Chapter 273: Just Boost Favorability

The world coveted the opportunity within a corner of Yuzaoqian's ancient city, exhausting every means possible, mobilizing every connection they'd amassed since birth, and rushing recklessly to Russia.

Those who moved first were the big shots.

Orders were issued, one after another; personnel clad in unimaginable gear, fully armed to the teeth, set out.

Kamikawa Chiemi was equally excited.

She tugged at Kamikawa Mitsu's arm, demanding to go to Russia.

Seeing the urgency in Chiemi's eyes—fearing that if she delayed, the opportunity would be snatched away, desperate to leave immediately—Kamikawa Mitsu felt a warm current flow through his heart, deeply moved.

He understood why Chiemi was so desperate.

It wasn't that she wanted to seize the opportunity herself.

In fact, she had no intention of going herself.

She only wanted Kamikawa Mitsu to go.

Nor was it so she could boast about her powerful brother.

She simply wished, purely and simply, for Kamikawa Mitsu to grow stronger.

After learning Kamikawa Mitsu was transcendent, Chiemi had asked him: since he was transcendent, why had he left her that suicide note?

A transcendent could never be driven to despair by ordinary life.

Kamikawa Mitsu could not reveal the truth, for it might shatter Chiemi, so he fabricated an excuse.

He said that on that day, he hadn't truly intended to kill himself—he had merely received an order from the Ashiya Clan to report to the Primordial Battlefield.

He feared he might never return, for the Primordial Battlefield was perilous—even gods and demons couldn't guarantee survival.

Moreover, the Ashiya Clan's emergency summons had come because a massive battle had erupted in the sector they guarded, the fighting brutal, life and death uncertain.

He didn't want Chiemi to grieve, nor did he want her to learn of the Primordial Battlefield—he only wished for her to live a quiet, carefree ordinary life, so he chose to leave a suicide note and pretend to die.

That way, at least she wouldn't be overwhelmed by grief, and most importantly, she'd never learn of the Primordial Battlefield.

Later, unable to bear leaving Chiemi behind, unwilling to see her suffer, and because the Primordial Battlefield had received reinforcements, Kamikawa Mitsu claimed the situation there had improved and refused the Ashiya Clan's order to report.

And that was why.

Now she wanted Kamikawa Mitsu to go to the corner of the ancient city.

No one in the world ever turns down more money; the same logic applies to gods and demons. Kamikawa Mitsu came from the powerful Ashiya Clan, but who would refuse more blessings?

Moreover, this was the ancient city where Yuzaoqian once dwelled—how could it lack treasures? Those artifacts likely made even gods and demons envious.

If Kamikawa Mitsu, the Ashiya Clan's strongest descendant, obtained these opportunities, he would surely grow even stronger.

Then… even if he had to go to the Primordial Battlefield, he'd be far safer.

"Chiemi, I don't need those opportunities…"

Kamikawa Mitsu spoke.

"No, you must go. If you don't, I'll… I'll never speak to you again."

Chiemi puffed out her cheeks,

and as she spoke, her eyes turned red, tears swirling in their sockets.

"Nisan, no matter how strong you become, or how strong the Ashiya Clan becomes, the Primordial Battlefield is stronger. What if one day our ancestors order you to go there?"

Ultimately, unable to resist Chiemi's stubbornness, fearing she'd cry and hurt herself, Kamikawa Mitsu quickly agreed.

"Alright, alright, I'll listen to you—I'm going right now."

Immediately, Kamikawa Mitsu and Chiemi rose into the air, flying toward Russia.

He hadn't originally planned to bring Chiemi along, but remembered how much she loved gods, transcendants, and yokai—she'd come to America specifically to see the powerful traces left by deities.

For this reason, citing his strength as sufficient to protect Chiemi and other justifications, he brought her to Russia, letting her see it up close, to make her happy.

Meanwhile,

countless helicopters and private aircraft, numerous covert units, arrived in succession; among them, television network helicopters dominated, streaming from across the globe like frenzied swarms.

Clearly, not everyone came for the opportunity—after all, this corner of the ancient city was once part of Yuzaoqian's domain; who could possibly enter a place where such a being once dwelled?

And with such an opportunity, how could the big shots possibly let it slip?

For ordinary people to compete with the big shots? That's suicide.

So it's better to film and earn ratings, make some money—it's far more practical.

Suddenly, the world either watched live streams or did nothing but stare at the Russia coverage.

Time passed slowly.

An hour later, warplanes and helicopters had arrived overhead, and tiny dots could be clearly seen descending.

They were elite soldiers, fully armed, masters of modern weaponry—from firearms to aircraft and artillery—all equipped with the most advanced gear.

The first vanguard unit arrived, but did not enter.

"All dead?"

The Russian elites heard from locals who had arrived first: earlier locals had rushed in, but before even approaching the corner of the ancient city, merely touching its divine radiance,

they were instantly vaporized, leaving not even ashes.

Subsequent locals, blinded by greed, crept forward cautiously—each one died without exception.

After nine deaths, no one dared enter anymore; they stood frozen before the grand, majestic corner of the ancient city, radiating brilliant divine light, awestruck and terrified.

"Captain, do we go in?" one elite asked.

The captain fell silent, staring ahead.

He could clearly see the palace ahead—the ancient city's corner, magnificent and imposing, wreathed in wisps of immortal mist.

Even the captain, with his high psychological resilience and battle-hardened experience, felt his eyes burn and his heart surge.

If he could obtain something from this palace—like an immortal elixir—he'd be set for life, able to retire in comfort.

"Hold off for now. Use our equipment to collect data—let the researchers behind analyze the situation," the captain said.

But if we wait like this, elites from other nations will arrive, and we'll lose the advantage.

As the elite said, even the strongest nation cannot block such a great opportunity—when other nations come together, they will surely allow entry.

At that time, everyone will compete for it.

"If we don't get it, we don't get it. Though opportunities favor the first to arrive, you still need the life to enter—and sometimes it's not even truly first come, first served. Haven't you seen the Chinese xuanhuan I recommended? The enemy arrives first, the protagonist arrives later, yet the opportunity still ends up with the protagonist. That's called 'the one with destiny obtains it.'"

After speaking, the captain ordered his subordinates to collect data and other information.

As for himself, he picked up his phone and began reading Chinese xuanhuan.

Nowadays, everyone knows Chinese mythology is powerful, and some Chinese xuanhuan are very close to the real thing—perhaps by reading a few more chapters and learning a few ancient Chinese phrases, like "My fate is mine, not heaven's," or "Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west," one might gain an opportunity in a corner pavilion of an ancient city.

After all, "the one with destiny obtains it" simply means favor—just grind up the favor and that's it.

……