Chapter 352: Qilin Martial Repository

That morning, the weather had been clear, with light clouds and a gentle breeze.

The hundreds of martial artists on the open ground had long finished their meditation or conversation, and now rose one by one, their gazes fixed intently on the solitary peak rising a thousand zhang high.

Suddenly—

The wind stirred without warning!

At first it was only a light breeze, but in an instant it became a howling gale sweeping across hundreds of li of mountains and forests.

Trees swayed, sand and stones flew, and the clothing of those on the open ground flapped violently.

Then, the clouds in the sky began to churn and gather violently, as if stirred by an invisible giant hand; the qi surged and swirled, covering the sky for a hundred li, darkening the heavens.

Next came the mountain's movement.

The sheer, steep, thousand-zhang-high solitary peak before them began to tremble slightly.

The mountain body emitted a low rumble, and countless tiny stones rolled down its precipitous cliffs.

Finally, even the solid, grayish-blue rock beneath their feet began to vibrate clearly—the ground trembled faintly, as if a subterranean dragon had turned over.

An ancient, vast, and invisible aura, as if awakening from slumber, spread outward from the solitary peak, enveloping the entire sky and earth.

This aura carried no aggression, yet brimmed with majesty and antiquity, causing all who sensed it to instinctively feel reverence and hold their breath.

Under the watchful, tense, and expectant gazes of hundreds, the once-smooth black cliff face on the mountain's midsection, some dozens of zhang above ground, suddenly changed.

Boom—

Vast sections of rock peeled away as if torn by invisible force, tumbling down and raising clouds of dust.

When the dust settled slightly, a deep cave entrance, one zhang high and half a zhang wide, now stood revealed on the cliff face.

The entrance was not the usual darkness of a mountain cave—it was covered by a strange "water curtain" that rippled and flowed with a seven-colored aura.

The water curtain was dense yet unbroken, blocking sight between inside and outside, radiating intense spatial fluctuations and sealing qi.

"The Martial Repository is open! Go!"

Someone shouted lowly, and a martial artist from a prominent family, unable to wait any longer, leapt into the air, becoming a streak of light that shot straight toward the cave entrance.

In his hand he gripped a "Qilin Martial Token," the credential for entry; the moment it touched the seven-colored water curtain, the curtain split open like a door unlocked by a key, revealing a narrow gap just wide enough for one person to pass.

His figure flashed once, then vanished into the water curtain.

With one person leading, the rest had no hesitation.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

…

The sound of tearing air followed in rapid succession.

One after another, figures raced toward the entrance, each holding their own Martial Token, slipping through the seven-colored water curtain like fish entering water.

Xu Zhen, Qin Nan, Chu Xiaotian, Lin Lin Tuotian, and others also moved.

Chen Mu and Ye Jiuzhong exchanged a glance and nodded.

"Brother Ye, within the Martial Repository, fortune depends on one's own ability—be careful." Chen Mu said.

"You too, Brother Chen—I hope you gain something!" Ye Jiuzhong grinned, his eyes brimming with determination.

The two wasted no more time; they simultaneously activated their movement techniques, leapt into the air, and landed at the rear of the line.

Each drew their own Qilin Martial Token and flew toward the seven-colored water curtain.

As they neared the curtain, Chen Mu clearly felt the powerful sealing force flowing across it; he pressed his token against the curtain as before.

Hum!

The token trembled slightly, emitting a vibration identical to the sealing force.

The water curtain before him rippled like a lake struck by a stone, and at its center, it split open automatically.

Chen Mu did not hesitate; his figure darted forward and passed straight through the curtain.

His vision blurred abruptly, as if crossing a spatial barrier; a faint dizziness came, then vanished instantly.

His feet touched ground—he was now inside a space utterly different from the outside world.

It was an enormous natural cavern, its ceiling towering at least dozens of zhang high; the walls stretched far into the distance, appearing almost boundless.

Embedded in the walls and ceiling were countless irregularly sized, softly glowing Bai Guang stones, illuminating the entire cavern with bright, daylight-like light—yet softer, more hazy, and mysterious than sunlight.

The air was fresh and dry, free of the damp, moldy odor of ordinary caves; instead, it carried a faint, special scent—like sandalwood mixed with Jin Shi—that calmed the spirit.

Already inside the cavern were many others.

Lin Lin Tuotian, Chu Xiaotian, Qin Nan, Xu Zhen, and others who had entered earlier did not rush deeper; they scattered across the area near the cavern entrance.

Their gazes were fixed intently on the cavern walls and thick Shi Zhu pillars.

The surfaces of these walls and pillars were not smooth—they were covered in all manner of marks, varying in depth and shape!

There were straight, sharp sword cuts; heavy, dominant knife scars; circular, strange palm prints; claw marks that tore through air; and imprints of spears, staves, axes, halberds, and other weapons…

These marks were not random carvings—each one seemed to contain a unique "spiritual resonance," radiating martial dao remnants that were either piercing, heavy, ethereal, or blazing.

Wu Zun of the Qilin, a mighty being of the Ancient End Era, had studied an immense variety of Wu Gong, mastered thousands of techniques, and fused his martial dao into the supreme realm of Ten Thousand Forms Returning to One.

These marks on the cavern walls and Shi Zhu pillars were partial manifestations of his lifetime's martial insights.

After thousands of years of time's cleansing, these martial dao remnants had not faded—instead, nurtured by the cavern's unique environment, they remained fresh and vibrant, becoming a precious place for later generations to contemplate and learn from.

The thirty-six individuals who entered the cavern with Qilin Martial Tokens disturbed no one.

Because the martial dao remnants scattered everywhere were simply too numerous!

No competition was needed—each person could find the mark most resonant with their own path and meditate upon it.

This was the true core, the most precious inheritance of the Qilin Martial Repository!

Chen Mu and Ye Jiuzhong, who had just entered, exchanged a glance; both saw awe and understanding in the other's eyes.

They nodded in unspoken agreement, said nothing more, and parted ways, beginning to search through the ocean of thousands of martial dao remnants for the one mark that would most stir their spirits and best align with their own martial path.

Chen Mu calmed his mind, emptied his thoughts, and walked slowly through the spacious cavern.

His gaze swept across every trace of martial cultivation, sensing the residual will and essence within them.

The sharpness of sword marks, the dominance of knife cuts, the grandeur of palm prints, the ferocity of fist impressions… all these true meanings of martial cultivation flowed like gentle streams, attempting to merge into his heart-lake.

Finally, at the deepest part of the cave, Chen Mu halted before a particularly wide, seemingly deliberately polished black rock wall.

On this rock wall, there was only one imprint.

A massive, clear, deeply embedded fist imprint—as if it had existed since time immemorial!