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墨書 Inktalez
Zhao Yang did not dare to disturb anyone else and made his way to the desolate outskirts of Yuwang City, guided by the Spirit Pearl. Outside the city, the scene was bleak; a few beggars were huddled together on a slope, their brows furrowed tightly.
It was late autumn, and frost blanketed the fields. For ordinary people without any cultivation, such harsh cold could easily lead to death in their sleep during an unknowing early morning.
These beggars had grown accustomed to such hardships. They lived with gnawing hunger and never expected a better tomorrow. When they woke in the morning, their first task was to rouse their companions. If one of them had passed away, they would not cry; instead, they would leave their companion lying there for the authorities to collect the body or carry them to a deep pit or river and toss them in. Both burial and cremation required considerable physical effort, which could cost them their own lives.
They nestled together, their hair damp with dew, some strands twisted together, showing signs of neglect for quite some time.
Among them was a small boy of about seven or eight years old, curled up in the middle of the group, shivering. His long eyelashes were wet—unclear whether from tears or dew—and his dirty little face had lips that were slightly blue. His small hands were clenched tightly as if grasping onto a lifeline.
Zhao Yang waved his hand, creating a dome of True Qi above the beggars. Inside this protective barrier, warmth enveloped them like spring. The tension in their brows eased slightly, and their bodies stopped trembling. However, one man suddenly awoke with a start. He jumped up and grabbed a sharpened iron rod nearby, charging at Zhao Yang who stood not far from them. Years of suffering had made him accustomed to a life without proper clothing; a moment of comfort startled him awake—he was the leader of these people.
But when this man saw Zhao Yang, he suddenly broke down in tears. Yes, he recognized him—the one who had taken their leader away.
“Riley, how can you be here? Didn’t I drive away those who oppressed you in the city?” Zhao Yang was surprised that Riley still hadn’t found a better life.
Riley quickly knelt before Zhao Yang and began waking his still-sleeping companions. Some among them remembered Zhao Yang’s face—the big brother who had helped chase away the bad guys and taken them to eat at an inn.
But then, a flash of lightning struck out; Riley's head was blown off instantly, reduced to nothing but a bloody mess.
Zhao Yang was enraged by this sudden turn of events. How dare someone kill right under his nose—especially someone as defenseless as an ordinary person!
A figure radiating dazzling white light appeared not far away, hovering above a grave with a staff in hand. He looked like a young man with a muscular upper body and loose pants below. He had no eyebrows; two black dots above his eyes resembled ancient runes. His body was adorned with clear patterns of runes that faintly crackled with electricity.
“Who are you? Why do you kill indiscriminately?” Zhao Yang’s voice turned cold. Riley was merely Li Yunshan’s subordinate; although Li Yunshan had indirectly died by his hand, Zhao Yang was not heartless. He felt some pity for old acquaintances—especially since these people revered him like a deity—how could he not be furious?
The floating man replied lazily, “Compared to our divine race, the lives and deaths of these pitiful and humble ants are utterly insignificant. Killing them might even be helping them.”
“Then why don’t you help yourself? Divine race? How ridiculous,” Zhao Yang scoffed. He had always looked down upon those who considered themselves superior; if he could kill, he would.
The man in the air said, “I can sense your strong intent to kill me, but I must tell you that in my eyes, you are nothing more than a slightly larger bug compared to an ant. Look, I only need to move my finger to kill an ant.”
As he spoke, he flicked his fingers lightly several times, and those who were frozen in place were obliterated into pieces, their remains flickering with residual lightning.
Zhao Yang swiftly moved the little boy from the group of beggars to his side, shielding him behind himself at the moment the man struck. He hesitated to act immediately because he sensed the immense power of the person before him; this individual was at the Tribulation Period! Although he had heard from the Elder that the King of Participation Becomes a Saint could resurrect some who failed their Transcend Tribulation, he never expected someone would find him so soon.
"Woo, he killed Brother Riley, he killed Brother Er Gou and Brother Da Zhu," the little boy cried, wiping his tears.
"Who are you, and why do you attack ordinary people?" Zhao Yang demanded.
The man appeared indifferent, slowly drifting toward Zhao Yang as he replied, "Who I am is not important. What matters is who you are. I can see that your Spiritual Root is chaotic, with over a dozen types, perhaps even more. Yet you have reached the Nascent Soul Stage; this is truly astonishing. In this world where Spirit Energy is depleted, for someone with such a mixed Spiritual Root to cultivate to this level means you are not an ordinary person."
"Does it matter to you whether I am ordinary or not?" Zhao Yang asked, staring at the approaching figure.
"Of course. Not only does it matter, but it is extremely important because anyone who can converse with me must be a prodigy of heaven and earth or someone close to my divine lineage; otherwise, they wouldn't even qualify to speak with me." The man's demeanor was proud and cold, his voice unchanged and dismissive of everyone around him.
After speaking, he looked up at the sky and sighed, "The Demon Moon once prevented my Transcend Tribulation and Ascend, causing me to fail. It’s pitiful that after researching the Thunder Path for hundreds of years and finally catching a glimpse of its Essence, this wicked woman destroyed it all. I had no choice but to seal myself in a spirit mine for ten thousand years. Do you know how I have lived these ten thousand years? No, you don’t. Now that the legend of 'King of Participation Becomes a Saint' and 'Heavenly Herb Immortal' has come true, I—the Thunder God—will revive and become the ruler of this realm." As he proclaimed himself Thunder God, his eyes suddenly widened in madness as he pointed at Zhao Yang. "And you are a follower of the Ginseng King!"
Whoosh!
A blade of lightning shot from Thunder God's finger as Zhao Yang vanished from sight.
"Transform into Sheep!" In mid-air, Zhao Yang executed the Transform into Sheep Technique. He could not handle such a powerful opponent; he needed a decisive strike. With the little boy still on his back, Zhao Yang had no choice but to carry him along.
Under the weight of his massive fist, which weighed millions of pounds due to the method of size manipulation, Thunder God was enveloped beneath Zhao Yang's punch for three seconds by Absolute Sheep Transformation—surely it would land a fatal blow!
Thud!
A sound like a long knife piercing flesh came from Zhao Yang's body, causing his punch to veer off course. The million-pound fist could not be retracted in time; Zhao Yang's bones were severely strained as he let out a roar that sent the little boy flying off his back.
The boy's eyes glowed red as he laughed heartily.
"Why?" Zhao Yang was confused; why did this little boy suddenly go mad? He hadn’t sensed anyone using Mind Control on him.
The little boy looked up with an innocent smile, wiping his tears as he said, "Brother, did I trick you? This is so much fun!"
"Who exactly are you?" Zhao Yang demanded, for this child was also in his Divine Sense as a Tribulation Period expert!
"How could this be? Is there something wrong with my perception? Clearly, he is just a child, how could he possibly be a master of the Tribulation Period? Even if the Ginseng King’s aura has revived them, how could two appear here at once?"
Suddenly, the boy's expression darkened. "Because he and I are from the same era, while you are the son of the Ginseng King. I sense that you are more dangerous than this so-called Thunder God, so of course, I must deal with you first. It is said that those who follow the Ten Thousand Year Ginseng King are unparalleled geniuses among millions. I didn’t expect to awaken so close to you and directly sense your presence. Brother, do you know that because of your existence, all those who have failed to Transcend Tribulation for thousands of years have been revived? This world is doomed."
Zhao Yang drew the blade from his back, blood spilling from his mouth as his face turned pale. He never expected that the person before him, who kept calling him brother, was actually an Old Demon. He spat at the boy and said, "You pervert!"
"You! How dare you call me a pervert! Do you know that the thing I hate most is being called a pervert?" The boy suddenly bared his fangs, glaring at Zhao Yang with a fierce expression.
Not far away, at the edge of a deep pit, a ball of white light began to rise. The Thunder God's eyes were bloodshot; he was somewhat agitated as he looked at the injured Zhao Yang. "You actually hurt me? They say that those who possess the Ginseng King have the ability to defy fate and change their destiny—geniuses! Ha! How ridiculous! I’ve been injured."
As he spoke, a tear fell from his eye. His voice turned harsh as he shouted, "No one has ever been able to hurt me! Not even Demon Moon!" He suddenly pointed at the boy below. "And you—how could you possibly claim to be from the same era as me?"
After finishing his words, the Thunder God seemed on the verge of madness. He raised his staff high; a hexagram pattern appeared on the ground, and countless bolts of lightning suddenly shot up from below with incredible speed. Both Zhao Yang and the boy were pierced by the lightning. Even with Zhao Yang having received the true teachings of Nine Heavens Thunder Control Formula, he had no time to react. The boy was also struck by lightning but fell quietly to the side like a feather.
"I only acknowledged you as a senior because I thought we were from the same era. If you don’t recognize what’s good for you, I don’t mind sending you to hell!" The boy looked up at the Thunder God in the sky.
"Oh?" The Thunder God glanced sideways at the boy. "Then let’s see!"
Lazily waving his hand, a bolt of thunder descended from above. The boy hurriedly dodged to the side as thunder struck where he had been standing, leaving behind a charred mark.
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