392: Chapter 392 The Sword Shadows Gathered, Chen Xiaodao Sensed Something Abnormal

As the morning light just crawled over the ridge of the East Ridge, Chen Xiaodao retracted his sword and landed. With the tip of his foot tapping the bluestone in the courtyard, his entire body settled down lightly.

His breathing was long and steady, and the vibration of the Sword Qi cutting through the air still lingered on his fingertips. The half-mechanical, half-spirit-patterned longsword at his waist hummed incessantly, as if it had just drunk its fill of wind and thunder.

He had been in seclusion last night and had finally polished the "Severing Flow Style" to perfection.

This sword technique emphasized using stillness to control movement, striking only after the enemy had made their move. If the sword didn't come out, so be it; if it did, it would sever rivers.

He felt comfortable all over, a sense of crisp agility permeating even the gaps in his bones. He was planning to return to his room to brew a pot of spirit tea and, while he was at it, charge his newly equipped laser sword.

But just as he stepped into the courtyard, his footsteps halted.

The forging area was unusually quiet.

At this time, the three main mechanical arms should have been rumbling, moving the substrates in the furnace, with the clanging sounds ringing endlessly.

But today, three were missing.

Only two were still running, their rhythm as slow as an old ox pulling a cart.

What was even more wrong was the patrol mecha—their trajectories were off.

It wasn't the erratic drifting of a malfunction, but a conscious avoidance of several nodes in the direction of the South Ridge, as if guarding against someone spying.

Xiao Dao knit his brows and swept his gaze toward the depths of the Artifact Refining Workshop.

Chen Tiezhu stood outside the furnace, his back to the firelight, motionless.

That man usually walked with the wind, and when he scolded people, his voice could lift the roof. But now, he was like an iron-cast stake, his shadow stretched long, reflected on the wall like a half-drawn sword.

"Uncle Tiezhu?" Xiao Dao sheathed his sword, his voice clear. "Why aren't you firing up the furnace today?"

Chen Tiezhu slowly turned his head, his goggles sliding down half an inch, revealing a pair of bloodshot yet sharp, eagle-like eyes.

"You're back." His voice was hoarse, unlike the grumpy old craftsman he usually was. "Come in, and close the door."

Xiao Dao's heart skipped a beat. He closed the courtyard gate as he moved, his steps not faltering. "What's wrong? Did something happen at home?"

Chen Tiezhu didn't answer immediately but stared at him for two seconds before suddenly asking, "Does your Master... know yet?"

"The Family Head?" Xiao Dao paused. "Did he just leave your place?"

Chen Tiezhu nodded and lowered his voice. "Inside the Alliance, someone wants to rebel."

Four words, as light as wind blowing dust, yet they caused Chen Xiaodao to freeze entirely.

His right hand instinctively reached for the hilt of his sword, his knuckles turning white.

"Who?"

"It's not clear yet." Chen Tiezhu narrowed his eyes, looking toward the distant high platform. "But someone is probing our Earth Veins; the fire color has turned blue. Your Master has already ordered a lockdown on external communications and issued a Level 3 combat readiness."

Xiao Dao didn't speak but slowly drew his blade half an inch.

The blade reflected the morning light, emitting a cold, silvery radiance.

That light danced in his pupils, as if something dormant had awakened.

"They chose the wrong time." He said in a low voice. "I just realized the 'Severing Flow Style' last night—it's perfect for testing the sword on people."

Chen Tiezhu looked at him and suddenly smiled. "If your Master heard that, he'd definitely scold you for being a reckless youth."

"But he knows I'll do it." Xiao Dao sheathed his sword and turned to leave. "I'm going to the training grounds to arrange rotation training for the three Sword Cultivator teams, and I'll charge my newly equipped laser sword while I'm at it."

"Wait!" Chen Tiezhu called out to him. "Don't make a scene! Your Master wants to strike first, not alert the enemy!"

Xiao Dao's footsteps halted. He turned back, a cold sneer tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I didn't say I wanted to make a big fuss. I'm just... keeping the sword sharp."

As he finished speaking, he leaped over the courtyard wall, his figure disappearing between the rooftops with a few bounds.

Chen Tiezhu watched the direction he had left, murmuring, "Good lad... finally, someone can handle that mad sword."

Meanwhile, Chen Wuwang had walked to the eaves of the Main Hall.

His fingers were still tapping—tap, tap, tap—the rhythm unchanging. Each tap landed on the edge of the stone steps, as if counting heartbeats, or as if counting down.

He stopped tapping and slowly stroked the dagger at his waist with his left hand.

The blade was cold, and the runes were slightly warm.

"Come," he said softly, as if inviting an old friend to a feast. "Let me see whose hand has reached out too far."

Footsteps came from behind; it was a messenger.

"Family Head, all instructions have been implemented."

"Hmm." He didn't turn back. "Withdraw the open sentries, leave the hidden ones. Let the children practice their sword skills as usual, and harvest the Medicinal Field as usual."

"But... what if they make a move..."

"Then let them make a move." Chen Wuwang finally turned around, his Mechanical Prosthetic Eye flashing with blue light. "But I must let them believe they have won the first step."

The messenger swallowed hard. "Understood."

Chen Wuwang raised his hand and patted the young man on the shoulder, his tone even carrying a hint of a smile. "Don't be afraid. The blades of our Chen family are always drawn last—but they are the deadliest."

After speaking, he turned and walked into the shadows of the Main Hall, leaving only a faint sentence: "Go tell Xiao Dao, the sword can be unsheathed, but it must not be drawn, unless I give the order."

The messenger stood at attention. "Yes!"

The hall door closed, and silence returned.

Sunlight spilled onto the steps, warm as if nothing had ever happened.

But the entire Chen family had quietly crouched down, like a dormant beast, waiting silently for the prey to step into the trap.

On the east side of the training ground, three teams of young Sword Cultivators were sparring.

Sword lights crossed, and the mecha auxiliary Systems hummed to life. Some leaped and slashed while stepping on floating platforms, while others slid along the ground to thrust. The scene was very lively.

No one noticed a black shadow sweep across the rooftops and land lightly by the edge of the training platform.

Chen Xiaodao took off his outer robe and threw it on the ground, drew his longsword, and pointed the tip toward the sky.

"Everyone, stop for a moment." His voice wasn't loud, but it suppressed all the clamor.

Everyone stopped their movements and turned to look.

"From now on, the three teams' rotation training will be changed to actual combat simulation." He scanned the circle. "The enemy is unknown, their methods are unknown, but their goal is clear—to destroy our clan's Foundation."

Someone couldn't help but ask, "Young Lord, has something happened?"

"It's not a question of 'if'." Xiao Dao sneered. "It's that someone has already made a move. We just haven't shown them yet how fast and how ruthless we are."

He flicked his wrist, the sword light surged, and a silver arc slashed down, hitting the bullseye ten zhang away.

Boom! The target exploded into fragments, and even the stone tablet behind it was shorn off at a corner.

Before the dust settled, he added, "Starting today, add two hours of training every day. The laser sword charge rate must be raised to one hundred percent, and the spirit energy resonance System must achieve zero-latency response."

"Yes!"

"Also." His gaze landed on a youth. "You, go check the backup energy modules of the West Gate Light Array. Don't let them fail when we need them."

The youth was stunned. "But that's the logistics team's job..."

"Now it's your job too." Xiao Dao stared at him. "I don't care which team you're on. I only care if, when the sword is drawn, it can split the dogs blocking the way."

The youth's face flushed red, and he gritted his teeth and agreed. "Yes! I'll go right now!"

Only then did Xiao Dao nod and sheath his sword.

He looked up at the sky.

The clouds were light and the breeze was gentle, with birds chirping in succession.

But he knew this peace wouldn't last long.

Inside the Artifact Refining Workshop, the furnace roared.

Chen Tiezhu put his goggles back on, his fingers dancing on the control panel, inputting a string of commands—

[Spirit Energy Furnace: Level 2 Alert Mode Activated]

[Temperature Threshold Adjusted Upward]

[Resonance Frequency Locked to South Ridge Coordinates]

[Abnormal Intruder Marking Program Loaded]

The furnace exploded with a roar, the blue flames turning golden, and a heatwave rushed toward his face, illuminating half of his face in flickering light and shadow.

He stared at the Earth Vein waveform on the screen; that slightly trembling line had still not returned to normal.

"Bastards... they really dare to reach out."

He cursed in a low voice, grabbed the tin water pot on the table, and gulped down some cold tea. "Then let me let you taste how hot the muzzle of the Xuan Armor III I just refined is."

Deep inside the Main Hall, Chen Wuwang sat at his desk.

A map of the entire Eastern Wasteland was spread out on the desk, with a few copper nails pinning down key nodes.

He didn't look at the map, nor did he pick up a pen.

He just listened quietly to the news coming from outside—

"The training grounds have adjusted the rotation training according to instructions."

"The Medicinal Field harvest is as usual, and the Dew-Condensing Grass sent by Aunt Li has been distributed to the night shift technicians."

"The West Gate Light Array energy is stable, and Chen Xiaoshi is personally leading the team to patrol."

He nodded, leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, his eyes were as clear as a blade.

He stood up and walked to the window.

Outside the window, children were practicing martial arts, pharmacists were picking herbs, and mechas were patrolling.

Everything was as usual.

But beneath this peace, a string had already been stretched to the limit.

He raised his hand and tapped the window lattice three times.

Tap, tap, tap.

As if counting down.

And as if waiting for a gunshot.