"How about now?" Henry Collins glanced cautiously at Owen Fletcher, still somewhat wary, but his eyes sparkled with excitement. "Did it work? Is this body now the City Lord's puppet? If it worked, that's a real gain. Puppets are always loyal and obedient, never questioning orders."

Owen Fletcher shot Henry Collins a cold look.

Logan Barrett was about to explain that this wasn't a puppet, but before he could speak, a cacophony erupted throughout the entire Canglang Northern Territory, the ground shaking and mountains trembling.

The white jade coffin where Owen Fletcher had once rested was shattered to pieces. The giant trees swayed endlessly, the wasteland split open with massive cracks, sharp stones rained down from above, and the noise grew nearly deafening.

"This Canglang Northern Territory seems to be at its end, it's really going to collapse!" the subordinates shouted.

Boulders fell like rain, and they were still on the thirty-third level—getting out was nearly impossible.

"City Lord—"

The subordinates called out, but were separated, scattered to unknown distances, their voices fading, their fates uncertain.

A massive cliff, origin unknown, came crashing down. The base of the cliff was several zhang deep, sharp as a sword's tip. If it struck a mortal, it would pierce straight through their skull, killing them instantly.

And the person beneath that cliff was Logan Barrett.

The ground where he stood was also collapsing, leaving only a stubborn boulder, isolated on all sides. He stood atop it like a wisp of green mist, and at the very brink of death, he looked up at the cliff's point.

In the next instant, countless golden longswords suddenly appeared, each inscribed with the character "免" (exempt), enveloping him completely.

He couldn't see anything, but he felt someone had shielded him.

***

The collapse of the Canglang Northern Territory triggered a massive quake in the Wudan Sea.

While the disciples of the hundred immortal sects scrambled to respond, an unremarkable black-sailed boat was quietly making its way along the Bosuo Path at the edge of the Wudan Sea.

Logan Barrett hugged a hand warmer, leaning silently in the corner of the boat's canopy.

A paper lantern hung from the canopy, swaying gently in the wind, its long, thin flame never quite touching the lantern's wall.

Those few subordinates had been separated during the destruction of the Canglang Northern Territory; only Henry Collins and the one-armed subordinate had been close enough to be pulled onto the boat together.

The one-armed man, having suffered greatly, fell into a deep sleep as soon as he boarded. Henry Collins, on the other hand, was still full of energy, chattering nonstop.

He wrung out the hem of his robe, wet from the water outside, then rubbed his hands together and entered the canopy to report to Logan Barrett: "We're about to reach Bailu Ford, City Lord. Did you hear it just now? The thunder over the Wudan Sea's Snow Pool—what a deafening blast."

Logan Barrett honestly didn't understand what he was so happy about.

Fortunately, Henry Collins was talkative enough to explain himself: "Shows just how far the Canglang Northern Territory's collapse reached. Those immortal sect disciples surrounding the place must be in a sorry state. Just thinking about their misery makes me happy."

"Think about them, then look at us—" He glanced at the person sitting across from Logan Barrett. "By rights, the Canglang Northern Territory is a one-way trip. But who would've thought, we have a magical artifact."

"It's all thanks to the City Lord, knowing to turn the body of the Celestial Lord Tiansu into a puppet. Who could know the way out of the Canglang Northern Territory better than him? The rumors were true—this puppet really is absolutely loyal and obedient."

"Good thing the real Celestial Lord Tiansu is already dead. If he knew in the afterlife that the body he left behind to guard the Canglang Northern Territory would one day save the demon lord of Zhaoye City, that would really be... tsk tsk tsk."

No need for the afterlife—he's watching you babble right now.

Logan Barrett thought to himself.

He was enjoying the spectacle, listening with great interest, and openly glancing across the boat.

There sat Owen Fletcher, broad-shouldered and narrow-waisted, sword in arms, leaning against the canopy, expressionless as he watched Henry Collins go "tsk tsk tsk," his eyes practically spelling out six big words—Why are you still alive?

If looks could kill, Henry Collins's head would be gone.

Logan Barrett watched the Celestial Lord Tiansu's indescribable expression for a while, then couldn't help but hug his hand warmer and laugh.

Henry Collins was startled into silence by reflex.

Hearing the laughter, Owen Fletcher turned as well.

When he looked at Logan Barrett, his gaze fell from beneath his thin eyelids, reflecting the faint glow of the lantern.

After a moment, he turned his eyes back outside the boat, at a loss for words... and continued pretending to be a puppet.

Back in the Canglang Northern Territory, when Henry Collins was spouting nonsense, he could still put him in his place.

But now, he had truly carried a demon lord out with him, and in front of outsiders, could only keep up the puppet act.

"City Lord, Zhaoye City has expanded again—we've even taken in the old Langzhou and Great Sorrow Valley. Once we pass through Bailu Ford and land to the west, we'll be in the city."

As the night deepened and the dew grew heavy, Henry Collins yawned, and before long, joined the one-armed man in sleep, snoring thunderously.

What he didn't know was that he'd barely closed his eyes when the "puppet" he spoke of opened his golden mouth.

"When the cliff was falling, why didn't you dodge?" Owen Fletcher withdrew his gaze from outside the boat and asked in a deep voice.

Logan Barrett, who had been dozing off with his hand warmer, opened his eyes at the question.

Sleepiness lingered in his eyes as he stared at Owen Fletcher for a while before responding lazily, "How was I supposed to dodge?"

"There was no way out on either side, and I'm not a monster—I don't have three heads and six arms. I told you, I'm just an ordinary person, but you just won't believe it." He slowly closed his eyes again, mumbling as he spoke.

He looked as if he had already fallen asleep. After a long while, he suddenly murmured, "Owen Fletcher."