Was this the Nether Saint? The Nether Lord himself? If so, this world was his. Why draw such a crowd? Bringing people to rob his own stuff?
In a flash, Lan Xiaobu pieced it together. This world was the Nether Lord’s, sure, but after his rebirth, something major must’ve gone down, something so big he couldn’t access his own past life’s world.
It was like…
Right, like Qu Peng. Qu Peng had a clone, Qia He, a quasi-saint of the Longevity Realm, who developed an independent personality and refused to merge back with Qu Peng’s main body, leading to the Blooming Love Saint Dao City.
That’s a key reason top powerhouses avoid rebirth. They leave countless soul fragments, and if they fall, those fragments gradually revive using various resources. Eventually, the reborn clones merge, restoring their original strength.
Qia He resisted merging because he knew it’d erase his individuality, leaving only Qu Peng.
Was this Nether Lord like Qia He, reborn but unwilling to merge with his other fragments? Yet he coveted his past self’s treasures. Alone, he lacked the strength to crack his own old stash, so he leaked the news, luring others to open the world for him.
If that was true, Lan Xiaobu was near certain that once the world was breached, this Nether Lord would wipe out everyone here. Ruthless move.
Boom, boom, boom! Over a hundred treasures slammed into the void, faintly revealing a defensive array. But it vanished in moments, swallowed by the foggy void again.
Lan Xiaobu got why the Nether Lord needed so many helpers. Too few, and even ten thousand years of attacks wouldn’t dent it. The array healed as fast as it was hit. Only a big, relentless assault could tear it open.
While attacking, Lan Xiaobu cautiously deployed his ruleless array flags. Others were one thing, but with the world’s owner right here, he had to be careful. At minimum, he needed a way to slip out if trapped.
Beyond setting up his array, he kept an eye on the Nether Lord.
Soon, he noticed the Nether Lord’s attacks, though light, outdid several Ninth Turn Saints combined. Only someone like Lan Xiaobu, with array mastery beyond divine into saint-tier, could tell.
On the surface, the Nether Lord’s strikes blended with the group’s, but they precisely hit the array’s nodes.
A day later, the world’s array was still self-repairing but couldn’t stay hidden. Everyone could feel the world and its formidable barrier.
Half a month later, a crisp crack rang out. Guang Ping, thrilled, shouted, “Keep it up, we’re about to break through!”
No need for his urging, everyone went all-in, except Lan Xiaobu, whose attacks looked flashy but used the least divine energy and sense.
With the first crack, the array crumbled faster. Two days later, a final snap, and it shattered into nothing.
A lush world appeared, brimming with dense chaos divine spirit energy, unmistakable to all.
No question, it held a chaos source, or such potent energy wouldn’t exist.
“Listen up, we go in together, don’t split—” Guang Ping got halfway before several figures bolted inside.
Their lead sparked a stampede, everyone else rushing in. Clearly, no one truly saw Guang Ping as boss.
Lan Xiaobu scratched his nose, feeling naive. He’d said finders keepers, as if it needed saying. These old-timers knew it was nonsense, which is why only he and that young Sixth Turn monk spoke up before the break-in.
He didn’t mind much. Without the Sixth Turn’s comment, he wouldn’t have spoken either. He’d done it to shield the kid, Guang Ping might’ve killed him otherwise.
Guang Ping’s face was ugly, his words ignored before he could finish, everyone scattering like startled birds.
Watching them vanish, Lan Xiaobu chuckled, “Thought they were all your crew.”
He hadn’t assumed everyone was Guang Ping’s, but figured twenty or thirty were loyal to him, enough to keep order.
Guang Ping glanced at him, saying coolly, “You’ll see soon enough.” He stepped in and was gone.
Lan Xiaobu sensed trouble, his divine sense wrapping around himself. His face darkened, Guang Ping had planted a mind mark on him, and he hadn’t noticed.
That wasn’t right. His Origin Dao should’ve caught any mark.
He quickly realized why. Guang Ping’s mark blended with this world’s rules, attaching like a speck of dust, undetectable.
What could he do? Entering a place, could he stop its dust from touching him? Even knowing dust was on him, he wouldn’t suspect one speck was a mark, perfectly matched to the local rules.
Guang Ping pulling that off showed he wasn’t simple, his Dao was something else to manage it so fast.
If Guang Ping marked him, he’d marked others too. That sour look earlier was either for show or real frustration at being ignored.
Lan Xiaobu left the mark alone, sure that if he found Breath Soil, Guang Ping would come running.
He sighed inwardly, these old foxes, every step a scheme. He’d thought Guang Ping had a posse to enforce his word, but inside, barely anyone listened, all chasing their own prizes. He’d thought Guang Ping’s bid for leadership would flop, yet the guy had marked everyone, ready to track any big finds.
Guang Ping’s earlier talk gave him a slight edge, a pretext to snatch stuff later.
“Looks like you’re targeted,” a mild voice said.
Lan Xiaobu didn’t need to turn, he knew it was the Nether Lord. He’d lingered outside to tail the guy, not expecting him to stay and chat.
“Sigh, I’m wondering if I should even go in. Guang Ping’s no pushover, he’s got me in his sights. If I enter, he’ll find an excuse to come at me,” Lan Xiaobu said, feigning a sigh, his tone wary of Guang Ping.
The Nether Lord paused, then said, “I don’t think you can leave. Guang Ping wove a trap-kill array into the defensive one. Anyone trying to exit faces it. He’s got you marked, how do you slip out?”
“What do I do?” Lan Xiaobu frowned, looking grim.
The Nether Lord offered, “Team up with me. I don’t like Guang Ping’s type either. Together, we’ve got each other’s backs.”
Lan Xiaobu lit up, clasping his fists, “I’m Lan Xiaobu, how should I address you?”
“Name’s Zhong, call me…”
Before Zhong Wuchi could finish, Lan Xiaobu cut in, “Great name, I’ll call you Old Zhong from now on.”
Zhong Wuchi nearly choked, he’d meant for Lan Xiaobu to call him Brother Zhong or Senior Zhong, not Old Zhong. Kids these days, no respect for elders?
“Come on, Old Zhong, let’s hunt for treasure. If we’re late and the good stuff’s gone, we’re screwed,” Lan Xiaobu said, all brash, eyes glinting with greed.
