Inside Ororon's small house, the misunderstanding was resolved.
The word "Granny" that the youth shouted at the end made Mu Yang stop the hand that was about to strike.
If the other party was Granny Itztli, then this move could count as a spar, and Citlali would have no problem taking it.
But if it really was his actual grandmother — the frail and elderly kind — and Mu Yang failed to hold back his strength, the misunderstanding would be huge…
"So everything was just a misunderstanding…"
"Yes, Granny." Ororon was busy pouring tea.
Mu Yang turned out to be Granny's newly made friend.
Not many people could interact with Granny as friends.
When Ororon handed over the tea, he had considered calling Mu Yang "Grandpa."
But before the words left his mouth, he felt a chill crawl up his spine.
In the end, he changed it to the respectful "Mr. Mu Yang."
Mu Yang was somewhat curious. If Ororon had used the same kind of technique as Citlali, with his strength he should have suffered backlash and remained lost in the mist for a long time.
How had he touched upon death in just an instant?
"Mist?" Ororon looked puzzled.
He had not touched the restriction Mu Yang set.
He had indeed wanted to probe Mu Yang's depth.
But before he acted, he noticed something unusual deep in Mu Yang's soul and followed that direction to investigate…
"Ouch, what are you doing~ Granny…"
Ororon received a chop to the head.
"What do you mean 'what are you doing'? Don't you have any self-awareness about your own abilities? If Mu Yang hadn't noticed it early, would you even have come back?"
Mu Yang really wanted to say that it felt like your style. If I hadn't been merciful back then, you might not have come back either.
However, this was the first time Mu Yang had heard anyone mention the issue with his soul.
"Can you tell me what you saw?"
"There was an elegant lady on your body. With just one glance, she stabbed me countless times with her sword. That aura…"
Ororon hesitated and looked toward Citlali.
Mu Yang said, "It's the Abyss, right?"
The people of Natlan understood the Abyss more deeply than those of other nations.
Mu Yang did not hide it.
Ororon nodded.
This was also why he had been so terrified after Mu Yang drew his sword.
He knew Granny was very powerful.
But if the opponent carried the power of the Abyss, the nature of the matter would be completely different.
The room fell into a strange silence.
Mu Yang did not want to mention anything about Clarisse to these unrelated people.
At this point in time, things were close to being triggered.
The more people who knew, the more trouble there would be in Chenyu Vale later.
He did not want his friends to go there and show off their abilities.
If all of you came, the show couldn't go on.
Mu Yang preferred the feeling of having everything under his control.
Everyone had their own little secrets.
Citlali, who had lived for hundreds of years, understood this especially well.
She took the opportunity to change the subject and asked Mu Yang what he was looking for her for.
They had only parted not long ago, right?
"If you're looking for a guide from the Masters of the Night-Wind, then you've come to the wrong person," Citlali said.
Mu Yang recounted what had just happened to him.
"A tall Iktomisaurus… What you're talking about should be the current Iktomisaurus Great Elder, the great Tlapopoztli. We usually call him Elder Tlapo."
Citlali gave a brief introduction to this elder.
Generally speaking, his oracles were not something just anyone could receive.
Not to mention that only members of the Masters of the Night-Wind could hear the oracles, and Mu Yang was not even a Natlan native.
"You did something beneficial for all of Natlan these past few days, right?"
Citlali chose to ask directly.
Because the person in question was Mu Yang.
If it were anyone else, she would have already asked them to stretch out their hand for a divination — quick and accurate…
"Does saving the Mountain King's life count?"
"Mountain King?!" Ororon was first shocked, then thought about it again.
With Abyss power suppressed deep in Mu Yang's soul, it made perfect sense that he could rescue the Mountain King!
"That's it then. Elder Tlapo should be expressing his thanks to you," Citlali explained.
The Masters of the Night-Wind had an ancient tradition of recording Natlan's history through woven fabrics.
However, they did not only record their own tribe's history.
Heroic legends and deeds from other tribes were also included in the records.
This had been the case for over a thousand years — it was the mission of the Masters of the Night-Wind.
And whenever a major event that affected all of Natlan occurred, a very special kind of fabric was needed to record it.
Only those chosen by Elder Tlapo could complete such a fabric.
"According to what you said, he should be looking for the person who records the event, not me, the one who saved the Mountain King."
After listening, Mu Yang felt something was off.
Citlali nodded. "Indeed. I also find it a bit strange. As for why it bowed to you, only it itself probably knows."
After speaking, Citlali made a gesture like a magic trick in the air and asked Mu Yang what he saw.
Mu Yang shook his head, saying he couldn't see it clearly.
"It seems you really aren't the candidate for making the fabric…"
Citlali did not continue.
The meaning behind that bow might involve Mu Yang's background.
She did not dare to probe any further.
"Should I go to the Masters of the Night-Wind then?"
"Traveling there is of course fine, but if you want to ask clearly about Elder Tlapo's oracle, it will probably be difficult. Even the chief can't interpret more than I can."
In the end, Mu Yang still chose to make a trip to the Masters of the Night-Wind.
Under Ororon's guidance, he arrived at the territory of the Masters of the Night-Wind.
The Masters of the Night-Wind at night was very beautiful — illusory mist, glowing murals, like stepping into a dream.
Mu Yang met Elder Tlapo. This time, it once again bowed to Mu Yang.
However, no one around could explain it, including the chief.
In the end, Mu Yang could only let the matter drop.
His power shared the same origin as the nails from the heavens, but a dragon bowing to a nail from the heavens?
That seemed a bit unnecessary…
Mu Yang did not stay long in the Masters of the Night-Wind. The people here preferred meditation over communicating with others…
Feeling bored, Mu Yang turned and headed toward the Flower-Feather Clan.
At a small plain where the Flower-Feather Clan and the Masters of the Night-Wind bordered each other.
Two forces were confronting each other here.
A battle was about to break out!
At this tense moment, a melodious harmonica sound rang out.
A feathered dragon stopped in the middle between the two groups.
"Chasca? Perfect timing!"
"Wait, Boss, that's not Chasca!"
The next scene.
If the Wingless Ones of the Flower-Feather Clan saw it, they would probably be devastated for life.
Leaning casually on the back of the feathered dragon and flying over was not Chasca, but Mu Yang.
His posture was relaxed, and he was still playing the harmonica.
Even someone as tough as Chasca still used reins.
Young man! Are you trying to ruin the Flower-Feather Clan?!
"Who is this kid?"
"I don't know, he's not one of ours."
"Whoever he is, on my turf, I won't allow someone this pretentious to exist."
Both sides turned their guns outward in unison, aiming at Mu Yang.
Mu Yang stopped his harmonica performance.
"Hm? Want to compete with me? Then you'd better be careful…"