Chapter Seventy-One: The Ruins

Mount Huang.

Deep beneath the earth, in the unfathomable depths.

At the very end of the underground city.

Xie Guotao walked on, looking thoroughly disgruntled, with Yang Fan in tow.

“Halt! Identification!”

A thunderous shout stopped Xie Guotao and Yang Fan in their tracks.

Yang Fan surveyed the scene before him.

A massive pane of reflective glass?

Six guards?

And all of them were cultivators?

Even more, none of them seemed weak—a lineup of formidable practitioners.

Yang Fan was puzzled; there was nothing ahead but an immense sheet of glass. How big was it? It was hard to guess.

There were guards stationed here? And they wanted to check identification?

Yang Fan felt lost, but Xie Guotao was unbothered. He took a small booklet from his pocket and handed it over.

One of the six guards took the booklet, glanced at it, then returned it to Xie Guotao.

He turned his gaze to Yang Fan.

Xie Guotao cleared his throat. “Ahem, this is Yang Fan, a special recruit by General Wang this time. He hasn’t got his credentials yet. General Wang sent me to bring him in first.”

The six guards scrutinized Yang Fan, sensing the fluctuations of blood and energy about him. Just a young fellow—at best, third rank, maybe a peak of the second. Weak.

They nodded at Xie Guotao and Yang Fan.

Xie Guotao was just about to lead Yang Fan onward when they were halted again.

“Wait a moment, we need to check with headquarters.”

One of the guards took out a radio and began to inquire.

Xie Guotao’s face darkened, and Yang Fan felt equally awkward.

Why nod if you still need to confirm? It’s misleading, not to mention embarrassing.

…

Three minutes later, the guards let them pass.

Xie Guotao continued forward, stopping at the reflective glass. He looked back at Yang Fan, who lagged behind with a frown. “Come on. Why are you just standing there?”

Yang Fan was bewildered. Was everyone in the Skynet organization this odd?

Go? Where? There’s nothing ahead but this enormous pane of glass. Beyond it would just be the rock of the mountain.

Are you planning to burrow through the earth? Can you even do that?

Xie Guotao saw the suspicion on Yang Fan’s face and felt a twinge of helplessness.

He’d forgotten to explain.

But it wasn’t entirely his fault—this rascal had been grumbling nonstop the entire way here. He’d completely forgotten to mention their destination.

But seeing Yang Fan’s look—as if staring at an idiot—he no longer felt like explaining.

“Keep up, hurry!” Xie Guotao ordered, then stepped into the glass.

What happened next nearly made Yang Fan’s eyes pop out.

Ripples spread across the glass as Xie Guotao’s foot vanished into it. Then half his body, then his whole body.

“Holy—”

Yang Fan exclaimed in shock.

Xie Guotao had just been devoured—by the glass?

He stood rooted to the spot, mouth agape.

The six guards watched his stunned expression, all struggling to stifle their laughter.

They wondered if this fellow truly had no idea where he was.

Was this some kind of joke?

No one bothered to enlighten Yang Fan. After a while, Xie Guotao emerged again from the glass.

Just as Yang Fan’s nerves began to settle, his heart started racing again.

Is this some sort of trickery?

Damn.

“What are you gawking at? I’ve been waiting for you on the other side for ages. What are you doing, sightseeing?” Xie Guotao said impatiently.

Crossing between worlds through this passage was hardly comfortable—coming and going was downright unpleasant!

“On the other side? That side? Would you mind being clear?” Yang Fan felt his mind lagging behind.

What the hell was all this?

Xie Guotao, equally annoyed, replied, “The Ruins! The Dark Realm! Get over here!”

“The Ruins? The Dark Realm?” Yang Fan muttered.

He turned and bolted.

Xie Guotao was momentarily stunned, then cursed under his breath, “Little brat!”

With a burst of speed, he darted after him.

The six guards were now laughing so hard they were nearly in tears.

What a scene.

All these years stationed here, none of them had ever witnessed anything like this.

Inside, Yang Fan felt as if thunder exploded in his heart.

Just those four words—Ruins, Dark Realm—were enough to make his skin crawl.

“Damn, damn, damn it. The Ruins? The Dark Realm? I’m not going. Old Li Tian, when you took me as your disciple, didn’t you promise you’d never force me into the Ruins? Your promises are crap—you tricked me! If I could beat you, I’d pull out all your beard!”

Yang Fan cursed as he ran.

He suddenly glanced over his shoulder.

Then, with another curse, he channeled all his energy into his legs.

Orange streams of energy gathered at his feet, and his speed surged.

“Berserker’s Nine Heavens!”

Breaking through the ninth heaven…

With one step, he crossed three meters; with two, he was six meters away; with three, he was already twelve meters out.

Each step farther and higher than the last.

Behind him, Xie Guotao, seeing Yang Fan even employ his battle technique, grew even more exasperated.

In all these years, he had never met a cultivator like this.

Every other cultivator of this era was bold and heroic, charging forward without hesitation.

But this boy—he was something else entirely.

Xie Guotao’s patience ran out. He unleashed his aura.

A surge of power at the level of a seventh-rank grandmaster exploded in place, and he lunged forward.

Yang Fan, with each step, felt his energy wane, but his speed was astonishing.

“Berserker’s Nine Heavens!”

Breaking through the ninth heaven.

Step by step, heaven by heaven.

Yang Fan had barely crossed the threshold of this technique, and three steps was all he could muster.

But those three steps were impressive—twelve meters, sustained, not just a single burst like other techniques.

Yang Fan was still reveling in his speed when a sharp sound split the air behind him.

He crashed to the ground, clutching his stomach, looking ahead with wounded resentment.

Xie Guotao now stood not far away, one foot raised.

“What are you running for? Can’t you stop being such a coward? It’s just the Ruins—are you really that scared?”

Yang Fan’s face was flushed, rendered speechless.

He had no choice. Xie Guotao had suddenly appeared before him and raised his leg—he’d run right into it like a fool.

Now he was winded.

A third-rank warrior, winded just like that.

Xie Guotao didn’t say another word. He grabbed Yang Fan by the collar and dragged him back.

Halfway there, Yang Fan caught his breath and began to struggle again.

Xie Guotao showed no mercy—he unleashed his aura to envelop Yang Fan, rendering him instantly immobile.

When they reached the glass door—the passage—Yang Fan’s face was ashen.

The six guards burst out laughing as Xie Guotao dragged Yang Fan over.

Without hesitation, Xie Guotao kicked Yang Fan straight through.

…

The Ruins.

To most people on Earth, the Ruins were thought of as a pocket world—a paradise, filled with birdsong and fragrant flowers, with dangers few and far between.

A wondrous place, teeming with martial arts, rare medicines, divine weapons—an inexhaustible trove of treasures.

But to those who truly understood, the Ruins were Earth’s first line of defense—and its last.

This was the frontline in the war against the Dark Realm, the battlefield where the fate of the world was decided.

Cultivators from every corner of the globe rose to the challenge and entered this place—whether to defend home and country or to seek their own destiny. No one who reached this place held anything back.

The Ruins were not especially vast.

They had been measured by the greatest warriors—some four hundred thousand mu in area.

Shaped like a wedge—narrow in the middle, broad at both ends.

The rear faced humanity; the front, the Dark Realm.

The Ruins were like an hourglass, connecting two worlds.

…

At the human rear of the Ruins, beside a wall of reflective glass, thirty squads of cultivators were stationed.

Each wore a standard-issue uniform, all in red, with a dragon’s head emblazoned on the shoulder.

“Captain, what happened to Grandmaster Xie just now? He’d barely arrived before he turned right back! Did he leave the gas on at home or something?” joked a small, wiry man among the thirty.

“Monkey, watch your tongue. Why are you gossiping about a grandmaster? Careful, or Grandmaster Xie will teach you a lesson!” a burly man beside him replied with a grin—clearly in jest.

“Bear, what do you know? Grandmaster Xie is a seventh-rank powerhouse. His magnanimity is unmatched. He wouldn’t bother with me!” Monkey retorted, his mouth stretching even wider across his narrow face.

At the very front, the captain called “Monkey” turned to watch his men banter, making no move to stop them.

He spoke up, “You lot, honestly. Are grandmasters really fair game for your jokes? Especially Grandmaster Xie—did you forget how, just five months ago, he slew the enemy at Luoyan Ridge? One against two, killed one outright. You shouldn’t spread rumors about such a hero. If you’re bored, wait till Leopard Squad relieves us in a few days. When Dragon Squad heads to the front, take out your frustrations on those Dark Realm bastards instead of running your mouths here.”

Monkey, Bear, and the rest grinned and nodded.

Truly, guarding this passage was stifling work. The fighting ahead never ceased, and these men, stuck in the rear, rarely heard so much as a sound. It was suffocating.

But thinking of the coming rotation, when they would head to the front, their blood surged with excitement.

Captain Xiao Hewu of Dragon Squad, seeing the fighting spirit in his men, felt a surge of pride.

But after watching a moment longer, he turned away, tiger eyes brimming with unshed tears.

He whispered softly, almost to himself, “In a few days, it’ll be our turn again. May fewer die this time.”

Hearing the lively chatter behind him, the captain thought this life was, in its way, a good one.

Brothers gathered together, talking and laughing.

“If only those Dark Realm mongrels didn’t exist…”

Three months ago, at the Ruins’ front lines, the Second City War broke out. The Dark Realm’s Northwatch City launched a sudden raid on Dragon City, catching them unprepared.

In the initial clash, casualties were heavy. The situation nearly turned catastrophic before Resist North City arrived to reinforce, finally stabilizing the battle.

The Dragon City and Dragon Squad he commanded suffered grievous losses—of more than a hundred men, only thirty now remained, withdrawn to the rear for recovery.

He remembered that day—Guo Xuan, who, on his last breath, still lunged at the enemy; his deputy, Huang Hai, who had just reached fourth rank, interposed himself at a critical moment, taking a fatal blow, and with his dying breath urged him to slaughter every last Dark Realm dog.

As these memories flooded back, a scalding tear slipped down his cheek.

The captain’s aura flared, vaporizing the tear instantly.

Within the Ruins, there were no mere cultivators. Here, all were warriors.