Chapter 300: Rebel Army, Wu Calamity, and the Chaos of Beixuan

Upon the ruins of Su Cheng...

Countless backs stood tall like withered trees, scattered across every corner, their feet treading upon scorched earth, craters, and rubble.

The number of people was far more than thousands, yet it was deathly silent; not a single one made a sound or opened their mouth to speak.

This scene did not resemble a realm of the living; it was as if the Nine Nether ghosts and spirits had descended upon the world.

A faint mist shrouded these figures; looking closer, one could vaguely discern their true appearances.

If Zhuang Tie or Bao Tiefeng were here, they would be shocked to discover that many of the Su Cheng martial artists who were "already dead" were among them, their expressions solemn as they bowed toward a certain direction.

Hmm, among them were even a few who were "Lu Zhigang's" fellow disciples, experts of the Yanxing Quan.

The uniform orientation of their faces extended all the way forward to the only remaining half-section of the Su Cheng city wall.

"The day the two Grandmasters fought, they slaughtered until the heavens grew dark and the earth turned dim; the aftershocks spread here, and the thousand-year-old city was destroyed in an instant."

"You are all survivors of the catastrophe; you can only stay alive because you are under my protection, so you should be grateful."

"In this day and age, the greatest scourges are not plague or famine, nor are they phantom beasts; it is not natural disaster, but man-made calamity."

"You rely on martial arts to show off your strength and bully the weak, but when you encounter a more powerful Grandmaster, you become mere ants in the blink of an eye."

"The order of this world is wrong and ought to be changed; I, Kunpengzi, am willing to act as the vanguard to lead you in carving out a world of your own."

"From this day forward, you need no longer be bound!"

On the half-section of the city wall, Kunpengzi sat cross-legged, his hair and beard blown into a disheveled mess by the wind.

Yet his voice clearly reached the ears of every back turned toward him.

"Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill!"

One person began to repeat it, then hundreds and thousands began to repeat it; this slogan swept across the ruins like a tidal wave.

Kunpengzi looked at this great army, a satisfied smile appearing on his face, and then his body suddenly shuddered.

At this moment, it was exactly when Zhou You triggered the restriction inside his Senior Brother's body, turning him into a torch on the spot.

He wiped the corner of his eye, showing a hint of sorrow, and lamented, "My good disciple, you died for your master."

"Go in peace; Moyunzi and Gongliang City—I will not let a single one of them go."

"And that little girl from the Qi Family; you liked her, didn't you? Your master will send her down to be buried with you."

After he finished speaking, his gaze turned ruthless; he raised his hand and waved downward, and gray, transparent lines surged up from beneath him, rising to the high sky above his head to outline a giant Seal Script.

The power of this Seal Script traveled and spread through the void, departing from the ruins of Su Cheng and heading toward the north.

Heading north from Su Cheng, human traces were sparse; on the desolate land, many cities had once stood—the smaller ones were not even half the size of Su Cheng or Gongliang City, but the larger ones could even rival Fucheng.

Yet over the long passage of time, these cities perished for various reasons, and even their ruins were buried by dust.

Here, life was severed, vegetation withered; there were no beasts, no human traces; the world was vast and desolate, ancient and lonely!

For this barren territory, there was a unified name... Beijing.

To the residents living in the three cities, Beijing was the end of the world; it was hard to imagine what lay beyond Beijing.

People could not cross Beijing, but the power of the Seal Script ignored the obstacles of space and terrain, passing through smoothly.

The final destination of the Seal Script was a cluster of towering black mountain peaks shrouded under a gray sky. Mountains of varying heights and thicknesses, black as ink, gathered on this land to become its overlords.

Apart from this, there was not a single flat patch of land or flowing water to be seen! A hand reached out to receive the information of the Seal Script and slowly retracted into the black mountain cluster.

"It has begun!"

This was a burly man wearing a skirt of animal skins, standing on an ancient altar, with a crowd of people kneeling on the ground all around him.

Whether it was the burly man or the kneeling crowd, their clothing and attire could even be traced back to the ancient era, as if they had walked out of a mural.

"The dynasty changes and the world turns; the era of the martial artist has reached its end, and it is our turn to take the stage."

The burly man in animal skins clasped his hands together, his expression devout, "The power opened by the Nine Cauldrons of Heaven and Man was originally meant for the Wu, not the martial."

"The despicable Martial Saint of the Primal Beginning misinterpreted the Cauldron Script and stole the power that belonged to us, the Wu, burying the hidden danger of a backlash."

"Our tribe migrated to this bitter land beyond the extreme borders, enduring until now, and finally, we have waited for our day to rise."

"The vanguard has already broken into the border; pass on my order: the entire tribe is to mobilize, move the steles, migrate, and seize the land."

After the order was passed down, the thousands of black mountains boiled; swarms of people crawled out from caves and pits, roaring and brandishing weapons.

The young and strong within the tribe had various patterns tattooed on their skin, like vines or feathers, which combined with the textures of their blood vessels; as their blood energy surged, they emitted powerful strength, and the level of Qi-Blood and Martial Masters was everywhere.

There were even auras of the Strong Martial level scattered throughout the crowd, occupying positions of leadership.

Even the weakest women and children had strength flowing through their limbs, easily lifting hundreds of catties of leather scrolls and dried meat.

Aged priestesses and shamans played ancient musical instruments, driving the herds of beasts and swarms of insects they had raised, forming a scene like black clouds upon the ground.

The beasts and strange insects in this harsh environment were generally fierce and powerful, with astonishing bite force; they would lower their heads to pick up stones as snacks, crunching them into powder, and poison gas would spread with every breath they took.

Accompanying this sea of people were also invisible micro-insects, disease-qi, and the like; once they entered Beijing, they would inevitably sweep across all directions, causing endless, continuous plague and disease.

Although the world had already forgotten this tribe, scholars and literati who studied ancient history still remembered.

On the eve of the Primal Beginning Martial Saint clearing thorns and thistles to open a new era, there was once a tribe that called itself 'Wu'; the strong within the tribe were called Great Wu, and the kings among the Great Wu were called Wu Kings.

The Primal Beginning Martial Saint killed ten Great Wu Kings in succession, completely crushing the power of the Wu tribe and driving them into the poor mountains and treacherous waters beyond the borders.

The conflict between martial artists and the Wu tribe was reflected more in their divergence on power and their understanding and analysis of the Nine Cauldrons of Heaven and Man.

The power of the Wu tribe was also based on tempering the physical body to grow stronger, but the difference was that the Wu tribe worshipped ancestral spirits, viewing them as the source of power.

In contrast, although martial artists also worshipped their ancestors, they did not worship them blindly, believing that the source of power was oneself.

Both sides studied the Nine Cauldrons of Heaven and Man, but their differences grew larger and larger; martial artists insisted that text carried power, but the Wu tribe leaned toward graphics, even evolving a totem culture that flourished for a time.

In the end, the divergence evolved into a life-and-death struggle, which led to the historical event of the Martial Saint banishing the Wu tribe.

Today, the Primal Beginning Martial Saint has long since passed away, and the last Martial Saint in the world has also been gone for many years.

Yet the Wu tribe has been breeding and struggling in the bitter lands beyond the borders, continuing to this day, and has begun to counterattack.

Looking down from the sky, the vast, surging crowd of people pouring out of the black mountains was like countless streams merging together, and the direction they were flowing toward was clearly... the location where Su Cheng, Gongliang City, and Fucheng were situated.

This area where the three cities coexisted guarded the border of Beijing and was designated as Beixuan Zhou among the fifty states divided across the world.

The Sorcerer Tribe has re-emerged into the world, and their first target of slaughter is Beixuan Zhou! (End of this chapter)