“Alright. Go on back and sit tight.”

Wu Dao’an finally looked over Jiang Yuanhua’s current state with proper attention, then waved a hand.

He called a Demon Suppression Division constable in. “Go fetch a Golden Wolf jade token.”

With that, he turned to Shen Yi. “Since this is an old colleague of yours from Qingzhou, once you’ve taken the token, go open the armory and pick out a vessel for nurturing his soul. As for the grade — whatever you like.”

At that, the man from the Demon Suppression Division’s face lit with open envy.

The armory was where the War Temple kept its collected treasures from across the Nine Provinces — whether Demon Suppression Division or demon-hunter, anyone who brought merit to the capital exchanged it for rewards drawn from that very vault.

Picking freely from any grade wasn’t really anything remarkable — after all, the young man was already the Demon Suppression Division’s Inspector, and this was only a soul-nurturing vessel. He was entitled to at least that much.

What really mattered was being allowed into the armory itself — that represented the War Temple’s trust and high regard.

“Once you’re done with that, bring Shen Yi back to find this old man.”

With that, Wu Dao’an strode off toward the exit — there were still people waiting in the main hall for their refinement, after all.

“This way, please, Inspector.”

A constable serving in the imperial capital naturally knew how to read a room.

He walked briskly ahead a fair distance, then stood waiting respectfully up front, leaving Shen Yi and Jiang Yuanhua some room to talk privately.

“What exactly is going on here…”

Jiang Yuanhua hurried to drift over beside Shen Yi, worry mixed with suspicion in his voice.

“Last time I came to the capital, I got myself registered at the War Temple.”

Today’s turn of events had left Shen Yi a little puzzled himself. He remembered that last time he’d come to the capital, he’d spotted no shortage of figures in the courtyard directly behind the War Temple’s main hall — not exactly crowded, but not rare either.

“Registered disciple, not a true disciple?”

Jiang Yuanhua’s expression shifted slightly. Within the War Temple, being a disciple wasn’t something just anyone could become — to put it bluntly, even Commander Wu himself was only a disciple of the War Temple, nothing more.

This whole group’s cultivation varied wildly, but they all shared one thing in common — every one of them had a genuine shot at breaking through to Spirit-Transformation.

But… Shen Yi was a Mixed Origin Grandmaster?

What he’d advised, originally, was for the two Mixed Origin Grandmasters of Qingzhou to conceal their strength a little, throw the War Temple and the immortal sects off the scent, and steer clear of unnecessary trouble.

He’d never said anything about infiltrating the War Temple itself!

If this ever came to light, the War Temple, which might otherwise have been inclined to look the other way and offer protection, would probably get angry enough to wash its hands of the whole matter entirely.

“Let’s get moving.”

Shen Yi, calm and composed, strolled on ahead.

At last, he could go find some jar to stuff this chatterbox into — the thought left him in an inexplicably better mood.

The Demon Suppression Division constable led the two of them around to the rear of the War Temple.

He hurried off at once to the Demon Suppression Division’s offices, and soon came back carrying a treasure-wood box, lifting the lid to reveal, resting against vivid red cloth, a palm-sized, gold-inlaid jade token shaped into the form of a fierce wolf, exquisitely crafted.

“Please, Commander Shen, take hold of the token.”

The constable held the box out with both hands, respectfully.

Shen Yi reached out and took it into his palm — smooth and warm to the touch, carrying a faint thread of heat.

In the next instant, his entire field of vision was abruptly overwhelmed by a vast, sky-spanning white mist.

Calling it mist almost didn’t do it justice — it was thick as cotton wool, fine as silk thread, as though it might condense into solid substance at any moment.

This was the Demon Suppression Division’s own share of the accumulated faith Great Qian had gathered, unbroken, since the founding of the dynasty itself, right up to the present day.

And yet, since the post of Inspector was meant to be filled by a Mixed Origin Grandmaster, this particular share had really, all along, been set aside for a War Temple disciple.

“Hah.”

Shen Yi tightened his grip on the jade token, just slightly.

Accustomed as he was to the Demon Suppression Division’s rule of work-first-eat-later, he hadn’t expected things to go this smoothly at all.

This, he supposed, was the real difference between an imperial court and a proper sect.

The former needed rules to hold the Nine Provinces together, seeking stability above all else.

The War Temple, by contrast, was closer to a true sect — what it wanted was to break through the ceiling entirely.

“Commander Shen, this token will open the armory for you… the armory is right there before you. If there’s nothing else, this lowly one will take his leave.”

The constable left at once, without the slightest reluctance, and was quickly gone.

The armory was not a place someone of his standing was meant to so much as glance into.

“Right there before me?”

Standing behind the War Temple, Shen Yi looked at the tall, broad relief wall before him, carved with thirteen towering figures, each in a different pose and bearing a different face — none other than the thirteen Spirit-Transformation cultivators once enshrined here.

He tried reaching out with his spiritual sense to touch the Golden Wolf jade token.

In an instant, it was as though some vast, invisible lock had sprung open.

A staircase paved in gold and jade abruptly appeared before him, stretching straight downward.

An illusory formation?

Shen Yi had seen something similar once before, at Peacock Valley, but the formation there had never actually stopped anything — it was just a trick of the eye, the kind you could force your way through with a single outstretched hand.

But the relief wall before him now was clearly something else entirely.

The instant he’d drawn close earlier, his body had already, on pure instinct, flagged the danger.

Considering that his cultivation now stood at the Mixed Origin realm, on top of a body-refinement method tempered through subduing two demon kings, for something to register to him as an insurmountable danger meant the formation’s power was beyond easy imagining.

“This was built a very long time ago — the War Temple brought in a great clan from outside, famed for their formation craft, to construct it. You won’t find a second one like it anywhere in all of Great Qian.”

It was Jiang Yuanhua’s first time at the armory too, but as a General, he’d at least heard talk of these things before.

“The thing that clan was most famous for was trapping and killing a Spirit-Transformation Perfected Master of Xuanguang Cave alive, using nothing but their formation arts — and then using formations again to hide their entire clan away afterward… to this day, Xuanguang Cave still hasn’t managed to even the score.”

The three-sect alliance and the Thousand Demon Den might be the two greatest powers, but that didn’t mean they were the only powers out there.

There were countless small kingdoms, scattered sects, and even on the demon side, factions like Qingqiu.

At that, Shen Yi quietly filed the thought away.

A formidable Mixed Origin path infant, a body tempered savage through demon blood — these were his own strengths. But things like formation arts, alchemy, and artifact-forging, however roundabout, weren’t anything to be looked down on either.

He set off down the long staircase of gold and jade.

Jiang Yuanhua followed close behind, peering around just as curiously.

Until they met a pair of ancient eyes.

An old man, his body withered down to little more than a layer of skin stretched over bone, sat quietly at a wooden table by the wall. He glanced over the two of them, noticed the jade token in Shen Yi’s hand, gave a small nod, and looked away again.

Another upper-tier Martial Immortal.

Jiang Yuanhua’s divine spirit instinctively dodged the man’s glance, hurrying to follow Shen Yi further inside.

What met their eyes was a magnificent golden hall, divided into many side chambers, each one with someone standing watch before it.

Shen Yi gave a quiet, internal sigh of regret.

He hadn’t been thinking of anything in particular — he’d just wanted to take a look, maybe browse through whatever Mixed Origin techniques the War Temple had accumulated over the years.

Still, with his new identity as Inspector, there’d be plenty of chances down the line. No need to rush it right this moment.

“What do you need?”

An old man, looking somewhat more ordinary than the rest, came walking over.

“A vessel for nurturing a soul.” Shen Yi gave a polite nod.

“What grade?” the old man asked again.

“Let him pick it out himself.” With that, Shen Yi turned to look elsewhere, and soon spotted the side chambers belonging to various categories — treasure artifacts, elixirs, techniques and the like.

A sudden warmth rose in Jiang Yuanhua’s chest. No wonder the man was a Mixed Origin Grandmaster — if he was honest with himself, as a province’s General, he’d never even noticed a prodigy like this serving right under his own office, let alone offered him any kind of help.

Anyone else, clawing their way up through an environment as harsh as the Demon Suppression Division, would have carried at least some resentment for it.

And yet he’d never once seen Shen Yi show him the faintest trace of ill will…

Well — no particular fondness either, granted. Mostly, he’d just been ignored.

“My thanks, Commander Shen.”

Jiang Yuanhua cupped his fists once more, offering a sincere word of thanks, before following the old man off toward another section.

Nurturing a soul within a vessel was a tedious, dreary business.

He might be stuck there for hundreds, even thousands of years… but at least, his life would no longer be in danger.

(End of Chapter)