The Lord God Descends into League of Legends - Chapter 13

(Thanks to: My Baby Is So Cute for the 100 Qidian Coin reward!)

“Can you really sense where your sister is?” Mo Chen halted and turned back to look at Yan, asking her earnestly.

“Yan truly can sense where her sister is.” Yan tilted her small head, not quite understanding why he asked, but still nodded seriously.

“Good. You lead the way, and I’ll take you there.” Mo Chen scooped Yan into his arms. Above his head, the three flowers swayed; divine radiance circled his body. With a single step, he strode into the void and soared upward.

High in the sky, the winds were bitterly cold.

Mo Chen’s true essence surged, forming a silver-white barrier three feet around him, blocking the icy gusts outside. Following the direction Yan pointed, he streaked across the void like a shooting star.

“Master, you must be one of those legendary immortals, aren’t you?” Yan clutched his clothes tightly with both hands, her little head swiveling as she took in the world around her. Her rosy face was flushed with excitement. Tilting her face up, her eyes glittered with reverence as she asked in a soft, childish voice.

“Hehe, I’m merely a beginner cultivator, just stepping onto the path. Immortals… that’s far beyond me.” Hearing her innocent exclamation, Mo Chen gazed into the void and shook his head with a smile.

Reaching the peak of Innate cultivation, gathering the Three Flowers atop one’s head—this was merely the beginning of practice. Only by condensing the Five Qi within the chest and forming the supreme Golden Core could one be said to have truly stepped into the world of cultivation. As for the realm of immortals and gods… Mo Chen’s eyes flickered with determination, then he shook his head. That path was still far away.

“But Master can fly. Isn’t flying something only immortals can do?” Yan bit her thumb, puzzlement clear on her little face as she looked up at him with wide, serious eyes.

“Not only immortals can fly. If you want to learn, I can teach you someday.” Mo Chen’s tone was calm, though his gaze shone with a peculiar light.

He wondered what heights these sisters, born with such strange gifts, might reach if they were to cultivate. He longed for a day when this world would see a hundred schools of thought contend, martial arts evolving to new heights, and the world itself advancing.

With the Lord God unable to continue searching other realms, he feared not a world brimming with powerful figures—what he feared most was one forever stagnant.

“Yan can learn to fly too?” Hearing Mo Chen’s words, Yan’s bright eyes went wide, her cute little face frozen in astonishment. Thumb still in her mouth, she stammered excitedly.

“Of course you can.” Mo Chen nodded firmly. Inwardly, he thought: Not only you—anyone in this world can!

Two hours later, the blazing July sun poured its light and heat without restraint.

Chu Kingdom, Yingdu.

At the eastern gate of Yingdu, long lines of people waited to enter. The soldiers guarding the gates lounged lazily, far from their usual diligent and watchful selves.

“Why are those lords so idle today?” a merchant asked curiously from the crowd, glancing at a middle-aged man beside him.

Normally, the soldiers’ eyes would blaze like torches, as if they’d strip every passerby bare with their gaze. To see them so slack today was rare indeed.

“You must have just returned from elsewhere,” the middle-aged man said, eyeing him with a sigh. “Yesterday, the King of Chu issued an order. The great shaman Yue Linglong declared that soon the divine envoy of Eastern Emperor Taiyi will descend from beyond the heavens. To celebrate, the king has waived all taxes within the city for several days, and even lifted the nightly curfew. Yingdu hasn’t seen such festivities in over a decade.”

Understanding dawned on the merchant’s face. So that’s why there’s no bribes or taxes to collect—no wonder they’re idle. But at the mention of a divine envoy, his lips curled in mockery. If gods truly existed, the world wouldn’t be in such chaos, with lords warring and no land at peace.

Following behind with Yan, Mo Chen frowned slightly at the overheard words. What game is Yue Linglong playing at? He pondered for a moment but could not guess. Shaking his head, he put it aside.

With the entry tax gone, the line moved quickly. In no time at all, Mo Chen and Yan had entered Yingdu.

Past the gates stretched a packed dirt road, over three meters wide, thronged with people. On either side stood old, weathered houses.

“Can you sense which way your sister is?” Mo Chen asked softly, glancing down at Yan.

Yan sucked her thumb, her strange red eyes flicking about. After a moment, she pointed southeast, smiling brightly: “That way! Sister is there. Wonderful—she hasn’t been eaten!”

Mo Chen followed her finger. Through the busy streets, he saw a surging crowd. Many carried weapons, and several carriages rolled in from other parts of the city.

Looks like a marketplace. Mo Chen relaxed slightly. If so, her sister hasn’t yet been sold off.

With Yan, he headed that way.

Half an hour later, they arrived at a bustling marketplace.

The market was more chaotic than outside. On both sides of the road stood pens like animal stalls. But within them were not livestock—they were people, ragged and filthy.

Men and women, faces varied—muscular slaves from the southern wilds, delicate beauties indistinguishable from Central Plains folk.

Mo Chen walked steadily past, Yan clutching his hand curiously. The deeper they went, the better the surroundings became. The roadside pens gave way to wooden huts with curtains, and the slaves displayed outside were clearly of higher quality. At least they wore clothes, unlike the wretches outside—bare-chested men and even naked women left for buyers to grope as they pleased.

After walking more than a hundred meters, Yan suddenly stopped. Her little face lit up with joy. She tugged Mo Chen’s sleeve, pointing ahead. “Master, I found Sister!”

Mo Chen paused, following her finger. Behind a row of houses lay a broad field, nearly the size of a football pitch. Carriages lined its outer edges, while inside, beneath canopies spaced evenly apart, sat a sea of onlookers.

Along both sides of the field stood nearly a hundred armed guards. Their steps were precise, eyes sharp, right hands never leaving their weapons—clearly elite soldiers.

At the edge of the grounds, a middle-aged man in gray robes noticed Mo Chen and Yan halt. His keen eyes studied them. Seeing Mo Chen’s pale, delicate hands and clean clothing, he quickly judged: Not a man of ordinary birth.

Understanding, the man smiled and approached with courtesy. “This humble one is Fang Ziyu, steward of this place. Is young master here to partake in our Luan family’s slave auction? I dare say—without boasting—that our wares are the finest in all of Yingdu. In fact, today we have a rare treasure as the highlight of the sale, a once-in-a-lifetime prize.”

“Oh? Now you’ve piqued my interest. What’s required to participate?” Mo Chen asked calmly, already thinking of Yan’s sister.

“Only ten gold, or equivalent collateral, grants entry.” Fang Ziyu bowed with a smile.

“Very well.” Mo Chen’s face remained serene. He drew a small ingot of gold from his robes and tossed it over.

Though he knew “gold” in this Spring and Autumn era referred to bronze currency, he had no such coins. From the Lord God, he had exchanged for eighty tons of gold. He didn’t know exactly how much was required, but such a trifle didn’t concern him.

Fang Ziyu caught the ingot. Just by hefting it, he could tell it was genuine gold—pure and rare. This single piece was worth no less than a hundred gold.

“Please, this way, young master.” Fang Ziyu’s smile deepened, his tone even more deferential as he gestured invitingly.