Meanwhile, on the other side.
Zhao Tianyang's figure disappeared at the end of the mine shaft.
He did not look back.
The winds of the Great Wasteland were far more violent than those inside the mine.
The sound of the wind was no longer a dull howl, but a sharp shriek, like countless vengeful spirits wailing in one's ears.
Gravel was swept up, striking his body with crisp crackling sounds. Every single grain carried enough force to pierce through metal and stone.
Just like driving a vehicle, when encountering a fierce headwind, one should find a way to take shelter.
Even a Soul Formation cultivator like Zhao Tianyang had to channel his spiritual energy to form a thin protective barrier over his body, fending off this pervasive erosion.
But he did not go far.
Behind a massive rock just a few miles from the mine's exit, he came to a halt.
This was a natural windbreak. The fierce gales were blocked by the rock, creating a relatively calm area.
Zhao Tianyang familiarly slipped into a crevice in the rock and sat cross-legged. His lofty, life-and-death-dictating aura from the mine vanished without a trace.
From his robes, he carefully took out a cracked voice transmission jade slip.
The material of the jade slip was of very poor quality, not even comparable to the stone tablets the mine overseers used for record-keeping.
Pressing the jade slip against his glabella, Zhao Tianyang closed his eyes. At this moment, a look of almost humble reverence appeared on his deeply wrinkled, aged face.
Young Master.
His voice was no longer that raspy tone; instead, it carried a hint of cautious sycophancy.
The matter you entrusted to me... might just be accomplished.
The other end of the jade slip remained silent for a long time.
So long that a layer of fine cold sweat seeped from Zhao Tianyang's forehead.
Finally, a youthful voice, somewhat lazy yet exuding an innate aristocratic air, slowly sounded.
Oh?
Just a single word, yet it made Zhao Tianyang subconsciously bow his waist a bit lower.
Among this batch of mine slaves, I found an ascender with an extremely special physique.
Zhao Tianyang lowered his voice to a whisper, as if afraid of disturbing something.
He can neutralize baleful aura.
Furthermore... I am ninety percent sure that it is the legendary Flawless Physique you have been searching for.
This time, the voice from the other end of the jade slip clearly carried a ripple of emotion.
Ninety percent?
Yes. Zhao Tianyang's tone was incredibly certain. I have personally tested him; there is absolutely no way this person is faking it. It's just that his background is a bit bizarre. He is a man...
He claims to possess an acquired physique, obtained by practicing a demonic art and devouring a Flawless Physique.
That is not important.
As long as he can neutralize baleful aura, as long as he truly has the Flawless Physique, then he is our Zhao family's last hope!
I request permission to leave the mine. I want to go to a nearby sect to borrow an artifact for testing special physiques.
The other end of the jade slip fell silent once more.
After a long while, the young voice sounded again, but this time, it carried an unquestionable decisiveness.
Go. If it is indeed the Flawless Physique, notify me again.
I will find a way to secure a suitable witness.
Remember, this matter must succeed; failure is not an option.
Otherwise...
As soon as the words fell, the voice transmission jade slip in Zhao Tianyang's hand shattered into fine powder with a crack.
Zhao Tianyang slowly lowered his hand, his humble and respectful face gradually returning to its usual gloominess.
He stepped out of the rock crevice and stood once more on this grayish-white wasteland.
The wind and sand raged on.
Yet, he seemed unable to feel the piercing chill.
Indeed.
He, Zhao Tianyang, was one of the very few ascenders who had walked out of this living hell of a mine alive.
Back in the day, he had also been a peerless genius of his era in the lower realm. He had been high-spirited and full of vigor, believing himself to be the chosen one of destiny.
But when he truly walked out of the mine and witnessed the vastness of this world, he finally understood...
He was nothing but a frog that had jumped from the bottom of one well into another, slightly larger well.
He was a late bloomer. By the time he ascended, he had long missed the golden age of cultivation.
Those sects with eternal legacies and immortal noble families wanted exceptional seedlings with boundless futures, not an old tree like him—someone who, despite having decent strength, was already set in his ways and drained of potential.
He had bowed and scraped, and he had hit walls everywhere he went.
In the end, after going around in circles, only this minor family that had once enslaved him was willing to take him in as a guest elder.
Guest elder was a nice way to put it.
Put bluntly, he was just an old watchdog guarding their gates.
He sorrowfully discovered that the finish line he had risked his life and fought with all his might to reach was not even comparable to the starting line others had at birth.
He was unwilling to accept this.
Therefore, when that Young Master—who was equally unwilling to see his family decline—presented a crazy plan to him...
He agreed without hesitation.
He volunteered to return to this nightmare of a place he had sworn never to set foot in again, taking up the role of an overseer once more.
All for a legend that only existed in the records of ancient texts.
Everyone thought it was a fool's dream.
But he had finally waited long enough to see it.
Zhao Tianyang slowly turned around, looking back in the direction of the mine.
In those cloudy eyes, there was no longer a shred of disgust for this land.
It was replaced by an unprecedented, burning fervor.
That place was no longer a graveyard burying geniuses.
But a mountain of treasure... harboring endless hope.
Su Hao.
Zhao Tianyang softly chewed on this name in his heart.
He did not care whether this kid was real or fake, nor did he care what schemes or tricks he might have.
As long as he could open that door.
As long as he could allow him, and the Zhao family, to obtain what was inside.
Then he would be the most valuable tool in the world.
A witness...
Zhao Tianyang softly spat out these words.
The price of inviting a True Immortal-level witness was so astronomical that it would completely bankrupt the current Zhao family.
But if...
If they won this gamble...
Zhao Tianyang's cloudy eyes gleamed terrifyingly bright at this moment.
His deeply wrinkled, aged face slowly curled into a sinister smile.
As long as it succeeds...
So what if they go bankrupt?!
Moreover...
The thing deep within the mine...
Might not necessarily escape his own grasp!
The one closest to the water gets the moon first!
Was he really supposed to be someone else's dog for the rest of his life?!
transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
end. Thus one must continue to cultivate, and become a saint or great emperor, in order to prolong one's life. Chen Xia, however, completely reversed this. Since his transmigration, he has gained immortality, and also a system that awards him with attribute points for every year he lives. Thus between the myriad worlds, the legend of an unparalleled senior appeared. "A gentleman takes revenge; it is never too late even after ten thousand years." "When you were at your peak I yielded, now in your old age I shall trample on you." - Chen Xia
pression Bureau] Transported to a fantasy world overrun by demons and monsters, Gu Qingfeng becomes a jailer in the Demon Suppression Prison of the Great Yan Dynasty's Demon Suppression Bureau. From this point on, bizarre cases frequently occur in the Demon Suppression Prison, once known as hell on earth and infamous for its gloomy, terrifying atmosphere! Why do the demons and monsters in the prison wail miserably every night? Why has the corpse demon, capable of transforming into various beauties, donned black stockings and switched careers to become a foot massage therapist? Why has the eye demon, expert in soul-snatching and illusions, turned into a VR headset? Why is the fox spirit performing otaku dances? Are all these occurrences a twisted expression of demonic nature, or a descent into moral depravity? After peeling away layer upon layer of mystery, all clues ultimately point to a jailer named Gu Qingfeng. Gu Qingfeng: "Hehehe... My dear demons and monsters, whose card shall we flip today?"
