Black mountains stood shoulder to shoulder, entirely bare. Where could there possibly be fallen petals from exotic blooms or drifting leaves from divine trees? Not a single blade of grass grew here; there was only terrifying astral wind.
The black currents of air were like blades. Over countless years, they had sheared off an entire tier of the high peaks here. Had there not been immortal patterns within the mountain bodies, this place would likely have been swept flat long ago.
At the fringes of the black tempest's aftermath, Qin Ming stood steady as a rock. Watching the howling winds, he opened his Eye of the Newborn, his spiritual field resonating in tune with the wind's vibrations.
There was one thing Number Four had not lied about: torn pages of a bronze book were indeed drifting in the wind. However, they were not physical objects, but rather the Daoist rhyme manifested from certain doctrinal principles.
Qin Ming was currently circulating the Wind-Riding Scripture, fusing as one with the black astral wind to capture these very doctrines.
He was still far from the badly battered fan atop the black mountain ahead. To have obtained torn pages of scripture without even emotionally resonating with it was truly extraordinary.
"It is about to be destroyed; its condensed Daoist rhyme is dispersing." The Eight Trigrams Furnace's weapon spirit seemed touched by an unspeakable melancholy—meeting an "old friend" here, only to watch it gradually perish.
A ripple of emotion stirred in Qin Ming's heart as well. That fan was an item from ancient mythology, yet it had actually rotted away. Just what had it been through?
However, comprehending the scripture was what mattered most right now.
Outsiders could hardly imagine that doctrinal principles actually drifted within the mountains' black astral wind.
In truth, this had also been Number Four's objective; he wanted to fish out those bronze scriptural pages.
"As a team leader, instead of protecting us, how could you be so vicious as to lure us here to feed a demon..." Those who had not yet died struggled, their faces filled with indignation, resentment, and terror.
Number Four was finishing them off, casting the remains one after another into a pitch-black fissure in the ground.
Some were still alive when he kicked them down.
Beneath the earth, a bloody mist churned. Those who fell broke into pieces, letting out shrill, terrified shrieks, followed by the sound of a creature chewing flesh and bone.
Number Four frowned and asked, "One person broke through and didn't die here. Why didn't you stop him?"
From within the bloody mist of the fissure, a creature responded, "He accelerated abruptly and slipped through by fluke. But if he wants to leave this place, he will have to pass through here on his way out. He will still die."
"Could it be you want to prop up another person so he can find blood food for you too?" Number Four was deeply suspicious.
"Clothes are best when new, but friends are best when old. Rest easy."
Number Four asked, "What level is that kid at? He couldn't actually pose a threat, could he?"
"His cultivation realm isn't as high as yours, so what are you afraid of? Why haven't you gone to comprehend the Dao yet? That is a treasured fan from Doushuai Palace, after all, containing unfathomably profound principles."
Hearing this, Number Four delayed no further and charged into the black mountains.
"Where is he? Could he have been blown to pieces by the astral wind?" He knit his brows tightly.
Having entered the black astral wind, Qin Ming's figure blurred until he seemed to vanish entirely.
Although the harboring-malice and thoroughly venomous Number Four was behind him, Qin Ming felt no fear at all. This was the confidence he had cultivated after experiencing the great battle above the heavens and stepping into the Fourth Realm.
The opportunity before him was rare, and he did not want to miss it, temporarily setting aside all distracting thoughts.
He was certain that these doctrines were far more advanced than the Wind-Riding Scripture.
Not all extraordinary arts contained priceless "hidden troves." Even if practiced to their limits, most cultivation arts yielded nothing to excavate; extraordinary arts that could reveal a "new heaven and earth" were exceedingly rare.
In the past, when Qin Ming first met Great Yu's Fourth Princess and lent her his aid, his reward had been the Wind-Riding Scripture and the Nether Scripture. Both had long since been practiced to their limits, yet he had not unearthed any hidden trove comparable to the Great Thunder Sound Temple.
Now, full of delight, by circulating the Wind-Riding Scripture and resonating with the black astral wind here, he had essentially unearthed a wind-attribute divine trove in reality.
This was an alternative way of seeing a new heaven and earth.
Moreover, that new heaven and earth was not far away—it lay right on the mountain ahead, originating from that treasured fan.
The Eight Trigrams Furnace's weapon spirit sighed, "It is about to burn out completely, returning everything to the world's origin. This final flash of resurgence can be considered an alternative transmission of the Dao."
Within the black astral wind, as Qin Ming began employing resonant techniques, the torn pages he fished up grew clearer and gradually more complete, appearing as though they were genuinely cast from bronze.
In the end, as he strode forward, bronze pages danced and hovered around him, whirling in orbit. Lines of text radiated ripples and sank into his spiritual field; even though the characters did not belong to this era, their spiritual imprints were mutually intelligible.
Qin Ming stopped and started, soon sitting quietly beside a peculiar wind gap.
Regarding the Wind-Riding Scripture, for Qin Ming on the Newborn path, it involved wind force—possessing immense tearing power, and allowing one to ride the momentum to travel on the wind.
As for now, he had comprehended a higher-level astral-controlling scripture of terrifying might, capable of blowing away one's essence, qi, and spirit, and extinguishing one's consciousness.
Without question, this was an all-around elevation of the scripture's principles.
If he could master it, when he ascended to the Nine Heavens again, he would no longer be so passive in the face of the astral winds in the Night Mist Sea.
Qin Ming walked with difficulty, stopping from time to time to contemplate and cultivate within the black tempest. After spending more than half a day, he had still not reached the mountain's end.
However, he distinctly sensed that the astral wind beside him had softened considerably, its hostility toward him nowhere near as intense.
In addition, more and more scriptural passages circled him, looking as though more than half a book had been torn out and scattered here, the characters upon them shining brilliantly.
After contemplating for a long while, Qin Ming began climbing the mountain.
The black tempest raged as before, yet the wind close to Qin Ming grew increasingly gentle. Blazing a path through the abyss-like darkness of the wind gaps, he climbed toward the mountain summit.
He comprehended as he went, cultivating throughout the black tempest. Leaving such a prime cultivation ground unutilized would truly be a waste.
At last, Qin Ming obtained the entirety of this secret scripture that surpassed extraordinary arts. Through resonance, he had already practiced it to a respectable level, and at the very end, he even discovered portions of even higher-level doctrines.
Deep in the night, Qin Ming had arrived atop the mountain and stood before the rotting fan.
The storm did not harm him. Man and fan flowed with astral wind of the same origin, seemingly unified as one, though the wind whipped up by the fan was far stronger and more ferocious.
Had the fan not recognized Qin Ming, a black storm of this caliber would have been enough to blow his spiritual field apart.
Even on the verge of destruction, this treasure remained terrifying.
In the end, Qin Ming resonated with it until their fluctuations aligned completely. He witnessed a terrifying scene and captured the final portion of the scripture.
"The True Scripture Chapter: corroded by the black gale, an entire city disintegrates in an instant, all living beings annihilated."
Qin Ming showed a look of astonishment. When intact, a single strike from the fan could effortlessly wipe out a city, like a natural disaster descending upon the world.
In fact, that was merely the opening stance of the final scriptural page, which remained quite distant for Qin Ming—a realm currently beyond his reach.
"From riding the wind to commanding natural disasters, the leap is truly massive!"
That night, Qin Ming sat cross-legged atop the mountain, touching the rotting fan and continuously resonating with and contemplating the profound principles within.
He did not reach for what was beyond him. Having obtained the complete text, he primarily contemplated and practiced the doctrines he could grasp at his current stage, which could immediately be converted into combat power.
That night, the spiritual glow of Qin Ming's consciousness flared brilliantly, and his spiritual field rumbled.
Astral wind that could extinguish others' essence, qi, and spirit could also provide nourishment, invigorating the flames of his own spirit.
This was originally the fan used to fan the flames of the Eight Trigrams Furnace, capable of stoking the furnace's fire.
Moreover, Six Ding Divine Fire belonged to civil fire, capable of nourishing and refining the spirit. Now, with wind and fire stirring in unison, Qin Ming's mind lamp blazed gorgeously, benefiting him immensely.
"Splendid. Even if I gain nothing else, merely refining and nourishing my spirit with wind and fire like this should allow me to break through a bottleneck within a few months."
Qin Ming was delighted; he was very pleased with this Wind Classic.
Holding the rotting fan, he felt as though it would fall apart with the slightest force. This item was about to exhaust its reserves, standing on the brink of collapse.
He channeled control, wishing to make it quell the storm.
"Powerless to reverse heaven's will—it is destroying itself." The Eight Trigrams Furnace's weapon spirit was in a somber mood; being a remnant resonance of the main consciousness, it still possessed perception and emotion.
Yet even the remnant resonance of the treasured fan's true spirit had dissipated, drawing close to burning out.
Qin Ming gazed behind the mountain, his heart jolting. There lay an abyss—colossal, profound, seemingly connected to hell.
The Eight Trigrams Furnace's weapon spirit sensed that Li Qingyue and Jiang Ran were likely in the region across the abyss, yet Qin Ming did not dare ride the wind across.
Even after sensing carefully, the weapon spirit fell silent for a time.
"This abyss looks like a hole left by a finger, and it remains perilous even now!" After careful observation, Qin Ming reached this conclusion. He stroked the coarse stone wall, attempting to resonate with it.
No terrifying emotion lingered, yet in his mind's eye he vaguely saw a horrifying scene: a finger had once shattered the night canopy, and a beam of finger light had plunged down, causing this abyss to form.
That single finger strike had pierced right through the Feixian Mountain remnant range.
"The Tribulation Heaven Finger: pointing, tribulation qi arises; striking, it falls like a natural disaster." The weapon spirit sent out ripples, fragmented memories involuntarily surfacing.
Qin Ming's expression turned grave. Just what kind of great battle had Feixian Mountain experienced in the past? Accompanied by such terrifying finger light, and with even a treasured fan from Bajing Palace left to rot here, it was truly unimaginable.
He did not linger long. Having obtained the treasured fan and acquired the profound principles within, his mountain ascent was complete. It was time to settle the grudges here and conclude the cause and effect.
Number Four was very cautious. When the scriptural text he fished up in the astral wind dwindled, he retreated to the mountain entrance.
At this moment, noticing the black tempest abruptly subside, he immediately said, "Senior, what is happening? Has that treasured fan exhausted itself? Why have the astral winds receded?"
Suddenly, his eyes widened in shock. The black gales surged again, and a familiar figure came riding the wind, traversing dozens of mountains before arriving right in front of him.
"Senior..." Number Four called out to the creature within the blood-colored fissure.
The monster in the fissure remained calm, saying, "Didn't you step into the late Fourth Realm just a few days ago? Can it be you fear a mere youth? This seat is right here; go ahead and slaughter him."
Number Four had no confidence. That youth was actually riding the wind, traversing a small mountain range as if taking flight. Had he known the other had such extraordinary ability, he would never have permitted him to accompany the team in the first place.
He had no choice. His opponent's robes fluttered and whipped loudly in the black astral wind as he drew near, instantly cutting off his retreat.
Number Four spoke: "Young man, you are quite something—blessed with great fortune, great life, and great luck. If you cherish your life, then leave at once. This old man has no desire to treat you as a sacrificial offering a second time..."
Qin Ming replied, "You fed a team of newcomers who trusted you as blood food to an underground demonic creature. Does your conscience not ache?"
Number Four scoffed dismissively, his eyes cold. "There are no good people in the Feixian Mountain remnant range. To survive here, whose hands aren't stained with blood?"
Even though the law of the jungle reigned here, Qin Ming still found it impossible to strike at the innocent.
He said no more and attacked directly.
From the outset, he unleashed the newly comprehended Wind Classic, testing its true quality in actual combat.
With a resounding boom, an extraordinary black tempest blanketed the front, interwoven with mysterious patterns.
The bronze mask on Number Four's face shattered. Furthermore, the essence, qi, and spirit within his body rocked violently, nearly blown apart by the impact.
He was thoroughly shaken. How was this possible? He had already been circulating his own scriptures with all his might, guarding vigilantly, yet he still suffered such a terrible impact.
With a shout, he leaped into the air holding a phoenix-tail spear, its spearhead crimson as blood, thrusting toward his opponent within the astral wind.
Qin Ming unleashed the Wind Classic once more. In an instant, numerous cracks opened across Number Four within the black tempest, the terrifying wind force threatening to tear his body apart.
He could still withstand external injuries like this, but inside his body, the spiritual glow of his consciousness was dimming. That special wind force had invaded him, threatening to extinguish his spirit. That was truly terrifying, making him tremble involuntarily.
What kind of opponent was this? According to the demonic creature in the fissure, this youth was in the early Fourth Realm. How could he suppress him so overwhelmingly?
Roaring, he burned his essence, qi, and spirit, rekindling brilliance in his spiritual field as he thrust his spear at Qin Ming with everything he had.
Qin Ming exerted the Wind Classic to the absolute limit. Not only did he sap his opponent's essence, qi, and spirit into a withered, continuously dispersing state, but with a thunderous blast, he blew the entire spiritual glow of his consciousness right out of his body.
Number Four screamed. Even consciousness carrying the Pure Yang attribute was no match once exposed to the horrifying black tempest, quickly dispersing and extinguishing.
At the critical moment, Number Four employed a life-burning secret art. His flesh turned translucent, and his spiritual glow boiled as it struggled back into his body, leaving him trembling from head to toe.
Terrified, Number Four frantically sent a mental transmission: "Fellow Daoist, please hold your hand! This old man was mistaken. Which supreme orthodox lineage are you a holy disciple of? Please forgive my offense; I am willing to serve you like an ox or horse to atone for my crimes!"
In his eyes, a youth this overbearing, capable of slaying someone of higher standing, had to be a core disciple of a peak civilization. After all, he himself was truly not weak.
Qin Ming did not deploy the Wind Classic in full again. Instead, drawing inferences from what he learned, he used Hunyuan force to simulate certain techniques of the Wind Classic. With a boom, he jolted Number Four's essence, qi, and spirit right out of his acupoints.
Next, Qin Ming crushed forward with Hunyuan heavenly light force. The old man screamed as his essence, qi, and spirit blew apart and rapidly extinguished.
Although Number Four's consciousness possessed the Pure Yang attribute and re-manifested to flee back into his physical body, in an instant Qin Ming directly used Hunyuan force to emulate the Wind Classic's techniques, striking straight at the acupoints housing his essence, qi, and spirit and slaying him on the spot.
"Ah..." The old man let out one final shriek.
His physical body was battered and mangled, yet still intact, but his spiritual consciousness had been pierced through by Hunyuan force, crushed, and utterly extinguished.
Riding the wind, Qin Ming had never touched the ground throughout the swift destruction of Number Four. Looking down at the blood-colored crack in the ground, he peered inside.
"What a remarkable talent. Young friend, I find you far more suited to collaborating with me than Number Four. You offer me blood food, and I shall direct you to opportunities here—how about it?" Bloody mist steamed from the fissure as the demonic creature actually proposed this.
"A dried skeleton in a grave! You can't even free yourself, yet you pretend to be some senior expert? You're nothing more than a demon. I'll send you on your way," Qin Ming said.
He was not afraid; on the contrary, he possessed ample confidence. After all, he wore the Eight Trigrams treasured garment, and right now, he swiftly drew out that rotting treasured fan and waved it forcefully into the fissure.
"Didn't it completely exhaust its foundation not long ago?" Within the bloody mist, a ferocious figure appeared, seemingly formed of rotting blood and mud, roaring in terror.
In its eyes, even if a grandmaster came, it would be difficult to obtain the treasured fan. Yet this youth had returned holding it like this, acknowledged by the exotic treasure.
In truth, the rotting fan possessed no weapon spirit, having only its remnant foundation and instincts left, which it continuously released. After Qin Ming resonated with it and cultivated, he became of the same origin as it, which was why he could take hold of it and temporarily control it.
Boom!
The fissure blasted open, and a section of the mountain was sheared off. Had there not been immortal runes deep underground, this place might have ceased to exist.
Even so, this was more than enough. The figure made of blood and mud within the fissure exploded, disintegrated, incinerated, and was utterly wiped out.
"Demons and monsters ought to be purified," Qin Ming said, looking down at the fan. Twenty percent of it had blown away, turning to ash and rustling as it fell.
He showed a curious look. If calculated this way, the fan could still be used four more times.
That was provided it could be preserved and did not rot or shatter on its own.
After all, the Eight Trigrams Furnace's weapon spirit had said that barring any accidents, the fan would disintegrate on its own in the near future.
Qin Ming mused that he should find an opportunity to place the fan inside the rag. Within that densely layered special space, it might be possible to temporarily halt the dissipation of its foundation.
He scavenged the area, murmuring to himself, "Mm, my day gold is back, and I made a bit extra."
Unfortunately, there were no overly important items on Number Four. Experts from large organizations rarely carried all their belongings with them.
Only rogue cultivators like himself carried their entire net worth wherever they went.
Qin Ming departed, bypassing these black mountains and the abyss to search for Li Qingyue and Jiang Ran and regroup with the two women.
"Mm? It's quite lively here—there are actually this many people?" Soon after approaching the territory ahead, Qin Ming discovered over a dozen exploration teams.
Among them was the godkin organization that had rejected him, with core members of the Moon God, Blood God, and others active here.
In addition, Qin Ming caught a fleeting glimpse of an acquaintance: Elena, the female holy disciple of the Black Tower civilization, her waist-length silver hair paired with pristine white robes, spotless and untouched by dust.
If she was here, then Oleg, who styled himself the Lord of Yujing, was bound to be present as well.
Meanwhile, the Eight Trigrams Furnace confirmed that Li Qingyue and Jiang Ran were not far off, active nearby.
"It seems this place is quite extraordinary to attract top holy disciples and extremely formidable organizations one after another." Keeping a low profile, Qin Ming entered the area, preparing to take part.
As he went deeper, he discovered that not a blade of grass grew in this territory; scorched blackness stretched everywhere, and the ground was growing increasingly scalding.
Realizing something, he sensed carefully and said, "Solar true fire?"
Qin Ming had once felt a trace of solar true fire's aura on Grandmaster Qionghui of the sun elf race, which was vastly more terrifying than the solar fire carried by other elves.
Instantly, his heart surged. If such true fire existed here, he had to find a way to intercept some of it, as it would bring immense benefits to him.
In the Fourth Realm of the Newborn path—the Mind Lamp—if one could receive the blessing of an extraordinary fire in the early stages, it could keep the mind lamp burning perpetually, illuminating the road ahead to travel further.
He already possessed Nanming Li Fire and Six Ding Divine Fire. If he acquired solar true fire as well, that would form his own blended "Samadhi true fire." Infusing it into his mind lamp was bound to yield marvelous effects—such as cleansing and tempering his essence, qi, and spirit, making him impervious to all evils, and more.
Most importantly, his cultivation should be able to advance another step.
He had ventured out alone, traveling far into foreign domains to open up new ground—wasn't his goal precisely to elevate himself?
"I have the Golden Crow Illuminates the Night Classic. Theoretically, practicing it to an advanced realm might also give birth to solar true fire on its own, but this cultivation method is too profound."
Although Qin Ming had mastered the general framework, he had not yet achieved comprehensive mastery.
Now, if solar true fire was present and he obtained it, it would by no means be rootless duckweed. With the aid of the Golden Crow Illuminates the Night Classic, he would surely be able to nurture and refine a flame seed with "roots," making himself a source of true fire.
Full of anticipation, Qin Ming marched toward the depths of the scorched mountainous terrain.
Chapter 478