Chapter 6371 - 6380
Lin Yuan pointed at Kai, “This is Kai, someone Master found from the Fifteenth Heaven. He says he can help us overthrow the God Clan Alliance.”
Old Zhao opened his mouth, then laughed out loud, “Him? A second-grade True Immortal?”
He turned to look at Lin Yuan, his expression as if he were watching a joke, “Chief, are you sure you’re not mistaken? Anyone from our Free Valley has a higher cultivation level than him. What can he do for us? Serve us tea and water?”
Several people followed into the hall, all key members of Free Valley.
A tall, thin man, a sixth-grade True Immortal, wore a gray cloth Taoist robe and held a folding fan, looking quite scholarly.
A middle-aged woman, a fifth-grade True Immortal, had two short swords hanging at her waist, and sharp eyes.
There was also an old man, with gray hair and a seventh-grade True Immortal, leaning against the doorframe, squinting at Kai.
They all laughed when they heard Old Zhao’s words.
Not a malicious laugh, but a laugh of absurdity.
A young man at the second rank of True Immortal Realm came to the Sixteenth Heaven to say he wanted to help them overthrow the God Alliance. It was like an ant asking an elephant to move a mountain.
Kai didn’t laugh.
He looked at Old Zhao, his voice calm, “You think the fifth rank of True Immortal Realm is that powerful?” Old Zhao was taken aback.
“What do you mean?”
Kai beckoned to him. “You make your move, with all your might.”
The hall was silent for a moment, then Old Zhao’s face darkened.
He couldn’t stand being looked down upon, especially by a mere second-rank True Immortal Realm brat.
He rolled up his sleeves, his fists clenched so tightly they cracked.
“Kid, one punch from me and you might be bedridden for three months.”
“You can’t hit me.”
Old Zhao didn’t waste any more words.
He took a step forward, his fist enveloped in a layer of earthy yellow light, and slammed it towards Kai’s chest.
His technique was earth-based, heavy and steady; a single punch could pierce even a city wall.
The air in the hall was stirred by the force of his punch, and the map on the table rustled.
Kai didn’t dodge.
He didn’t even raise his hand.
He simply stood there, watching the fist draw ever closer.
The fist stopped three inches from Kai’s chest.
It wasn’t that Old Zhao stopped on his own; he simply couldn’t penetrate it.
His fist felt like it had struck an invisible wall, an impenetrable, unyielding wall.
His wrist was numb from the impact, the muscles in his arm trembled, but his fist simply wouldn’t go in an inch.
Old Zhao’s eyes widened.
He gritted his teeth, adding even more force, the yellowish-brown light in his eyes doubling in brightness.
The fist still wouldn’t budge.
“This…this is impossible…” his voice trembled.
Kai looked at him, saying nothing.
He simply took a small step forward.
Old Zhao felt as if he’d been struck head-on by a mountain; he was sent flying, tumbling twice in the air before landing on his backside, sliding several meters away, overturning a chair in the corner.
The hall fell silent.
The tall, thin man closed his folding fan, his smile vanishing.
The middle-aged woman’s hand rested on the hilt of her knife, her gaze turning serious.
The old man leaning against the doorframe opened his eyes, no longer squinting, but staring straight at Kai.
Old Zhao got up from the ground, dusted off his backside, and his expression changed from shock to disbelief.
He looked at his fist, then at Kai, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly before finally managing to utter, “You F*cking really are a True Immortal Realm Second Grade?”
Kai didn’t answer.
He looked at the tall, thin man, “Want to try too?”
The tall, thin man hesitated.
He was a True Immortal Realm Sixth Grade, a realm higher than Old Zhao, and considered a prominent figure in Freedom Valley.
If he were intimidated by a young man at the True Immortal Realm Second Grade, how could he face anyone in the future?
He tucked his folding fan into his collar, stretched his wrists, and walked up to Kai.
“Brother Chen, my specialty is speed, so be careful.”
Before he finished speaking, his figure vanished.
Not the slow kind of invisibility, but a speed so fast that it was impossible for the naked eye to detect.
Only a blurry shadow remained in the hall, darting from left to right, from right to left, like a ghost.
Kai stood rooted to the spot, not even blinking.
The tall, thin man appeared behind Kai, pointing a finger at the back of his neck.
This finger carried a sharp spiritual power, enough to pierce a steel plate.
A smug smile appeared on his face, thinking that even if this finger couldn’t knock Kai down, it would at least make him take a few steps back.
But when his finger touched the back of Kai’s neck, it felt as if he had touched nothing at all.
Not that he had missed, but that all the spiritual power at his fingertip had vanished, as if swallowed by something.
Kai’s neck didn’t budge, not even the skin dented.
The tall, thin man’s smile froze.
He pointed again, with the same feeling.
He pointed again, still no reaction.
Kai turned around and looked at him, “Is that enough?”
The tall, thin man swallowed hard, quickly took two steps back, and cupped his hands, saying, “Enough, enough, Brother Chen, you have good skills.”
The middle-aged woman’s lips twitched as she watched this scene.
She was a True Immortal Realm Fifth Grade, the same realm as Old Zhao, and was skilled with dual swords.
She had initially considered going up to try, but seeing the fates of Old Zhao and the tall, thin man, she decided not to embarrass herself.
She lowered her hand from the hilt of her knife and took a half-step back.
The old man leaning against the doorframe, however, straightened up.
He stretched his neck, making a cracking sound, and then slowly walked up to Kai.
“Young man, my name is Old Xu, a seventh-grade True Immortal.”
His voice was hoarse, like sandpaper rubbing together. “I cultivate fire-based techniques, and I have a bad temper. If you can’t handle it, just say so.”
Kai looked at him. “Please.”
Old Xu didn’t stand on ceremony.
He raised his right hand, a ball of crimson flame coalescing in his palm. The flame was incredibly hot, so hot that the surrounding air began to distort, and the edges of the map on the table began to curl.
People in the hall retreated hastily, some fanning themselves, others channeling their inner energy to resist the heat.
“Be careful!” Old Xu slammed his palm down.
The crimson flame transformed into a fiery serpent, baring its fangs and claws as it lunged at Kai.
Wherever the serpent passed, the air ignited, producing a series of crackling sounds.
The power of this palm strike was several times stronger than Old Zhao and the tall, thin man combined.
Kai looked at the fiery serpent, a slight smile playing on his lips.
He raised his right hand, fingers spread, palm facing the fiery serpent.
The fiery serpent collided with his palm.
Then, the fiery serpent vanished.
Not blocked, not dispersed, but as if sucked in, silently disappearing into Kai’s palm.
The crimson flame, along with all the spiritual energy it contained, was swallowed up by Kai’s palm, leaving not even a spark behind.
Old Xu’s pupils contracted.
He had cultivated his flames for thousands of years and had never encountered anything like this before.
His flames weren’t extinguished, but devoured.
It felt as if his flames had encountered a higher-level flame, completely suppressed, swallowed, and assimilated.
“Your fire…” Old Xu’s voice trembled slightly, “What kind of fire is this?”
Kai withdrew his hand, “Chaotic Fire.”
Old Xu’s expression changed.
He didn’t attack again, but took two steps back and bowed deeply to Kai. “This old man was blind to your greatness, Mr. Chen, please forgive me.”
The hall fell completely silent.
Three experts—a fifth, sixth, and seventh-grade True Immortal—each stronger than the last, yet none could withstand a single move from Kai.
Moreover, Kai hadn’t launched an attack from beginning to end; he simply stood there, letting them beat him.
This kind of strength couldn’t be measured by ordinary standards.
Lin Yuan’s expression was complex.
He knew his master wouldn’t lie to him, but witnessing this scene firsthand still felt somewhat unreal.
A young man at the second rank of True Immortal Realm stood there motionless, enduring the full force of an attack from a seventh-rank True Immortal Realm cultivator, without even a tear in his clothes.
If word got out, the entire Sixteenth Heaven would be shaken.
“Anyone else want to try?” Kai looked around.
No one spoke.
Old Zhao lowered his head, his face flushed red.
The tall, thin man repeatedly pulled out and put back his folding fan.
The middle-aged woman crossed her arms, pretending to look at the map on the wall.
Old Xu had already retreated outside the door frame, hands behind his back, looking at the sky.
Lin Yuan took a deep breath and walked up to Kai. “I’ll try.”
Everyone in the hall looked up at Lin Yuan.
Old Zhao opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again.
The tall, thin man’s folding fan fell to the ground with a thud.
The middle-aged woman’s hand returned to the hilt of her knife.
Old Xu poked his head in from outside the door frame, his eyes wide like copper bells.
Lin Yuan was at the peak of the eighth rank of True Immortal Realm, the number one expert in Freedom Valley, and the strongest person in the entire resistance army.
He cultivated a pure Yang technique, extremely powerful and fierce, each punch and kick carrying earth-shattering force.
He rarely fought personally, because no one in the entire Free Valley could withstand three of his moves.
“Leader, are you going to fight personally?” Old Zhao couldn’t help but ask.
Lin Yuan ignored him.
He looked at Kai, his eyes serious, “Kai, I won’t hold back.”
Kai nodded, “No need to hold back.”
Lin Yuan said nothing more. He raised his right hand, a ball of golden light condensing in his palm.
That light wasn’t the holy light of the gods, but a purer, more powerful force, like the blazing sun, like thunder.
The temperature in the hall instantly rose several degrees, the map on the table began to smoke, and dust on the walls was shaken off.
Old Zhao, the tall, thin man, the middle-aged woman, Old Xu—everyone held their breath.
They had never seen Lin Yuan so serious.
In the past, Lin Yuan would just casually wave his hand and send people away, but this time, he was gathering his strength, taking an opponent seriously.
The golden light grew brighter and more dazzling, bathing the entire hall in gold.
Lin Yuan unleashed a palm strike.
The golden palm print hurtled towards Kai’s chest with lightning speed, tearing the air apart and emitting a piercing shriek.
The palm print was covered in dense runes, each containing pure Yang energy, enough to pulverize a small mountain.
Kai didn’t dodge.
He didn’t even raise his hand.
He simply stood there, watching the golden palm print, a slight smile playing on his lips.
Purple chaotic energy surged from his body, condensing into a thin shield of light before him.
The shield was incredibly thin, almost transparent, yet it shimmered with a quiet, profound purple light, like a bottomless lake.
The golden palm print struck the shield.
There was no explosion, no loud bang.
The palm print was like a mud ox entering the sea before the chaotic energy, instantly swallowed, absorbed, and dissipated.
The light shield remained completely still, and Kai stood rooted to the spot, not even the hem of his robe fluttering.
The hall was deathly silent.
Lin Yuan’s hand was still raised in mid-air, his expression shifting from seriousness to shock.
His palm print, his full-force strike, was enough to send anyone below the ninth rank of the True Immortal Realm flying.
But Kai hadn’t even moved.
Old Zhao’s mouth gaped open enough to fit a fist.
The tall, thin man’s folding fan fell to the ground; he forgot to pick it up.
The middle-aged woman’s hand slipped from the hilt of her knife; she was completely stunned.
Old Xu walked in from outside the doorway, his eyes fixed on Kai, muttering to himself.
Bing Wuhen’s hands trembled. He knew Kai was strong, but this was the first time he had witnessed Kai in action.
A peak second-rank True Immortal Realm cultivator, he had withstood a full-force attack from a peak eighth-rank True Immortal Realm cultivator, unscathed. This wasn’t strength; this was monster.
Bing Xue’er’s mouth gaped open enough to fit an egg.
Bing Fenghan’s eyes widened, and the ice spear in his hand nearly fell to the ground.
Jiang Xuelan watched Kai’s retreating figure, a slight smile playing on her lips.
She had witnessed Kai’s three-day, three-night battle with the Judgment Venerable in the Fifteenth Heaven, seen him single-handedly slay five Upper Realm God Clan cultivators with his sword, and seen him crush spies into dust using the essence of space.
But every time she saw him fight, she was still awestruck.
Kai withdrew his light shield and looked at Lin Yuan. “Is that enough?”
Lin Yuan remained silent for a long time.
He slowly lowered his hand, the golden light in his palm gradually dissipating.
He took a deep breath, exhaled, and then smiled.
That smile contained bitterness, relief, and above all, an indescribable emotion.
“That’s enough.” His voice was somewhat hoarse. “Master was right, you are indeed the person we need.”
Old Zhao picked up the fallen chair from the ground, plopped down, and buried his head in his hands. “My god, a True Immortal Realm Second Grade, withstood the leader’s full-force palm strike. I’ve wasted these past few thousand years.”
The tall, thin man bent down to pick up a folding fan, opening and closing it repeatedly, his expression as if he were dreaming.
“My finger touched his neck, and all my spiritual power vanished. Vanished, you understand? It was like… like his body was a bottomless pit, swallowing all my spiritual power.”
The middle-aged woman finally removed her hand from the hilt of her sword, leaned against the wall, and let out a long sigh. “Luckily I didn’t go. Otherwise, I would have been utterly humiliated.” Old
Xu walked up to Kai and bowed respectfully. “Mr. Chen, I have cultivated fire-based techniques for three thousand years, and I considered myself to have reached a high level. But after seeing your Chaos Fire today, I realize what it means to be outmatched. I admire you, I admire you.”
Kai helped him up. “Old Xu, you’re too kind.”
Lin Yuan walked to the table and pointed to a mark on the map.
“The Divine Alliance has three major prisons in the Sixteenth Heaven, holding tens of thousands of non-divine cultivators.
Some are resistance fighters, some are captured rogue cultivators, and some are survivors of extermination. They are treated like slaves in the prisons, and many die every day.”
His finger pointed to the red mark.
“This is the prison closest to Freedom Valley, called Black Rock Prison. It holds at least five hundred human cultivators.
We want to rescue them, but the prison guards are too strong. The warden is an eighth-grade True Immortal, with thousands of divine cultivators under his command. There are also ancient restrictions around the prison.
We have tried three times, and all three times we failed, and many people died.”
He looked up at Kai.
“Master said you can help us. If you can help me rescue those people, I will believe you.” Kai stared at the red marker on the map, remaining silent for a moment. “How many people do you need?”
Lin Yuan was taken aback. “What?”
“How many people do you need to rescue those people?” Kai looked at him. “How many people are you planning to take?”
Lin Yuan thought for a moment. “At least two hundred. There are too many guards in the prison. We need someone to hold them off, someone to break the restrictions, and someone to rescue them.”
Kai shook his head. “Not two hundred. Me, Jiang Xuelan, and Bing Wuhen—three people are enough.”
Lin Yuan frowned. “Three people? Are you crazy? That’s a prison for the gods. There are thousands of guards, including a warden at the eighth rank of the True Immortal Realm…”
“I know,”
Kai interrupted him. “But taking two hundred people will be too conspicuous. We’ll be discovered before we even get close to the prison. Three people are smaller targets, faster, and easier to infiltrate.”
He looked at Lin Yuan, his voice calm.
“You just need to tell me the layout of the prison, the guards’ shift changes, and the weaknesses in the restrictions. Leave the rest to me.”
Lin Yuan looked into his eyes and remained silent for a long time. He saw many things in those eyes: confidence, but not arrogance; calmness, but not indifference; determination, but not impulsiveness.
“Okay,” Lin Yuan nodded. “I’ll give you the map. But you have to promise me one thing.”
“Say it.”
“Come back alive.”
Kai smiled. “Okay.”
That night, Kai, Jiang Xuelan, and Bing Wuhen left Free Valley, heading towards Black Rock Prison.
Bing Xue’er and Bing Fenghan stayed in Free Valley, waiting for their return.
Lin Yuan stood at the entrance of Free Valley, watching the three figures disappear into the night, silent for a long time.
“Master, what is the background of this person you’re looking for?” he murmured.
No one answered.
Only the sound of the wind blowing through the valley, sobbing and lamenting, as if telling a story.
Behind them, the lights of Free Valley flickered in the night, like a small starry sky.
Thousands of people, hunted, driven, and oppressed by the gods, lived in those lights.
They had found a home here, a home where they didn’t need to hide, didn’t need to fear, didn’t need to bow their heads.
But Kai knew that this home wasn’t safe enough.
As long as the Divine Alliance exists, as long as those prisons exist, and as long as the order of the Sixteen Heavens is still controlled by the Divine Race, this home will forever remain an isolated island, vulnerable to being submerged at any moment.
Therefore, he was going to Blackrock Prison.
Not to prove himself, not to win Lin Yuan’s trust, but because those imprisoned there also deserved a home.
That was all.
…
Blackrock Prison was even more heavily guarded than Lin Yuan had described.
Kai, Jiang Xuelan, and Bing Wuhen lay prone on a hill thirty miles away, staring at the black rocky mountain. The number
of Divine Race cultivators on the watchtowers was twice as many as marked on the map, and the patrol teams had increased from three to five.
Several more new corpses lay on the wooden stakes outside the iron gate, their blood still damp, gleaming a dark red in the moonlight.
“We can’t get in,”
Bing Wuhen said softly, a hint of frustration in his voice. “The patrols are too dense, there are restrictions everywhere; we’ll be discovered before we even get close.”
Kai remained silent.
He stared in the direction of the prison, his mind racing. A direct
assault wouldn’t work; there were only three of them, and the enemy had over a thousand guards. Infiltration
was also out of the question; the defenses and patrols had been strengthened, likely due to Shadow Warrior’s warning.
That left only one option.
“We’ll just go straight there,” Kai said.
Bing Wuhen was stunned. “What?”
“Just walk straight there. Let them arrest us.”
Bing Wuhen’s eyes widened. “Are you crazy? That’s the God Clan’s prison; once you’re in, you won’t get out…”
“We can get out,”
Kai interrupted him calmly. “They don’t know who we are. My Chaos Power can conceal our aura; in their eyes, we’re just three rogue cultivators at the second or third rank of True Immortal Realm.
Being arrested and locked in ordinary cells is easier than us forcing our way in from the outside.”
Jiang Xuelan looked at Kai, remained silent for a moment, then nodded. “It’s feasible. But what do we do once we’re inside?”
“First, find the imprisoned human cultivators and their leader. Then, break through from the inside.”
Bing Wuhen opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but upon meeting Kai’s calm eyes, he swallowed his words.
He gritted his teeth. “Fine. Anyway, you saved my life, so I’ll go crazy with you this once.”
The three of them stood up from the hill, no longer concealing their auras, and swaggered towards Black Rock Prison.
The divine cultivators on the watchtower spotted them almost immediately.
A golden light shone down from the watchtower, illuminating the three of them. A
piercing alarm sounded, the iron gate opened, and a group of divine cultivators rushed out, surrounding them.
“Halt! Who are you? How dare you trespass into Black Rock Prison?”
The leading divine cultivator was a sixth-grade True Immortal, with a cold face, his long sword pointed at Kai’s throat.
His gaze swept over the three of them, lingering for a moment on Jiang Xuelan’s face, but quickly shifting away.
Kai raised his hands, a look of fear on his face. “My lord, we…we are just wandering cultivators passing by. We got lost and don’t know where this is…”
“Lost?” The divine cultivator sneered. “Black Rock Prison is a forbidden zone for hundreds of miles around. How could you get lost here? I bet you’re spies for the resistance!”
“No, no, my lord, we really are just wandering cultivators…”
“Enough nonsense!” The divine cultivator waved his hand. “Search them! Take them in! Lock them in ordinary cells, and send them to work in the mines tomorrow!”
Several divine cultivators rushed forward and roughly searched them.
Kai had already hidden his storage ring in the temporary space created by the power of chaos, so they found nothing.
Jiang Xuelan’s Ice God Sword was hidden in the same place.
Bing Wuhen’s Ice Sword was the same.
The divine cultivators only found some broken crystals and a few bottles of low-grade pills, further convincing them that they were just a few poor wandering cultivators.
“Take them in!”
The three were pushed and shoved into Black Rock Prison.
The interior of Blackrock Prison was even more sinister than the exterior.
A long corridor ran through the entire mountain, lined with cells on both sides, their iron doors sealed with talismans.
The corridor reeked of decay and blood; torture instruments hung on the walls, and broken bones littered the floor.
The ordinary cells were located in the middle of the prison, holding prisoners of lower cultivation levels and lesser crimes.
The three were wheeled into a large cell, already holding over a dozen people, all human, ragged, emaciated, and with numb eyes.
The iron door slammed shut, the chains rattling.
The footsteps of the divine cultivators faded into the distance.
The prisoners looked up at them, then lowered their heads again.
No one spoke, no one asked who they were or where they came from.
Staying here long enough would turn people into this—apathetic and hopeless.
Kai sat down against the wall and closed his eyes.
The power of chaos flowed slowly within his body, and his divine sense pierced through the cell walls, spreading throughout the entire prison.
He needed to find the leader of the imprisoned human cultivators, to find those who hadn’t given up hope.
His divine sense, like an invisible snake, slithered through the corridors, passing through each cell, sensing the aura of each person.
Most people had weak auras, their spiritual power sealed, their souls suppressed, making them indistinguishable from ordinary people.
But the aura in one cell was different. That cell was at the end of the corridor, its iron door affixed with seven sealing talismans, twice as many as the other cells.
Inside was a person, a True Immortal of the seventh rank, whose aura, though sealed and suppressed, was still far stronger than the other prisoners.
Kai memorized the location of that cell.
After sensing for a while longer, confirming there were no stronger individuals, he withdrew his divine sense.
He opened his eyes, looking at the numb faces in the cell, a complex mix of emotions welling up within him.
These people, once cultivators, once had their own homes, their own families, their own dreams.
But now, they are merely livestock raised by the gods, waiting to be squeezed dry of their last bit of value.
“Everyone,” Kai spoke, his voice not loud, but clearly reaching everyone’s ears.
No one responded. Some didn’t even look up.
“My name is Kai, I’m from outside. I’ve come to rescue you.”
The cell was silent for a moment, then someone laughed.
The laughter was bitter, as if mocking Kai’s naiveté.
“Rescue us?”
A middle-aged man looked up, a scar running from his forehead to his chin, his eyes empty. “Do you know where this is? Black Rock Prison. One of the three great prisons of the gods. No one who enters has ever left alive.”
“Not before,” Kai said, “but since then.”
The middle-aged man looked at him, remained silent for a moment, then shook his head. “Young man, I’ve been here for three hundred years. I’ve seen countless people like you, coming in full of confidence, talking about escaping, talking about rebelling. Now their bones are still hanging on the wooden stakes outside the iron gate.”
Kai didn’t refute.
He stood up from the wall, walked to the iron gate, and reached out to grasp the chains on it.
Chaotic fire surged from his palm, instantly melting the chains and burning the sealing talisman to ashes.
The people in the cells simultaneously raised their heads.
Their eyes widened, their mouths gaped, and the numbness on their faces was replaced by shock.
The middle-aged man struggled to his feet, his legs almost giving way, and he steadied himself by holding onto the wall. “You…you can break the seal?”
Kai turned around and looked at them. “I said, I’m here to rescue you.”
Kai didn’t rush to open all the cells.
He needed to find the leader first, he needed to formulate a plan, and he needed to figure out the prison’s troop deployment and the distribution of restrictions.
He left Bing Wuhen and Jiang Xuelan in the cell and walked alone down the corridor towards the cell with seven sealing talismans affixed to it.
The corridor was long, and the cells on both sides held all sorts of people.
There were humans, beastmen, demons, and even a few ghosts.
They all showed surprise when they saw Kai walking down the corridor; ordinary prisoners were not allowed to move around in the corridor.
Kai stopped in front of the cell.
The seven sealing talismans on the iron door shimmered with golden light in the darkness, and the chain was twice as thick as that of an ordinary cell.
He reached out and grasped the chain, and the chaotic fire melted it, burning the sealing talismans to ashes one by one.
The iron door opened.
Inside the cell, an old man sat in the corner.
His hair was gray, his face was aged, and he wore a tattered gray robe.
His cultivation was at the seventh rank of True Immortal Realm, but it was suppressed by the seal, and his aura was very weak.
His eyes were closed, as if he were sleeping, or perhaps deep in thought.
“Who are you?” The old man didn’t open his eyes, his voice hoarse.
“Kai. From outside.”
The old man’s eyelids twitched, and he slowly opened his eyes.
They were cloudy eyes, but deep within the pupils was a glimmer of light—the light of someone who had endured so much suffering yet never given up.
“From outside?” The old man looked at him. “A member of the Resistance?”
Kai nodded. “Lin Yuan sent me.”
The old man’s body jolted. “Lin Yuan? He’s still alive?”
“Alive. He’s in Freedom Valley.”
Tears welled up in the old man’s eyes.
He struggled to his feet, walked to Kai, grabbed his arm, and his voice trembled. “Lin Yuan… he’s still alive… good, good…”
Kai supported him. “Senior, what’s your name?”
“My name is Zhao Tieshan. I’m an old man from the resistance army, imprisoned three hundred years ago.” The old man wiped away his tears, took a deep breath, and composed himself. “You came in alone?”
“Three people. Two others are in the outer cells.”
“Three people?” Zhao Tieshan’s face changed. “Are you crazy? Black Rock Prison has thousands of guards, and the warden is an eighth-grade True Immortal. How can you three rescue people?”
Kai looked at him. “I have a way. But I need your help.”
“What kind of help?”
“Tell me, how many human cultivators are in the prison? In which cells are they? Who can still fight? Who can still move?”
Zhao Tieshan was silent for a moment, then turned around, walked to the wall, and drew a simple map on the wall with his finger.
The layout of the prison, the distribution of guards, the location of the restrictions, and the classification of cells were all marked.
“There are 537 human cultivators in total. They are distributed across twelve cells on the second floor.”
His finger moved across the map. “Less than 100 are capable fighters. They’ve been imprisoned for too long; their spiritual power is sealed, and their bodies have collapsed. But if there’s a way to break the seal, they can recover some of their strength.”
Kai nodded. “I can break the seal. The power of chaos counters all seals.”
Zhao Tieshan’s eyes lit up. “The power of chaos? You possess the power of chaos?”
“Yes.”
Zhao Tieshan was silent for a long time, then let out a long breath.
“No wonder Lin Yuan dared to send you. Good, good, good.” He said “good” three times in a row, his eyes growing brighter and brighter.
“The plan is like this.”
Kai squatted down and gestured on the map on the wall with his finger. “Tomorrow morning, the Divine Race cultivators will open the prison and take us to work in the mine.
That’s our only chance. There are fewer guards in the mine than in the prison, and the terrain is more open, making it easier to make a move.
You’re in charge of contacting everyone and having them prepare. Once I give the signal, we’ll all move together.”
Zhao Tieshan frowned. “There are also restrictions in the mine, and a warden is stationed there. We can’t beat an eighth-grade True Immortal.”
“Leave the warden to me.”
Zhao Tieshan looked at him, his eyes full of doubt.
A young man at the second grade of True Immortal Realm saying he could deal with a warden at the eighth grade of True Immortal Realm—it sounded like a fantasy.
But the way Kai broke the seal just now was indeed something an ordinary person couldn’t do.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Zhao Tieshan gritted his teeth. “Fine. I trust you.”
The next morning, the iron gate to the prison cell was opened.
A divine cultivator stood in the corridor, whip in hand, shouting loudly,
“Get up! Get up! Go to work!”
One by one, the prisoners walked out of their cells, forming a long line, heading out of the prison.
Their feet were shackled, the shackles engraved with sealing runes, preventing the flow of spiritual energy.
They hung their heads, staggering, like a group of walking corpses.
Kai, Jiang Xuelan, and Bing Wuhen mingled in the crowd, following the line out of the prison.
The mine was located to the north of the prison, a huge open-pit mine.
The bottom of the pit was piled with black ore, and the miners used pickaxes to strike the rocks, producing dull sounds.
Divine cultivators stood around the mine, longswords in hand, their eyes scanning the surroundings like hawks.
At the highest point of the mine, there was a stone platform, upon which sat a tall, imposing divine cultivator, the warden, a True Immortal of the eighth rank.
Kai was assigned to the deepest part of the mine, digging with a dozen or so other prisoners.
He took the pickaxe, bent down to strike the rock, his eyes scanning the distribution of guards around him.
The mine had fewer guards than the prison, but still over a hundred.
The warden sat high above, overlooking the entire mine; nothing unusual escaped his notice.
Kai wasn’t in a hurry.
He was waiting for an opportunity.
At noon, the sun reached its highest point, its rays shining directly into the mine, creating waves of heat.
The guards began their shift change, and the warden closed his eyes, seemingly dozing.
Kai put down the pickaxe, straightened up, and walked towards the edge of the mine.
“What are you doing? Go back!” A divine cultivator approached him, his whip raised.
Kai didn’t stop. He walked up to the divine cultivator, reached out, and placed his hand on his chest.
Chaotic fire surged from his palm, and the cultivator didn’t even have time to scream before turning into ashes.
Kai turned around, looking at everyone in the mine. His voice wasn’t loud, but it clearly reached everyone’s ears.
“Attack.”
Zhao Tieshan was the first to move.
He smashed his pickaxe against the divine cultivator beside him, the pickaxe hitting the cultivator’s head, blood splattering.
He took the key from the cultivator’s corpse and unlocked the shackles on his feet.
The sealed spiritual power surged within his body, and the aura of a seventh-grade True Immortal erupted, making the air in the mine tremble.
“Brothers, kill!”
Five hundred and thirty-seven human cultivators sprang up simultaneously.
Some used pickaxes, some used stones, and some used their fists, rushing towards the divine cultivators beside them.
The divine cultivators were caught off guard and momentarily lost their composure.
But the warden reacted quickly.
He rose from the stone platform, golden holy light swirling around him, the pressure of an eighth-grade True Immortal pressing down like a mountain.
“Seeking death!” he roared, slamming his palm towards the mine.
The golden palm print blotted out the sky, crashing towards the crowd.
Kai blocked the palm print.
He drew his Dragon-Slaying Sword, purple chaotic power flowing across its blade, and slashed down.
The purple sword light collided with the golden palm print, but there was no explosion, no loud noise. The palm print was like paper before the chaotic power, instantly torn apart, devoured, and dissipated.
The warden’s pupils contracted. “Chaotic power? You’re the one who killed Jin Lie!”
Kai didn’t answer.
He took a step forward, his purple figure leaving a trail of afterimages in the void, instantly appearing before the warden. The
Dragon-Slaying Sword, imbued with purple chaotic fire, pierced towards the warden’s chest.
The warden desperately channeled his holy light, condensing a golden shield of light before him.
The light shield had five layers, each containing the supreme laws of the gods.
The Dragon-Slaying Sword pierced the first layer and shattered.
The second layer, shattered. The third, fourth, and fifth layers—the Dragon-Slaying Sword, like a red-hot iron rod piercing through butter, silently pierced all five layers of the light shield.
The warden’s face turned deathly pale.
He tried to retreat, but Kai’s sword was too fast.
A purple sword light pierced his chest, and chaotic fire surged from the sword, igniting his body.
“No…”
His scream lasted only a breath before it vanished completely.
The warden was dead.
The gods in the mine, seeing their warden killed with a single sword strike, completely collapsed.
They threw down their weapons and turned to flee.
Golden holy light scattered and fled in the mine, like disturbed fireflies.
Zhao Tieshan led the human cultivators in pursuit, killing the fleeing gods one by one.
Jiang Xuelan’s icy blue divine light froze a group of divine cultivators into ice sculptures, while Bing Wuhen’s ice sword cleaved another group in two.
In less than the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, all the hundreds of divine cultivators in the mine were dead.
Kai stood beside the warden’s corpse, his blue robe stained with golden blood.
He looked at the cheering human cultivators, at his rescued comrades, a slight smile playing on his lips.
“Let’s go. Back to Freedom Valley.”
Five hundred and thirty-seven human cultivators formed a long line, following Kai towards Freedom Valley.
Their feet were still shackled, but the seals on the shackles had been melted by Kai’s chaotic fire.
Their spiritual power was slowly recovering, their bodies were slowly growing stronger, and the numbness in their eyes was slowly fading.
Some cried, some laughed, some knelt and kissed the earth, some roared to the sky.
Zhao Tieshan walked beside Kai, his steps steady. Tears still clung to his face, but his eyes shone brightly.
“Mr. Chen, when I was captured three hundred years ago, I thought I would never get out of here.”
His voice was a little hoarse. “I never thought I would come out alive.”
Kai looked at him. “It’s good that you’re alive. Go back and rest well. There are still battles to fight in the future.”
Zhao Tieshan nodded. “From now on, my life is yours.”
Kai shook his head. “Not mine. It belongs to the human race.”
Zhao Tieshan paused for a moment, then smiled. “Right. It belongs to the human race.”
Behind him, 537 human cultivators formed a long line in the setting sun, walking towards the direction of Freedom Valley.
Their shadows were stretched very long, like 537 rekindled lifelines.
The lights of Freedom Valley flickered in the distance, like a small starry sky.
Those lights housed thousands of people who had been hunted, driven, and oppressed by the gods. From today onwards, the number doubled.
Lin Yuan stood at the entrance of Freedom Valley, watching the gradually appearing line in the distance, tears welling up in his eyes.
“They’re back…they’re back…”
He rushed forward and hugged Zhao Tieshan tightly; the two old men embraced and wept bitterly.
Old Zhao, the tall, thin man, the middle-aged woman, Old Xu, and everyone else from Freedom Valley stood at the entrance, watching the rescued human cultivators, their eyes filled with tears.
Kai stood at the back of the crowd, watching everything unfold, a complex mix of emotions welling up within him.
He turned around, looking towards Black Rock Prison.
There, the black rocky mountain stood silently in the moonlight, like a colossal tomb.
But the tomb was now empty of life.
Jiang Xuelan walked to his side. “What are you thinking about?”
Kai shook his head. “Nothing. Let’s go back.”
The two walked side by side into Freedom Valley.
Free Valley had never been so lively.
Tables and chairs, brought from various households, were scattered across the open space in the center of the valley. They varied in size and color, some even missing a leg and propped up with stones.
The tables were piled high with food and wine jars.
The food wasn’t fancy, mostly roasted animal meat, coarse grain cakes, and pickled vegetables, but to those who had eaten pig feed for centuries in Black Rock Prison, these things were more precious than delicacies.
The wine was brewed by Free Valley itself, using the spiritual grains and wild fruits grown in the valley, fermented using traditional methods. It was rough in taste but strong enough.
Zhao Tieshan sat at the main table, holding a bowl of wine, his hands trembling.
Not because of his injuries, but because of excitement.
For the first time in three hundred years, he was sitting in a brightly lit place drinking, with the starry sky above, his compatriots beside him, and the distant laughter of children playing.
He took a sip of wine, and tears streamed down his face.
“Old Zhao, why are you crying?” Old Zhao sat beside him, grinning, his scars crinkling into a ball. “On such a joyous day, one should laugh.”
Zhao Tieshan wiped away his tears and smiled. “Yes, one should laugh. I’m happy.”
Old Zhao poured himself a full bowl of wine, stood up, and raised the bowl towards Kai. “Mr. Chen, I, Old Zhao, was blind to your greatness and spoke rudely to you on the first day. This bowl of wine is a toast to you, an apology!”
He then tilted his head back and gulped it down.
Kai, sitting in the main seat, smiled, raised his bowl, and also drank it dry. “Old Zhao, you’re too kind. With your strength, you couldn’t even break through my protective inner energy. What’s there to apologize for?”
Old Zhao’s face flushed red, and everyone around burst into laughter.
The tall, thin man, fanning himself with a folding fan, laughed so hard he almost dropped the fan into his wine bowl.
The middle-aged woman slapped the table, laughing so hard she couldn’t straighten up.
Old Xu stroked his beard, his eyes narrowed as he smiled, his wrinkles resembling blooming chrysanthemums.
The tall, thin man stood up, snapped his folding fan shut, and bowed to Kai. “Brother Chen, when I touched your neck with my finger, all your spiritual power vanished. It felt like punching cotton—no, even weaker than cotton, like hitting air.
In all my years of cultivation, this is the first time I’ve felt so frustrated.” He poured himself a bowl of wine. “A toast to you, a toast to your chaotic power.”
Kai drank another bowl.
The wine was strong, burning from his throat to his stomach, but it was exhilarating.
The middle-aged woman also stood up.
She didn’t say much, simply raising her bowl to Kai before downing it in one gulp.
Kai also drank his, and she nodded and sat down.
Old Xu finally stood up, holding his wine bowl, and walked to Kai. He said earnestly, “Mr. Chen, I have cultivated fire-based techniques for three thousand years, and I considered myself to have reached the pinnacle.
But seeing your Chaos Flame, I realize I’m just a frog in a well. This bowl is for you, and for the Chaos Flame itself.” He finished his drink in one gulp and bowed deeply to Kai.
Kai helped him up and also drank. “Old Xu’s flame is very pure, but it lacks a little refinement. Perhaps we can spar sometime in the future.”
Old Xu’s eyes lit up, and he nodded repeatedly.
Lin Yuan sat beside Kai, remaining mostly silent.
He simply kept drinking, bowl after bowl, his expression gradually shifting from solemn to relaxed.
When the third jar of wine was empty, he finally spoke.
“Kai, in my life, I, Lin Yuan, have never truly respected anyone. My master is one, and you are another.”
His voice was hoarse, and his eyes were red.
Not because of the wine, but because of his emotions.
The resistance had struggled in the Sixteenth Heaven for so many years, suffering so much death and hardship, yet they had never won such a brilliant battle.
Three men, deep into the lion’s den, rescued 537 people, killed the warden, and destroyed a prison.
Such a feat was something he had never dared to dream of before.
“You have no idea what kind of life we’ve lived these past years,”
Lin Yuan said, his voice low as he drank another bowl of wine. “Hiding in Freedom Valley, afraid to go out, afraid to show our faces. When the Divine Clan’s patrol passed through the valley entrance, we didn’t even dare to breathe.
Every operation had to be rehearsed repeatedly, and then rehearsed again, for fear of making the slightest mistake. Yet even so, many of us still died.”
He looked up at Kai, tears welling in his eyes. “Last time during the prison break, I took two hundred men out, but less than a hundred returned. Their bodies are hanging on the wooden stakes outside Black Rock Prison, exposed to the wind and sun, and we don’t even dare to collect them.”
The table fell silent.
Old Zhao put down his wine bowl, the tall, thin man closed his folding fan, the middle-aged woman lowered her head, and Old Xu sighed.
Kai didn’t speak.
He poured Lin Yuan a bowl of wine.
Lin Yuan took the bowl, took a sip, and continued, “But you’re different. You came, and in three days, you took down Black Rock Prison. Five hundred and thirty-seven people, brought back without a single one missing.”
He put down the bowl, looked at Kai, his eyes full of admiration, “Kai, I, Lin Yuan, admire you.”
Kai smiled. “It wasn’t just my achievement. Without the map you gave me, without Old Zhao’s cooperation inside, without Jiang Xuelan and Bing Wuhen’s help, I couldn’t have done it alone.”
Lin Yuan waved his hand. “You’re being modest. I gave you the map, but you were the one who got in. You found Old Zhao, you broke the seal, you killed the warden. We all saw it.”
Old Zhao chimed in from the side. “Exactly, exactly. Mr. Chen, don’t be modest. This is the first time in all these years that Freedom Valley has felt so proud.”
The tall, thin man, fanning himself with a folding fan, said with a smile, “Brother Chen, how exactly did you cultivate that Chaos Power? Teach us, please?”
Kai glanced at him. “Can’t be cultivated, it’s talent.”
The tall, thin man’s smile froze for a moment, then he sighed. “Talent? That’s hopeless. I’ll never be able to cultivate it in this lifetime.”
Everyone laughed again.
After a few rounds of drinks, the atmosphere became increasingly lively.
Someone started singing, singing ancient human songs, the tunes and lyrics were very old, but everyone present knew them.
The songs echoed in the valley, deep and long, as if telling a story.
Some people started dancing, around the campfire, hand in hand, their steps unsteady but joyful.
Some people hugged each other and cried, then laughed, then cried again.
Zhao Tieshan, drunk, held Kai’s hand, rambling on and on.
He talked about his time in the resistance army, about being imprisoned in Black Rock Prison, and how he endured his time there.
Kai listened, nodding occasionally, without interrupting him.
He knew it was better to say these things aloud than to keep them bottled up inside.
Lin Yuan was also quite drunk.
He patted Kai on the shoulder, his voice loud. “Kai, what do you think we should do next? Should we go to those two prisons?”
Kai took a sip of wine, his tongue a little thick. “Go. Why not? Saving one is the same as saving two. Let’s go tomorrow.”
Lin Yuan’s eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Really.”
Kai put down his wine bowl. “We can take down Black Rock Prison, and the other prisons are no different. The warden is a True Immortal Realm Eighth Grade; I’ve killed more than one. A few more, and we’ll kill them without hesitation.”
Old Zhao egged them on from the side. “Mr. Chen is awesome! Tomorrow we’ll take down the other two prisons too!”
The tall, thin man, fanning himself with a folding fan, smiled until his eyes narrowed into slits. “The Divine Alliance won’t be able to sleep now.”
The middle-aged woman rarely smiled, raising her wine bowl and gesturing to Kai.
Old Xu stroked his beard, nodding repeatedly.
Lin Yuan stood up, raised his wine bowl, and shouted to everyone, “Brothers, Mr. Chen said he’ll take down the other two prisons tomorrow. Everyone go back and get some rest, conserve your energy, and let’s go again tomorrow!”
A cheer erupted in the valley.
“Long live Mr. Chen!” ” Long live the
human race!” “Defeat the Divine Race!” Kai smiled and waved his hand, signaling everyone to be quiet. “Get some rest. We have important business to attend to tomorrow.” The crowd gradually dispersed. The valley quieted down, leaving only the campfire crackling. Kai sat by the campfire, watching the flames dance, his smile slowly fading. Jiang Xuelan walked over to him and sat down. “Drunk?” Kai shook his head. “Not much. This little bit of wine won’t get me drunk.” “Then what you said earlier about going to raid the other two prisons tomorrow, were you serious or just talking drunk?” Kai turned to look at her. “Serious. The Black Rock Prison can’t be kept secret for long; the Divine Alliance will find out soon. Rather than waiting for them to strengthen their defenses, we should strike while the iron is hot and do it before they can react.” Jiang Xuelan was silent for a moment. “Are you confident?” “Yes.” Kai’s voice was calm. “But we need to be quick. We’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning.” Jiang Xuelan nodded. “Okay. I’ll go prepare.” She stood up, took a few steps, then stopped without turning back. “Kai, you said you wanted to establish a Celestial Realm without classes, where all races are equal. Is that true?” Kai was stunned. He remembered saying something similar to Youying in Youyue Kingdom. At that time, he had just saved Xiaoyou, and seeing the child clinging to his leg and refusing to let go, he had this idea. But he had never seriously thought about how to achieve it; he just felt that it should be done. “It’s true,” he said. Jiang Xuelan didn’t say anything more and left. Kai sat by the campfire, staring at the flames, his mind a jumbled mess. The alcohol was kicking in, making him a little dizzy, but he didn’t want to sleep. He thought of Su Yuqi, of her standing beside Ning Zhi, of the way she glanced back at him. He thought of Yun Xi, of her injured state in the Heavenly Fire Pit, of her standing on the city wall saying, “You must come back.” He thought of Chu Tianxing, of him saying, “You are the hope of all of us.” Hope. That word was too heavy, so heavy that sometimes he felt he couldn’t bear it. But he couldn’t let go, because letting go meant that those who believed in him would be disappointed, would despair, would lose everything. … In the main hall of the Divine Alliance, the lights shone brightly. Wei Pengkun sat in the main seat, his face as gloomy as the sky before a storm. His fingers tapped lightly on the table, once, once, and again, the sound echoing in the empty hall like the tolling of a death knell. Before him knelt a Divine Clan cultivator, trembling, his forehead pressed to the ground, afraid to look up. “Black Rock Prison, it’s been raided?” Wei Pengkun’s voice was calm, but everyone could hear the anger beneath that calm. “Yes…yes, Alliance Leader.” The cultivator’s voice trembled. “The warden was killed, over a thousand guards were wiped out, and all five hundred and thirty-seven prisoners were rescued.” Wei Pengkun’s finger stopped. “Who did it?” “Kai. The one with the power of chaos. He infiltrated the prison with two others, attacking from the inside.” Wei Pengkun remained silent for a long time. The images of those five men flashed through his mind: the captain’s cold face and silver spear; the twin-swordsman’s sharp swordsmanship; the greatsword master’s ferocious strength; the whip-wielder’s insidious moves; the archer’s precise archery. Five people , five True Immortal Realm eighth-grade experts, all wiped out in the fifteenth heaven. His scout, Shadow, hadn’t returned either. Now, Black Rock Prison had also been taken down. “Kai…” he murmured, his voice soft, but each word seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth. He stood up, walked to the star map, and looked at the map of the Sixteen Heavens. Black Rock Prison, located at the border of the Eastern and Northern Regions, had already been destroyed. The other two prisons, one in the Southern Region and the other in the Western Region, were still under the control of the Divine Race. “Pass down the order,” his voice was cold, “Immediately strengthen the security of the prisons in the Southern and Western Regions. Activate all restrictions and double the patrols. No one is allowed to enter or leave without my order.” “Yes!” The cultivator stood up and turned to leave. “And another thing,” Wei Pengkun called after him, “Notify Shadow General to take men to garrison the Western Region prison. If Kai dares to come, make sure he doesn’t return.” The cultivator’s expression changed slightly, “Shadow General, you’re going personally?” “Kai is no ordinary person. He killed Jin Lie and the warden of Black Rock Prison. Ordinary cultivators cannot deal with him.” Wei Pengkun’s voice was calm, “Tell Shadow General to see him alive or dead.” “Yes!” The cultivator turned and left. The hall fell silent. Wei Pengkun stood before the star map, gazing at the location of the Western Regions prison, remaining silent for a long time. “Kai, do you think taking down Black Rock Prison will shake the foundations of the Divine Alliance?” His voice was soft, but a cold glint flashed in his eyes. “Naive. The Sixteenth Heaven is the territory of the Divine Race. You alone cannot overturn it.” He turned, walked back to the throne, and sat down. His fingers began to tap lightly on the armrest again, once, once, and again. The sound echoed in the hall, like some ancient timer calculating something. Outside the window, the two moons of the Sixteenth Heaven hung high in the sky, one silvery-white, the other dark red.Moonlight spilled onto the golden dome of the Divine Alliance’s main hall, reflecting a cold, icy light.
When Shadow Warrior received the order, he was resting with his eyes closed in his camp at the edge of the icy plains.
He opened his eyes, looked at the messenger, and a slight smile played on his lips.
“Kai? Interesting.” He stood up, picked up his spear, and said, “Let’s go, to the Western Regions.”
The Divine Clan cultivators behind him quickly assembled and followed him westward.
Shadow Warrior led the way, his black armor gleaming coldly in the moonlight.
He twirled his spear lightly in his hand, the tip tracing silvery arcs in the night.
“Kai, don’t disappoint me,” he murmured.
The next morning, just as dawn was breaking, Freedom Valley was still shrouded in a thin layer of morning mist.
The mountain air, carrying the fragrance of grass and trees, flowed slowly through the valley’s crevices. The embers of the bonfire from the previous night’s revelry had long since cooled, leaving only wisps of pale smoke drifting gently in the air.
The entire valley was not yet fully awake; only a few clear birdsongs, intermittently drifting from the depths of the dense forest, broke the morning’s tranquility.
Kai stood alone in the center of the courtyard, slowly stretching his limbs.
He had drunk quite a bit at the victory banquet the previous night, bowl after bowl of strong liquor going down his throat, the scalding liquid burning his chest. An ordinary cultivator would probably be passed out drunk and unconscious by now.
But for Kai, this amount of alcohol was nothing.
He only gently circulated the chaotic energy within his body for two cycles, and a gentle yet extremely domineering power coursed through his meridians throughout his body.
Wherever he passed, the lingering smell of alcohol was instantly swept away, his mind clearing instantly, leaving not a trace of drowsiness.
He stood there, eyes slightly closed, breathing long and even.
With each inhale and exhale, the sparse spiritual energy of heaven and earth was drawn to him, slowly swirling around his body.
After a moment, Kai slowly opened his eyes, a barely perceptible purple light flashing in them.
He stretched out his arms, pushing his hands forward slowly, and wisps of purple chaotic power quietly emerged in his palms.
This power was not as sharp and aggressive as ordinary spiritual energy, nor as scorching and violent as divine fire, nor as biting and piercing as ice.
It was quiet and gentle, yet it carried a profound sense of encompassing all things and suppressing everything, like a slumbering galaxy, or a quietly flowing underground river, seemingly gentle, but actually containing the potential to destroy the world.
A purple aura slowly flowed through his palm, within which a hazy, mysterious scene, reminiscent of the beginning of time, could be vaguely seen.
Kai focused his mind, feeling the surging power within his body.
In the battle of Black Rock Prison, he had slain the eighth-rank True Immortal Prison Guardian, broken the seal, and rescued hundreds of his comrades. His own cultivation had also become increasingly stable in actual combat, and his control over the power of chaos had become more and more adept.
However, he knew in his heart that this was far from enough.
The Divine Alliance had a profound foundation and countless powerful figures; his current achievements were far from enough to shake their foundation.
Just then, a series of light footsteps came from outside the courtyard gate.
Lin Yuan walked in from outside.
His eyes were bloodshot, and his face showed a trace of fatigue, clearly indicating that he had not slept all night. A lingering worry lingered between his brows.
In his hands, he carried a large, rough earthenware bowl filled with steaming spirit grain soup. The soup was light in color, with a few tender wild vegetables floating on top, its aroma simple yet warm.
Lin Yuan walked up to Kai and gently handed him the soup bowl without saying a word.
Kai took the bowl, feeling its warmth on his fingertips.
He lowered his head and took a sip; the soup flowed smoothly down his throat, carrying the unique sweetness of the spiritual valley and the faint fragrance of wild vegetables.
The taste wasn’t particularly delicious, but it was exceptionally warming, a warmth slowly sinking down his throat into his dantian, dispelling the lingering chill of the morning.
“Is something wrong?”
Kai put down the bowl and spoke softly.
He could tell that Lin Yuan’s expression was off today, far from a simple morning greeting.
Lin Yuan nodded, but didn’t immediately look up. He silently walked to the steps and squatted down.
He hugged his knees, curling himself into a ball, looking somewhat like a child who had done something wrong and didn’t know how to speak, a stark contrast to the composed and decisive leader of the resistance army.
Silence spread through the courtyard.
A morning breeze blew, causing a few fallen leaves to swirl gently.
After a long while, Lin Yuan slowly spoke, his voice slightly hoarse and filled with barely concealed struggle: “Last night you said that we should continue the prison break today and take down the remaining two god-race prisons as well… After I got back, I thought about it all night.”
Kai hummed in agreement and waited quietly for him to continue.
“Then I felt something was wrong.”
Lin Yuan finally raised his head, revealing a pair of bloodshot eyes with faint dark circles under them, clearly showing he hadn’t slept all night and was exhausted.
“The Divine Alliance is well-informed. Such a major event as the breach of Black Rock Prison, the killing of the warden, and the rescue of hundreds of prisoners couldn’t possibly be kept secret.
By now, the news has probably already reached the Divine Palace. The other two prisons must be on full alert, with all restrictions lifted, guards doubled, and possibly even powerful figures personally overseeing them.”
He paused, his tone heavy: “If we go now, it’s not bravery, it’s like walking into the line of fire, it’s just throwing our lives away.”
Kai put down his empty bowl on the stone steps beside him, turned to look at him, his expression calm: “You didn’t say that last night.”
Last night by the campfire, Lin Yuan raised his glass and shouted, full of vigor, declaring that he would follow Kai to sweep through the Divine Prisons and right the injustice. The atmosphere was extremely heated, and everyone was blinded by that passion.
Lin Yuan gave a bitter smile, a smile tinged with helplessness and self-mockery.
“I’m genuinely happy, and genuinely excited. For three hundred years, our resistance has never felt so triumphant. A few drinks, a surge of passion, a few grand pronouncements—that’s normal.”
He sighed softly, his voice low. “But I’m the leader of the resistance, not some hotheaded youth seeking only pleasure. Happiness is one thing, but I can’t lose my head, and I can’t forget my responsibilities.”
“The lives of these hundreds of people in Freedom Valley are in my hands. We’ve already lost too many brothers in the last prison break; we can’t afford to take unnecessary risks again.
Another assault, if it fails, will bring utter destruction to Freedom Valley. I can’t afford to gamble, and I can’t afford to lose.”
Kai listened without rebuttal, simply sitting down on the steps beside Lin Yuan, side by side.
The stone steps were cool, carrying the scent of morning dew.
He gazed into the depths of the valley, where distant mountains rose and fell, lush forests, a scene of tranquility and peace.
But he knew this tranquility was incredibly fragile, easily shattered by the iron hooves of the gods.
“Then, in your opinion, what should we do?” Kai asked softly.
Lin Yuan fell silent again.
His lips were slightly pursed, his brows furrowed, and his knuckles turned slightly white from the pressure, clearly indicating an intense internal struggle.
He had pondered this question all night; every path was fraught with thorns, every choice carried immense risk.
After a long while, he finally spoke, his voice low and firm: “We need help.”
“The people we have are not enough. The Free Valley has only a few hundred people who can truly fight on the front lines, the majority of whom are old, weak, women, and children, with very few experts.”
The Blackrock Prison succeeded last time thanks to two factors: a surprise attack and your presence. But facing the fully prepared Protoss forces, our small force is simply no match.
Kai raised an eyebrow slightly: “Where can we find help?”
In this Sixteenth Heaven, the human race is weak and helpless, like stray dogs, hunted down by the gods.
Other races either submit to the gods or remain isolated for self-preservation. Who would be willing to risk offending the god alliance and lend a helping hand?
Lin Yuan slowly raised his head, his gaze fixed on the distant, undulating, and vast mountain range.
Those mountains soared into the clouds, ancient trees reached for the sky, shrouded in mist, concealing countless unknown secrets and dangers.
His eyes were complex, filled with a hint of awe and uncertainty, as if he were telling a long-buried secret.
“Within the Sixteen Heavens, there lies another race.”
“A race that has not been completely suppressed or exterminated by the gods.”
“They live in seclusion deep within the mountains and forests, without any contact with the outside world. The gods search far and wide, yet find it difficult to locate their true lair.
Even if they occasionally sense something amiss, they are unwilling to get too involved, much less to wage a large-scale war to annihilate them.”
Kai’s heart stirred: “Why?”
“Because this race is peaceful and content with its lot,”
Lin Yuan explained. “They never initiate conflict, do not expand their territory, do not plunder resources, and do not covet power. They pose no threat to the rule of the gods.
The gods weigh the pros and cons and decide that rather than expending a large amount of military force to attack a territory with no profit, it is better to let them be. As long as they do not cause trouble, they turn a blind eye.”
A glint flashed in Kai’s eyes: “What race?”
“The Spirit Race.”
Lin Yuan lowered his voice, his tone solemn, as if revealing a secret that could shake the entire Sixteen Heavens.
“Some also call them the Spirit Plant Clan.”
“They are not beings of flesh and blood, nor are they transformed from beasts through cultivation. Rather, they are spirits directly nurtured by the spiritual energy of heaven and earth.
Thousand-year-old trees absorb the essence of the sun and moon, ten-thousand-year-old Ganoderma lucidum absorbs the energy of mountains and rivers, and rare flowers and herbs endure the baptism of heaven and earth. Over time, they awaken their intelligence, condense their physical bodies, and transform into humans, forming their own race.”
“They do not belong to the human race, nor to the divine race, nor to the demon race, nor even to the beast race. They are life born from the very nature of heaven and earth, the spirits of the mountains and forests, the souls of plants and trees.”
Kai paused slightly upon hearing this.
He was extremely familiar with the beast race; they were birds and beasts who cultivated and attained enlightenment, transforming into human form, many of whom possessed astonishing talent.
The fox princess he had once played with, named Bai Qian, was a fox in her true form, possessing unparalleled beauty and captivating charm, who had once unsettled his heart and haunted his dreams.
A complete race that could be formed from plants, flowers, ancient trees, and spiritual herbs, possessing its own territory, rules, and traditions—this was something he had never heard of or seen before.
A sense of curiosity arose in his heart.
“Are they very strong?” Kai asked directly.
In this dog-eat-dog world, strength is the foundation of all cooperation.
Lin Yuan nodded without hesitation: “Very strong.”
“But not in the way you imagine—the kind of strength that comes from charging into battle and acting decisively. The Spirit Race isn’t good at head-on combat, nor do they cultivate berserk offensive techniques. Their strengths lie in perception, healing, and formations.”
“An ancient divine tree that has lived for over ten thousand years can manifest, its roots spreading across an entire mountain range. Within a thousand miles, no rustling of wind, fluctuation of spiritual energy, or movement of a person can escape its perception. Against them, there is virtually no possibility of sneak attacks or ambushes.”
“A spirit cultivator manifested from a ten-thousand-year-old Ganoderma lucidum can revive the dead and heal bones with a single drop of its primordial sap. Ordinary fatal injuries can be healed in the blink of an eye. Even a cultivator severely injured and on the verge of death can be forcibly brought back to life as long as they have a breath left.”
“Moreover, their vitality is almost immortal. As long as their innate spiritual root is not completely destroyed, even if their physical body shatters and their soul is scattered, they can reassemble themselves using the essence of plants and trees, slowly recovering. Ordinary attacks are nothing more than superficial wounds to them.”
Kai nodded slightly, gaining a general understanding of the Spirit Race.
Such a race might not be top-tier in direct combat, but as allies, their role is irreplaceable.
Perception and early warning, array restraint, healing and sustainment—they can perfectly compensate for the resistance army’s shortcomings.
“Since they are so powerful, why didn’t the God Race completely suppress them and eradicate them completely?” Kai wondered.
Given the domineering and greedy nature of the God Race Alliance, it would be impossible for them to tolerate the peaceful existence of such a dissident force.
Lin Yuan held up two fingers and slowly explained the reasons: “There are two reasons.”
“First, they are too well hidden. The Spirit Clan’s lair is called the Myriad Spirits Ancient Realm, hidden within a primeval forest shrouded in ancient restrictions. The restrictions are profound, forming a world of its own; outsiders simply cannot find the entrance. Even if they manage to enter, they will be trapped by endless mazes, forever unable to escape.
Moreover, the ancient forest is the Spirit Clan’s absolute home ground. In the forest, they thrive like fish in water. Even powerful members of the Divine Clan would gain no advantage and would likely suffer heavy losses.”
“Second, there is no profit to be made. The Spirit Clan is naturally indifferent to worldly gains. They do not mine resources, forge divine weapons, create elixirs, or hoard wealth.
They rely on the spiritual energy of heaven and earth for natural cultivation, living off the land and water. Apart from plants and living creatures, they possess almost nothing.
The Divine Clan would go to great lengths and incur enormous costs to conquer it, only to gain no resources and attract a host of trouble—a net loss.”
“Therefore, in the rules of the Divine Race Alliance, the Spirit Race is the only non-divine race not on the list of those to be attacked.
It’s not that they don’t want to destroy them, but destroying them would be troublesome and offer no benefit, so they simply let them run wild.”
Kai understood.
He was silent for a moment, then looked at Lin Yuan: “In that case, are they willing to help us?” As
soon as he asked this question, Lin Yuan’s face instantly turned extremely ugly, as if a layer of gloom had been cast over it. His brows, which had just relaxed slightly, furrowed tightly again, and his tone became even heavier.
“This is the most difficult part.”
“The Spirit Race… is extremely unfriendly to the human race.”
Kai frowned slightly: “Why?”
The Spirit Race lives in seclusion in the mountains and forests, and has no direct conflict with the human race, so how could they have any enmity?
Lin Yuan sighed deeply, his voice filled with guilt and helplessness: “When you traveled in the lower realm and the Celestial Realm, you must have seen the forests that had been extensively cut down, and the spiritual mountains and veins that had been hollowed out, right?”
Kai nodded.
The path of cultivation is inherently about plundering the resources of heaven and earth.
Spiritual herbs, spiritual woods, and spiritual plants are all top-grade materials for alchemy, weapon crafting, and array formation. It is commonplace for human cultivators to search far and wide for rare and precious materials in order to improve their cultivation.
“Those ancient trees that have been felled, those ten-thousand-year-old Ganoderma lucidum that have been dug up, and those rare flowers and herbs that have been picked, are cultivation resources to us.
But in the eyes of the Spirit Race, they are their unborn kin, their children, their compatriots.”
“Countless spiritual plants, before they could even awaken their intelligence, were ruthlessly felled, harvested, smelted, and refined by the human race, turning them into pills, magical artifacts, and stepping stones to enhance their cultivation.
For billions of years, this blood feud has been deeply etched into the very bones and blood of the spirit race.”
“They do not hate the suppression of the gods, nor do they hate the invasion of the beast race; they only hate the greed and plunder of the human race.” Kai fell silent upon hearing this.
He recalled his own cultivation in the Celestial Realm, when, in order to break through his cultivation level, he had ventured into the deep mountains to gather spiritual herbs and cut down spiritual trees for alchemy and array formations.
At that time, he considered them ordinary resources, using them as needed without giving them much thought.
Now, putting himself in their shoes, he understood the immense suffering that must have caused the Spirit Race.
“Therefore, the Spirit Race hates the Human Race,” Kai slowly began.
“It’s more than just hatred,”
Lin Yuan said with a bitter smile, “it’s a hatred etched into our bones, an ancient grudge spanning millennia. In recent years, our resistance army has been hunted down by the Divine Race, fleeing everywhere, repeatedly driven to the brink of despair. When we passed through the Spirit Race’s territory, they never offered assistance, nor did they ever take advantage of our misfortunes.
They simply closed their doors, isolating themselves from the outside world, turning a blind eye to all human conflicts.”
“To them, the Human Race is no different from an enemy.”
Kai stopped speaking, simply gazing silently at the distant mountains.
The morning mist gradually dissipated, and sunlight pierced through the clouds, illuminating the mountains and gilding the endless forest with a golden edge.
The wind rustled through the treetops, creating a soft whisper, as if countless plants were murmuring.
He knew in his heart that uniting a group of beings who hated his race was incredibly difficult, almost impossible.
But now, Free Valley had no way out.
The Divine Alliance, enraged, would undoubtedly launch a furious retaliation, and Free Valley, with its limited strength, was utterly powerless to resist.
Once surrounded by the Divine Army, only annihilation awaited them.
There was no other choice.
Kai remained silent for a long time before finally speaking, his voice calm yet firm: “Where is the Ancient Realm of Ten Thousand Spirits?”
Lin Yuan was startled, looking at him in disbelief: “You…you’re going?”
“How will I know if they’re willing to help if I don’t try?”
Kai said calmly. “You always have to try to have hope. Sitting and waiting for death will only lead to certain demise.”
Lin Yuan’s expression changed drastically, and he hurriedly tried to dissuade him: “Are you crazy? The Spirit Race hates the Human Race to the bone. Going there alone is no different from walking into a trap. The
Ancient Realm of Ten Thousand Spirits is filled with restrictions, mazes, and killing formations, as well as countless natural traps set by the Spirit Race. It’s extremely dangerous.
Before you even see the Spirit Race’s high-ranking members, you’ll probably be trapped in the forest, or even killed outright.”
In his view, this was tantamount to suicide.
Kai slowly stood up, a flash of purple chaotic power appearing on his body, his aura as steady as a mountain.
“My chaotic power can break all laws. All restrictions and formations in the world are useless before me.”
“As for their hatred, that’s their old grudge against the entire human race, not just me.
I’m not going here to seek revenge, not to provoke, but to discuss cooperation and seek coexistence. If we can reach an agreement, that would be best; if not, I’ll simply turn around and leave. They can’t stop me.”
Lin Yuan looked into Kai’s unusually calm eyes and was shocked.
In those eyes, there was no arrogance, no anxiety, only unfathomable composure and absolute confidence.
He recalled the scene last night when Kai casually blocked his full-force attack, his invincible demeanor as he stormed into Black Rock Prison as if it were empty, and his terrifying strength in suppressing True Immortal Realm experts with a mere wave of his hand.
Perhaps…
perhaps this person can truly do what ordinary people cannot.
Perhaps he can truly resolve the ancient enmity between the human and spirit races, and bring a glimmer of hope to Freedom Valley and all of humanity.
Lin Yuan opened his mouth, but the words of dissuasion that were on the tip of his tongue were ultimately swallowed back.
He took out a neatly folded animal hide map from his robes. The map was old and yellowed, marked with mountains, rivers, canyons, and dangerous places; it was clearly a precious artifact that had been perfected over many years.
Lin Yuan gently spread the map on the ground and pointed to a specially circled area in the deepest part of the north.
“The Ancient Realm of Ten Thousand Spirits is located in the deepest part of the Northern Region.”
“Starting from here, head north, passing through a perpetually misty forest, and you will find the outer edge of the Ancient Realm.
The entrance is sealed by an ancient restriction, and only members of the Spirit Clan can open it. Outsiders who wish to enter must be personally guided by someone from within the Spirit Clan; otherwise, they will be unable to move an inch.”
“How can we find someone to guide us?” Kai asked.
“There are Spirit Clan patrol teams that patrol the Misty Forest year-round,”
Lin Yuan said thoughtfully. “If you encounter one, identify yourself and state your purpose; you might be taken to see the clan leader. Of course, you might also be expelled directly, or even captured and imprisoned on the spot. It’s all uncertain.”
Kai bent down, picked up the map from the ground, and carefully put it into his pocket.
“I’ll give it a try.”
He turned to leave.
“Kai!”
Lin Yuan suddenly stood up and called out to him.
Kai paused and turned back.
Lin Yuan’s expression was solemn as he carefully instructed, word by word: “The Spirit Clan Chief’s name is Qingmu.”
“His true form is the transformation of an ancient pine tree that has lived for 100,000 years. His cultivation is unfathomable; it is said he has already reached the ninth rank of True Immortal, only one step away from the Golden Immortal realm.”
“He is eccentric and withdrawn, taciturn, and extremely dislikes outsiders, especially humans. Be extremely careful on your journey. Do not act impulsively or recklessly; always prioritize harmony.”
Kai nodded slightly: “I understand.”
He said no more and stepped out of the courtyard.
Outside the courtyard gate, Jiang Xuelan was already standing quietly.
She was dressed in plain clothes, her posture upright, her face cold and aloof, like a snow-covered plum blossom, untouched by worldly dust.
Clearly, she had heard every word of the conversation in the courtyard.
She didn’t speak, but simply looked at Kai, her gaze calm yet carrying an unspoken determination.
“Are you coming too?” Kai asked.
Jiang Xuelan nodded gently, her voice calm yet carrying an undeniable resolve: “Wherever you go, I’ll go.”
No matter if the road ahead was a bottomless abyss or a perilous wasteland, she would follow closely behind, never abandoning him.
Kai looked at her, a faint smile playing on his lips.
With someone like her by his side, even the most dangerous places held no fear.
“Alright, let’s go then.”
As soon as the words fell, the two moved simultaneously, transforming into two streaks of light, soaring into the sky and hurtling towards the northern horizon.
Their speed was so fast that it was almost instantaneous.
In the morning light, Freedom Valley grew smaller and smaller, gradually becoming indistinct, until it shrank to a single point and disappeared into the distance, like a dream slowly closing.
At the valley entrance, Lin Yuan stood alone.
He gazed in the direction Kai and Jiang Xuelan had disappeared, motionless for a long time.
The mountain wind whipped his robes, making a rustling sound.
His mind was in turmoil; he both hoped Kai could successfully persuade the Spirit Clan to bring powerful reinforcements to the resistance, and feared that Kai would anger the Spirit Clan, bringing disaster upon himself and completely worsening the already precarious situation.
But he had no other choice.
A mere few hundred people in Freedom Valley were as fragile as candles in the wind before the overwhelming wrath of the Divine Alliance.
To survive, to continue the resistance, to fight for a way out for humanity, they had to find outside help, they had to gamble.
Even if the hope was slim, even if the road ahead was fraught with danger.
Lin Yuan took a deep breath, his gaze hardening once more.
He turned and walked back into the valley.
No matter the outcome, he would protect this place, protect these homeless compatriots, and wait for Kai’s return.