The mounted detachment formed an outer perimeter around the carriages, leaving only a single opening. In the center, they lit a campfire and set up a soup pot and barbecue racks.
The accompanying First People headed out to hunt and soon returned with a bountiful catch. The wild mountain goats found here were a staple food their ancestors had pursued for generations. Down by the river, they skinned and gutted the game, slicing the meat into strips and threading them onto skewers.
The one-eyed elder personally tended the roasting meat. The First People’s barbecue was exceptional, seasoned with their own secret blend of spices—a flavor rarely encountered in the outside world.
Gao Ming sat on a wooden stool, watching the drifting sparks. Taking off his glasses, he wiped the lenses with a soft cloth and spoke to Chen Chuan. "Cousin, the handover of the clearance documents in the state went exceptionally smoothly. Almost too smoothly, in fact. It felt as though someone was deliberately clearing the way for us."
He slipped his glasses back on, the dancing firelight reflected in the lenses. "Even with local Great Shun companies helping out, there is no way the red tape could have moved that quickly. I originally expected it to take five days, but it was settled in two."
Gui Zihan sat quietly to the side, sword cradled in his arms.
Chen Chuan was not surprised. With a faint smile, he said, "Someone wants us to find what we are looking for without a hitch so they can step in and take it afterward. They already regard whatever we uncover as theirs, so naturally they are offering us every convenience."
The one-eyed elder could not understand their speech, yet Chen Chuan’s calm tone imparted an inexplicable sense of reassurance. Once the meat was roasted to perfection, he rose at once and respectfully presented the first skewer to Chen Chuan.
Chen Chuan thanked him, accepted the skewer, and took a bite. The texture was superb—tender yet firm, infused with a rich, woodsy fragrance. As he swallowed, a subtle trace of energy uncurled and spread through his body.
This was remarkably rare. While it could not compare to creatures from the Melded Lands, it was still a direct replenishment of energy, of great benefit to any martial artist.
He reasoned that this was likely due to the unique local environment, perhaps directly linked to the Throat of the Star Spirit.
After Chen Chuan took his bite, the one-eyed elder bowed to him, then proceeded to distribute the remaining skewers among the others.
Here in their ancestral lands, the First People considered themselves the hosts. As hosts, they were duty-bound to warmly entertain these distinguished guests who had traveled so far to aid them.
After finishing his skewer, Chen Chuan retired alone to his tent and retrieved the synthetic medicine provided by the government.
For an ordinary person, this supply would have lasted more than half a year. For him, even if rationed carefully, it would only cover about a month. If he could find the necessary resources in the sacred ground, however, he would no longer have to worry about this.
He measured out a portion of the medicine and began his night of cultivation.
The night slipped away in an instant.
Upon waking the following morning, Chen Chuan assessed his condition. Because the mutated tissue was already in the process of growing, the medicine had noticeably accelerated his progress.
His foundation was exceptionally deep to begin with; every incremental gain atop that base brought a staggering increase in raw power.
Yet that was only when looking downward. When measuring himself against what lay above, things remained uncertain. He had never fought a true combatant who had fully stepped into the Mystic Profundity View, so he had no clear idea of what to expect.
Perhaps he would encounter one on this journey?
The Throat of the Star Spirit was of immense significance; the Federation was unlikely to let it slip away easily. Knowing he was here, they might very well deploy such an opponent. Moreover, he had not forgotten that operatives from the Progenitor Company were watching him as well.
By separating himself from the diplomatic mission, he had handed them an opening—one they could scarcely resist taking. If such a rival truly appeared, he might even use the clash to confirm an assessment of his own.
Faced with the prospect of imminent confrontation, he felt no fear; rather, a quiet anticipation began to stir within him.
As daylight gradually broke, the entire troop broke camp, packed up, and pressed forward, heading straight into the Silver Gauze Mountain Range.
Upon entering the mountains, the terrain was relatively gentle at first, allowing for smooth travel. Barely a soul could be seen in these parts. More than eighty years ago, the last tribal members and priests here had been thoroughly eradicated by Federation cults, and many ancient ruins had been toppled and demolished. Since then, the First People had seldom ventured into this region.
Throughout the journey, whenever they came across a worship pillar, the one-eyed elder and his companions would pause to offer reverence. If the damage was not too severe, they would set it upright again.
Such actions effectively advertised their passing to anyone trailing them, but with a mounted detachment of their size, their tracks could not be concealed anyway, so it made little difference.
After another full day of traversing the mountain paths, they arrived before a gorge at noon the next day.
According to the map, following this gorge straight ahead would lead to a major ceremonial site—an unavoidable passage on the route to the Throat of the Star Spirit. However, the entrance to the canyon was blocked by fallen boulders and sheared trunks, bearing the unmistakable marks of deliberate sabotage.
The one-eyed elder explained, "This was blocked on purpose by the Federation cults. When I was young, I followed the priests over the ridges, taking a detour that cost us several days. I still roughly remember the way around."
The man in charge of logistics stepped forward. "Section Chief Chen, if we take that detour, we will have to abandon our horses and carriages and carry only our essential supplies on foot."
Chen Chuan glanced ahead. Raising a hand, he signaled to Chaoming circling high in the sky. The bird wheeled and swooped into the canyon.
Chaoming was equipped with a specialized boundary credential capable of transmitting its visual feed directly to Chen Chuan.
Though there was no field signal here, such equipment supported short-range data exchange. Furthermore, Chen Chuan’s mental strength was formidable enough that, once he focused his concentration, he could process a massive influx of information.
A moment later, he had a clear picture of the gorge's interior. Only the opening stretch was blocked; the path further in remained intact. The gorge was extremely narrow, flanked by sheer cliffs on both sides, meaning that if one could not push through the front, the only alternative was scaling the precipitous rock walls.
That, however, would be far too cumbersome.
Chen Chuan walked forward alone and extended a hand toward the canyon mouth. The others looked on in bewilderment, wondering what he intended, while Gui Zihan could not help but raise his head to watch.
"Close your eyes," Chen Chuan said.
The crowd obeyed on instinct. The instant their eyelids shut, a brilliant flash of light flared just beyond them. A moment later came a low, rumbling roar, followed by a violent gust of air that nearly swept them off their feet.
When they cautiously opened their eyes, they saw that all the rubble, earth, and fallen timber blocking the gorge had been completely obliterated. The passage stood wide open, while waves of searing heat rippled through the air.
Everyone stared in utter shock, their breaths turning ragged. Several among them had witnessed Chen Chuan downing the monster airship with a single blow, so they managed to keep their composure.
The First People, however, reacted entirely differently. They gazed at Chen Chuan’s silhouette with sheer reverence, for that level of destructive might belonged exclusively to the Sacred Land Warriors of legend.
As the most seasoned among them, the one-eyed elder stood momentarily dazed, murmuring under his breath, "Divine Guard..."
Chen Chuan waited a short while until the boiling vapor in the gorge dissipated slightly, then said, "Let us go." Leading his horse forward, he swung into the saddle and set off at an easy canter.
The rest hurried to follow.
As they entered the gorge, they realized that not only had the debris been eradicated, but the canyon itself had been blasted wider. A radiating shockwave had altered the contours of the rock walls on both sides. In numerous places, the gravel and stone had vitrified into glass, leaving a lingering heat so intense that the ground scorched through the soles of their boots.
This sight deepened the First People's awe, while filling them with renewed vigor and confidence.
A little over an hour after their passing, a mounted troop of more than twenty riders appeared at the gorge. Every man wore a wide-brimmed rancher hat and a blood-red cloak—the unmistakable attire of the Blood Hunt Cavalry.
Taking in the scene before the gorge, the leader reined in his mount, surveyed the area, and gave a sharp whistle. "A spiritual impact? I may despise Great Shun people, but I do appreciate this fellow's directness."
He turned his head toward a middle-aged man riding beside him. "One of them is a Secret Palace martial artist. Master Baishi, we are counting on you."
Master Baishi was of mixed blood, with an elongated face, slightly prominent cheekbones, and a resolute jawline. A subtle sense of vital force seemed to pulse just beneath his skin. Dressed in a black martial arts uniform, he nodded with solemn determination. "Leave him to me."
Hearing those words, the leader felt a surge of confidence. This was a Secret Palace martial artist of the Mind Intent School who had sparred and exchanged techniques with various masters across the Federation and the Western Continent—a universally recognized grandmaster.
The man possessed a fanatical devotion to martial arts. Wherever an opportunity arose to face a formidable opponent, he would rush to be there, and his skills were said to have been honed to perfection.
Originally, the cavalry had hired the master to assist in an upcoming assault on Kawatua. Yet after merely reviewing Chen Chuan’s file, Baishi had decided on the spot to join this pursuit instead.
"Let us move, then."
The leader snapped his riding whip across his implant horse's flank, and the group galloped swiftly into the gorge.
***
It took Chen Chuan’s party more than two hours to emerge on the other side. They arrived at an open expanse dotted with geysers puffing plumes of steam, enveloped in a thin golden mist. The air carried a peculiar, refreshing fragrance, like hot spring vapor mingled with some unfamiliar flora.
The earth beneath their feet was faintly warm, and one could vaguely sense a deep, subterranean energy coursing through the bedrock.
Once they reached this area, the one-eyed elder volunteered to lead the way. Another hour passed before they halted before a cavernous, smoke-wreathed opening. Agitated with excitement, he said, "This is it! The entrance I went into last time is right here!"
Chen Chuan cross-referenced the map; this was indeed a route leading into the Throat of the Star Spirit. Casting a backward glance toward their trail, he said to Gui Zihan, "Team Leader Gui, take everyone inside first. I have some business to settle. I will catch up shortly."
Chapter 1077