Dang, dang, dang!
The bell for evening rest rang out. Though the Power Shamans still longed for more, they had no choice but to disperse.
There was no night in the Desolate Realm, yet living beings still required rest; hence, Fengmang Fortress had established bells for day and night. Whenever the bell tolled, the Power Shamans would rotate shifts and rest accordingly. Now that the evening bell had chimed, Wei Yuan's shift was over.
The Power Shamans were thoroughly reluctant to leave. Wei Yuan could name nearly every Power Shaman present, and while his advice was simple, it struck straight to the heart of their issues. After just a moment's reflection, many found that his pointers were spot-on. Canines, felines, hooved or unhooved—all bowed in admiration.
Though these Power Shamans were all battle-hardened veterans, they had previously fought largely on instinct, and many long-standing habits left considerable room for improvement. Through the lens of the otherworldly realm, Wei Yuan saw their combat methods and force-exertion techniques as exceedingly crude, devoid of finesse. Many had later grafted on numerous additional organs yet continued fighting exactly as before, failing to fully utilize their new parts and naturally falling short of their true potential.
Wei Yuan had not even needed to conduct a deep analysis; the surface flaws he pointed out were already enough to make this crowd of Power Shamans revere him like a god.
Once the crowd dispersed, Wei Yuan began pondering the differences between humans and Shamans.
The otherworldly realm Wei Yuan had experienced was a world of the human race, just as Xu Wenwu had hailed from a human world. Compared to races like the Shamans, the Liao, the Sea Folk, and the Mountain Folk, humans themselves were quite frail, which forced them to strive for absolute perfection in combat.
Although humans in the otherworldly realm possessed no superhuman might, their study of martial arts was exceptionally profound. Their various ways of exerting force were refined through relentless drilling, pushing mortal combat strength to its absolute limit.
The Power Shamans, on the other hand, were perhaps born with formidable physiques and had countless powerful organs they could swap in. They had no shortage of divine powers, only lacking the path to take that final leap upward. Consequently, their fighting style was crude and savage, brutal and straightforward—meaning it still held immense room for improvement.
The environment of the Desolate Realm also puzzled Wei Yuan greatly.
Shutting himself alone in his room, Wei Yuan probed his surroundings with divine consciousness and established the environmental parameters. He then took out a small iron ball, shaping it with Dao power until it became a perfect sphere. Next, he found a flat board, aligned it parallel to the ground, and set the iron ball upon it. The iron ball slowly began to roll on its own, dropping off one end of the board.
Around Fengmang Fortress, though the terrain had slight undulations, it was overall a vast desert plain. Wei Yuan ran various tests and verifications, ultimately arriving at a truly preposterous conclusion: the entire Desolate Realm was tilted!
Just as Wei Yuan was pondering what this conclusion implied, Yanhu's voice rang out from outside the courtyard. "Groundhog! The boss approved your clearance. Come with me to the Library Hall!"
Wei Yuan rose and stepped out, finding Yanhu standing in the yard, looking over the various pieces of equipment. During the day, Wei Yuan had not merely explained techniques and lectured; he had also personally repaired minor damages that could be mended on the spot, and the tools had not yet been stowed away.
Yanhu pointed at the equipment and said, "You can't leave this stuff out in the open when you aren't using it. When flame demons attack, you only get less than an incense stick's time to react. With so much equipment, you'll never manage to haul it all down to the basement in time. Tell you what: I'll send Hamster's servants over to lend you a hand, and in a few days I'll pick out a few bright ones to follow you. Then I'll check around for a larger building to clear out for your use, so you won't have to lug everything out into the yard every time."
Wei Yuan knew this was largely thanks to his hard work throughout the day. In Fengmang, life-and-death battles occurred at any moment, making everyone thoroughly pragmatic: whoever could fight, or whoever could bolster the fortress's combat strength, received better treatment.
Of all places in the fortress, the Library Hall was where Wei Yuan wanted to go most. The Desolate Realm held far too many mysteries, far stranger than the Nether Cold Realm. Nor were the Power Shamans as frail as they seemed in the Native Realm.
Judging strictly by the Nether Shamans Wei Yuan had encountered in the Nether Cold Realm, the Desolate Shamans here could utterly thrash them. Only Hongye, standing far above the rest, was an exception.
Yanhu was a Shaman of few words. On the way, he merely offered Wei Yuan a word of praise before asking what he needed. Wei Yuan gave his standard response: he wanted information and sacrificial power; nothing else was required.
From the outside, the Library Hall was an unassuming flat-roofed stone building. Its stones were fitted seamlessly together in a rugged, primitive fashion, though the stone door in the center was exceptionally smooth, showcasing superb cutting craftsmanship. The doorway was not tall; Yanhu had to stoop slightly as he entered. Of course, for an ordinary human of Wei Yuan's height, he could not brush the lintel even if he leaped.
Stepping inside, the first things to meet the eye were books of jade paper resting within stone boxes. Yet the true Library Hall was not aboveground, but below. Three full subterranean levels had been excavated, packed with books.
Yanhu said, "What we have most here is the fortress's history, followed by the history of the Desolate Realm. Over there is information on various desolate worms and flame demons. The floor below contains the construction and usage methods for all city defense installations, defensive tactics, weapons, and armor. That next floor should be what interests you.
"The lowest floor can't be opened to you yet. The boss said once you've saved up a thousand merits, you'll be allowed into the third floor."
Hearing this, Wei Yuan grew somewhat curious. "What exactly is on the third floor?"
Yanhu lowered his voice conspiratorially. "The third floor holds the cultivation directions for Desolate Realm Power Shamans, including Body Tempering methods, mindscape world development, and various Desolate Roar combat techniques. That floor was only carved out after Boss Ronglong arrived, and every single cultivation method inside was personally reviewed and revised by Boss Ronglong. Let me tell you, it even contains quite a few of Boss Ronglong's exclusive mental techniques. Don't go blabbing about this outside."
Wei Yuan's interest was piqued. Wasn't that Ronglong's Dao path? And from the sound of it, Ronglong possessed immense ambition, having prepared more than one path. If so, a requirement of one thousand military merit points was hardly excessive.
The military merit system of Fengmang Fortress was straightforward: as a baseline soldier, surviving a single day in the fortress earned one point of military merit. Killing an ordinary flame demon was worth one point, a desolate worm ten points, a qinlong a hundred, and small war beasts were fifty for one point.
Merits came solely from active service and slaying enemies; there were no other means.
As a basic rodent rank, Wei Yuan received a baseline of one merit point per day. If promoted to the canine or feline tier, that would become two points.
Mad Bull was rank three, earning three merit points daily. But rank four doubled, rank five doubled again, and rank six received no daily merit points. Currently, only two Desolate Shamans were at rank six.
Wei Yuan calculated his merits and remarked, "I should have two military merit points now. Looks like it won't take too long."
If he could gain access to a Dao path of Ronglong's caliber, Wei Yuan felt a thousand merit points was a bargain. A stone from another mountain could polish one's jade; studying more materials on Dao paths—even those of the Shamans—could only benefit him.
Yanhu chuckled. "You currently have three hundred forty-two military merit points."
Wei Yuan was taken aback. "There isn't a mistake?"
"No mistake. The boss confirmed it personally. You forged a Desolate Shaman-grade treasure blade for Little Bull. Honestly, that shadowy tiger made even my mouth water. Too bad its spirituality has already formed a deep karmic tie with Little Bull and can't be severed, or I'd have found a way to buy it off him no matter what. He's an ox—what's he doing taking a shadowy tiger as an artifact spirit? Isn't he just asking for trouble?"
Yanhu had a loose tongue; only after bellowing that out did he realize he had lost his composure. He quickly gave a dry laugh to mask his embarrassment and continued, "With that blade, Little Bull might become the sixth Desolate Shaman here. So for that blade alone, the boss credited you three hundred merits. Repairing those pieces of wargear and coaching everyone were also valuable, so the boss gave you another forty merits in total. That puts your military merits at three hundred forty."
Wei Yuan hastily said, "My thanks to the boss!"
Yanhu laughed heartily. "Boss is what we call him; you folks have to call him Castellan. Still, I reckon it won't be long before you can call him Boss along with us. Keep it up! I think becoming a Desolate Shaman won't be a problem for you; it's just a matter of sooner or later."
Remembering something, he added, "Actually, Hamster's foundation isn't bad either; all those precious medicines weren't eaten in vain. The kid is just too young and lacks seasoning. A few years tempered on the battlefield will straighten him out. No need to worry about him—as long as I'm around, he won't die."
Wei Yuan bowed with clasped hands. "Thank you, Boss Yanhu!"
Yanhu froze for a second, then burst out laughing again, clapping Wei Yuan hard on the shoulder. "Once you reach the third floor, I'll tell you where the boss hides his treasures—"
Yanhu's voice cut off abruptly.
Wei Yuan inwardly cried out in dismay. He hastily took a large step back, swaying unsteadily as if nearly toppling over.
A sharp gleam flashed in Yanhu's eyes. His face actually took on the light of wisdom, and he began to think deeply!
Wei Yuan's heart sank!
Yet there was nothing he could do now but await the outcome. If the result boded ill, he might have no choice but to strike ruthlessly, kill Yanhu, and flee the fortress. Although they had spent little time together, Wei Yuan could tell that Yanhu was upright, outspoken, and clear about his debts and grudges—a good Shaman. Unless left with no alternative, Wei Yuan truly had no desire to kill him.
Another reason was the ferocity of the flame demons' assault that day, which had far exceeded Wei Yuan's expectations. All of Fengmang had exerted at least ninety percent of its strength just to barely hold off the attack. If they suddenly lost Yanhu, pulling a single hair might move the whole body; before a new Desolate Shaman could be brought in to replace him, the fortress's casualties would skyrocket.
At this moment, Wei Yuan possessed a hundred strands of Power Shaman karmic luck and two strands of Desolate Shaman karmic luck—an immense haul. Watching the Power Shamans suffer casualties was honestly hard for him to stomach. As the sayings went, he who accepts a ruler's stipend must serve his ruler's cause, and taking gifts softens the spine, eating another's food ties the tongue. Benefiting from them only to cut and run was something Wei Yuan was reluctant to do unless absolutely necessary.
During the moments Yanhu spent in contemplation, Wei Yuan felt an acute agony unlike anything since his arrival in the Desolate Realm.
Finally, Yanhu's eyes cleared with absolute clarity. Wearing a grave expression that seemed to see right through the ways of the world, he said in a low, somber voice, "I know you must come from humble beginnings, which is why you don't dare use the Desolate Tongue casually and are so adept at hiding yourself to avoid bringing trouble down on your head. If I'm not mistaken, you must have offended some noble, haven't you?"
Wei Yuan froze, then put on a solemn look and said, "The one I offended was... a Heavenly Shaman."
Wearing an 'I knew it' look, Yanhu clapped Wei Yuan hard and boomed, "I knew it! Even Heavenly Shamans aren't all that—Lord Jiumu's hand can't reach into the War Domain either! Look at me, I've eaten a Heavenly Shaman's grandson's hind leg before. Honestly speaking though, too much fat, no chew to it. Don't you worry. What Heavenly Shaman doesn't have eighty or a hundred thousand descendants? Offending one to the death is no big deal. In any case, now that you're in Fengmang, none of that matters!"
Wei Yuan agreed repeatedly and only managed to see Yanhu off with great effort.
Yanhu's earnest thinking face had been terrifying, giving Wei Yuan a cold sweat just moments ago.
Fortunately, all Yanhu possessed was the attitude of serious thinking.
Chapter 895