Chapter 312: The Eighth Volume: Shadows Enshroud

Lancheng.

Fine rain drifted down, shrouding heaven and earth; Luo Feng, alone, grew still, then left his cave dwelling.

“The more one knows, the more one realizes how hard it is to leap beyond the cage,” Luo Feng thought. His current goal was no longer to break through the Dao of Birth and Death, but to comprehend the mysteries of the Primordial Bloodlines—how they achieved “perfect, natural unity.”

Perfect, natural unity would allow a complete breakthrough beyond the cage, reaching a new realm.

“I’ve studied 323 types of Primordial Bloodlines from the early Divine Emperor stage—each one, five full times—before setting them aside for now.” Each new study brought gains, but the later ones yielded less and less.

Since acquiring these Primordial Bloodlines, Luo Feng has spent approximately 1,500 ji.

Most of those 1,500 ji were spent studying Primordial Bloodlines from the early Divine Emperor stage.

Only recently did he begin studying those of the mid Divine Emperor stage—he’s just reached the 34th.

“Each mid-stage Divine Emperor Primordial Bloodline grants me far deeper insights; studying thirty-four in a row has left my soul aching.” During these 1,500 ji, Luo Feng constantly used auxiliary treasures to aid his cultivation, placing immense strain on his soul.

Now, at last, he rests.

“I can feel it…”

“Every Primordial Bloodline brings me closer to leaping beyond the cage. I must fully unravel these bloodlines—no haste!”

Luo Feng cherished these resources.

At this moment, Luo Feng sensed that with a little time and effort, carefully organizing and integrating what he’d learned, he could soon reach the “late Divine Emperor” stage of the Dao of Birth and Death. But he was not in a rush.

The deeper the accumulation, the clearer his understanding of the Dao of Birth and Death, the more solid his path became.

“No need to rush.”

Once the Dao of Birth and Death reached late Divine Emperor, he would surpass the Three Hall Masters. In the Dark Sacred Realm, he would be an extraordinarily brilliant powerhouse.

Yet now, this realm was within his grasp!

Sometimes Luo Feng wondered: was he truly an unparalleled genius?

Other cultivators remained trapped at a bottleneck, forever unable to break through.

He, step by step, naturally advanced to higher realms.

“Compared to other cultivators, perhaps I can see straight to the essence of the Dao,” Luo Feng thought. He could directly perceive and grasp the core truths of many paths. Others merely circled the outer edges of the Great Dao.

“I think many cultivators are mediocre. Perhaps in the eyes of Elder Yuan and others, I too am mediocre,” Luo Feng smiled.

Fine rain drifted down.

Rarely did Luo Feng set aside cultivation to simply appreciate this city.

“Hahaha, hahaha…” Distant, mournful laughter echoed.

Luo Feng turned to look.

Lancheng sprawled widely; beside a lake, an old man drank wine and laughed mournfully—the sorrow in his laughter was clear even to Luo Feng.

“A Supreme Realm Divine King?” Luo Feng instantly saw through the old man’s strength. He immediately suppressed his own aura, barely maintaining the aura of a Divine Emperor.

Luo Feng walked over.

“Old brother, why so sorrowful?” Luo Feng tossed him a flask of wine.

The old man didn’t care—he caught it, took a sip, his eyes brightened, and nodded: “Good wine! I was just feeling stifled. Laughing helped. Hahaha…”

“Stifled?” Luo Feng looked at him.

“I’m a Divine King of the Supreme Realm. I’ve lived in Lancheng for so long, taking on odd jobs, yet still pay residence fees, cave rental fees, and more. After spending hundreds of thousands of ji, I finally saved a little.” The old man said, “I bought some elixirs to help me break through—but on the way back, I discovered they were gone.”

“The elixirs were stolen?” Luo Feng understood.

A Supreme Realm Divine King wouldn’t lose valuable items by accident. Only one possibility existed—he’d been robbed.

Luo Feng himself had been robbed when he first arrived in Lancheng.

“We Supreme Realm Divine Kings are too weak. We get robbed and don’t even notice,” the old man sighed. “In the past, I didn’t care when I was robbed. But this time—it was my hard-earned savings, spent on these elixirs. All gone at once.”

“Too hard. Too hard.”

“Earning Primordial Crystals is hard. Life is hard. Cultivation is hard.” The old man’s emotions were complex.

But after two more sips, he laughed again: “Still, at least in Lancheng, there’s hope for cultivation.”

“Yes. At least there’s hope,” Luo Feng nodded. Every cultivator who came to Lancheng sought to walk further along the path of cultivation.

“Thank you for the fine wine,” the old man said with a smile, then departed.

The path of cultivation must continue.

Luo Feng watched him go: “This is the normal life of Lancheng’s lower class.”

Di Fu and Di Ming had faced the same when they first arrived in Lancheng—even finding the most basic job was hard!

These lower-class cultivators in Lancheng made up the overwhelming majority—hundreds of millions! Hundreds of millions of cultivators, lacking strength to hunt low-level Primordial Lifeforms, scrambled to serve the powerful, just to earn scraps of resources. Yet they still got robbed. Still had to pay residence fees and cave rental fees.

“Huh?” Moments after the old man left, he froze, staring at the wine flask in his hand.

Inside the flask, invisible seals concealed a single Primordial Crystal.

One such Primordial Crystal equaled ten thousand ordinary ones.

“Ten thousand Primordial Crystals?” The old man spun around—Luo Feng was already gone from the lakeside. He realized then: the man before him was no ordinary being.

“Thank you, Elder,” the old man silently bowed in gratitude, dared not make a scene, and hurried quietly toward his cave dwelling. He dared not carry so many Primordial Crystals openly.

…

Luo Feng walked through Lancheng, where lower-class cultivators were everywhere—most had no stable, long-term work.

Stable, long-term employment was a heavy burden for most factions. Even if they paid only twenty Primordial Crystals per ji, what about ten thousand ji? A million ji? Over time, the cost became terrifying.

Thus, most factions had few permanent members; most were short-term laborers—hired when busy, dismissed when idle.

“Even so, lower-class cultivators are the easiest targets for theft,” Luo Feng thought, having encountered several thieves along the way. “Because they’re poor, weak, and can’t afford the secret treasure ‘Illusionary Labyrinth.’”

“Huh.”

A flying vessel passed overhead.

Luo Feng sensed five cultivators inside—by their auras, all were “early Divine Emperor Dao-seekers,” likely just returned from a hunt.

“In Lancheng, even if you escape the lower class and grow stronger—reaching early Divine Emperor Dao-seeker—you still risk your life hunting.”

“Mid Divine Emperor Dao-seekers are still mostly hunters. Only a few hold important positions in major factions.”

Luo Feng thought.

Like Di Qing—a mid Divine Emperor Dao-seeker—he only secured a good position at the Elixir Tower because of Luo Feng. Otherwise, with so many strong cultivators in the city, why would the Master of Changqing Tower choose him?

In all of Lancheng, very few lived comfortably. Over 99% struggled.

“Yet despite the hardship, they all came.”

“All for the path of cultivation.”

Luo Feng arrived outside the cave dwelling of one of the three raiding factions: the “Nest of Worms.”

Even from afar, he saw the massive spherical organism—its surface writhed with mad faces, its countless holes filled with cultivators entering and exiting.

“Master of the Nest of Worms,” Luo Feng observed calmly.

Though he had not rushed to break through to late Divine Emperor of the Dao of Birth and Death,

even his mid Divine Emperor stage, combined with his late Divine Emperor mastery of Life and Destruction, plus centuries of studying Primordial Bloodlines, had granted him profound accumulation and countless secret arts.

Luo Feng paid little heed to the Three Hall Masters—how much less did he care for the Master of the Nest of Worms?

“In the Infinite Primordial Space, countless source worlds exist, and even more myriad worlds,” Luo Feng thought. “Cultivators differ across worlds. Even without the Master of the Nest of Worms, the Master of the Deceitful Bazaar, or the Master of Ten Thousand Shadows Pavilion—there would still be countless thieves and raiders.”

For resources, they would stop at nothing.

In all thirty-five cities of the Jiuhe Sacred Realm, it was the same.

Even if Luo Feng, as city lord, forcibly disbanded the Nest of Worms and the other two factions, theft and raiding could never be fully eradicated.

…

“Luo Feng is outside my cave dwelling, watching me?”

The massive Nest of Worms was the Master of the Nest’s own body.

Luo Feng simply stood outside, staring at the Nest—the Master naturally sensed it.

“I haven’t acquired a suitable soul treasure yet,” the Master thought. “I’ll endure for now. Once I get the soul treasure, I’ll make Luo Feng pay dearly for provoking me!”

Suddenly, a mental voice echoed within the Nest—

“Master of the Nest of Worms, I’m standing right outside, watching your massive form. Are you pretending not to see me?” Luo Feng’s voice came.

“Luo Feng—” The Master was shocked and furious, glaring at him, and sent back a mental reply: “You’ve gone too far.”

“You attacked me directly at the Elixir Tower. I merely stand outside your Nest and speak a few words—and that’s too much?” Luo Feng laughed mentally.

The Master of the Nest fell silent.

“Your courage is far smaller than the rumors suggest.” Seeing the man refuse to reply, Luo Feng said no more and turned to leave.

The Master of the Nest endured.

“He dares provoke me—he must have some backing,” the Master sensed, a gut instinct honed over countless eons.

…

As Luo Feng wandered through Lancheng,

in a modest cave dwelling in Lancheng’s outer district,

two weak cultivators met.

“Get ready. Wang is about to enter Lancheng,” a thin cultivator sent a mental message.

“Wang is finally coming?” The elderly cultivator thrilled. “I’ll mobilize my subordinates—have them prepare.”

“Only the leaders know Wang’s arrival,” the thin cultivator warned. “Below the leaders—absolute secrecy!”

“Don’t worry,” the elderly cultivator replied. “My subordinates think this is just another routine infiltration and assassination. We’ve done this before.”

The thin cultivator nodded, sending a mental message: “Prepare. Be patient. Once Wang enters Lancheng, he’ll communicate with all of us leaders mentally.”

The elderly cultivator looked forward eagerly: “We’ve waited too long. This time, we’ll tear Lancheng apart. Those hundreds of millions of cultivators—we’ll feast on them. Eat enough, and we’ll regain our freedom.”

In the outside world, killing a cultivator is already very difficult.

Breaching Lancheng, hundreds of millions of cultivators would be delicacies before us!

“Wait patiently—this day is nearly here,” said the slender cultivator with a faint smile.

(End of Chapter)