Chapter Three: Damn It!

“When did the Beast Sect start breaking even oaths sworn upon the Sacred Qilin?” Liu Yueming finally spoke.

Zuo Hou clenched his teeth, the muscles at the corner of his mouth twitching, then turned and vaulted onto the Qilin beast. “Let’s go!”

At the knights’ command, the Qilin beast raised its iron hooves and stomped heavily on the ground, sending clouds of dust billowing into the air.

Zhou Yu, lying on the ground, was covered by a thick layer of dust.

“This time I’ll let you go, but next time, I swear by the Sacred Qilin, I’ll make you wish for death!” Zuo Hou’s roar echoed as he departed.

Liu Yueming brushed the dust off Zhou Yu and helped him up, then addressed the old man, “He should be fine. That guy’s body is exceptionally tough.”

The old man sighed. “This was a lesson for him as well. In the end, strength is what matters most. He says he understands, but he still acts on impulse.”

“But I have to admit, that slap was rather satisfying,” Liu Yueming remarked coolly.

“Satisfying as it was, was it worth getting beaten up like this? Young people have their passion, but it shouldn’t go too far. You must learn to control yourself or you’ll suffer a lot,” the old man said, pulling a pill from his pocket and placing it in Zhou Yu’s mouth.

This was a military ration pill given to them by the Medicine King; a single pill could sustain a person for ten days without food or drink, keeping them full of strength and energy. Every nation coveted the secret formula, but the Medicine King kept it closely guarded, never divulging it no matter the threat or temptation. If the secret of the military ration pill were ever released, it would ignite wars everywhere.

As soon as the pale green pill entered his mouth, it dissolved into a rich liquid with the fragrance of grains that flowed into Zhou Yu’s stomach.

The Medicine King had said that Zhou Yu’s body was very peculiar: his meridians varied in thickness, his cellular activity was extremely high, and he carried many toxins within. The uneven meridians made cultivation alternately easy and difficult, sometimes so painful that he would faint.

His highly active cells granted him powerful regenerative abilities and immense energy storage, but also made leveling up exceptionally hard.

The accumulation of toxins allowed Zhou Yu to ignore any poison in this world. Upon hearing the Medicine King’s assessment, Zhou Yu had once quipped mysteriously, “Thank you, gutter oil, thank you, Sudan Red, thank you...”

The energy from the military ration pill was absorbed in a short time and distributed throughout Zhou Yu’s body, especially to the wounded area of his abdomen, where his cells frantically absorbed energy and continually repaired themselves.

A pill that could sustain a seasoned warrior for ten days was completely digested by Zhou Yu in just an hour. Color gradually returned to his pale face. Looking at the worried old man, Zhou Yu said, “I’m sorry. I acted recklessly.”

Seeing Zhou Yu awake, the old man couldn’t bring himself to scold him. He simply said, “As long as you understand.”

Because of Zhou Yu’s injury, the trio had to slow their pace. By the time they entered the Spirit Realm’s boundaries, ten days had passed.

They traversed a winding canyon and, looking ahead, saw a thirty-meter-wide waterfall cascading from a cliff hundreds of meters high. The protruding rocks along the cliff had been polished smooth and slippery by the waterfall’s spray. Water crashed against the rocks, sending up countless sprays and forming a fine mist. Under sunlight, the mist revealed a vibrant rainbow.

Below the waterfall was a clear, pristine spring. The falling water created ripples like fish scales. Lush grass bordered the water, and several peach trees bloomed with exuberant flowers.

Despite the picturesque scenery, Zhou Yu frowned. The Qilin beast knights must have already entered the Spirit Realm—what would happen when they met again?

Just then, his long-silent watch suddenly emitted a beeping alarm.

Zhou Yu looked down. In the center of the watch’s screen was a red dot, pulsing outward with rings of light. Within one ring, numerous green dots clustered densely together. Each time the ring swept over the green dots, the watch beeped.

What were those green dots? Zhou Yu wondered.

“Hurry up,” Liu Yueming urged. Now inside the Spirit Realm, perhaps the truth would soon be revealed. Anxious, he had no time to appreciate the scenery.

The three pressed onward. After about a mile, they spotted a pavilion, where two people were playing chess.

“Please stop. Do you have invitations?” a middle-aged man in the pavilion spoke without looking up, yet his voice carried energy, reaching them as if whispered into their ears despite the distance.

“C-class strength,” Zhou Yu suddenly heard the watch emit a mechanical voice. He glanced at the old man and Liu Yueming, but they showed no reaction. Zhou Yu wondered—was he the only one who could hear the watch?

“We have no invitations,” the old man replied as they drew closer.

“These are extraordinary times. Without invitations, I must ask you to leave,” the middle-aged man said, turning and gesturing politely.

“But we have an urgent matter. We must see the Spirit Realm’s master,” the old man insisted.

The middle-aged man moved a black chess piece three columns forward. “You’ve lost,” he said.

The other player, a young man, frowned and pondered for a long time before finally admitting, “I’ve lost.”

Only then did the middle-aged man turn fully toward the trio. “And what matter is this?” he asked.

The old man hesitated, glanced at Zhou Yu, then at Liu Yueming, and finally said, “It’s about the legend.”

The middle-aged man’s gaze was sharp as a blade. He lingered on Liu Yueming for a moment, uttering a soft “hmm,” then fixed his eyes on Zhou Yu.

After observing them for a while, he sighed helplessly. “Then please proceed.”

The trio said no more and continued into the realm.

As they passed the pavilion, Zhou Yu heard the middle-aged man remark, “That’s the seventieth one.”

The beeping from the watch continued in his ears. Zhou Yu looked again—his red dot was now much closer to the cluster of green dots. A sudden idea flashed in his mind, startling him.

In the distance, buildings began to appear—grand, imposing structures with blue tiles, yellow walls, and towering pillars painted imperial red, creating a striking visual impact.

Then a young boy approached and said, “Chosen ones to the right, sect representatives to the left.”

The trio was bewildered, but followed the boy’s instructions and headed right.

The boy led them into an expansive estate, arriving at the main gate, which was painted a deep red and adorned with a plaque bearing three golden characters: ‘Martial Hall.’ Even before stepping inside, Zhou Yu could hear the commotion within.

“Fuck your mother! I’m the chosen one!”

“Damn! What’s going on here?”

As Zhou Yu entered the hall, he found a crowd gathered on a blue stone plaza. On his watch, the red dot was now nearly touching the cluster of green dots.

He stared at the crowd—some in T-shirts, some in trench coats, some in dress shirts, some in leather shoes, some wearing Adidas or Nike, some with ties. Zhou Yu was stunned. His suspicion was actually true. But what on earth was happening?

Snapping back to reality, Zhou Yu noticed among the crowd white faces, black faces, and even mixed-race individuals. He couldn’t help but exclaim, “Damn!”