Most Zhang Clan members, upon entering the tomb forest, immediately knelt in reverence, overwhelmed by the vast Great Saint aura and the sight of countless Great Saint tombs. The profound impact shook their souls, causing them to tremble involuntarily.
Even Zhang Ruochen, with his formidable cultivation, had been awestruck upon first entering. How much more intense was it for these clansmen with far weaker cultivation?
Only a few above the Saint realm maintained some composure, avoiding complete loss of composure.
The old man approached, his gaze sweeping over Mingjiang King and the others, shaking his head in disappointment.
“Just this handful of people, and such poor quality? Are you worthy of the Zhang Clan’s ancestors?”
Mingjiang King turned, frowning, visibly displeased. No matter the Zhang Clan’s state, an outsider had no right to criticize.
Unable to discern the old man’s strength, he restrained himself, asking in a low voice, “Who are you? Do you have ties to the Zhang Clan?”
The old man glanced at him, saying flatly, “I’m your ancestor.”
Mingjiang King’s anger flared.
As a nine-step Saint King, how could he tolerate such an insult?
“I’m a direct descendant with the purest Zhang bloodline, brother to the late Ming Emperor. Your words are outrageous.”
He thrust out a hand, expanding to the size of a millstone, striking at the old man.
“Swish.”
Zhang Ruochen appeared, blocking the attack.
“Twelfth Uncle, what’s happening?” he asked, puzzled.
He’d just returned from escorting the unaccepted clansmen, and in moments, Mingjiang King was clashing with the old man.
Suppressing his anger, Mingjiang King said, “Ruochen, this old fool came out of nowhere, insulting us and claiming to be my ancestor. How can I let that slide?”
Zhang Ruochen understood, knowing the old man’s knack for provocation from personal experience.
Rubbing his temples, he sent a mental message, “Twelfth Uncle, he’s truly a living Zhang ancestor, surviving a calamity from 100,000 years ago, awakened now for certain reasons. It’s a secret—don’t tell others.”
Mingjiang King’s expression shifted dramatically, his eyes widening at the old man, mind reeling.
He couldn’t fathom how this frail figure was a Zhang ancestor from 100,000 years ago, surviving such a span.
It didn’t seem possible.
After a long pause, he calmed, his anger dissipating, trusting Zhang Ruochen’s words.
“How strong is this… senior?” Mingjiang King asked mentally.
Zhang Ruochen replied, “Very strong, at least Great Saint level. He must stay in this awakening sacred land, or patrolling angels would detect him.”
Mingjiang King’s heart jolted, then surged with excitement. A Great Saint ancestor was a boon for the Zhang Clan.
“With Path’s Domain cultivation, you’re passable. Your offspring’s bloodline should be decent. Marry beautiful, high-cultivation women to expand the Zhang Clan,” the old man said, eyeing Mingjiang King seriously.
Thanks to Zhang Ruochen’s generous resources and his own talent, Mingjiang King had broken through to Path’s Domain during the retreat, giving him a one-in-ten chance of reaching Great Saint.
Mingjiang King was stunned, unprepared for such a directive.
At over a thousand years old, he’d had five wives and over a dozen children, but his low-cultivation wives had passed, and most children were gone, leaving three: two Saints and one Saint King.
For three hundred years, he’d lived alone, with no thought of remarrying.
Zhang Ruochen was speechless, feeling the old man was obsessed with procreation.
But he felt oddly relieved that the old man targeted someone else this time.
The old man continued, “At your age, a Path’s Domain nine-step Saint King is in prime condition. Your offspring will inherit your bloodline well. Though not as strong as Zhang Ruochen’s, it’s solid. Pair with Saint-realm women, and your children will be strong, possibly even geniuses.”
“With the Zhang Clan’s bloodline dwindling, as a rare Saint King, you must strengthen the clan. Without this, no preparations will revive us.”
“I’m setting a new rule: Zhang males above Saint realm must produce at least a hundred offspring.”
He spoke earnestly, not joking.
Everyone present exchanged odd looks, most confused.
Zhang Ruochen was beyond words, marveling at the old man’s audacity to set such a rule.
Suddenly, he thought of something, producing a spatial jade bottle and handing it to the old man.
“This contains plenty of Life Spring water, which can purify deathly evil. You should restore your health before pursuing that effort.”
As the Divine Sky-Connecting Tree sapling grew, especially after reclaiming its trunk, it produced abundant Life Spring, forming a pond.
The old man’s eyes lit up, snatching the bottle. “Why didn’t you bring this out sooner?”
He chugged the Life Spring eagerly.
In moments, he drained it, demanding, “Not enough. Ten or eight more bottles.”
“You think it’s river water? I’ll give you two more, max,” Zhang Ruochen said, exasperated.
That bottle held a tenth of his stock, a significant amount.
He offered it only because the old man was likely a Zhang ancestor with formidable cultivation.
The Divine Sky-Connecting Tree’s existence he kept secret.
The old man’s identity wasn’t fully confirmed, and his strength was profound. What if he tried to seize the tree?
Such a treasure could turn brothers or kin against each other, demanding caution.
The old man grumbled, “So stingy. Fine, two bottles.”
Zhang Ruochen handed over two more without further argument.
He kept the remaining Life Spring for emergencies.
Done, he ignored the old man, heading deeper into the tomb forest.
At Near-Path realm, he didn’t need Great Saint Dao Fruits, but studying the tombs’ Great Saint rules would boost his foundation, possibly increasing his sacred path rules significantly.
At his level, he needed accumulation to max out Saint King realm rules and fully immortalize his body.
The Zhang ancestors cultivated diverse paths, including time, space, and truth.
Zhang Ruochen planned to meditate at multiple tombs to deepen his foundation.
However, the forest’s potent forces limited even a top Saint King like him, restricting access to fewer than five hundred tombs.
“What’s that?”
Focusing on a Great Saint Dao Fruit, he noticed something.
With a gesture, a crystalline water droplet flew from the fruit.
Holding it, he examined it, noting, “It seems formed of dense sacred path rules.”
After a moment’s thought, he swallowed it, running the *Nine Heavens Bright Emperor Scripture* to refine it.
Soon, he opened his eyes, amazed. “It increased my sacred path rules by 100,000.”
This was just a droplet, like dew, not the fruit itself.
Incredible.
Moving to another tomb, he found another droplet on its fruit.
Having tasted success, he swiftly collected all droplets from the fruits, amassing nearly three hundred from under five hundred tombs.
“If each adds 100,000 rules, my total could near 90 million,” he said, eyes gleaming with anticipation.
Storing the droplets, he approached a tomb with an exceptionally potent Great Saint aura, its rules indicating an Unsurpassed realm ancestor—the strongest in the outer forest.
“I’ll cultivate here for a while,” he murmured, producing the Sundial.
Rapid rule growth required careful integration to avoid errors.
Activating the Sundial, its time force enveloped dozens of nearby tombs.
Zhang Ruochen deployed five saint aspects to five nearby tombs, while the Immovable Wisdom King aspect guarded his body, refining the droplets.
Cross-referencing different ancestors’ paths enhanced his comprehension.
His six saint aspects’ advantage shone brightly.
As Zhang Ruochen immersed himself, Mingjiang King and others began cultivating at the tombs.
The old man watched, shaking his head.
Of nearly three hundred clansmen, only seven partially resonated with seven tombs’ rules, their mindsets withstanding the Great Saint pressure.
Only these seven could potentially refine Great Saint Dao Fruits, and only after reaching Saint King.
Thus, only Mingjiang King and his Saint King son currently qualified.
Refining a fruit didn’t guarantee immediate Great Saint breakthrough, requiring time.
“If not for Zhang blood, even fewer would qualify. After 100,000 years asleep, the Zhang Clan has fallen so far,” the old man sighed.
Guarding countless fruits with so few eligible users was frustrating.
He didn’t expel the unqualified, as tomb-side cultivation still benefited them, likely helping many reach Saint realm.
Glancing deeper into the forest, his eyes flickered. “Odd that Zhang Ruochen didn’t choose time or space path fruits. But with six saint aspects and the Sundial, he’s enviable.”
Though curious, he didn’t interfere, trusting Zhang Ruochen’s judgment.
Six days passed outside, equating to six years within the time field.
The Sundial’s divine stone turned to ash, and the time field vanished.
Zhang Ruochen remained in cultivation, showing no signs of waking.
Days later, he opened his eyes, recalling his five saint aspects.
“Different droplets varied. The weakest added 10,000 rules, the best nearly 200,000. My total reached 90 million,” he said, smiling satisfied.
However, 30 million were minor path rules, over a third of the total.
Still, his rule structure remained robust, built on a solid foundation.
Storing the Sundial, he eyed an Unsurpassed realm fruit.
After a moment’s thought, he used spatial techniques to pluck it, sending it to the Qiankun Realm to soak in Life Spring.
As expected, the fruit remained stable.
He picked a few more, preserving them similarly.
While he didn’t need them, others might.
These fruits were the Zhang Clan’s heritage, so he took only a few.
Bowing respectfully to the tombs, he left the forest.
“Zhang Ruochen, a transmission talisman for you. I just retrieved it from outside King Mountain,” the old man said, appearing with a grin, handing it over.
Zhang Ruochen’s heart stirred, guessing its source. He took it, reading carefully.
“Who’s Nalan Danqing? Pretty? What’s your relationship?” the old man asked.
“None of your business,” Zhang Ruochen said, leaving the forest.
The old man muttered, “So rude. I won’t stoop to your level.”
Exiting, Zhang Ruochen retrieved the Cyan Sky Saint Dragon, which had partially refined the Panlong Vine, and left King Mountain swiftly.
The talisman was from Saint Book Lady, informing him that the Rakshasa Clan’s Great Prince Moro had reentered the Kunlun Realm, heading to Luoshui in the Eastern Domain for unknown reasons.
“Delivering himself to me? Are all Rakshasa so arrogant?” Zhang Ruochen found it suspicious but wasn’t overly concerned.
With his current cultivation, even Yan Wushen might not best him.
Blood debts demanded blood repayment. No matter Moro’s backing or forces, he would die this time.
