Spare parts, and spare parts for the spare parts— that was one way to put it. But according to Senior Brother, if he really wanted to use them like this, he should have prepared at least ten.
Too bad he didn’t have that many suitable materials…
Lei Jun exhaled a long breath.
Since advancing to the Sixth Heaven Realm, he had rarely experienced such an intense depletion of mana like just now.
Firing three shots at once had almost drained him completely.
Especially the tal rail and refined tal sword pellets he had used against Lin Likong—both were large-caliber custom-made weapons he had recently developed.
Given the complicated situation and ti constraints, Lei Jun didn’t hesitate. Aside from relying on his Yin-Yang Sacred Physique and Breath-Taking Flag, he once again tapped into a page from the Heavenly Book, cycling spiritual energy through it to restore his mana as quickly as possible.
Then, he swiftly cleaned up the aftermath.
During this ti, the distorted spatial field surrounding the pillar of energy at the peak of Great Black Mountain had already begun shrinking and dissipating, returning to normal.
Having made his decision, Lei Jun didn’t hesitate for a mont.
Without delay, he stepped into the void.
Not long after he entered, the warped, rippling space settled like calm water, smoothing out until it looked completely normal again.
Even the pillar of energy that had once shot straight into the sky, as if bridging heaven and earth, began to fade away.
In the distance, from the direction of Morning Drum Mountain, an overwhelming sword aura swept toward Great Black Mountain like a howling blizzard.
When the blizzard stopped, it revealed a middle-aged scholar, appearing around fifty years old. His features were upright and refined, but his gaze was razor-sharp.
This was none other than Lin Litao, the Eighth Heaven Confucian Grand Scholar from the Youzhou Lin Clan—the one who had co to support Lin Likong.
Like Lin Likong, he was a senior elder of the Lin Clan, though younger in age. However, his cultivation surpassed that of Lin Likong, making him one of the Lin Clan’s topmost figures.
His presence was commanding, his robes billowing in the wind.
Unlike Lin Likong’s earlier disheveled state, he was composed and collected—but at this mont, his expression was grim and uncertain, his cold gaze sweeping across Great Black Mountain.
The chain of unexpected events had completely caught them off guard.
But what frustrated him even more was that they had no idea who was behind it.
And now—his own clan brother Lin Likong had disappeared as well?!
Unacceptable. Who dared do this?!
Lin Litao scanned his surroundings, but despite his efforts, he found nothing in a short amount of ti.
His face darkened like the bottom of a pot.
Inside the void, nine-colored lights shimred around Lei Jun, enhancing his form.
Earlier, in order to recover his mana quickly, he had heavily drawn upon the energy of the Breath-Taking Flag.
Although the Breath-Taking Flag had abundant and enduring power, it too required ti to recover.
To compensate, Lei Jun now activated the Ninefold Light of the Tianshi Robe, reinforcing himself with its divine aura.
On one hand, it served as a defensive asure.
On the other, he was running an experint.
Despite stepping into this otherworldly domain, the Tianshi Robe’s spiritual nature still managed to cross the void and provide its enhancent, further boosting Lei Jun’s confidence.
If the Tianshi Robe could still function across this space, then the Tianshi Seal should be able to as well.
Although the Upper-Moderate On he had drawn earlier indicated no imdiate danger, Lei Jun still made sure to prepare thoroughly.
The Serpent Bone had two main functions—concealnt and soul suppression.
However, if used for soul suppression, it would enter a period of dormancy, temporarily losing its concealnt ability.
As soone who always prioritized stealth, Lei Jun completely ignored the second function.
To him, the Serpent Bone’s ability to hide his presence was its most valuable feature.
Aside from that, Lei Jun instinctively reinforced himself with Wind Thunder Talismans, incorporating the mystical effects of Night Wind.
As the once-hazy void around him began to stabilize, revealing a clearer landscape, Lei Jun knew he had arrived in another world.
He made no sound upon arrival.
The first thing he did was blend seamlessly into his surroundings, making his presence undetectable.
Then, he moved away from his entry point while carefully observing this foreign land.
Unlike the frozen northern landscapes, this world was lush and green.
At first glance, it seed peaceful, without anything particularly strange.
However, Lei Jun’s keen senses picked up traces of desolation and ruin beneath the surface.
荒莽文华祸福转 (The Wild Turns Fortune to Misfortune, The Wild…)
Lei Jun pondered the text that had appeared in his Light Sphere, analyzing its aning as he cautiously advanced.
After traveling for a while and observing his surroundings, he gradually gained insight.
The flow of spiritual energy in this world was unnatural, as if it had once suffered massive destruction—so much so that its spiritual ridians had been severed in multiple places.
Looking again at the mountains and rivers, he began to notice more details.
The landscape was fragnted.
The mountains were low and misshapen, their rocky forms unnatural.
There were very few plains, with deep ravines and basins cutting through the land.
The rivers, though still flowing strong, had unnatural, chaotic paths, splitting into countless tributaries.
From a bird’s-eye view, it looked as if this entire world had been shattered and reassembled.
Once-mighty mountains had been flattened.
Once-vast plains had been torn apart.
Once-stable rivers had been violently reshaped.
This world had been completely devastated—perhaps multiple tis.
However, enough ti had passed that nature had slowly pieced itself back together, hiding the scars beneath a fragile veil of normalcy.
Yet, through the patterns of spiritual energy, Lei Jun could still see the remnants of catastrophe.
As he traveled deeper, his suspicions grew.
This world was massive.
Though smaller than the human world, it was far larger than any grotto-heaven he had ever encountered.
Had Senior Sister Xu Yuanzhen, Lin Che, and Lin Feng all been here before…?
Lei Jun frowned in thought.
So far, he had encountered no other living beings.
He picked up his pace.
After so ti, he started discovering traces of ruins.
They were not remnants of ordinary villages or cities—but instead resembled ancient Daoist dwellings.
Faint traces of Confucian scholarly energy still lingered.
Because the literary aura had not yet completely dissipated, these ruins had been preserved rather than erased.
It seed these ruins belonged to Confucian cultivators.
Upon closer examination, Lei Jun realized that these buildings had been forcefully destroyed.
And with them ca a lingering wild, domineering aura.
Even though years had passed, Lei Jun could still faintly sense the sheer power that had shattered this place.
Unlike Vast Void Temple’s techniques, this aura carried overwhelming destructive force—almost akin to the martial intent of a supre martial artist.
The Wild Turns Fortune to Misfortune…
Lei Jun had a mont of realization.
With his current insight and comprehension, he could perceive hidden truths at a glance.
This martial intent was overwhelmingly domineering and seed specifically designed to counter the Confucian Daoist lineage—as if it was crafted to suppress and destroy Confucian scholars.
If two individuals of equal cultivation fought, one wielding Confucian techniques and the other practicing this wild martial path, the martial artist would gain a natural advantage.
However, there was a drawback.
Practitioners of this wild martial path likely suffered an additional burden in return.
Lifespan…?
Lei Jun frowned slightly.
Their power was fierce, tyrannical, and devastating.
But it also carried a demonic taint—similar to the flaws found in Blood River Sect and Vast Void Temple’s heretical lineages.
Such power could influence one’s nature, leading to emotional instability or an increasingly violent temperant.
As far as Lei Jun knew, the Great Tang Dynasty did not have any known martial traditions like this.
However, he recalled reading about similar stories in ancient texts.
Because of the Confucian suppression, the scholarly energy here had faded—yet traces still remained.
When Lei Jun later examined this literary aura more carefully, he realized that the Confucian lineage in this world was different from the one practiced in the Great Tang.
“…The calligraphy style that Zhenxing Tuxing once asked about in the Celestial Star Universe… why does it feel similar to the literary flow of Confucianism here?”
Lei Jun’s eyes flickered with interest.
Unfortunately, his priority right now was to locate Senior Sister Xu Yuanzhen and find a way back.
So, he didn’t linger on his analysis for too long.
After ntally noting the relevant clues, he swiftly moved on.
This place was vast, and Lei Jun wandered through it for quite so ti.
Even so, he could tell he had only scratched the surface of this world.
Along the way, he encountered several more Confucian ruins, all devastated by the sa overwhelming martial intent.
But as ti passed, Lei Jun gradually pieced together a clearer picture of the spiritual energy pathways in this world.
Following these spiritual veins, he sought out areas where the energy was most concentrated.
After traveling for a long while, his gaze suddenly sharpened.
In the far distance, at the edge of the sky, he saw a strikingly unnatural darkness.
It was as if soone had stained a section of the world with thick, black ink.
It wasn’t a physical object—but a vast mass of black clouds.
Thunderclouds.
But these clouds were eerily silent, hanging in the sky like a frozen black glacier, suspended midair.
Lei Jun let out a long breath.
“You’re taking too long. Watching you inch forward like this is frustrating.”
At that mont, a familiar cool and indifferent voice rang out—spoken in a fast, crisp tone, like raindrops tapping against jade.
Hearing this, Lei Jun smiled slightly.
“It’s not that I want to be slow,” he replied. “To be honest, I’m actually quite anxious right now. But in situations like this, I know better than to act recklessly and let my mind get clouded.”
As he drew closer, the landscape beca even stranger.
Not only were there massive, frozen black thunderclouds looming overhead, but directly below them, the ground was ablaze with intense green flas.
A vast sea of erald fire burned fiercely—almost as if sothing was being refined within it.
However, unlike before, the owner of the voice was not sitting atop the thunderclouds as usual.
Lei Jun focused his gaze, looking toward the heart of the black storm.
There, at the center of the glacial thunderclouds, a petite figure sat cross-legged, as if sealed within ice.
She was dressed in a purple robe, with a black cloak draped over her shoulders. Her features were delicate and elegant, but her expression was utterly emotionless.
It was none other than his long-absent Senior Sister—Xu Yuanzhen.
"How did you find this place?" she asked calmly.
Her tone was flat, as if completely unsurprised by his presence.
"Lin Che led here," Lei Jun replied. "He wanted to either seal off or destroy the passage between this world and the Great Tang. So, Junior Sister Tang Xiaotang and I ca to investigate."
"Pointless self-inflicted trouble," Xu Yuanzhen remarked.
Her first sentence was a critique of Lin Che.
Her second was a question: "So, Xiaotang is outside fighting Lin Che and the others? Who’s involved?"
Lei Jun quickly summarized the situation.
"The Tang Imperial Family claims reinforcents are on the way, but we haven’t seen them yet, so we don’t know who they sent."
Xu Yuanzhen’s expression remained unchanged.
"So Xiaotang has already reached the Divine Court Realm?" she asked. "In that case, there’s no major issue. That girl’s temperant—suffering a little will do her good."
Lei Jun: "Senior Sister, what about you?"
Xu Yuanzhen: "As you can see, I’m in seclusion."
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