Enlightenment: Attaining the Dao at Age 8

Chapter 231 - 142: A Cultivator Descends, the Ten Thousand Souls Banner



Chapter 231 - 142: A Cultivator Descends, the Ten Thousand Souls Banner

However, the version that was released to the public was not merged with the Martial Scripture.

The commotion caused by this Cultivation Technique was no less than when Li Chang’an had first passed down the Martial Scripture. In some ways, it was even greater.

There were two reasons for this.

First, this Cultivation Technique came from a Cultivator.

Second, after cultivating this technique to its highest level, it could extend a Martial Artist’s lifespan by a thousand years.

A thousand-year extension to their lifespan...

This was the dream countless Jianghu Martial Artists had longed for.

After releasing this technique, Li Chang’an bluntly told all Martial Artists that it was merely the most basic of Immortal Cultivation Techniques that Cultivators possessed.

As long as they could kill a Cultivator and seize their technique, they had a chance to torture even more powerful Cultivation Techniques out of them and extend their lives for many more years!

This was undoubtedly more effective than any slogan.

The eyes of Martial Artists across the land turned red. Some madmen even tried to cross through the gates, attempting to travel in reverse to the Cultivators’ world to kill them.

...

Spring passed into autumn, flowers bloomed and fell.

In the blink of an eye, Li Chang’an turned forty.

One day, the great gates situated at the four corners of the Li Yang Continent suddenly burst with light. Blood-red Array Patterns flashed in overlapping layers. After trembling for a long while, one of the gates was pushed open, and a figure as graceful as an Exiled Immortal emerged.

The figure strolled out of the glowing gate, his expression sour.

He sighed and muttered, ’The treasures in this minor world were plundered clean long ago. All that’s left is a bunch of native Martial Artists. I can only use their flesh and blood to nourish my Human Emperor Banner. And even for this, the Immortal Palace is still charging five thousand Spirit Stones this year. Why don’t they just go rob someone?’

At this, the figure paused, then sighed again. ’Heh, then again, robbery probably isn’t even this profitable!’

’Whatever. I’ll just harvest more blood-food this time. While I’m at it, I’ll see if I can catch that damned World-Devouring Whale. If I fail again, I’m not coming back. I’ll end up taking a loss for sure!’

The figure took a few silent steps, preparing to find the contact he’d left behind to inquire about the current situation in the Lower Realm.

But when he looked up, he saw that the thin mist and the Array that should have enveloped the area outside the glowing gate had both failed. The various Spiritual Medicines and treasures he had planted two thousand years ago had also been plucked clean.

A trace of bewilderment appeared in the Cultivator’s eyes.

He had come to this world several times and knew his way around, but he had never encountered a situation like this.

Before he could even collect his thoughts, a few burly men rushed over. After sizing him up, their faces tense, one of them asked, "Who are you?"

The Cultivator snapped back to reality.

’Just a bunch of natives, and they dare to speak to me like that?’

This irritated him considerably.

But since he had just arrived in the Lower Realm and was still unclear on the situation, and because the scene before him was so bizarre, he suppressed his urge to go on a killing spree. With a cold snort, he said, "And who are you? Why have you trespassed upon the Array I laid?"

He glanced around before adding, "And what about the Spiritual Medicines I planted here?"

Upon hearing this, the burly men exchanged glances, each seeing a strange look in the others’ eyes. One of them asked cautiously, "You said this is the Array you laid down... so does that mean you’re a Cultivator?"

The Cultivator froze for a moment at his words.

’Didn’t I tie up all the loose ends last time?’

’How do these people know I’m a Cultivator?’

’Could it be that those dogs of mine betrayed me and gave me up?’

’No, that shouldn’t be possible!’

The Cultivator sensed that something was amiss.

But he didn’t panic. They were just a group of natives, after all, and he’d killed their kind countless times. Even if his identity was known, it would just be a minor inconvenience.

He nodded, about to speak.

But before he could get a word out, the men turned and bellowed, "The Cultivator’s here! The Cultivator’s here! The Cultivator’s here!"

"Brothers! Quick, get word to Alliance Leader Li! The rest of you, grab your weapons! We’re going to capture this Cultivator and torture the secret to longevity out of him!"

His voice was so immense it made the ground tremble slightly.

The Cultivator was startled. His eyelid twitched, and his voice turned to ice. "Natives, do you have any idea who you’re speaking to?"

As he spoke, more and more Jianghu Martial Artists were gathering around.

The crowd stared at the Cultivator as if he were a monkey in a zoo. One of them, his face beaming with joy, said, "Of course we know! You’re a Cultivator, right? We’ve been waiting a long time for you!"

Seeing himself surrounded and gawked at by a pack of natives like a rare zoo animal, the Cultivator finally lost his patience.

According to his usual routine, he would always appear silently, first finding someone to scout out the world’s current power structure, and only then would he begin his slaughter, working his way from the top down.

But something had clearly gone wrong this time. He didn’t know what had gotten into these men, but one shout was bringing more and more people.

The Cultivator’s face darkened with annoyance.

He reached into his Storage Bag and pulled out a Banner.

The moment the Banner appeared, the entire world seemed to plunge into the Fengdu Ghost Realm. A sinister wind howled, and ten thousand ghosts cried out.

A dense, ghostly aura enveloped the entire area.

The Cultivator’s voice was as cold as black iron forged in Hell. "You ignorant natives," he said flatly. "You dare make a move against me? Today, I will grant your wish. Go on and have a good time inside my Human Emperor Banner!"

With that, the Cultivator fiercely waved the Ten Thousand Souls Banner.

The sky filled with Evil Ghosts weeping tears of blood. Baring their fangs and brandishing their claws, they pounced on the Martial Artists below.

Under normal circumstances, the Martial Artists of this world should have been unable to resist the attack of the Ten Thousand Souls Banner.

Every two thousand years, he would meticulously purge this world of its Cultivation Techniques, ensuring that none related to the Divine Soul were ever left behind.

This time, however, the reaction of these natives gave him a nasty shock!

...


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