Chapter Six: Wang Sheng, the Rogue Cultivator
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Third floor, a certain inn within Chang’an City.
Inside a private room.
Darkness enveloped everything in the chamber, as several figures wearing black cloaks stood amidst what seemed an abandoned space.
If one did not look closely, it would be nearly impossible to discern the situation inside.
Of course, this was true only from the outside; for those within, it was as if they stood in a fragrant, birdsong-filled forest.
Great cultivators could alter heaven and earth—this was not without basis.
“I truly wonder where these Dark Magic shadow cultivators have come from!” A deep, booming voice issued from a figure whose stature was exceptionally imposing.
Had Tianming been present, he would have been utterly astonished, for these individuals possessed vast and unfathomable auras, profound mastery of their inner power, and the composure of old monsters. They far surpassed the five experts he met aboard the ship, each one a once-in-a-century top-tier, perhaps even peerless Golden Core master of the martial world.
“According to reliable sources, the Dark Magic shadow cultivators have already seized the Southern Wilderness continent. They will soon mobilize again, and their next target may well be…”
A cold voice abruptly halted.
The assembly understood what this meant...
Although they might flee to other continents, they knew well the principle of mutual dependence; as denizens of the Heavenly Star, how could they sit by and watch disaster unfold?
Yet, at this moment, none could think of a solution, and apart from the venerable elder seated at the head, anxiety weighed on the hearts of all.
Though their black cloaks concealed most features, a shock of white hair remained the sole beacon in that world of darkness.
“A world that appears caught in a deadlock is in fact suffused with the stirrings of life. Though calamity arises in the south, the stars shine with exceptional brilliance—this is fate.”
“What does the Master of Dawn mean?”
“The workings of heaven cannot be revealed.”
“Could you perhaps share a hint?”
“Today, a person of great fortune will descend upon Chang’an City in the Xianfeng District.”
...
Border port of Xianfeng District.
A stunningly beautiful woman of graceful bearing led a seven- or eight-year-old girl by the hand. Both were exquisitely dressed, their every gesture exuding a subtle air of nobility.
“Goodbye, uncle!”
The pure, childish voice startled Tianming from his reverie, making him realize he had been sitting on the ground for quite some time.
“Thank you.” Raising his head, Tianming, deeply moved, hurried to express his gratitude.
Yet as he looked up, he saw that the woman who had tossed him a gold coin was already leading her young companion onto a ship.
Dora: “$$_$$—what a stroke of luck, money at first sight!”
“There’s something I’d like to say…” Tianming stood up, looking somewhat gloomy.
Dora: “Are you thinking of developing this skill?”
“Go play somewhere else!”
...
Without intention, Tianming had been mistaken for something else; perhaps Dora had orchestrated this, given its earlier suggestion.
Though he wondered about it, Tianming said nothing, trusting in fate and going with the flow. At least, he’d gotten a gold coin for free, though its exact worth eluded him.
“Chang’an City.”
Unconsciously, Tianming soon found himself before the city gates.
Before him unfolded a scene unlike any he had ever witnessed.
People came and went in a ceaseless stream, merchants moving in and out, while streaks of light occasionally flashed overhead, descending before the gate.
Warriors stood straight and vigilant on either side of the gates, their auras unfathomable to Tianming.
“Look, those are members of the Heavenly Sword Sect!”
“…Could they be from the sect led by the renowned Tianhao Long?”
“Indeed.”
“Something major is about to happen. I wonder how many factions have arrived—two of the four great sects are already here.”
“Who cares, just enjoy the spectacle.”
...
The murmurs drew many eyes skyward.
Moments later, clusters of handsome young men and women soared on swords through the brilliant blue sky, transforming into dazzling streaks of color as they descended from the clouds.
“Gulp!” Tianming watched with envy, swallowing repeatedly.
These young men and women, radiant with smiles and elegance, drew everyone’s attention. Their attire was sumptuous, the swords on their backs exquisitely crafted and impossibly sharp.
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Truly, this was a world of cultivation.
Even outside Chang’an, the city was bustling.
Who knew what awaited within?
But Tianming was certain that, sooner or later, he would become like them—or perhaps even surpass them—for he had ample confidence: Dora’s protection.
...
“Make way! Make way!”
Just then, a voice rang out, and a team with a temperament wholly unlike that of the Heavenly Sword Sect approached from the dock.
Perhaps by coincidence, the Heavenly Sword Sect occupied most of the road, forcing the carriages from the dock to head straight toward Tianming’s position.
“Are you looking for death?”
With a curse, the dazed Tianming—still mesmerized by the Heavenly Sword Sect—had not expected to see carriages in a world without technology and was knocked to the ground in a stumble.
Fortunately, it was only a glancing blow. Had his body not been strengthened by Dora, he might have died.
“Damn, rushing so fast—are they in a hurry for reincarnation?” The collision left Tianming’s mind blank, and he couldn’t help but curse.
His words caused the surrounding area to fall silent.
...
The carriage slowed to a halt. A man quickly dismounted and carefully lifted the curtain.
Without hesitation, he knelt down, serving as a step for the passenger inside, who emerged with practiced ease.
As the figure alighted, murmurs erupted all around.
“Isn’t that Qilian Chuang, the eldest son of the Qilian family?”
“I hear he’s already at the fourth level of Foundation Establishment, and an outer disciple of the Myriad Phenomena Sect.”
“Heh, this should be interesting.”
...
“Master.”
The man stepped on showed no trace of humiliation, maintaining a calm expression as he followed.
Qilian Chuang ignored the crowd, rapidly gathering primordial energy in his hand. A purple palm imprint pressed down on his attendant, who did not resist and immediately spat blood.
“Useless!” Without a backward glance, Qilian Chuang strode toward Tianming.
“Do you know who I am? How dare you block my path? Don’t you realize I’m from the Qilian family, a disciple of the Myriad Phenomena Sect?”
Qilian Chuang was extravagantly dressed, adorned with gold and jade, walking with a haughty air that radiated nouveau riche arrogance.
It was rumored the Myriad Phenomena Sect accepted only noble scions; most were arrogant and despised by commoners. Yet their immense wealth forced others to bear it in silence. Tianming was simply unlucky to have crossed his path.
“Oh, so you’re from the Qilian family’s Myriad Phenomena Sect—Qili Shui Ma. My apologies. But since when did Chang’an’s roads belong to your family? You knock me down without an apology—how impressive.” Tianming smiled coldly and saluted.
His expression was one of sudden realization and admiration; anyone would have believed him.
“Hmph, just a mere martial artist, daring to boast. Blocking my way is courting death, and you expect an apology? Are you worthy? Your whole family isn’t worthy!” Qilian Chuang sneered, glaring at Tianming and cursing loudly.
Though he didn’t fully understand Tianming’s words, their tone was deeply unpleasant. To Qilian Chuang, this man was simply opposing him.
“I sense your words are baseless, a distraction, pure imagination, fabrication, speechless and hopeless—a sign of mental illness, a dog in human form, spouting obscenities.” Tianming looked down at Qilian Chuang, expressionless and imposing.
“What does that mean?” The barrage of idioms left Qilian Chuang bewildered.
Tianming: “I won’t stoop to argue with a dog.”
Though no one spoke, their barely suppressed laughter confirmed Tianming’s point.
“You…” Qilian Chuang’s face flushed red, like a boiling kettle, but his lack of words left him stammering.
“What ‘you’? I have a name—Tianming. Farewell.” Before Qilian Chuang could finish, Tianming cut him off.
Though outwardly calm, Tianming was inwardly nervous.
One wrong step and he’d be in trouble, though he had a backup plan.
...
Tianming: “Dora, assist me quickly.”
Dora: “Ta-da! Bamboo-copter. No need for instructions, right?”
Tianming: “Got it.”
...
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As Tianming spoke his first line to ‘Qili Shui Ma,’ he was already in contact with Dora. Just as he was about to say “farewell,” a green, propeller-like device appeared atop his head.
The suddenness left Qilian Chuang staring in shock—and so did the onlookers, including the Heavenly Sword Sect members, all with mouths agape.
Before anyone could react, Qilian Chuang saw Tianming soaring a hundred meters into the air.
“Damn, what bad luck.” He slapped his attendant, face twisted in fury, teeth clenched as he glared upward.
He might have been able to attack Tianming initially, but with only fourth-level Foundation Establishment, his primordial energy could extend only forty meters. Tianming was well beyond his reach.
“Hahaha…”
Seeing the helpless Qilian Chuang below, and the dumbfounded crowd, Tianming burst into laughter.
It wouldn’t be long before he was dazzling and admired.
Tianming: “Dora, well done!”
Dora: “Of course!”
Tianming...
A few words of praise and he was airborne, though the color was a little unfriendly.
But it was compact, and its speed exceeded Tianming’s expectations—ten meters per second.
While Tianming rejoiced at his escape, the crowd below erupted.
“Whoa, when did such a treasure appear on the continent?”
“A martial artist of the first rank—he’s probably hiding his true strength.”
“Qilian Chuang really is useless, haha…”
...
“Shut up, all of you!”
Qilian Chuang’s teeth ground audibly, fury boiling inside him like an over-pressurized boiler, and the voices around him only fueled the fire.
“Heh, the Qilian family’s dog is certainly fierce.”
Qilian Chuang: “Which bastard dares treat me like this?”
“Myriad Phenomena Fist!”
The insults were one thing, but to shout them so loudly—primordial energy gathered swiftly in his hand, and Qilian Chuang hurled a punch at the crowd behind him.
He’d been careless before, but now, he wouldn’t let it slide.
“Clang!”
Just as Qilian Chuang’s punch was about to connect, a golden shield materialized like a chasm, blocking his fist that could shatter stone.
“Damn!” Qilian Chuang tried to retract his punch, but it was as if he’d struck a swamp, impossible to withdraw.
“What a pity—just a second-level practitioner. Perhaps at fifth level, you could contend with me.” A tall, imposing figure stood before Qilian Chuang, carrying a massive iron sword on his back, eyes sharp and brimming with murderous intent.
He was even taller than Tianming’s three-meter frame, exuding a killing aura that marked him as a walking weapon.
If Wang Sheng used the sword he carried, no one doubted Qilian Chuang would be cleaved in two.
...
“It’s Wang Sheng!”
“Haha, so it’s him.”
“They say he’s a rogue cultivator, a close friend of the Heavenly Sword Sect’s young master, and long ago reached the Spirit Void realm. His current power is unimaginable.”
“Yes, and he’s constantly challenged himself, defeating countless opponents stronger than him. His combat experience is extraordinary.”
“My god, now, unless someone is a full realm above him, no one could defeat him.”
...
“Please, spare me, elder!”
At this moment, Qilian Chuang’s heart raced, hands and feet helpless, mind blank except for the instinct to beg for mercy, his body tense as a drawn bow.
“Get lost. If I see you arrogant again, I won’t spare you.”
Without even glancing at him, Wang Sheng’s golden arm flashed, and Qilian Chuang was sent flying, crashing straight into the city wall ten miles away, leaving a deep imprint before falling.
Were it not for instructions to avoid excessive bloodshed, Wang Sheng’s usual practice would have been to kill him.
“Ugh!”
As he fell from the wall, a meter-high spurt of blood gushed from Qilian Chuang’s mouth like a fountain.
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