Volume One, Chapter 59: Northern Shore, The Soaring Gourd

“Zhou Xu, take this junior Ji to the Northern Shore,” Sun Wen said, thoroughly satisfied with Ji Die’s attitude, giving his shoulder an approving pat.

According to the sect’s rules, once one broke through to the seventh level of Qi Refining, they could enter the Northern Shore. Now that Ji Die had reached this cultivation, he was naturally counted among the disciples of the Northern Shore.

“As you command,” the young man replied, cupping his fists slightly. In a flash, he grasped Ji Die’s shoulder. The disk hidden in his sleeve vibrated intensely as spiritual energy was channeled into it, and at once a mighty wind wrapped the two of them, transforming into a white rainbow that swept them out of the great hall.

The sun hung high in the sky. Ji Die felt his robes billow fiercely in the harsh gale of the upper air, his body carried along by Zhou Xu, skimming past the beast...

As for the fifth era, it began twenty years after the end of the fourth. When the military government handed power back to the civil government, after two years of administration, they discovered that social problems were insurmountable, and the Day of Slaughter was reinstated.

With a clang, the long spear dropped to the ground; he staggered and nearly fell onto his seat.

They could also annihilate the lofty gods, tempt and drag those beings into the depths of hell, and devour the divine entities that once stood above all.

Those horses were the famed divine steeds of the Eight Wilds, called Black Cloud Steeds. Swift as the clouds and enduring as the wind, they were prized throughout the Central Plains, worth their weight in gold. In the world of the wilderness, only a grand faction like the Fantasy Sea could casually gather a hundred riders like this.

Zheng Qingshui was furious, feeling utterly mocked. Since his debut, no one had dared to challenge him—even the divine generals treated him with respect and wouldn’t dare act so boldly.

Leviathan spread its wings anew. The group had arrived at the central region of the far north, and at this moment, everyone held their breath.

With nearly two thousand from the five War Tribe clans, plus an equal number of mounts, it was effortless for him to annihilate the army at the foot of the mountain. After assigning battle tasks, he charged down from the summit.

My head aches; I was already worried about explaining things to the old natives. Now, both sides have suffered casualties after a disagreement. If I hadn’t desperately tried to intervene, those fifty-plus captured natives would have been dead by now.

A faint musty smell lingered in the room. Zhang Yang frowned and searched around, finding a water stain on one of the walls—apparently the upstairs waterproofing was less than ideal.

Zhao Tiezhu had thought Master Haza was a man of boundless abilities, as if nothing in the world escaped his knowledge, and expected him to be a very stern old monk.

Once again, the Sanskrit incantation descended. The three fire qilins were blasted away, and the bearded Taoist was nearly at death’s door, showing obvious weakness.

It was laughable—among the dozen or so races of the primordial world, from peak Grand Saints to ordinary Sages, not a single one dared turn back to fight. All knew that if they ran too slowly, they would be destroyed, so they fled desperately.

Liu Fan, Zhang Chao, Feng Yiren, and Zhao Ziyue stared in disbelief, unable to comprehend what Guan Jinlin meant by “taking the initiative.”

Originally, Zhao Tiezhu had followed Jin Baiwan to the Tenglong Group. When he saw Jin enter the elevator, he waited for it to return and slipped inside as well.

Yet, upon hearing that the Zheng clan had handed military command to the young master, this time Wang Shichong did not hesitate. He broke camp and marched at full speed toward Jiangyue City.

The freshest hay was placed atop the tongue; when a deer slipped its head into the loose snare to eat the grass, it would trigger a sensitive mechanism made from a forked branch, causing the pole to snap back and tightening the snare instantly.

Elite divination witches—Alice’s success rate was less than thirty percent, meaning of five daily attempts, at most two would succeed. For ordinary witches, Alice’s rate could reach seventy percent, guaranteeing at least three successes per day.

After a moment’s hesitation, he decided to see what was going on first. If trouble arose, it wouldn’t be too late to fight his way out.

The young man was polite, spinning the teacup in his hand and nodding with a smile at Ye Jinghong.

Human nature was destroyed here. Gazing at the corpses, Ye Jinghong’s expression grew more complicated—those who claimed righteousness were committing unspeakable slaughter. Whether they deserved to die was no longer clear.

Sabo said, as his fist clashed with Ace, “You really are lucky—bought a fruit worth billions for the price of fruit, and it’s a Logia type. By the way, where’s Luffy? Do you know what he’s up to?”

When the clouds grew dense enough, Ling Junyi suddenly sensed a strong danger, awakening from his state of mental clarity. He looked around the silent surroundings, finding nothing amiss.

To disturb someone’s sleep is like killing their parents. Just as he was about to flare up, the ringtone startled him. He grabbed the phone by the bed and pressed the answer key.

Shen Yu had calmed down by now, his mind clear. Clapping his hands, he praised, “What a cunning stratagem! Yet I have a question—why did you help me, Brother Zetao?”

“You haven’t experienced the allure of money, so you say such things!” Lei Ming rolled his eyes at Qian Yiduo.

“He is the martial alliance leader, Seleng’e,” Qi Mo sighed softly. He never expected Seleng’e to let them go so easily—was it merely because of their former acquaintance?

She steadied herself, gathered her courage, and finally stepped out the wooden door, only to be confronted by a horrific scene.

Several employees, having worked hard all day, managed to finish their overtime just before the last bus. Rubbing their sore backs, they turned out the lights and left the company, only to be scared stiff in an instant.

Ma Yao was clearly terrified of monsters. Normally, she wouldn’t fear ordinary ghosts, but these creatures could hardly be called normal, making it impossible to remain calm.

But this unsettled Su Liuli, who was next in line to compose poetry. What did this mean? Was her poetry not good enough? She could write too—what’s so special about it?

Later, as war broke out and Yunnan was placed under martial law, she could no longer see Yao Tang. Tossing and turning, she wanted to find her at the Prince of Pingxi’s mansion, but on her way through Kunming, she couldn’t overcome the local thugs.

After much hesitation, Anran finally sat by the phone—each room on the second floor had its own phone, so there was no worry about being overheard.

Some cultivators still tried to get by unnoticed, gritting their teeth as they tossed extra magic treasures and spirit stones down into the mountains below.

Ding Yumeng suddenly felt Yan’s grip on her hand tighten—a feeling that seemed anything but good.

The monster’s neck was long, its shoulders sloping downward. It was said that those who died by hanging took on this form. It slowly twisted its neck to an impossible angle, stiff as a marionette.

Considering the obvious stimulating effects of some medicines, if one combined them with targeted training, reaching the skill of those three waves of black-clad men might actually be possible.