# 334
**Chapter 334: Figure on the Sea**
Splash—!!
A massive wave crashed against the reef, thundering like a clap of lightning. The four figures plummeted from the high wall, racing down the cliff face!
Just before they hit the water, Lin Qiye drew a deep breath and spoke again:
*"The great roc rises with the wind in a single day, soaring ninety thousand li!"*
Whoosh—!
A violent updraft burst forth.
The terrifying current slammed into their falling bodies, halting their descent mid-air before sweeping them up and hurling them across the sea!
The wind carved white trails across the waves. They were like an arrow suspended in mid-flight, howling forward!
Lin Qiye’s blood-stained cloak flapped wildly. He glanced back—the colossal structure on the island was already shrinking behind them.
Ahead lay the vast, open sea.
Baili Pangpang’s peripheral vision caught something. He turned toward another cliff and spotted a man in a white fox mask standing silently atop the precipice, watching them leave.
“Heh…”
Baili Pangpang grinned and flashed the man a cocky middle finger.
High on the cliff.
Shen Qingzhu’s eye twitched beneath his mask at the gesture. He resisted the urge to drain the air and drop the fat brat into the sea, snorted, and turned away.
After a few seconds he glanced back once more…
A wistful look flickered in his eyes.
He shook his head, a bitter smile tugging at his lips, and walked alone toward the sea on the other side.
…
Inside the Purification Chamber.
The master’s carriage pierced through several buildings and halted at the ruined main gate.
Master Chen stepped down, surveying the chaos. Soldiers were collecting corpses. His brows knit; he turned to ask:
“What happened?”
The commander stepped forward and recounted everything. Master Chen’s furrowed brow slowly relaxed.
He gazed toward the horizon where the four figures had vanished, the corner of his mouth lifting.
“That brat…”
“Forget it. If he wants to go… let him go.”
He flicked his sleeve and strode back inside—there was a mountain of work waiting.
Suddenly he stopped, suspicious.
“Hold on… feels like I’ve forgotten something…”
…
“What?!”
Ye Fan’s eyes bulged at Doctor Li and Master Chen, his face screaming *are you kidding me?*
“He ran? You just let him run?” Ye Fan clutched a thick stack of documents, his face green. “I told you to keep an eye on him until I came to collect him!”
Master Chen and Doctor Li exchanged awkward glances.
“The situation was… unusual. Slipped our minds—heh—tiny mishap.” Master Chen lifted a teacup from the table and offered it.
“Commander Ye, calm down. Have some tea.”
Ye Fan glowered, hesitated, then took a sip.
“Not bad…”
He smacked his lips. “I’ve read the Purification Chamber report, but Lin Qiye must not come to harm. He’s my pick for captain of the future fifth special squad. I nearly talked my tongue off getting these papers approved!”
“Rest assured, Commander,” Master Chen said. “It’s only been an hour since they left. At their speed they’re still drifting out there. Chase now and you’ll catch them…”
Ye Fan slammed the cup down.
“Important detail—why didn’t you say so? Which direction?”
…
Endless sea.
A crude ice boat carried four teenagers, bobbing forward inch by inch.
Lin Qiye sat at the bow, eyes closed, lost in thought.
Clink—!
His Straight Blade flashed from its sheath, diving beneath the waves. Seconds later it shot back out, five wriggling fish skewered along the blade.
He flicked the hilt; the fish thudded onto the deck.
An Qingyu sat on the gunwale, one hand always on the hull, constantly reinforcing the ice against melt. In seawater ice vanishes far faster than in air; without him the boat would dissolve within minutes.
The Purification Chamber sat in remote waters, too far from land. Crossing the ocean on one person’s mental power was impossible, so they took turns—first An Qingyu’s ice boat, then Baili Pangpang’s 【Yao Guang】, relaying onward.
Cao Yuan grabbed a fish, inspected it, and—satisfied it was edible—called to the stern:
“String ’em up!”
Baili Pangpang shrugged, drew the 【One Becomes Three Thousand】 sword, and with a shake produced five long blades. Like skewers they speared the fish, then he stabbed the points toward his own chest—
Sss!
His built-in firewall ignited the fish; moments later the aroma of grilled seafood drifted over the boat.
“Qiye, why the extra?” Baili Pangpang asked, handing out four.
“Must’ve caught one too many by accident,” Lin Qiye said.
An Qingyu stared at his portion, sighed, and began to eat.
They had no idea how long until land; after the last battle they needed calories or they’d crash later.
Lin Qiye froze mid-bite, sprang up, and stared ahead, hand on his blade.
“Qiye?” Baili Pangpang asked.
Lin Qiye’s eyes narrowed, every nerve taut.
“Someone’s on the water up ahead.”
Early dawn, thin mist curled over the waves. Through the haze a figure walked toward them…
The other three snapped to their feet, battle-ready.
As the mist thinned the silhouette sharpened: a middle-aged man in a dark-red cloak, Straight Blade at his waist, striding across the rolling sea as if it were solid ground. He halted before their ice boat.
His gaze swept them, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
“Good reflexes.”