Volume 4: Super-Tier Awakening & The Ancient Capital Calamity
Chapter 392
Rest & Recuperation in the Ancient Capital
The golden autumn afternoon sun cast a warm, tranquil glow over the moss-covered, ancient grey brick walls of the Ancient Capital, draping the city in an air of solemn and majestic serenity. Countless ages had passed, bearing witness to the rise and fall of dynasties, enduring innumerable savage conflicts between humanity and monstrous fiends. Yet, the Ancient Capital still stood immovable, an immortal monument of history. Today, however, the atmosphere enveloping the vast metropolis was entirely devoid of the suffocating tension of blaring war sirens, the acrid, burning stench of fluorescent magic stones, or the heavy, nauseating reek of blood as hordes of undead shrieked in the shroud of night.
Instead, a rare, profound peace settled over the land, deep enough to stir a bittersweet sense of nostalgia.
Following days of life-and-death struggle amidst the billowing dust and ash of the battlefield, standing face-to-face against terrifying monarch-level fiends and earth-shattering undead tides, Lin Feng and his comrades finally found a moment to unburden their minds. The dazzling honor ceremonies hosted by the Magic Association and the Ancient Capital’s Military Command had drawn to a close, culminating in prestigious medals and resounding praises that echoed across the five continents. Yet, for Lin Feng, the pinnacle of glory and absolute authority could never compare to the simple luxury of shedding heavy combat armor, casting off the heavy burden of saving the world, and taking slow, unhurried steps through ordinary life.
The narrow alley paved with glossy bluestone overflowed with the rustic aroma of kitchen smoke and unpretentious local delicacies. A gentle autumn breeze swept through, carrying a crisp early-season chill that was invigorating as it drifted across the lazy, drifting grey clouds in the vast sky.
Lin Feng wore a simple grey woolen coat, his hands buried deep in his pockets as he strolled leisurely. Walking beside him was Mu Ningxue. The young maiden possessed a peerless, ethereal beauty reminiscent of a celestial fairy descending to the mortal realm, her long, silky dark hair cascading gracefully over her slender shoulders. Even without elaborate, dazzling magical gowns, clad only in a white turtleneck sweater and a light grey cashmere scarf, she commanded admiring, captivated gazes from anyone who happened to glance her way. On his other side, Tang Yue carried an astute, sharp phoenix-like gaze that was softened by immense gentleness, her youthful, dynamic everyday attire swaying gracefully as she occasionally reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair blown by the wind.
“Little Feng, ever since we stepped onto the path of magic, this feels like the rare time we can leisurely stroll down the street without constantly worrying about a sudden dark gleam or a fiendish claw descending upon our backs,” Tang Yue smiled, the corners of her eyes curving into an alluring arc. As she spoke, she gestured toward a small roadside food cart billowing with thick white steam. Beside the cart sat a glowing charcoal brazier, and upon the wire grill rested minced meat-stuffed flatbreads marinated in rich spices, sizzling delightfully.
“Authentic Ancient Capital Roujiamo. Look at that golden, crispy, oil-brushed crust—don’t you want to taste one?”
Lin Feng chuckled, his gaze lingering on the delicate face of the former instructor, which glowed with eager anticipation. He nodded:
“Naturally. After all those ferocious battles, my stomach has been protesting for a long time. Today, I must thoroughly satisfy it.”
They paused at a small roadside eatery. The proprietor was an elderly man with white hair and a beard, who recognized the familiar cadence of an Ancient Capital native’s voice the moment he looked up. Upon recognizing Lin Feng’s face—the young hero who had just saved the entire city from an undead calamity—the old man’s hands trembled violently, his eyes welling with profound emotion:
“You... You are Lord Lin... Lord Magic God! Oh heavens, I can hardly believe you would grace this humble little shop...”
Lin Feng quickly stepped forward to support the old man’s elbow, his voice warm and devoid of arrogance:
“Elder, please don’t call me any ‘lord.’ Today, I’m just an ordinary customer passing by who smelled the delicious aroma of meat sandwiches and Biang Biang noodles, so I decided to drop in. Please give us three portions of crispy meat sandwiches and two bowls of extra-spicy noodles.”
“Yes, yes! Coming right up! Wait just a moment, I’ll make sure it’s the absolute finest for you!”
The old man beamed, his hands moving with practiced agility as he sliced meat, kneaded dough, and tossed long ribbons of noodles into a boiling pot of water. The rhythmic thumping sound of dough slapping against the wooden counter echoed through the ancient streets, harmonizing with the lively chatter of passersby.
Before long, the piping hot Roujiamo were served. Their crispy outer crusts shattered into flaky crumbs upon the first bite, revealing a filling of slow-braised pork belly infused with aromatic herbs and savory juices. Following close behind were bowls of broad Biang Biang noodles, topped generously with scallions, fragrant stir-fried chili flakes, and a ladle of scorching hot oil poured directly over them, releasing a sizzle that awakened every single taste bud.
Mu Ningxue nibbled on a small piece of the flatbread. The crispy crunch of the crust blended perfectly with the rich, melt-in-your-mouth sweetness of the braised meat, causing her delicate brows to relax as she broke into a radiant smile like snow blossoms meeting spring wind. She looked up at Lin Feng, her clear eyes reflecting the warm golden glow of the modest shop:
“This is really delicious. Who would have thought that amidst the hustle and bustle of the mortal world or the blood-soaked battlefields, such simple yet profound flavors could exist.”
“That is the taste of life, Ningxue.” Lin Feng reached out, gently wiping away a speck of seasoning from the corner of Mu Ningxue’s smooth lips—a natural gesture overflowing with pampering and deep affection.
Seeing this, Tang Yue let out a soft giggle from the side, deliberately teasing:
“Aiya, you two are constantly publicly flaunting your affection like this? Have you considered the feelings of a single teacher like me?”
“Teacher Tang, if you’re envious, you can just find some high-ranking Magic Association elder and drag him back to marry you. What’s so difficult about that?” Mu Ningxue’s cheeks flushed red, but she playfully retorted without missing a beat.
The three of them burst into cheerful laughter. Their merriment echoed through the tranquil autumn afternoon, completely banishing the chilling aura of death that had once shrouded this place. They ate, chatted about trivial everyday matters, and completely cast aside titles like Supreme Mage, Alliance Leader, or the intricate conspiracies of dark forces lurking beyond. In this fleeting moment, they were simply human beings enjoying a hard-won peace bought with blood and sweat.
Meanwhile, deep within a historic district inside a traditional ancient tea house, the atmosphere possessed a different hue—vibrant, enthusiastic, yet equally nostalgic.
Xie Zhaoyuan wore sporty casual attire, sitting cross-legged in a woven rattan chair with a steaming pot of Pu’er tea before him. Surrounding the tea table were familiar young faces who had shared life-and-death struggles across countless campaigns: Zhang Xiaohou with his signature breezy smile, Mo Fan (who had just barely dragged himself back from some magical archaeological expedition to join them), and Zhao Manyan, flashing his usual flamboyant demeanor while fanning himself with a feather fan in a mock display of scholarly elegance.
“Damn it! Let me tell you, back when we first stepped into Mount Tian or set foot in the Ancient Capital’s Underworld, even in my wildest dreams I never imagined I’d be sitting here drinking tea this leisurely!” Zhao Manyan tilted his head back to finish his cup of tea in one gulp, clicking his tongue in amazement. “Do you guys remember when we faced off against those Undead Monarchs? My legs were shaking so hard back then, I was terrified one of their stomps would squash this playboy’s life flat!”
Zhang Xiaohou laughed heartily, slapping his thigh:
“Young Master Zhao, stop bragging. Who was the first one running away when the Zombie Overlord let out that roar? If Lord Lin hadn’t stepped in to rescue us in the nick of time, your bones would have grown moss three feet deep underground by now!”
“Hey, hey, little monkey, don’t you go exposing my shortcomings in front of my brothers!” Zhao Manyan feigned a glare, but quickly burst into laughter himself. “Still, looking at it now, that monster Lin Feng’s strength is truly getting less and less human. Peak Super-Tier? Or has he already touched the true Forbidden Curse threshold? I feel like he only needs to snap his fingers and heaven and earth will invert. Even if we run ourselves ragged trying to catch up for the rest of our lives, we won’t even reach the hem of his robe.”
Mo Fan smirked, a fierce yet deeply respectful fighting spirit flashing in his eyes:
“You think I don’t want to surpass him? But that freak seems to have been favored by the heavens since birth, gifted with an aptitude that shatters every physical and magical law. No matter how many soul remnants I desperately devour or how many magic elements I master, the gap between him and me remains vast. He saves the world, and we just stand behind him clapping and enjoying the peace—come to think of it, that’s not a bad deal either.”
Xie Zhaoyuan smiled as he raised his teacup, gazing out at the courtyard strewn with falling golden leaves beyond the window:
“We are much luckier than many others. There were those who fell before the city gates, and comrades who remain forever buried in the Northern Wilderness or muddy wastes. The simple happiness we hold today... was traded for the blood and lives of countless souls. That is why I cherish it now more than ever.”
As Xie Zhaoyuan’s words faded, the tea table fell into a brief silence. Each of them recalled familiar faces who had once stood shoulder to shoulder with them, now reduced to portraits or memories. Yet, that stillness carried no sorrow; rather, it formed an underlying strength connecting souls forged in the fires of mortality.
As night fell and the pale silver moon hung listlessly over the mossy tiled roofs of the Ancient Capital, Lin Feng walked alone along the lengthy stretch of the ancient city wall. The roaring night wind whipped his coat tails, carrying the chilling breath of earth and sky, yet his heart remained utterly tranquil.
He stood at the highest point of the ancient fortress, sweeping his gaze across the vast expanse of the Ancient Capital spanning tens of thousands of square miles. Down below, millions of lights from residential districts and bustling streets glowed brilliantly like stars scattered across the earth. The laughter of playing children, the calls of adults gathering for dinner, the distant tolling of bells from a millennium-old temple... All of it wove together into an ordinary, deeply warm, and authentic symphony of life.
Lin Feng raised his right hand slightly, clenching it into a fist. Within his spiritual Dantian, boundless magical energy continued to circulate rhythmically like a miniature flowing galaxy. His current peak Super-Tier realm granted him the power to obliterate an entire nation in the blink of an eye, yet simultaneously placed heavier responsibilities upon his shoulders.
The storms outside had never truly ceased. The Southern Sea Demon Empire was stirring, mysterious dark forces lurking in the shadows of the world were still eyeing this land, and unsolved mysteries regarding the origin of primordial magic awaited his exploration.
Yet before the new tempest officially struck, he needed to complete the final transformation of his state of mind and cultivation.
Lin Feng drew a deep breath of the crisp autumn night air in the Ancient Capital, a resolute gleam flashing in his eyes.
“It’s time... to enter seclusion.”
He murmured to himself, turning his steps back toward the quiet residence in the rear courtyard, preparing for a complete metamorphosis before plunging into the next heaven-shaking war.