Amid the chaos of the outside world, the valley deep within King Mountain was a haven of tranquility, where everyone was immersed in cultivation. In turbulent times, strength was the key to survival.
“Swish.”
Zhang Ruochen’s eyes snapped open, his body wreathed in pure white flames.
By refining the king-grade sacred pill and top-tier fire-element divine objects, he had successfully transformed the Pure Extinguishing Divine Fire from Minister Flame to Emperor Flame.
Emperor Flame was fundamentally superior, its power far beyond Minister Flame, capable of melting even king-grade weapons.
He had also fully refined the million divine rules in Yan God’s leg, unlocking its terrifying divine power.
Additionally, Zhang Ruochen integrated five top-tier Five Elements divine objects into his body, perfecting his Five Elements Chaos Body. Except for his vulnerable organs and brain, his body was nearly fully immortalized.
If he chose, he could forge an Immortal sacred body and break through to the Immortal Great Saint realm with minimal effort.
However, he refrained. The deeper his foundation as a Saint King, the stronger he’d be as a Great Saint. He aimed to push his sacred path rules and physical immortalization to the Saint King realm’s limits.
“Transforming the Pure Extinguishing Divine Fire was no easy feat. Even with the king-grade pill and top fire-element divine objects, it took twenty-eight years. Without enough divine stones from True Dragon Island, I might have had to give up midway,” Zhang Ruochen mused.
He’d planned for a decade, but it took nearly triple that time.
Retracting the Emperor Flame, he murmured, “Pity I couldn’t form the Truth Realm. I’m just short, but without the Truth Temple’s secret methods, it’s incredibly difficult.”
Over the years, his Truth Path rules had grown to 680,000, 200,000 shy of tenfold attack power. Without the Truth Realm, even reaching the rule threshold wouldn’t unlock that potential.
Any sacred path’s rule limit in the Saint King realm was one million, with increasing difficulty as one progressed.
Despite possessing 39/10,000ths of the Truth Mystery, Zhang Ruochen’s Truth rule cultivation speed had slowed significantly.
With cultivation treasures and the Key to the World Gate’s influence, he gained 15 million sacred path rules during this retreat, totaling 60 million.
His spatial rules reached 610,000, time rules 570,000, sword path rules 880,000, palm path rules 790,000, and fist path rules 770,000—all significantly improved.
With his current strength, he could defeat Jin Hui Great Saint without risking spacetime force.
Glancing at those around him, Zhang Ruochen nodded approvingly.
In twenty-eight years, with ample resources, everyone’s cultivation had surged.
Devouring Sky Rabbit and Demon Ape had reached the Path’s Domain realm, strong enough to be elites in any great world.
Xiao Hei had completed the valley’s array, turning it into a true cultivation sanctuary while securing the Key to the World Gate.
Not disturbing the others, Zhang Ruochen stored the Sundial and left the valley alone.
He had seven divine stones left, saved for potential future needs.
A cyan holy light shot from his sleeve, forming a hundred-li-long cyan dragon, exuding vast dragon might.
It was the Cyan Sky Saint Dragon, captured by Zhou Yu from the Barbaric Secret Realm. A primordial relic with a bloodline rivaling the Devouring Serpent Dragon, it far surpassed it in power.
Zhou Yu hadn’t tamed it, but Zhang Ruochen had.
The dragon submitted for two reasons: Zhang Ruochen’s overwhelming strength and the allure of the Dragon Transformation Grass.
After refining the grass, the dragon’s divine bloodline was fully awakened, nearing true dragon lineage.
A true dragon, pre-divinity, was rare post-Middle Ages. Only Ao Xin Yan in the Kunlun Realm had achieved pure dragon lineage, catching a forbidden figure’s eye in the Yin-Yang Sea.
Though not yet a true dragon, the Cyan Sky Saint Dragon’s strength had grown, potentially capable of defeating Zhou Yu now.
“Clack.”
Footsteps approached.
A gaunt old man appeared, eyeing the dragon greedily.
“What a plump dragon. Bet it tastes amazing,” he said, licking his lips, nearly drooling.
Furious, the dragon descended, blasting fiery breath at him.
The old man, seemingly frail, dodged nimbly, retreating while glancing at Zhang Ruochen. “Zhang Ruochen, control your dragon! It’s freaking me out.”
Zhang Ruochen frowned, itching to thrash him but restraining himself.
This was his third encounter with the old man at King Mountain. The first was during a disturbance, when he emerged from the ground, claiming to be a tomb raider. The second, he tried drugging the saints, nearly affecting Fairy Hundred Flowers.
Slippery as he was, Zhang Ruochen couldn’t catch him.
Even now, he couldn’t see through the old man’s origins or power.
“Old man, why are you still here?” Zhang Ruochen asked, eyes cold.
The old man grinned. “Didn’t I tell you? I’m the Zhang Clan’s guardian. With the clan’s ancestral ground here, I must stay.”
“If you won’t come clean, I’ll have to act,” Zhang Ruochen said, his gaze sharpening.
He unleashed spatial rules, locking a five-hundred-li domain.
Now, he could challenge late-Immortal Great Saints.
“Roar!”
The dragon attacked, its massive claw forming a storm vortex, cutting off the old man’s escape.
“Yo, Zhang Ruochen, what’s this about?” the old man yelped, dodging swiftly.
To Zhang Ruochen’s surprise, despite the locked space, the old man moved freely, unaffected.
Astonished, Zhang Ruochen summoned a spatial storm.
The storm swept broadly, unavoidable.
Yet, the old man, without sacred techniques, tore through it with his body, calming it instantly.
Zhang Ruochen’s eyes twitched. His spatial storm, unstoppable by ordinary Immortal Great Saints, was effortlessly dispelled.
How?
He’d thought the old man a top nine-step Saint King, but he’d underestimated him.
No wonder he stayed at King Mountain, fearing discovery. His strength wouldn’t be tolerated in the Kunlun Realm.
Zhang Ruochen paused, asking gravely, “You’re no Saint King, nor of this era. Who are you?”
He realized the old man was a revived being, likely awakening during their first meeting.
That unremarkable King Mountain had become an awakening land with a revived powerhouse was staggering.
“We’re both Zhang Clan, so let’s talk nicely. Why fight? These old bones can’t take it,” the old man said, chuckling, rubbing his back.
The dragon, sensing his power, retreated to Zhang Ruochen’s side, wary.
“Rumble.”
A commotion erupted from King Mountain’s depths.
Zhang Ruochen turned, eyes gleaming. “The folded space is expanding, widening King Mountain.”
In that moment, the old man vanished.
Zhang Ruochen’s spatial domain couldn’t trace him.
Pondering briefly, he stored the dragon and teleported deeper into King Mountain.
With his strength, he was qualified to explore, confident in self-preservation.
The deeper regions had denser sacred qi, almost tangible, laced with divine qi, creating a holy scene.
Entering, Zhang Ruochen was drawn to something.
On a rock wall, a massive cyan dragon, hundreds of zhang long, coiled, absorbing sacred qi.
“Panlong Vine,” Zhang Ruochen said, eyes bright.
Not a true dragon, but an eon-level sacred herb.
Ordinary herbs, even 100,000-year-old ones, wouldn’t interest him, but this was different.
Sensing the vine, the dragon poked its head from Zhang Ruochen’s sleeve, staring eagerly.
“Master, I need it,” it said excitedly.
Zhang Ruochen knew the vine’s immense value to dragons, enhancing them comprehensively.
But this aggressive eon-level herb was formidable, not easily subdued.
“Roar.”
The vine let out a deafening dragon roar, lunging at Zhang Ruochen.
“Swish.”
The dragon flew out, growing massive, clashing with the vine.
Zhang Ruochen strode deeper, unconcerned about the dragon’s ability to handle the vine.
Along the way, he passed numerous high-quality sacred herbs, many ancient, valuable even to Saint Kings.
He found three 100,000-year-old herbs, rare and coveted by nine-step Saint Kings.
He left them, as King Mountain was sealed, ensuring they wouldn’t escape.
Having given the Seven Dragon Pill Furnace to Xiao Hei, these herbs could yield high-tier pills.
After crossing several sacred mountains, Zhang Ruochen halted.
Ahead lay a unique area, bathed in radiant nine-colored divine light, holy like a pure land.
Approaching, his heart calmed, enveloped in serenity.
Through the light, he saw countless low hills, too many to count.
Each hill was distinct, fronted by massive tombstones shrouded in ancient Great Saint rules, their forms obscured, exuding potent Great Saint aura.
“Are these Great Saint tombs?” Zhang Ruochen thought, shocked.
The Saint Ming Zhang Clan’s royal tomb forest, with nine Great Saint ancestors’ graves, resembled these hills.
The possibility staggered him. The visible tombs numbered over a thousand.
Did this mean over a thousand Great Saints were buried here?
Had all Kunlun Realm’s Great Saints from some era perished and been interred here? That seemed impossible.
Great Saint aura lingered strongly, undiminished by time.
Curious, Zhang Ruochen approached, but near the nine-colored light, spatial ripples formed underfoot, and terrifying saintly might surged, threatening to tear him apart.
As he prepared to resist, his bloodline stirred, and the saintly might inexplicably receded.
The pressure eased significantly.
“Why did the might retreat like a tide? My bloodline just pulsed uniquely,” he wondered, forming a theory.
He pressed on, expending great effort to reach a hill.
A stone tablet stood before it, inscribed with intricate, non-modern scripts.
“The ancient aura… these Middle-aged scripts carry Great Saint mystic charm. A force obscures them, making them hard to read even with my saintly eyes,” he said, heart racing.
He unleashed his mind power to decipher the inscriptions.
To his surprise, the scripts were more arcane than expected, challenging even his mental strength.
With full focus, he decoded the text:
“Tomb of North Star Saint Lord Zhang Linzu.”
Zhang Ruochen’s eyes narrowed. “A Great Saint’s tomb…”
Over a thousand such tombs—unthinkable.
“North Star Saint Lord, Zhang Linzu… why does that feel familiar?” he murmured.
He moved to the next tomb, wrapping his mind power around its tablet.
“Tomb of Mysterious Shadow Emperor Zhang Tianshu.”
He pondered. “Zhang Linzu, Zhang Tianshu…”
“Those are Middle-aged Zhang Clan ancestors from our genealogy!” he realized.
The Mid-Domain Zhang Clan had a glorious history, birthing Great Saints across eras, with dozens enshrined in the Ancestral Shrine.
He produced the Zhang Clan’s ancient, incomplete genealogy.
Soon, he found Zhang Linzu and Zhang Tianshu, prominent figures in the clan’s history.
“Could this be the Zhang Clan’s legendary lost ancestral ground?” Zhang Ruochen’s heart pounded.
An old text mentioned a Zhang Clan ancestral ground, ruined in the late Middle Ages, lost to descendants.
Could Cloud Martial County’s Zhang Clan and the Saint Mid-Domain Zhang Clan share one lineage?
But why so many Great Saint tombs? Were they all Zhang Clan ancestors?
