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墨書 Inktalez
The battle within Xianzuka continued, with no retreat for anyone; advancing meant vast opportunities, while retreating led to utter destruction.
Yet, the combined difficulty of all the Cultivators here was less than a tenth of that faced by Northern Crossing Qing.
He floated like a solitary boat in a sea of monsters, without the danger of capsizing, but peril surrounded him. Though his life was not at risk, endless trials awaited him.
The requirements set by Northern Crossing Immortal for the inheritors were exceedingly strict. Perhaps Northern Crossing Qing was unaware of the challenges ahead, but all he wanted now was to fight.
The Wangfeng Platform was eerily quiet, with everyone engrossed in their cultivation. No reminders or supervision were needed; each person devoted their utmost energy to their practice.
Among all on the Treasure Path, Zuo Dao appeared the most leisurely. He wandered here and there, like a tourist enjoying the sights.
After eliminating all visible strange creatures, Northern Crossing Qing's expression grew serious. The sound of synchronized footsteps from afar ignited a fire in his heart.
At that moment, Zuo Dao seemed to have found something entertaining and paused by a pond.
In the water was someone; Zuo Dao quickly recognized him as one of the Cultivators who had entered Xianzuka earlier. He looked down upon the figure below like a Divine Residence surveying its domain.
Luo Dong Shu was completely unaware that a pair of eyes was watching him from above. His attention was fully focused on an Ancient Beast not far in front of him.
Since stepping onto the stone steps and being transported to this mysterious space, he had been engaged in a game of wits and courage with this Ancient Beast.
Although he did not know what this Ancient Beast was called, it did not hinder his judgment. It was powerful—at least stronger than himself. Those who entered could be considered elite; he quickly grasped the meaning behind it.
Luo Dong Shu only wanted to pass this trial successfully. His purpose for entering was simple: to prove himself. Self-awareness is valuable, and he happened to embody that principle.
Regarding the relics of immortals, he held the belief that they were meant for him; if they were not, he would have no regrets. However, he never feared challenges.
The Ancient Beast undoubtedly existed. Throughout the period, he had employed countless methods—bait, traps, flanking maneuvers, ambushes—none of which could inflict harm upon it. At times, he nearly fell victim to this creature himself.
This was not a matter of pride; it was the heart of a strong individual.
Zuo Dao did not continue to observe; he never paid attention to what he already knew. As he moved forward, more and more pools appeared before him.
Each pool told a story, revealing the myriad states of the world’s Cultivators.
As he wandered and watched, these were merely pitiful pawns, lacking any ability to resist, forced to follow the paths laid out for them by others.
A rough count revealed nearly hundreds of pools, surpassing the total number of Cultivators he had encountered before. It was clear that such a toll had been paid.
Some pools were already abandoned, leaving behind only chaos or traces of blood; the fates of those individuals were all too predictable.
Zuo Dao's heart was as calm as an ancient well as he continued to observe until he finally stopped in front of one particular pool.
Beneath it lay Northern Crossing Qing, but at this moment, Northern Crossing Qing gave Zuo Dao a different impression—one of restraint. Unlike the previous flamboyance and fervor.
Northern Crossing Qing seemed like a different person altogether, an aura of iron-bloodedness subtly emanating from within. Only those who had fought on the battlefield understood how hard-earned this iron-blooded aura was.
At this moment, Northern Crossing Qing faced opponents that were squads, clearly belonging to the same War Department. However, a thousand-strong War Department gave him the illusion of a hundred thousand warriors.
They were extraordinarily powerful. What he did not know was that this War Department had a resounding title: the Army.
He was unaware that in ancient times, all similar War Departments were also referred to as armies. They were undoubtedly the main force among the celestial beings in the Ancient War and were among those who vanished most swiftly in that conflict.
If Northern Crossing Qing possessed an iron-blooded aura, then every member of this War Department was forged from countless battles. Though they stood still, their overwhelming murderous intent surged like a raging storm.
Zuo Dao was very satisfied to witness this scene of intimidation. He had thought he would remain bored until Northern Crossing Qing either obtained the inheritance or failed, allowing him to leave the Treasure Path.
But now, seeing such a Squad stirred excitement within him. He was a War Soul Master, and his level was quite high. However, upon seeing the War Department below, he realized how wrong he had been—terribly wrong.
Compared to the army, the Debate Squad's War Department seemed like a weak infant.
The battle ignited with Northern Crossing Qing's charge.
Although he was just one person, Northern Crossing Qing exuded an aura that could only be formed by thousands of troops.
"It seems this child has found his path! Indeed, growing through battle is the true way," Zuo Dao thought to himself.
Northern Crossing Qing, Beast Spear, Dragon's Dance. The synergy among the three was immensely powerful. The spear in his hand became increasingly agile, as if it were an extension of his arm. The Dragon's Art seemed tailor-made for him.
Yet, while he was strong, the War Department was even stronger. A strike that was as swift as lightning and as forceful as thunder fell upon a Squad but was shattered by a perfectly coordinated swing of a blade from the opposing side.
Zuo Dao felt that this battle group resembled an army far too much—uniform attire and standardized weapons set them apart from any combat unit he had ever seen.
Discipline, organization, unity, and coordination were all qualities that the current War Department could not compare to. Everyone knew that managing ten or a hundred people was easy, but once it exceeded five hundred, it became an immense undertaking—not to mention a War Department of nearly a thousand.
Zuo Dao was adept at learning; anything he deemed good would capture his attention for study. Just like the tactics employed by this military War Department now.
Indeed, it was tactics—different from formations. Any War Department formation evolved from tactics, achieved through generations of effort to reach its current height.
As for Northern Crossing Qing, Zuo Dao had no intention of offering any assistance, even when the opponent's weapon left a fatal scar on Northern Crossing Qing.
This world did not require sympathy; however, once you reached a certain height, you would understand how extravagant mercy truly was.
If most people were ordinary, there would be no way out. Although he didn't know if failing the assessment would lead to death, he understood that a failure would be a significant blow to him.
With death looming and life uncertain, Northern Crossing Qing's heart calmed down instead, losing the earlier turbulence. Everything before him was merely a pile of numbers, and all he had to do was erase that pile.
So far, no one from the Beidu Family had regarded him with any importance. Even though he was the first fortunate enough to enter the Light Screen, he could still feel the family's indifference.
This round of attacks was several times stronger than the first. If this War Department maintained its previous combat power after appearing, Northern Crossing Qing could confidently claim he could take them down single-handedly.
There was no chance to fight back; he was exhausted and on the run.
This wasn't the War Department; it was Northern Crossing Qing. He didn't know what methods the opponent used, but each time they managed to nullify his attacks as if they had never existed. The discomfort of misusing his strength was something no one who had experienced it would want to try again.
At that moment, he couldn't help but recall what he had seen of Zuo Dao earlier. If the opponent were in his environment now, what would that White-Clad Monk do?
A brief moment of distraction allowed the opponent to exploit a flaw, and a barrage of attacks shattered his defenses. By the time Northern Crossing Qing sought to salvage the situation, it was already too late.
The attacks fell like a dense rain of arrows; there was no stopping them, only retreating. His weapon drew a splash of blood before him as he desperately defended against frontal assaults. Yet some attacks still slipped through and struck him.
This was a battle of courage and strategy, and Zuo Dao watched from above with excitement. The military had opened a new window for him; in them, he saw the rise of Heterodox and its strength.
He even wanted to rush down and take Northern Crossing Qing's place. This was a golden opportunity! But he knew he couldn't intervene right now. However, he believed that in due time, Heterodox would surprise them all.
Every pool of water here represented a Cultivator who had stepped onto the Treasure Path. The space Zuo Dao occupied was their ultimate goal.
Zuo Dao still expressed respect for the fallen Cultivators. Regardless of their intentions, they had embarked on this path.
Treasure Path, Path of the Chosen. This was a secret unattainable by ordinary people; it marked the endpoint of this journey. Yet in Zuo Dao's vast memories, not a single one had reached that destination.
Although he wanted to try walking, doing so would inevitably contradict the will of the Northern Crossing Immortal, who had originally set this path. Moreover, Zuo Dao did not wish to encounter immortals too soon.
He felt too weak; his brothers and comrades were too weak.
Northern Crossing Qing was still fighting, but this time most of the blood he shed was his own. The enemy's strength exceeded his expectations. Any War Department, once it reached a certain number, became a nightmare for any individual warrior.
He finally felt the terror of this nightmare, yet his heart remained as calm as water, and the gun in his hand was still steady.
Only death meant surrender; as long as he drew breath, he would fight to the end.
The strength of his will correspondingly enhanced his combat power. Each time he danced on the edge of life and death, the sensations deeply stimulated his nerves, and he found that he had come to enjoy this feeling.
A smile gradually appeared on his face, and the wounds on his body were slowly diminishing.
None of this escaped Zuo Dao's gaze; Northern Crossing Qing's transformation brought him joy. He was not only happy for the other but also for the Northern Crossing Immortal.
The absence of successors was a sorrow for any strong warrior.
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