"In the humble words of mine, Master Song, your compassion knows no bounds!"
Although he himself was a Taoist, and a Taoist from the Holy Might Forest at that, this man was also a local lord—sothing he could hardly fail to respect.
"No need for formalities, please rise. Where is the entrance to the Inner Sect of the Holy Might Forest?"
The old man froze for a mont and replied, "Actually, the entire city constitutes the Holy Might Forest. You must be referring to the Inner Sect, correct?"
"Correct."
Song Lin felt a twinge of surprise—was this Inner Sect concept even a thing?
What shocked him further was the realization that the entire city belonged to the Holy Might Forest. Such dominance was, truly, a bit overwhelming.
"Exit the building, turn left, and between the Thirteenth Cross Lane and Fourteenth is the entrance at Armor Twelve."
Talking as he wrote, the old man jotted down Song Lin’s na and position in his notebook.
"Thank you."
Song Lin took back his token and imdiately headed out the door.
Thirteenth Cross Lane...
Song Lin counted the lane numbers repeatedly on his way.
"Have you heard? This ti, Master Zhi Xin will also be attending the Divine General Conference."
Song Lin looked in the direction of the voices and saw two Taoists—one tall, one thin—not far away. Judging by their deanor, they were likely fellow attendees in this event.
"Master Zhi Xin? Wasn’t he locked in a literary duel with Master i Hua? Why has he suddenly co here?"
"Probably seeking inspiration."
Anyone could tell that Zhi Xin had been utterly defeated by i Hua’s Constant Number Theory. He was clearly on the losing end.
"Haha, regardless, if Master Zhi Xin takes notice of you, it’s as good as stepping into the heavens in a single leap."
"Really? But Taoist Zhi Xin doesn’t hold any official posts these days, does he?"
"You don’t know a thing. He used to be Taiji Left Minister of Zhouu Jueyin Heavenly Palace. Even though he’s retired now, he’s still far above the ordinary."
"So, what’s the reward for this Divine General Conference?"
"Not entirely sure. I’ve heard it’s the usage rights to a small piece of blessed land."
"What kind of blessed land?"
"Hard to say. I suppose we’ll find out when we get there."
The two n walked to the point between the Thirteenth Cross Lane and Fourteenth Cross Lane.
Before them lood a thick, solid wall. Without sparing it a glance, the two n passed straight through it. Onlookers nearby acted as if nothing unusual had occurred, faces calm and indifferent in a way that seed strangely natural.
"Interesting."
Song Lin thought to himself in silence.
This should be the legendary hidden street.
The so-called hidden street was an ancient relic from a ti when human, ghost, and demon coexistence had flourished.
Within the city were areas inaccessible to mortals: secret enclaves for ghostly beings and cultivators, reachable only via specific techniques.
With this realization, Song Lin swiftly followed them through the wall.
Rustle!
A sudden darkness fell before his eyes, and his body felt as though it were treading on cotton.
Once steady on his feet, Song Lin was left speechless at the sight before him.
Daylight had instantly transford into night. The surroundings were desolate, void of any buildings.
Instinctively, Song Lin raised his head and saw eight enormous Ghost Kings hanging high in the sky.
Each Ghost King displayed a distinct form.
One had a green face and sharp fangs, another bore bat wings, another had eight heads, and there was even one with three heads and six arms.
The eight Ghost Kings, towering in stature, collectively supported a colossal, gem-like city above them.
The city glimred faintly, as if carved entirely from jade.
An imposing city gate tower bore four majestic characters: Xuantian Jade City.
This, at last, was the Inner Sect of the Holy Might Taoist Temple.
These Eight Ghost Kings must have been the protector Taoist Soldiers from before the Holy Might Heavenly Master achieved enlightennt.
A single Ghost King alone was enough to make Song Lin feel utterly overwheld.
The true Holy Might Heavenly Master—how unfathomably powerful must they be?
Just as he entered, a mighty force swept him off the ground.
Song Lin’s figure was irresistibly drawn upward, eventually landing on a vast piece of terrain in the city’s southeastern zone.
The land stretched hundreds of miles and bore trees akin to black iron, their branches shaped into countless razor-sharp treasure swords that emitted Sword Qi, forming multi-colored clouds overhead.
At the heart of the sword-tree forest stood an enormous palace.
With a flash of light, Song Lin suddenly found himself inside the palace.
The hall was vast beyond asure, already filled with a diverse crowd.
These attendees wore different-colored robes and bore various worldly appearances. So exuded deep yin energy, others radiated a profoundly righteous aura, while a few, like Song Lin, maintained a reserved deanor.
Among them, Song Lin spotted soone familiar—and distinctly unpleasant—Zhao Wuji.
Zhao Wuji stood next to a middle-aged Taoist.
This Taoist emitted eerie, somber energy, with black runes inscribed on his face. The runes writhed like slow, creeping worms, giving him an unsettling look.
Zhao Wuji caught sight of Song Lin but did not greet him. Instead, he remained engrossed in conversation with the middle-aged Taoist, an expression of deference on his face.
Song Lin rely gave a fleeting glance and made no move to approach. He casually picked an inconspicuous spot to sit.
The grand hall was divided into four distinct regions.
The section where Song Lin sat was shrouded in darkness and thus dubbed the Ghost Zone.
In the world of Taoist Soldiers, there were generally four major categories: Heavenly, Ghost, Demon, and Human.
Song Lin’s Rampant Soldiers inevitably belonged to the Ghost category.
Around him sat masters from various lands, most of whom specialized in soldier-refinent techniques.
As Song Lin absorbed surrounding tidbits of information while contemplating the conference, a shadow suddenly lood before him.
Looking up, Song Lin saw Zhao Wuji and Lu Mingyang standing before him.
"Who might this Taoist be?"
Song Lin stood up.
"Hurry and pay respects to Taoist Lu Mingyang! Taoist Mingyang is from the Heavenly Army Upper Altar. A re drop from him could sustain you for a lifeti," Zhao Wuji scolded.
The Heavenly Army, after all, ranked higher than the Ghost Army. Ghost Soldiers were re spirits, whereas Heavenly Soldiers were cultivators’ refined souls or natural-born celestial beings.
"Greetings, Taoist gentlen," Song Lin said, neither servile nor arrogant.
He had no need to curry favor with anyone, especially people with such poor attitudes clearly intent on causing trouble.
"So this is the touted i Mountain Jungle genius—arrogant to the core. I must test his true capabilities later," said Lu Mingyang.
"Taoist brother, do pay no mind. It was my rashness at fault. Youthful audacity is quite normal," ca Zhao Wuji’s uncharacteristically conciliatory response.
Lu Mingyang rely snorted coldly and left without another word.
As Zhao Wuji departed, he cast a fleeting but teasing glance at Song Lin—his gaze reeked of provocation.
Ah, so that’s it, Song Lin thought to himself, newly enlightened. This was the infamous "killing with kindness." Zhao Wuji must’ve preconditioned Lu Mingyang with derogatory talk, skewing his impression from the outset.
Understanding this, Song Lin realized there was no point in rebuttal. The pre-existing bias made any argunt a losing ga.
Unbeknownst to him, the hall had gradually filled with roughly a hundred attendees.
The seats in the front two rows bore assigned nas, while seats at the back were unmarked and open for casual seating. Song Lin found his place toward the rear.
Suddenly, a haze of smoke rolled in, and two figures erged from within.
Both were elderly n, but neither displayed the sharp, aggressive air found in many of those present. If anything, they seed utterly ordinary.
Especially the one on the left, with hair casually draped down, eyes devoid of emotion, as still as stone.
"Greetings to Taoist Xuanqi! Greetings to Taoist Zhi Xin!"
The crowd arose and paid homage in unison.
Song Lin recognized now that the one on the left was Zhi Xin.
Zhi Xin... Zhi Xin... True to his na indeed: his heart seed at peace, as calm as a still well, devoid of ripples.
This was the mage embroiled in recent philosophical debates. Song Lin personally agreed with Zhi Xin’s points of view.
Of course, Song Lin did not fancy himself qualified to approach such an esteed figure for conversation, at least for the mont.
"Welco, everyone, to this year’s Divine General Conference. I’ll skip unnecessary pleasantries. This ti, the prize for the victor is a three-year rental of a Small Cave Heaven. The Small Cave Heaven is part of the Small Golden Altar Ti-Space Cave Heaven, with a tiflow ratio of one to twenty."
The mont this was announced, the crowd erupted in excitent.
Even Song Lin’s expression revealed a flicker of desire.
Though it wasn’t a Spirit Pill or so immortal dicine, winning this Small Cave Heaven would greatly accelerate his Taoist Temple’s strength.
The great hall buzzed with chatter among the hundreds gathered.
"Silence!"
Master Xuanqi’s face darkened, and the crowd instantly quieted.
"Let the conference begin. The first stage is Theory of Soldiers; the second stage entails Refining, Nurturing, and Combat of Soldiers. Each participant will present their thesis, and I’ll evaluate their ranks. Only those graded Third-Class and above may pass."
Master Xuanqi declared.
Participants proceeded in turn, each expounding on their insights into soldier refinent.
As long as their argunts held logic, substance, and innovation, they would pass.
Roughly half of the attendees managed to qualify.
When the turn of earlier participants had not yet reached him, Song Lin ntally prepared himself.
The first stage was quite stringent, as the second stage would verify the practicality of one’s theories.
If one’s practice failed to align with their theorized fraworks, they would lose qualification on the spot. Thus, success demanded more than hollow rhetoric—it required substantiated theory that could stand up to real-world results. This was how the Taoist School authenticated lofty discussions of Taoist Skills.
Zhao Wuji, leveraging his ample expertise, passed through with diocrity—solid, but unremarkable.
Now Lu Yangming rose and said, "Greetings, honored masters. My thesis is: ’The Theory of Scatter Bean Heavenly Soldiers as the Elental Source of Rampant Soldiers and Five Ghost Soldiers.’"
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