boss technically, but more than that their friend. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

"I think I can still afford a round," Li Yu chuckled, settling into the familiar, comfortable atmosphere. He spent the next hour with them, not as a powerful cultivator, but as an old friend. He poured wine, listened to Brother Kai's embellished tale of wrestling a stubborn squid, and heard Uncle Wei's detailed report on the health of the beasts. Hu Jian excitedly showed him the glowing scale, speculating wildly about what kind of deep-sea fish it might have come from.

Lin Tao, in his quiet way, informed him that the Thunder-scale Eels were getting aggressive again and might need to be moved to a more isolated pool. They didn't ask about his grand adventures or his cultivation. They themselves were growing too but the speed wasn't comparable at all but in their own way, they were moving forward step by step. They talked about the rumors of a new, pretty disciple in the outer sect, the rising cost of high-grade fish feed, and the simple, everyday life of the menagerie.

It was grounding, a precious connection to his past and a reminder of the friendships that had supported him from the beginning. Later in the day, his social circle would shift. Han Jian, the sect heir, made his way to the menagerie. The two would sit on the pagoda's lower deck, sharing a pot of high-grade spirit tea and speaking of current events.

"I received a report from one of our sect's merchants in the east," Han Jian said, his expression thoughtful.

"The Pale Orchid Clan has been inundated with requests like we thought." Li Yu nodded in agreement. The conversation was easy, the friendship between them having grown. They spoke of the shifting power dynamics between the alchemy sects, of the quiet movements of the Boreal Empire, and of the increasing influence of the Golden Shell Guild in several regions, a topic on which Han Jian always gave Li Yu a knowing, curious look. When night fell, the social world vanished, and the true work continued.

The peace of the day gave way to the profound, silent focus of cultivation. Li Yu would retire to the highest chamber of his pagoda. His first practice was always the Void Step. It was a technique of pure, untraceable movement. He would stand on the eastern balcony, his eyes focused on the western balcony on the far side of the pagoda. He would close his eyes, his spiritual sense reaching out into the chilling, empty space between spaces—the void.

He would find his destination, lock onto its coordinates in his mind, and then take a single, simple step forward. For an instant, his body would seem to distort, the space around him warping. Then, he would simply vanish. A heartbeat later, he would reappear on the western balcony, the transition as seamless and silent as a thought. He could feel the improvement. He went outside, standing at the edge of the menagerie, and focused on a massive, ancient willow tree on the far side, nearly half a mile away.

He gathered his Koi and Void Qi, felt the familiar, chilling touch of the void, and stepped forward. He reappeared instantly at the base of the willow tree. The translocation was a success, but the cost was immense. A single, half-mile jump had consumed a lot of energy. He was pondering its usage. This was not a technique for long-distance travel, not yet anyway. His own natural flight speed, while slower, was infinitely more efficient. The Void Step was an emergency tool.

It was for escaping an inescapable trap, for bypassing an impenetrable fortress, for a single, decisive assassination or a life-saving retreat. It was a technique to be mastered, but used sparingly at the moment. After recovering his energy, he would move on to the second, more profound aspect of his nightly practice: his soul. He would sit in the lotus position, and the world would fall away. He would focus inward, past his dantian, past his meridians, to the sea of consciousness in his mind.

There, he would commune with his nascent soul. The last time it had flown free, its sheer presence had caused chaos for his retainers. Projecting it outwards was not a practice he could do here and he still couldn't project it outward like that ever since that time. Instead, his practice was internal. First, he would merge the leviathan soul with his body. He would focus his will, and the ethereal, sleeping creature in his mind would seem to sink into his physical form.

His physical strength, already monstrous, became more powerful. His senses became sharper. His control over his Koi Qi became absolute, as if the energy itself was a direct extension of his thoughts. It was an incredible, exhilarating state of power, but also draining. He could only maintain it for a while before soul-deep exhaustion began to set in. It was a powerful combat form, but one that came with a strict time limit for now. His practice then moved to the Leviathan Heart Sutra.

Then he worked on his three soul techniques, further trying to increase the control over his leviathan soul. This was his routine. The peaceful days of friendship and quiet observation, the intense nights of pushing his most powerful and esoteric techniques to their limits. He grew stronger with the slow, steady, and unstoppable momentum of a rising tide. He was content. The world outside, with its conspiracies and its politics, was a distant storm.

He was safe and at peace in his quiet harbor, mastering the powers of the abyss, and for now, that was all that mattered. He was completely unaware that on the long road south from the Boreal Empire, the first waves of that distant storm were about to crash upon the shores of his most trusted retainers.