The Truth

"Still here." It was only two words, yet the night sky fell dead silent. The golden hair and beard of the lion-like non-human elder fluttered, his pupils widening in disbelief at the moderately pitched voice beside his ears. Beneath the long night, the sky full of vicious birds, flying mounts, and cold-armored knights seemed noticeably less ferocious. The other non-human ancestral masters aboard the massive warships were also shaken to their cores, looking downward with incredulous expressions. The reason they had hesitated to strike earlier was that they had been evaluating the situation and repeatedly probing the condition of the Earth Immortal's great tomb. Just moments ago, they had confirmed that all was quiet. How could a familiar, supposedly dead face suddenly answer them now? "Present Rulai!" The blond elder's gaze turned chillingly cold as he saw the broad-shouldered figure step out from the crowd. Centuries ago, he had encountered this very "prime-aged youth." "Golden Lion, didn't you claim that a single battle eradicated five hundred years of their accumulation and buried all their ancestral masters?" a sixth-realm expert of the Fire Lizard race—a newly integrated faction within the nomadic hunting armada—spoke from a massive warship, his brow furrowed with deep foreboding. "Why is he standing there completely unharmed?" Cross-shaped patterns surfaced within the lion-like elder's pupils as he glared fixedly at Present Rulai, before glancing back at the figure sitting before the immortal tomb with blood bleeding from all seven facial orifices. He stared at Present Rulai and said in a heavy voice, "During your battle with the immortal, you shed your aged mortal coil, attaining nirvana and rebirth, stepping one foot into the seventh realm." These words caused an uproar. Both friend and foe were astonished. Had Present Rulai truly taken that step in a desperate plight, finding life through death? Golden Lion said, "There is no need for concern. It is only him alone; he cannot make waves. Can a single Rulai block our thousands of troops and steeds? I alone can hold him!" Then he scanned the crowd and looked once more toward the immortal tomb. "Those remnant bones, shattered flesh, and battered suits of armor are real. Only a single Present Rulai remains; he cannot overturn the broader situation." "Are you certain?" the broad-shouldered figure before the immortal tomb asked, looking up into the night sky. "An empty fort stratagem, nothing more. Whom do you think you can fool?" A sixth-realm expert of the two-headed werewolf race spoke from both mouths simultaneously. Clad in human-crafted cyan-gold armor, he stood tall and imposing. A black-haired elder who clearly belonged to the upper ranks of the nomadic hunting civilization—his bright black eyes making him look little different from the humans below—addressed the surrounding non-human ancestral masters. "Everyone, those adept in visual techniques may inspect the immortal tomb carefully, and you will discover the truth. The bulk of their top echelon is dead!" The Fire Lizards, Feathered Serpents, and blue-eyed and gray-eyed human experts integrated during their westward expansion all began scrutinizing the immortal tomb. For a time, a rare silence settled over the vast desert. Both sides stood in wordless confrontation, neither daring to make a reckless move. On the ground, the hearts of the cultivators of the immortal path, the esoteric sect, and the Newborn path sank. Had their joy been in vain? They looked toward the white-mist-shrouded figures within the crowd and felt... could this truly be an empty fort stratagem? Were they all merely insubstantial mist conjured by Present Rulai? After all, if they were real, how could the sixth-realm experts in the night sky fail to detect them? Most critically, the bloodstains before the immortal tomb, the mutilated corpses of the ancestral masters, and the shattered armor were far too glaring, still radiating faint, authentic wisps of sixth-realm aura that could not possibly be faked. "Ancestral Masters, you..." someone's lips trembled as they looked at the all-knowing "illusions" beside them. A voice spoke from within the white mist: "Do not fear. All the grandmasters of the immortal path, the esoteric sect, and the Newborn path are here. Strive to break through to the ancestral master realm in a fight to the death and battle them to the bitter end; we may not necessarily lose." Instantly, everyone's blood ran cold. Could newly ascended ancestral masters compare to those seasoned powerhouses? Moreover, among the opposing ranks were clearly old monsters encountered during the previous wilderness pioneering campaign who had survived to the present day, likely having already caught an initial glimpse into the seventh realm. Grandmaster Ling Canghai spoke up: "Ancestral Master, please explain the roots of this nomadic hunting civilization in detail. We will fight to the death!" A figure in the white mist nodded. "At this juncture, trying to dig out the individual weaknesses of every single expert among them is somewhat unrealistic, as several centuries have passed since we last met. However, we can begin from their instincts and habits to understand their mindset and counter them accordingly." "Please elaborate, Ancestral Master!" "A nomadic hunting civilization, as the name implies, roams all regions, plundering cultivation resources and hunting other civilizations. This has already become their instinct; destruction is always easier than creation." In fact, deep within the world of night mist, such nomadic hunting civilizations were by no means rare. Medicine fields cultivated over a millennium in someone else's ancestral court or blessed land, or immortal trees transplanted two thousand years ago, could all fall into their hands in an instant through a single hunt. Rarities nurtured in peculiar Fire Springs for hundreds of years, or fortunes conceived across nine lifetimes, could easily be seized overnight through one of their assaults. The figure in the white mist continued, "A nomadic hunting civilization never ventures out without spilling blood; they are ruthless and heartless to the core. Therefore, when facing them, you must not show the slightest hint of weakness. You must be fiercer and colder than they are. You grandmasters must place yourselves in mortal danger to find life, treating this as the final battle of your lives; only then will you have a chance to turn the tide and defy fate to alter our people's destiny." All the grandmasters stood quietly, listening intently. "A nomadic hunting civilization puts mobility above all else. The moment things turn sour, they flee faster than anyone, relying on supreme flying mounts to relay and escape. Therefore, if you ever have the opportunity to encircle them, you must restrict their flexibility and speed." The grandmasters present listened in silence, feeling somewhat numb. Their own survival hung in the balance, yet he was talking about encirclement? The figure in the white mist seemed to realize he had gotten ahead of himself; reflecting on past operations that had fallen short of complete victory, he sounded somewhat regretful, reviewing past mistakes on the spot. "To the north, in their ancestral lands, countless mountain ranges and dense forests stretch endlessly. Once they flee back there and plunge into those boundless mountains, hunting them down becomes exceedingly difficult." In the past, the ancestral masters of the immortal path, the esoteric sect, and the Newborn path had gritted their teeth and pursued them for hundreds of thousands of li northward, traversing endless mountain ranges until they reached the Far North, where they were ultimately forced to give up. The so-called Far North was naturally far from the end of the world. Relatively speaking, it was merely the limit of what the ancestral masters had the capacity to explore. Going any further was fraught with extreme peril; venturing deeper might have resulted in total annihilation. The nomadic hunting civilization, having been tracked down and driven out of the northern mountains toward a dead end, had dared to push forward, deliberately hugging the territories of powerful species and perilous, alien civilizations as they moved. "In the permafrost of the Far North, Fire Springs are scarce, but a terrifying non-human race resides there. They are well adapted to the environment. Their blood carries the attribute of Great Yin, and wherever they stand, a domain of Yin soil can manifest, making them exceptionally dangerous." The ancestral master's silhouette within the white mist conveniently introduced the conditions of the distant north as well. "Passing through the frigid permafrost, one reaches an expanse of boundless magma and dense volcanic fields. There, vast groves of fire-resistant vegetation take root directly in the molten rock, lush and teeming with boundless vitality. Someone once sighted an ancient fire wutong tree with a nest upon it, suspecting that a phoenix nested there." The grandmasters shuddered as they listened. Did the creatures grow even more formidable the farther away one ventured? "Most crucially, Earth Immortal-grade entities are suspected to haunt that blistering land." The ancestral masters had never set foot there; they had only learned of it from foreign races. Continuing north past that scorching domain where magma and Fire Springs blended, humanity vanished entirely. Humans simply could not compete; the land was dominated by overwhelmingly terrifying alien species, far too dangerous to navigate. In that even more distant northern territory, the ancestral masters had not even dared approach, let alone set foot, making all rumors heard from foreign races impossible to verify. "During the migrations of certain winged races, a sixth-realm expert once attempted a long journey to explore it. It was said that the deeper north presented a primeval wilderness of ancient trees and wolfish forests, extraordinarily rich in natural resources. High-grade Fire Springs were everywhere, along with peculiar Fire Springs of various hues. The things that grew from those springs were astonishing beyond measure, of incalculable value." However, that winged expert had retreated after only gazing into the distance, as that vast domain was entirely unfit for the survival of races unsuited for combat. A single hurried glance had left an indelible impression. It had witnessed a silver rat with a divine halo behind its head devouring a four-tusked white elephant in the great wilderness. It had also seen a swarm of glowing purple flying ants, each the size of a stone millstone, hunting a flood dragon in the night sky and dragging it back into their burrow. The indigenous species were all exceedingly lethal, the competition horrifically brutal, bloody, and merciless. Before departing, the winged sixth-realm expert had even looked down from above and spotted an Earth Immortal-level entity of non-human descent playing chess with a crimson human skin atop a colossal mountain. Without looking back, it had fled immediately, not daring to linger for another moment. As for the even more distant northern lands behind that primeval territory, they were veiled entirely in fog—utterly unknown, for even the undisputed aerial overlords refused to venture deeper or explore. The grandmasters present were left speechless. With formidable enemies right before them, their ancestral master remained completely composed, casually lecturing them on the broader regional environment. The illusion within the white mist sighed. "Relative to the vast, boundless world of night mist, the domain we inhabit is truly small, as insignificant as a speck of dust. This nomadic hunting civilization first fled north and then pushed west; even measured in a straight line, their reach spans no more than several hundred thousand li, never exceeding the limit of a million li. Their sphere of activity is still merely a tiny corner." According to those winged races and other foreign beings with whom friendly exchanges had been held, humanity might no longer exist in the lands further out, replaced entirely by mysterious and terrifyingly potent races. As for the so-called Earth Immortal dynasties of humankind, they were merely unverified legends suspected to be entirely false. The ancestral master's illusion within the white mist looked at them and said, "You are all grandmasters; you must shoulder your due responsibilities, finding life through death to achieve breakthroughs here. After finishing the fight against the nomadic hunting civilization, you must rush back to reinforce our defenses. I fear that the fiend civilization deep within the Plain of Divine Demise, along with those godkin creatures, will also become restless. Relying solely on the beings of the Perils and the few ancestral masters holding the fort at home is not secure enough." Instantly, everyone's scalp went numb. Even the grandmasters stood frozen in place. The crisis before their eyes was already insurmountable, yet the ancestral master was piling on even more pressure! In truth, battlefield breakthroughs were the stuff of legends; how many could actually achieve one? Among so many grandmasters, having two or three come close would already be fortunate. Cultivation required accumulation, and breakthroughs required comprehension. When eyes were bloodshot from slaughter, who could speak of breaking through with a calm and peaceful state of mind? One could only rely on raw courage and brute force to charge ahead. "Prepare for battle. It is time for you to shoulder the burden. If you win, you must head to another battlefield; this concerns the fate of our race!" the illusion in the white mist declared. "Ancestral Master, please say no more. We cannot bear such weight!" a grandmaster said, his heart heavy. All the grandmasters of the three paths raised their weapons and brought forth their rare treasures, preparing for a fight to the death against the nomadic hunting civilization. There was no way out before them; their only choice was to fight with raw valor. Rumble! In an instant, soaring murderous intent erupted from their ranks. Meanwhile, the other youths and younger disciples bore expressions of sorrow. Their emotions had swung wildly today; a single Present Rulai staging an empty fort stratagem could hardly withstand the terrifying tide, and in the end, they still had to face the nomadic hunters atop the sky full of vicious birds and flying beasts. At this moment, several leaders of the hunting civilization scrutinized the area with their visual techniques and found that the ground around the immortal tombs was indeed strewn with broken bones—the remains of sixth-realm experts, utterly genuine. "Prepare to annihilate them!" In the night sky, several old monsters roared. The grandmasters' eyes turned bloodshot, and they immediately let out a unified roar: "Kill!" Just then, Present Rulai moved to stop them, saying, "Hold steady for a moment." "To break through a bottleneck, one must burn one's bridges and possess an indomitable spirit. Did you feel it just now? Some of you did very well, while others may still have hesitated. Regardless, these were your own authentic experiences. Remember that feeling!" The figures within the white mist rapidly solidified, revealing the true forms of numerous ancestral masters. Instantly, the entire field fell silent once more. Today, their emotions were beyond words: first, the ancestral masters had fallen, then they had revived, then only Present Rulai remained to play an empty fort stratagem, and now all of them had reappeared! Tears still glistened in the eyes of many young disciples, while the resolute expressions of those who had just been primed for a desperate fight froze upon their faces. One of the ancestral masters said, "You are all good children. How could we bear to let you all be wiped out? It is still too early for you to face sixth-realm experts directly. In a moment, prepare to hunt down those among the nomads whose cultivation matches your own; temper yourselves well!" "This time... are you truly back from the dead?" Even an immortal seed began to question reality. "Yes!" Female Ancestral Master Yu Shaohua replied. Someone asked, "The scene before us—the ground covered in bones, flesh, shattered armor... Could even the non-human ancestral masters not see through it?" Moreover, with so many ancestral masters standing right here, had the non-humans in the night sky truly sensed nothing? "A month ago, we claimed we were going to light the so-called 'Dao-igniting incense.' Did you truly think we would offer such a fine treasure for the fiendish immortals beneath the earth to enjoy?" "That was actually 'mirage incense'!" With only this brief reply, many immediately grasped the situation. Thirty-four years ago, the ancestral masters had joined forces to slay a seventh-realm mirage immortal whose greatest talent was confounding the false with the real, making it impossible to distinguish illusion from reality. In truth, the immortal tomb had never been attacked; it still stood tall ahead. One ancestral master stated, "If we wish to explore deep into the world of night mist, we must first eradicate the harassment and threats lingering nearby!" This nomadic hunting civilization had lingered outside their borders for a long time. Whenever humanity's interior was vacant, they would inevitably seize the opportunity to strike. The group of ancestral masters had been pondering how to trap them, only for the enemy to set bait first; naturally, the ancestral masters had taken the hook to turn the tables and fish for them instead. "Today, we shall wash you in blood, avenging our masters and forebears, extinguishing your heritages, and breaching your ancestral courts and blessed lands!" In the night sky, several sixth-realm non-human experts emerged, pressing down with immense weight. "I hear someone wanted to settle victory and defeat with me over three arrows?" The youthful Helian Chengyun stepped forward, a crimson mark between his brows, his scarlet-gold armor clanging loudly. In an instant, he drew his bow, firing three consecutive arrows straight into the high heavens. High above, an expert of the two-headed werewolf race widened his eyes in shock and drew his own bow in response, likewise firing three arrows, each bearing terrifying Dao charms! Rumble! Between heaven and earth, it sounded as if several suns had collided, erupting into horrifying light that illuminated the entire vast desert. When the light dissipated, the two-headed werewolf's body was trembling violently, drenched in blood. Most of the flesh on his muscular right arm had been stripped away, exposing white bone. On his right head, the scalp and ear had been ripped away, peeled clean by the terrifying arrow light. Helian Chengyun spoke indifferently: "Even you think yourself worthy of trading arrows with me? Four hundred and fifty years ago, if your elder brother hadn't shielded you with his body, you would have died long ago!" "Retreat!" The leaders of the nomadic hunting civilization were decisive, immediately preparing to withdraw their forces. Their enemy's top echelon was not dead; they had been waiting for them to reveal themselves all along. Suddenly, the desert churned. Boundless beams of runic light surged upward as thirty-six divine stakes, resembling pillars propping up the heavens, emerged to anchor the vast desert in all directions. "Golden Lion, didn't you ask if I was still in this world? This old man, Leng Mingkong, is right here!" A black-haired young man spoke as he ascended into the sky. Faster than lightning, he charged straight forward. A thunderous explosion detonated in the night sky as he traded a blow with the lion-like blond elder. Leng Mingkong's black hair billowed, vibrant with surging life force, every inch of his flesh flowing with immortal radiance. Standing suspended in midair, he resembled a Heavenly Immortal descending to the mortal realm. Golden Lion, on the other hand, was sent flying far across the sky, coughing up mouthfuls of blood. He had been hurled to the horizon by a single punch manifested from Leng Mingkong's conscious spiritual light. On the ground, many young disciples were about to cheer. An ancestral master stopped them, saying, "Wilderness pioneering is no trivial matter; do not let momentary emotion dictate your hearts. From here on, even ancestral masters may die. Prepare for battle!"