Chapter 620: Immortal Longevity

Yunlai Marketplace.

The original marketplace had long been leveled, and now stood a black military camp.

In front of the camp stood row upon row of severed heads—these were cultivators who had resisted discipline, their skulls stacked into a pyramidal trophy by the Temple Guard.

It was proven that even without top-tier combatants, cultivators held no advantage in mid- and low-level battles.

Disorganized cultivators were crushed by the military's superior organization and iron discipline.

Inside the camp.

The Black Dharma King stepped into the tent and saw the Poisonous Hand Scribe pouring himself wine, drinking alone.

He suddenly felt a chill.

After all, the Poisonous Hand Scribe had utterly destroyed his physical body, leaving only his Yang Spirit.

Yet now he behaved exactly like a living man.

Had he not known beforehand, he would have thought this scribe merely elegant and charismatic, never suspecting anything else.

"Black Guardian, what is it?"

The Poisonous Hand Scribe spoke.

"I heard you released the emissary from Qingmu Ridge?"

The Black Dharma King said: "Why not launch a direct assault and obliterate Qingmu Ridge?"

"Qingmu Ridge is willing to release White Guardian and the other captives, provided we do not attack them—they're ready to submit… I think these terms are acceptable."

The Poisonous Hand Scribe replied coolly.

"Those of our sect who suffer defeat in battle should die; their souls must then appear before our Master to beg forgiveness."

The Black Dharma King said grimly, showing not the slightest desire to rescue his comrades.

"Enough…"

The Poisonous Hand Scribe smiled: "Our forces are advancing like a breaking wave, yet even such momentum has its limits… If our enemies unite, it will hinder our future campaigns. Hence, I chose to spare Qingmu Ridge, ease our offensive, and fracture their alliance… Is this explanation satisfactory?"

Though spoken plainly, the Black Dharma King's forehead broke into a bead of sweat: "I dare not question your judgment—only harbor doubts. Since the Emissary has made his decision, I shall take my leave…"

After the Black Dharma King departed, the Poisonous Hand Scribe rose and silently prayed toward the sky.

He had left one thing unsaid.

As the Divine Envoy of the Great Annihilation, he had already touched the domain of fate to some degree.

His decision to abandon the assault on Qingmu Ridge came from a divination.

"Could there be a calamity within Qingmu Ridge capable of destroying even me?"

After finishing his prayer, the Poisonous Hand Scribe gazed toward Qingmu Ridge, his expression dark.

…

Several days later.

Qingmu Ridge.

"You're back."

Fang Xing smiled at Fei Yong.

"Yes… I never thought I'd make it…" Fei Yong touched his head; he had fully expected to die.

He had never imagined the Killing Sect would actually spare him!

"Now that we've released White Dharma King and the others, the Killing Sect's army has moved again, advancing toward Xueying Gate…"

Fei Yong, being a Foundation Establishment cultivator, had recovered his vigor after brief rest and now pointed at a map: "The remaining seven major sects, led by the Supreme Divine Palace, have formed a united front to block the Killing Sect's advance…"

"Hmm, the Supreme Divine Palace excels in spirit-invoking arts and possesses a legitimate lineage… In overall strength, they rank second among the Ten Great Outer Sects…"

Fang Xing smiled, unconcerned.

After all, Qingmu Ridge had already withdrawn from the war.

"Moreover, the Killing Sect has now destroyed three major sects; the remaining seven are not hastily assembling a coalition—they're mobilizing their full strength, united as one. The consequences will be terrifying…"

Fei Yong said: "If the other seven sects fully unleash their incense worship, the Supreme Divine Palace can surely summon an Ancestor of Yang Spirit Late Stage… Combined with the other great sects' methods, they might even stand a chance against the Left Emissary!"

"Indeed. And the Killing Sect will surely let the seven sects unleash their full power… After all, the stronger the enemy, the better the offering."

Fang Xing nodded: "This great calamity still has a long way to go."

Fei Yong wore a look of profound relief: "Now, in the Outer Lands, only Qingmu Ridge remains free. I foresee a flood of refugee cultivators arriving—we must station guards at every pass to limit their numbers, or we'll greatly offend the Killing Sect…"

"Yet there is one matter more urgent still."

Fei Yong suddenly knelt with a group of cultivators: "Without proper title, words lack legitimacy. We have severed ties with our former sects—please, Ancestor, grant us a new name."

He saw clearly: they had been abandoned by the Qingmu Ancestor.

And this Master Fang hid his strength so deeply—he possessed Yang Spirit power, and clearly had no desire for another superior above him.

Thus, self-establishment was the best choice.

Fang Xing watched this scene and felt as if Fei Yong were saying: "It's cold—I'll give you a yellow robe."

He thought for a moment, then spoke: "The Dao follows nature. The Dao gives birth to One; One gives birth to Two; Two gives birth to Three; Three gives birth to all things. Henceforth, Qingmu Ridge shall be renamed 'Natural Gate'."

"Yes, Gate Master!"

Fei Yong was overjoyed—he knew he had made the right move in pledging loyalty.

In the future, he would earn the merit of founding a new sect; in mortal dynasties, this would secure hereditary nobility.

In the cultivator world, it would guarantee him peace for life.

…

Several years later.

The Outer Lands were engulfed in near-total chaos.

The Killing Sect's army, having advanced deep into Xueying Gate's territory, finally met fierce resistance from the Seven Sects and could no longer push forward.

The two sides' armies faced off; large-scale battles dwindled, but infiltration and small-unit skirmishes occurred almost daily. Though the Killing Sect could not advance further, neither could the Seven Sects achieve victory.

In fact!

As the war slightly eased, the cultivators' innate instinct for infighting began to stir again.

And because of Qingmu Ridge—no, Natural Gate—some sects had secretly negotiated surrender with the Killing Sect; no one knew for sure.

Compared to other regions, the former territory of Qingmu Ridge had become a true paradise.

Had Fei Yong not swiftly established regulations, the influx of refugees might have overwhelmed them.

Qingmu Ridge.

Now it was merely a geographical name.

Within Natural Gate.

Towering trees filled the landscape; birds sang and flowers bloomed.

Yet every cultivator entering knew: the grand array here had been personally designed by Fang Xing, capable of trapping a Yang Spirit True Lord.

Not a single word, line, or detail was out of place!

"Manager Fei, thank you for your efforts this time."

Fei Yong looked fatter, with a beard, resembling a wealthy squire; his cultivation had reached Foundation Establishment Mid-Stage.

Behind him, a Foundation Establishment Late-Stage cultivator bowed humbly and slipped a flying-squirrel pouch into his sleeve.

"Ah, Brother Lin… why do you insist?" Fei Yong looked genuinely offended, as if his dignity had been insulted: "Back in our old sect, we were the closest of friends… Now that you've turned from darkness to light, I am overjoyed."

Brother Lin smiled broadly: "I beg you, Brother Fei, to speak well of me before that one…"

In Natural Gate, Fang Xing was naturally the founding Ancestor, wielding unimaginable authority.

Yet he despised mundane affairs and devoted himself entirely to planting trees; thus, the role of sect steward fell to Fei Yong.

This Brother Lin had once been a core seedling of Qingmu Ridge, a candidate for Yin Spirit True Person.

Later, he had fled with the Qingmu Ancestor.

But after years of wandering, he fared poorly among the Seven Sects.

After all, a dog without a master—even the Qingmu Ancestor—had been forced into the frontline as cannon fodder.

After several such humiliations, Brother Lin could bear it no longer. Hearing that Fei Yong thrived in Natural Gate, he traveled thousands of miles to join him.

Soon after, Fei Yong brought Brother Lin to a wild, desolate region.

There, a young man clad in animal hides was planting trees.

"I pay homage to the Ancestor."

Without Fei Yong speaking, Brother Lin immediately knelt.

Notably, he too wore animal hides and a crown woven from willow branches, exuding wildness and ancient charm.

Not just him—Fei Yong beside him, and indeed all of Natural Gate, dressed similarly.

Even the entire Qingmu Ridge domain now favored this "primitive beast style"; some cultivators even rode fierce beasts to show off.

Outsiders found it jarring.

Fang Xing, however, didn't care—it merely proved that the weak are shaped by their environment, while the strong reshape it.

"Ancestor, this Brother Lin Kun is willing to turn from darkness to light and join our Natural Gate."

Fei Yong stepped forward and bowed.

"Lin Kun?"

Fang Xing had just finished planting a tree; his hands were caked in dirt. He glanced at Lin Kun: "Hmm… handle it."

"Yes."

Fei Yong bowed.

Lin Kun knelt, overjoyed: "Thank you, Ancestor…"

Fang Xing waved his hand, dismissing the two, and resumed planting trees himself.

Not long after, Fei Yong returned: "Old Ancestor… this man is suspicious."

"Oh? Why?"

Fang Xing asked casually.

"Although we've absorbed the remnants of Qingmu Ridge, in recent months our numbers have slightly exceeded normal levels… moreover, I've known Lin Kun for years; I know he appears simple-minded but harbors deep cunning—he's likely an infiltrator… Qingmu the Old Ghost intends to strike us."

Fei Yong affirmed.

"Then how should we respond?"

Fang Xing walked to the mountain spring and washed his hands.

"Respond to all changes with no change… we're behind the Killing Sect; ordinary Yangshen True Lords dare not come… only Qingmu the Old Ghost would risk such danger."

Fei Yong continued: "But he dares not breach our formation. As long as Old Ancestor remains within Ziran Gate and treats the strange occurrences as normal, he will defeat himself."

Qingmu the Old Ancestor has already died once; his power is greatly diminished, even below that of White Dharma King!

He naturally knows the best way to respond.

"Hmm… but there's no need to make it so complicated. Wait for an opportunity to lure the snake out of its hole and kill Qingmu the Old Ghost…"

Fang Xing glanced at his attribute bar.

The several years he secured have already been enough for his power to surge again.

Moreover, Qingmu the Old Ghost first used us as cannon fodder for blood sacrifice, then later coveted Ziran Gate's legacy—both sides have long been enemies.

【You underwent a Natural Baptism and gained partial 'Natural Knowledge'!】

【Your Druid class has risen to Level 20! New talent acquired—Immortality!】

(End of Chapter)