Chapter 270: Departure

"Ah, that's wrong, it's not supposed to be used like that!"

Li Hu's face flushed red, the long sword in his hand hummed, but he couldn't chop it down.

The blade was clearly still his ordinary iron sword he'd used for years, but ever since Wang Zhizhe muttered a few words about "granting the concept of law‑breaking" to it, the sword became harder to handle than his ancestors.

He felt what he held wasn't a sword but a stubborn donkey; when he tried to make it go forward, it insisted on going backward.

"You have to communicate with it, communicate with your heart," Wang Zhizhe said from a short distance, his tone flat, revealing no emotion.

"I've communicated!" Li Hu, sweating profusely, exclaimed, "I've said all the good and bad words, and it still won't listen to me!"

Beside them, Wang Zhitao squatted on the ground, a blade of grass between his teeth, laughing, "Brother, your gadget's no good; I'd rather just spit a mouthful of energy for it to swallow. Li Hu, are you hungry? Hungry means no strength, and a weak sword naturally won't obey."

Li Hu's mouth twitched; he couldn't reason with the glutton.

"Xiao Tao, stop messing around," Wang Zhizhe rebuked.

He stepped up to Li Hu, extended two fingers, and gave the blade a gentle flick.

"Hum—"

The long sword emitted a clear, resonant tone, and the rule patterns on its blade—previously invisible to the naked eye, only perceivable by Spiritual Sense—suddenly became crystal clear.

Li Hu felt the "stubborn donkey" in his hand instantly become obedient, a sharp, unparalleled intent flowing from the hilt into his mind.

"It's not a tool; it's your arm, an extension of your will," Wang Zhizhe explained, "When you think of 'splitting', it will naturally help you split everything."

"This is called a 'concept'. In my world, if I say it can break law, it must be able to break law,"

Li Hu half understood, but still mimicked Wang Zhizhe, focusing his intent on the action of "splitting".

He swung a fierce slash toward the empty space ahead!

There was no blade flash, no Sword Qi, yet the space ahead silently cracked open a thin black fissure; all light and matter at its edges were devoured, then quickly healed.

"I... damn!"

Li Hu stared blankly at his hand, then at the unremarkable long sword, unable to utter a word for a long while.

On the other side, Zhang Mei fared much better. She sat cross‑legged, with dozens of runes made of pure energy hovering before her.

These runes alternated between forming shields, turning into birds, then condensing into sharp arrows—countless variations.

"Sister Zhang Mei, this is fun—does it look like the clay figures I used to make?" Wang Zhitao leaned over, curiously poking one of the runes.

"Don't touch!" Zhang Mei startled, quickly retracting the rune, "This is a formation Zhizhe made for me using rules; each rune represents a kind of power. What if I break one?"

"Can't break them," Wang Zhizhe's voice came, "These runes are embodiments of this world's rules; as long as the world endures, they will exist forever.

What you need to do now is become familiar with them, then try to create new combinations yourself."

These days, Li Hu and Zhang Mei's cultivation has skyrocketed like a rocket.

Wang Zhitao ate the leftover "cold remnants", which, after Wang Zhizhe filtered and refined them using world rules, were practically supreme immortal pills for them.

Coupled with the abnormally dense spiritual Qi in this tiny world and Wang Zhizhe, the "Creator God", personally guiding them, they felt they'd wasted the past twenty‑plus years.

The two brothers were equally far from idle.

Wang Zhitao spent each day either eating or sleeping; upon waking, he'd spar with Wang Zhizhe.

He gradually digested and absorbed the rule essence he devoured from those "Calamities" Shadow Guard, integrating it into his Primordial Devouring Body.

The black‑gold patterns on his body grew ever deeper, and every move exuded a domineering aura that seemed to devour all things.

Meanwhile, Wang Zhizhe continuously refined this world.

He thoroughly dissected the three rules "Withering", "Void", and "Heavy Pressure", then reverse‑engineered them, creating corresponding rules such as "Vitality", "Existence", and "Lightness", making the little world's rule system more complete and stable.

He was like the most masterful chess player, and the entire world was his board.

That day, the cultivation session came to a halt.

Wang Zhizhe gathered the four of them together.

"We're almost ready," he said bluntly.

Li Hu and Zhang Mei's expressions instantly grew serious. They knew the comfortable days were about to end.

"I need to make this clear: the enemy we face this time is called the 'Shadow'."

His gaze deepened, "A massive assassin organization that spans the entire Imperial Dynasty and even broader territories.

Their leader, code‑named 'Lord', is not human but an ancient artifact spirit linked to the Imperial Dynasty Dragon Vein."

"Its goal is to forge an 'Immortal Dao Pill'. And the most crucial ingredient for that pill is the 'Pill Guide'..."

Wang Zhizhe paused, his gaze sweeping the group, "It's me."

The air instantly solidified.

Li Hu and Zhang Mei had long suspected, but hearing this shocking truth with their own ears still gave them a chill.

The enemy is an artifact spirit of the Imperial Dynasty Dragon Vein? And it wants to use their own brother to forge the pill? How absurd, how terrifying!

"Brother, what are we waiting for? Let's go kill it now and devour it!" Wang Zhitao clenched his fists, his joints cracking like popping beans, he licked his lips, "The taste of the Dragon Vein must be great."

"No," Wang Zhizhe shook his head, "We're not going to die; we're going for revenge.

We must act like hunters, gradually clipping its wings, digging out its claws, and finally placing its head before Grandfather's spirit tablet."

Mentioning Grandfather made Li Hu and Zhang Mei's eyes redden again.

They exchanged glances, and the fear and anxiety within them gradually gave way to resolve.

"Zhizhe, we're coming with you!" Li Hu gripped his sword tightly, "Grandfather Wang is also our grandfather; we'll avenge this together!"

"Right!" Zhang Mei also nodded heavily, "A miserable life, but getting to fight a deity—worth it!"

Wang Zhizhe looked at them, a faint warmth flowing through his heart. He said no more, simply raised his hand and gave the sky a gentle grasp.

The entire little world began to quake violently.

The sky contracted inward, the earth folded upward; mountains, rivers, flora, and all living things converged toward a single point at the center in a way that defied normal logic.

Li Hu and Zhang Mei, terrified, realized they seemed to stand on a scroll being continuously rolled up.

Finally, the vast world transformed into a fist‑sized Light Spot emitting a faint black‑gold glow, silently hovering in Wang Zhizhe's palm.

"This is our final stronghold, and also our greatest weapon."

He absorbed the Light Spot into his body, then led the three of them to the center of this "Empty Shell" world.

There, a gentle yet powerful heart was beating strongly, each pulse seeming to speak of endless protection and hope.

It was Grandfather Wang Shan.

The two brothers stood side by side, silent for a long while. They neither paid tribute nor said goodbye; they simply stood quietly.

All the oaths, all the resolve, lay within this silence.

Revenge needs no words.

"Brother, I can smell something outside," Wang Zhitao suddenly said, rubbing his hands, his face excited, "so many, so many 'snack' aromas, just smelling them makes my mouth water."

Wang Zhize lifted his head, his gaze piercing the void of this spatial barrier.

He knew that once they stepped out of here, they would be fully exposed to the Lord's sight.

But, so what?

Those who hide in the shadows can only ever be mice.

From today onward, they will become hunters.

From that tangled memory, he precisely locked onto a coordinate.

It was a small outpost of the "Shadow" organization located at the dynasty's border, in a remote mountain range, with the weakest and most inconspicuous guard force.

And it begins here.

Wang Zhize's mind shifted, and the spatial barrier ahead silently tore open a fissure.

Beyond the fissure lay the vast, boundless real world—sunlight, air, and… ubiquitous danger.

He turned his head, looking at Li Hu and Zhang Mei.

"Are you ready?"

"Our journey truly begins now."

As the words fell, he was the first to stride, stepping into the fissure.

Wang Zhitao chuckled, following closely behind.

Li Hu and Zhang Mei exchanged a glance, clasped each other's hands tightly, and resolutely followed.

The four figures vanished into the fissure, like four swords drawn from their sheaths, bearing endless chill, thrust toward the massive black curtain named "Shadow".