Chapter 91

The eastern forest.

Deep woods, dense grass, mountain winds howling.

Qian Tong and nine other Liyun Sect cultivators, spaced fifty meters apart in pairs, concealed their forms and advanced steadily in a crescent formation, leaving no trace on the ground.

Wild boars, elk, and tigers roamed the forest, grazing and hunting as usual, utterly undisturbed.

“Senior Qian, please slow to one-quarter of your current speed.”

A jade pendant at Qian Tong’s waist flickered faintly, transforming into a covert spiritual sense pulse that reached his mind.

He paused in surprise.

This is already the standard pace for accommodating our fifth-layer Qi Refining junior brothers—how much slower can it get?

But he quickly realized: that mortal couldn’t keep up with them.

“Slow by another quarter, and proceed with even greater caution.”

Qian Tong said grimly.

Years of joint cultivation bred instinctive obedience; the others slowed immediately, only then beginning to ponder the meaning of the order, their eyes darkening with resentment.

The Immortal Sect,

even as a prestigious sect, to have a mortal command us is an unbearable humiliation!

Four kilometers ahead, behind the Liyun Sect’s crescent formation, Jiang Ding moved through the trees, carrying a counter-material sniper rifle, equally silent and invisible.

On his tactical helmet interface, terrain and geography scrolled past, and seven drones, under his control, flew at an altitude of three thousand meters.

This isn’t a shooting range—even military drones are frequently shot down.

Another interface displayed ten moving dots: Qian Tong and his team.

Jiang Ding was responsible for reconnaissance on the eastern flank; others handled the remaining directions, rapidly mapping the terrain and fire strike coordinates.

Since receiving the reconnaissance order, he had traversed this forest for seven to eight hours, covering over one hundred fifty kilometers, with seven drones spanning a fifty-kilometer reconnaissance width—still no discoveries.

The battlefield is too vast; the Seventh Division’s reconnaissance unit might have passed nearby without his knowledge.

Suddenly, one drone’s feed went black.

Enemy!

Jiang Ding’s expression hardened; in the feeds of other drones ten kilometers away, the drone had suddenly exploded, its fragments undergoing secondary shattering.

Heavy machine gun rounds—automatic fire—or possibly multiple snipers firing simultaneously.

The latter is unlikely; reconnaissance infantry training is extremely difficult. The Seventh Division couldn’t possibly have produced multiple reconnaissance infantry yet. As premium special magic treasures, the Immortal Sect only issues them to designated roles.

“Enemy spotted. Location unknown.”

Jiang Ding issued a warning, directing the other drones to retreat from the downed drone and seek cover near clouds.

Qian Tong and the Liyun Sect cultivators grew serious, intensifying their concealment spells.

Though they might encounter fellow sect members, no one would spare anyone outside their own lineage. Only by eliminating all disciples of rival lines could this inner sect trial end—and ascend to inner sect disciple!

Another drone feed went black.

Jiang Ding finally spotted a drone hidden within a white cloud five to six kilometers away.

He raised his pre-charged counter-material sniper rifle, aimed, predicted its trajectory, infused one-sixth of his internal energy into the shot, and waited as it reappeared.

Bang!

A faint, almost imperceptible shot. The drone, barely emerging from cover, shattered instantly.

Jiang Ding lowered the rifle, continuing to channel internal energy—he estimated six minutes to fully recharge.

Simultaneously, within the tactical helmet’s microcomputer, lines of data appeared, rapidly calculating based on the two downed drones.

Using the two crash points as starting references, a vertical coordinate of 3,247 meters, and a five-kilometer effective range of heavy machine guns as the horizontal axis, he outlined a region on the forest floor.

“Investigate this area.”

Jiang Ding ordered.

The reconnaissance team is most likely Seventh Division’s Inner Qi cultivators paired with Liyun Sect Dao soldiers.

Immortal Sect Qi Refining cultivators lose combat effectiveness drastically without tanks and are easily detected by spiritual sense—hardly stronger than Inner Qi martial artists.

They can’t drive tanks through the forest, carving out long clear paths just for reconnaissance.

Unless they’re super-elite.

Cultivators who maintain their own cultivation, master tank-driving and shooting techniques, study array and cultural knowledge, yet still find time to train concealment and reconnaissance spells—beyond reason.

No such cultivator exists in the First Division.

Aside from Li Tie, the dual-spirit-root Qi Refining eighth-layer cultivator, the rest of the Seventh Division’s Qi Refining cultivators are mediocre, far behind those of the First Division.

As for the Liyun Sect cultivators,

Dao soldiers are restricted from using many Immortal Sect-specific magic treasures, limiting their reconnaissance range.

“Yes!”

Qian Tong and the others grimaced but dared not disobey; they marched straight toward Jiang Ding’s designated coordinates, carefully scanning every patch of forest with their spiritual sense.

A Qi Refining seventh-layer cultivator’s spiritual sense covers a seventy-meter radius—this area is sizable.

They moved continuously, circling irregularly at high speed; though the area was vast, they could cover it in roughly a dozen minutes.

“Nothing.”

“No detection, Senior Qian.”

The lower-level cultivators reported continuously—same as their own findings.

“Good. Proceed. Don’t let your guard down. Though he’s a mortal, we can’t even locate him…” Qian Tong exhaled, about to rally them, when two semi-transparent, furtive figures appeared at the edge of his spiritual sense.

Only semi-transparent—vastly inferior to their superior. Barely visible to the naked eye, let alone detectable by spiritual sense, where even the number of their sweat hairs could be counted.

They dared not move quickly, crouching low, careful not to leave traces in trees or grass—otherwise they’d be spotted faster.

Qian Tong fell silent.

“Kill!”

He coldly barked, his icy spiritual sense piercing every junior’s mind.

Shhh!

Instantly, ten cloud-colored flying swords shot forth, reaching the two translucent figures in an instant.

“We’ve been spotted!”

Jiang Jinxian and Wu Jinqian turned pale. The flying swords hovered midair, their chilling killing intent piercing through bone—they finally grasped the gulf between them.

What was Inner Qi Great Circulation? What was the Seventh Division’s martial champion? Utterly laughable before these flying swords!

“Save us!”

Both screamed instinctively.

The lean cultivator guarding within a dozen meters found it irritating: an eighth-layer Qi Refining cultivator, accompanied by loyal subordinates, assigned to protect two Louyi -level mortals—handcuffed and constrained.

Yet he dared not refuse.

Same Liyun Sect cultivator—ten flying swords shot out instantly, intercepting the incoming blades. The swords clashed fiercely, sword qi spilling everywhere; trees as thick as a waist toppled at the slightest brush.

Seizing the chance, Jiang Jinxian and Wu Jinqian shed restraint, unleashing their full speed to flee desperately backward.

“Black Cloud Peak disciples.”

Qian Tong’s face turned cold. He risked his flying swords being shattered by the lean eighth-layer cultivator, darted forward in a flash, redirected his cloud-colored swords around the heads of Jiang Jinxian and Wu Jinqian—then severed their necks. Sword qi erupted, reducing their bodies to countless thin slices.

Mortals are too fragile. Impossible to protect.

“Die!”

The lean cultivator roared in fury.

A mere seventh-layer cultivator dared to divert attention mid-combat? He didn’t even know how to write the word “death”!

His mid-grade magic treasure, the cloud-colored flying sword, blazed with brilliant light, accelerating twofold, instantly reaching Qian Tong’s face and slashing down.

One slash—

Qian Tong’s shield artifact dimmed, trembling on the verge of collapse. His own swords were still returning, too late to defend.

The lean cultivator’s sword retained its full luster, glowing brighter. After the first slash, it spun again, effortlessly slicing through the dimmed shield and slashing toward his neck.

“Spare me! We’re both Liyun Sect disciples—”

Qian Tong’s face twisted with terror, regretting having followed that mortal’s command to kill.

“Pathetic!”

The lean cultivator’s face twisted into a snarl—then sudden, unbearable pain surged through him, his body going limp.

He looked down: a fist-sized blood hole had appeared at his waist. His body stiffened; his flying sword dimmed instantly.

Boom!

Fiery heat erupted from the wound, turning him into a pile of ash.

Over four thousand meters away,

Jiang Ding slung his rifle and sprinted away from his original position, unleashing all his internal energy, legs pumping furiously.

“Run! This coordinate is no longer safe!”