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墨書 Inktalez
Zhang Qian, who had never grown up in Light Path Classic, was perhaps the one who understood Yan Dong's Light Path Classic the best.
Yet, regardless of whether Liu Dong chose to leave, those who did had no right to speak of mistakes. Whether living in humiliation or dying gloriously, they all sought someone to take action. It was not about who was greater; in the past, they would become an indelible monument in each other's hearts, both striving for what seemed impossible.
The spaceship vanished into the clouds, and Cangqing Mountain ultimately drifted far from them. As Zhang Qian said, it would never return; there would be no chance to come back.
So who truly won in the beginning?
Holding his leg while writing a letter to Yang Yan, Ying Wuyi was just as curious as the children nearby who listened to Yang Yan's stories, eagerly wanting to know the answer.
Should they have stayed? They hadn’t written anything down, and after breaking through, the two of them hadn’t continued their journey eastward.
Sigh.
Disappointed by Yang Yan's explanation, everyone let out a long sigh, like the Meizhang blooming in late winter, now left with only fallen leaves.
The title of Tiandong First sounded appealing, but for Gasping, that lifetime was forever out of reach.
Ying Wuyi had been stuck at Peak of Golden Core for over a decade and still couldn't break through to Nascent Soul. He envied those like Gu Na, for whom breakthroughs seemed as easy as eating and drinking.
What made it unbearable for Ying Wuyi was that his old rival, Leng Gucun, had already broken through to Nascent Soul while he remained trapped at Peak of Golden Core. He had been lingering at that Daoist Sect threshold for too long; Si Dongli had already taken down countless small figures of Leng Gucun.
When would they be able to return? Should someone be sent to Imperial Capital Mountain to urge them?
Due to the influence of the old men outside the Ying Clan, the matter of Yin Tianheng establishing his own sect fell entirely on Ying Wuyi's shoulders. The letter mentioned that some disciples of the Light Path Classic sought to return to Yin Tianheng's command, becoming the backbone of the initial establishment of the Cultivation sect. This should also serve as a reminder that some matters need to be addressed soon.
The Great Qin Ying Clan could afford to dismiss an ordinary Mahayana Practitioner, but they could not afford to overlook a Mahayana Practitioner who had lived for over a hundred thousand years, nor could they disregard one capable of slaying True Immortals.
At this moment, the cooperative relationship between both sides was far from equal. On one side stood the Great Qin Empire, while on the other stood Yin Tianheng, resembling a tug-of-war match. One side had countless people pulling with all their might, while on the other side, it was just Yin Tianheng alone holding onto the rope.
If I don't deny it, how could Ying Zheng and Ying Zhu make the decision to cooperate with Yin Tianheng? How could they allow the Three Thousand Sharp Warriors to appear on the battlefield?
No one in Tiandi Dong had ever matched Yin Tianheng's capabilities—one man could stand against a million soldiers, and one man could make Sky East Dao Gate hesitate.
This is the strategic significance of an absolute powerhouse. Although the Ying Clan had Ying Zhu and Tai Xu Dao had Mu Yangxu, none could remain in this world for as long as Yin Tianheng nor could anyone wield their sword to slay True Immortals like he did.
At this moment, Yin Tianheng had become the greatest obstacle in the plan to unify Daoist Sects in Tiandong. No matter which Daoist Sect it was, they could not bypass that hard and foul-smelling stone.
It’s fine; it wouldn’t be too late to discuss it when he returns.
Yang Yan, who often dealt with officials from Great Jin, kept quiet for his own reasons. Just like at this moment when Ying Wuyi understood Yang Yan's words and I don't deny that he really didn’t want to rush him; it would have been mere politeness. If he took it seriously, it would seem somewhat childish.
It’s also good that Bu Luo I don't deny wishes to clear away the weeds around Imperial Capital Mountain sooner so that those children can have a real home.
Hmm, Yang Yan nodded, hoping that the person sent back with news would return soon.
Standing high above and overlooking Zhu Xian Mountain was Tenglan, known as Zhongshang. He had lost count of how many times he had heard the deafening battle cries from the east. It felt like a liquid burden haunting him, lingering before his eyes. Even during his cultivation and breathing exercises for Spiritual Energy, such scenes would emerge in his heart.
The ground was filled with soldiers, resembling two different species of ants, each fighting fiercely for their territory.
This battle was not just about land, food, or life and death; it was a struggle that would determine the fate of countless lives.
Tenglan, known as Zhongshang, wondered how long he could endure in such an environment. Fortunately, a few days ago, after mobilizing the troops to prepare for a desperate defense of the An Pass, Xiao Zhang had brought the majority of the Cheng Dao Sect's forces to the front lines. This allowed Tenglan to rest for a couple of days, alleviating some of the pressure brought on by Yi Dong's prolonged stalemate.
Bu Luo had left Teng Min feeling helpless, and what angered him most was that Zhu Xian Mountain was actually using the bloodshed of the battlefield to enhance their cultivation. In Tenglan's eyes, how was this different from the methods of a Demonic Cultivator?
As the war progressed, Tenglan found himself uncertain about his chances against the butcher from Zhu Xian Mountain. Perhaps he had only a thirty percent chance of victory—or even less than ten percent.
As the attacking side, Zhu Xian Mountain held absolute initiative. At that moment, they looked on with a smirk, savoring the sight of Tenglan across from them.
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