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Chapter 354: Depressed Boundless Saint

Depressed Boundless Saint . . .

Amidst the relentless chase, Cha Eun Xiao skillfully appeared to have the upper hand. His actions exuded an air of nonchalance, as though he was effortlessly toying with his pursuers. He even resorted to creating sounds to distract and demoralize the enemies, and all the while, he maintained an aura of unwavering confidence.

However, unbeknownst to the onlookers, Cha Eun Xiao was depleting his reserves of power in this high-stakes ruse. The appearance of ease masked the undeniable reality of his exhaustion.

By the time he reached the vicinity of the royal house, Cha Eun Xiao was utterly spent. With every ounce of energy expended, he swiftly sought refuge, desperate to evade the relentless pursuit that had pushed him to the brink of his capabilities.

In the aftermath of this exhilarating chase, Cha Eun Xiao found himself acutely aware of the chasm between the third level and the ninth level of the Sky Origin Stage. He had been brimming with pride while employing the One Laughter in Skyline technique, yet he had not anticipated being driven into such an embarrassingly precarious situation. The pace had been nothing short of astonishing—three times his usual speed.

Cha Eun Xiao had initially devised a plan to regain control by increasing the distance between himself and the pursuers, hoping to execute the mission with finesse. However, to his surprise, the relentless pursuit had confined him to such close proximity that he hadn\'t even had the chance to glance back at his adversaries.

With an original intention of making a bold final dash into the House of Zuo to conclude the mission triumphantly, Cha Eun Xiao\'s newfound fatigue left him bereft of options.

Concealed within the dimly lit corner, Cha Eun Xiao fervently suppressed his racing heart and controlled his labored breath. Overwhelming sensations of discomfort surged through him in relentless waves. The urge to cough and inhale deeply was nearly irresistible, and the desire to take a seat on the ground was equally compelling. His legs trembled uncontrollably, and his brain seemed to swim in a pool of rushing blood. Yet, he remained frozen in place, even though his heart pounded ferociously. His breath remained gentle, soft, and unnoticeable.

As he navigated this perilous moment, Cha Eun Xiao pondered, "This situation has escalated far beyond my original plan." His confidence rested on the hope that the Boundless Saint would respond to the cacophonous shouts of the Sunlight Sect. "If the Boundless Saint hears them," he mused, "he won\'t simply let them continue to shout."

Relief washed over him as the eerie, chilling voice pierced the night, marking the end of the arduous mission. "My God," Cha Eun Xiao nearly whispered, "it\'s finally over."

At long last, Cha Eun Xiao\'s painstaking efforts had borne fruit. He could now finally breathe a sigh of relief, his mission successfully concluded. He couldn\'t help but acknowledge the sense of satisfaction that washed over him. "It finally succeeded," he thought, his weariness momentarily eclipsed by the victory he\'d achieved. "I can be relieved now. The Boundless Saint showed up already. All that I did, being chased like that, running like crazy while risking my life, it is not in vain."

Meanwhile, the Boundless Saint was in the throes of a turbulent tempest of emotions—anger and frustration swirled within him like an erupting volcano. The unspoken reality of his situation had rendered him speechless, filling him with a sense of profound incredulity.

He was irate, incredulous, and wholly unprepared for what had unfolded before him.

What in the world was this?

Within the confines of the House of Zuo, the Boundless Saint had been savoring a rare and cherished leisurely moment. Uncharacteristically, he had extended an invitation to his two trusted assistants to join him for a few drinks.

This casual indulgence marked a stark departure from the life of an assassin, especially one of his caliber. The field of assassination demanded constant vigilance and sobriety. The slightest emotional fluctuation could lead to mission failure or, worse yet, death. Alcohol had long been recognized as a bane for those in this perilous profession—intoxication was tantamount to a death sentence.

Yet, life without drinks was profoundly dull.

The assassins of the Boundless Lake were known for their craving for spirits, having been subject to strict prohibitions from partaking of them. The Boundless Saint had enacted a rule whereby each assassin was allowed to indulge in drinks only once a year, and to complicate matters further, those who ventured out together were prohibited from all getting drunk. One of them had to remain sober, ready to protect their inebriated companions. No one was exempt from this rule. Those who violated it faced swift and brutal consequences—no excuses, no reprieve.

On this particular night, the Boundless Saint\'s assessment of the situation led him to conclude that there was little cause for concern. The impending developments were slated to occur three days hence, or possibly even a week later. He had every reason to believe that he could savor the delights of Chen-Xing City, the most opulent city in the world. Therein lay the allure of the plan.

In a moment of candor, the Boundless Saint broached the subject with the fellow assassins who had accompanied him. "Maybe we should take this rare opportunity to enjoy a drink," he suggested. "It\'s a chance to savor good spirits and calibrate our emotional states, preparing ourselves for the hectic days that lie ahead."

Not a single one of them could refuse the Boundless Saint\'s proposition. It was a tantalizing plan, and it was rare for their revered leader to extend such an invitation.

The assassins under the banner of the Boundless Saint had nursed a profound thirst for intoxication, a craving that had gnawed at them for far too long. It was as though they could taste the spirits in the air when the tantalizing idea was broached. Their nodding heads and the droplets of saliva that glistened on their mouths bore testament to the sheer delight they took in the prospect of indulgence. To become inebriated in the midst of such opulence was an opportunity they were unwilling to pass up.

After an extended deliberation and several heated exchanges, intensified by the ever-present pressures of authority, it was ultimately decided that only two out of the seven assassins would be permitted to share in a drink with the Boundless Saint. This decision left the remaining five assassins simmering with frustration and regret. "Why must we remain mere spectators?" they fumed. "What harm is there in one of us remaining vigilant?"

However, the mere suggestion of such an arrangement had the Boundless Saint fuming with indignation. "This is a unique and crucial period," he proclaimed with unwavering authority. "We are in the heart of Chen-Xing City, and our mission is of the utmost importance. It is imperative that five of you remain vigilant."

Under the despondent gazes of their excluded comrades, the two fortunate assassins and the Boundless Saint reveled in their splendid repast. The banquet laid before them was nothing short of sumptuous, boasting an array of over a dozen meticulously prepared dishes. Furthermore, the emissary tasked with obtaining the spirits had outdone himself, returning with an impressive thirty jars of potent liquor, each jar weighing a hefty five kilograms.

These were no ordinary spirits; they were the coveted sixty-year-old Maiden Red, unparalleled in quality and regarded as the finest libation available in Chen-Xing City. Each jar was priced at three thousand taels, a sum set in stone, without room for negotiation. The sixty-year-old Maiden Red was no ordinary beverage; it consisted primarily of a paste-like distillate, a precious commodity in itself. Merely catching a whiff of the fragrant fumes could inebriate an individual. To fully enjoy this exquisite liquor, it was necessary to blend it with water, although this was not sufficient. It had to be mixed with other spirits to neutralize its potency.

This distinction was vital for the average drinker, but for the likes of the Boundless Saint and his associates, or for those in their rarefied echelon, the conventional customs surrounding spirits were largely irrelevant..