Chapter Thirty-Four: Living Up to the Trust

The casing was welded, then subjected to stress relief and hardness treatments to ensure the performance and safety of the torpedo body. It was then painted with a custom-mixed naval grey, designed for anti-rust and anti-corrosion protection.

Finally, the traditional family designation "YU-1" was stenciled on, officially marking the completion of their self-developed Type 1 torpedo.

It featured a pale naval grey finish, a classic hemispherical warhead, and a sleek, streamlined frame designed for minimal underwater resistance and higher speed efficiency. It sat in silence.

Zhang Xueling and Wang Mazi had never visited the Old Lord’s Tomb, so naturally, they could not decipher the meaning of the inscription on the stone tablet.

Xiao Yan struggled to pull the ore over. As his palm brushed over the top and bottom of the stone, he confirmed the presence of jagged, broken edges.

After traveling for half the day, everyone was exhausted. After exchanging a few words, some went to find food, while others began their cultivation.

High upon the platform, in an inconspicuous corner, Yuan Tianmu cast a faint glance at the battles occurring across the three arenas and gave a slight shake of his head.

Last night, he must have drunk too much, which led to his loss of composure. That certainly wouldn't happen today.

The moment the ice-fire storm crashed down, Finick withdrew his mental energy. He had no other choice; such a powerful magical upheaval would have ruthlessly shredded his psychic probes with indiscriminate elemental bombardment had he left them there.

It was the same this time as well; she let out a small laugh and said, "You are very thoughtful, Nanny," before dismissing Nanny Jin.

Those warm jades looked far too valuable to be discarded without reason. Since they were placed there, they surely served some specific purpose.

He could use this invitation to enter the auction house. Although he didn’t know what special treatment it granted the holder, he assumed it would be significantly better than what an ordinary attendee received.

"It is merely a Marrow-Cleansing Pill; it is of no use to me, so let it be." Having said this, the Emperor picked up the teacup at his side and sipped it slowly. No one could discern what he was thinking.

He lifted the stainless steel lid to reveal a heart-shaped steak, garnished with tomatoes and broccoli, looking quite exquisite. He set the fruit salad on the table, opened the red wine, and filled a glass for each of them.

It was already night; he had been so caught up in the excitement at the Zhu family estate that he hadn't noticed the sky turning dark.

A wave of dejection welled up in his heart, but then, a comforting aroma tickled his nose. Egg noodles?

Natasha’s expression was grave. Given the distance they had already traveled, there was precious little time left.

He looked at the shield he had crafted with so much divine power, now cracked from Lin Mo’s attack.

Even with the blessing of the Dark Dragon King’s remnant soul, it was an impossible feat for a second-tier god to face a first-tier god head-on.

Although Wu Dao did not particularly mind doing so, reputation was still important. Dealing a heavy blow to highwaymen and bandits was fine—the authorities would even commend his chivalry as a warrior. But if he were to slaughter innocent civilians, there would be no commendations; he would instead face interrogation and even manhunts.

Turning around, he saw the brothers and sisters of the Gusu family. They possessed thousands of years of cultivation; while not overwhelmingly powerful, they were a force to be reckoned with when combined.

The two walked to a secluded spot, but mindful of Xia Huai’s reputation, they ensured they remained within view of others.

He believed De Canjiwang was right: combat should be measured, and one should not wager their entire livelihood on a single engagement.

No sooner had Huntinge finished speaking than an officer with a thick, bushy beard began to shout loudly. With someone to take the lead, the other officers present began to echo his sentiments. One had to remember that they were all veterans of the Pacific War, and some had even participated in the counter-offensives on the European front.

In the afternoons, the two usually watched their two apprentices practice in the courtyard. Feng Yue watched with great interest, but every so often, when she tilted her head, she would catch the man beside her—supposedly a model of propriety—staring not at his apprentices, but at her.

"Mr. Lan, hello!" Fearing the man wouldn't hear her, Ye Chenmeng shouted at the top of her lungs.