Bombarding Cultivators with Cluster Artillery
Chapter 675 - 656: All Beings Have Nothing to Do with Me

Tushan?

The name, Tushan!

Some of the Foundation-building cultivators around were puzzled and angry, feeling played.

Many other Foundation-building cultivators began to tremble, recalling the past nearly a hundred years.

From being a mere Qi Practitioner to a Foundation-building cultivator, most of their lives were overshadowed by the fame of Ancestor Tushan.

Back then, they even believed that from their birth to death, and their descendants' birth to death, they would become accustomed to Ancestor Tushan's fame, continuing into the distant future beyond their own reckoning.

Back then, they were used to the order within Tushan Immortal City—organized, orderly, demon cultivators forbidden, and they, as cultivators, would lead good, honest lives.

Then, suddenly.

Hei Clan's Immortal Cultivators arrived, many died, a new order emerged—more chaotic, bloodier, more brutal.

Hard work and skill were no longer standards for measuring a cultivator's strength, but only the cruellest, bloodiest, cultivators capable of exploiting other cultivators and mortals were needed by the Immortal City.

The Golden Pill path had become a taboo fantasy that could invite terrible disasters.

But what could be done?

The Hei Clan would kill all cultivators of outside surnames who might reach the Foundation Establishment stage, even Mid-stage Foundation Building Cultivators with excellent aptitude were on that terrifying bloody list, disappearing without a trace at any moment.

Only the mediocre, loyal Foundation-building cultivators would be allowed to live on, playing a part in the backup plan painstakingly managed by the Hei Clan.

At this moment, as the words "Tushan" were uttered,

All cultivators' gazes were fixed upon the youth in green standing before the city gates.

Green clothes, sword at his side, a sixteen-year-old youth.

And a face that hadn't changed at all in a hundred years.

Exactly like the one in their memories.

"Greetings, Ancestor!"

A Foundation-building cultivator with graying hair and fervent eyes did not hesitate for a moment before kneeling.

"Greetings, Ancestor!"

"Congratulations on Ancestor's return, to eternal life..."

Many surrounding Foundation-building cultivators also knelt and shouted fanatically.

These cultivators were Mid-stage Foundation Building or above, older, having experienced the previous era of Tushan Immortal City, not burdened by descendants, or not placing their descendants at heart.

With only the Golden Pill path in their hearts, they were reckless, ready to leap into the flames for a glimmer of hope, like moths to a flame.

The remaining Foundation-building cultivators hesitated.

Older ones, who had experienced the previous Tushan era, came with concerns and fears, hesitant from the possibility of entanglement.

The younger Foundation-building cultivators felt uncertain and distrusting of this newly emerged stranger.

Lastly, a small fraction of Foundation-building cultivators respectfully bowed their heads while sending out messages in all directions, loyalists to the Hei Clan or themselves members of the Foundation-building cultivators of the Hei Clan.

Qi Practitioners, however, were confused and unsure of what to do.

A myriad of living beings, each with their own choices.

The only commonality was,

They were all inconsequential.

The wind blew, the mountain collapsed, and regardless of whether the people within it were overjoyed or frightened, they could not change anything.

They could only get used to it, to endure.

"Hmm."

Jiang Ding nodded lightly, stretched out his hand, and Li Mingda's head fell into his palm.

Wisps of Sword Qi seeped out from his fingers, melting away the malicious seals which trapped the Divine Soul like ice and snow under the sun, not harming the Divine Soul within the slightest.

Instead, a surge of Spiritual Light flowed into it, making the weakened Divine Soul become increasingly solid, not dispersing even under the sunlight.

Thump... Thump... Thump...

The moment the head was taken, invisible curses crept toward Jiang Ding along with the head, and the city wall's Formation Method thundered, issuing a stern command to all directions.

Frightening punishments of the Hei Clan surfaced in the minds of the cultivators guarding the walls, sending shivers down their spines.

In the distance, even more cultivators formed into battle formations and advanced toward this location.

In just a few breaths' time, over a hundred cultivators quickly arrived, each one dressed in black, their aura ferocious.

The surrounding cultivators hurriedly made way, filled with unease and dread.

These were the infamous Black Guards within the Immortal City, the nightmares of many cultivators, known for dealing with past loose cultivators and exceptional talents within the city, rarely ever failing.

"You!"

"Put down the head of that remnant from Qiyu Sect!"

Among the more than a hundred cultivators in the battle formation, a Foundation-building cultivator in the latter stage, with a square face, shouted fiercely, "The Hei Clan is descendant from an Immortal, even Patriarch Jin Dan should not act recklessly in our Tushan Immortal City!"

As soon as these words were spoken, the surrounding cultivators were struck with horror.

Even those Foundation-building cultivators who initially knelt and pledged their loyalty were now filled with regret, their eyes darting left and right in search of an escape.

Jiang Ding paid them no heed.

He continued to carefully nurture Li Mingda's nearly shattered Divine Soul with Mana and soul-healing Elixirs.

Though he had little acquaintance with this elderly man, he was nevertheless someone from his past.

Over the years, Long San, Huang Deyou, and others had gradually passed away. As old acquaintances withered, he felt a multitude of emotions. Whenever he encountered one, he would lend a hand and heal them if he could.

"Seeking death!"

"Utterly hopeless!"

The square-faced cultivator came from the Hei Clan's collateral lineage. He knew nothing of old acquaintances, only that if he continued to hesitate, the punishments from the direct lineage cultivators would be hundreds of times more terrifying than death, so terrifying that he'd neither be able to live nor die.

"Kill him!"

The square-faced cultivator bellowed. A ghost-head greatsword exuding chilling Yin Energy cleaved down with a gust of wind, its technique stern and austere, accompanied by the mournful howling of eighteen Ghost Generals.

"Kill!"

The surrounding hundred or more cultivators shouted, their Magic Tools falling in unison with exquisite coordination. The fusion of Magic Tools formed a river, their combined power amplified by a trace of the Formation Method, terrifying in its might and causing the complexions of many Foundation-building cultivators to shift drastically.

These fearsome attacks mercilessly targeted the youth in green clothing who was cradling the weak and damaged soul, attempting to heal it.

Clang!

A faint sound of a sword's cry.

No Flying Swords were unsheathed, yet Sword Qi filled the air.

The river of powerful Magic Tools, terrifying in their momentum, halted abruptly; their Spiritual Light extinguished, they crashed to the ground, clanking and scattering sparks in all directions.

"No..."

The expressions of the square-faced cultivator and the other black-clad guards turned to one of horror. They couldn't even finish a sentence before their magical shields dissipated, their life force vanished, and they collapsed limply to the ground.

Surprisingly, not a single wound could be found on their bodies.

"Hiss..."

The surrounding Foundation-building Qi Practitioners were struck with terror.

They all bowed their heads profoundly; silence fell upon them as many less experienced cultivators etched the name Tushan deep into their minds.

Jiang Ding was completely focused on healing the damaged soul before him, not once getting distracted, doing everything possible to preserve the wholeness of the Divine Soul.

If there really was something like Reincarnation, then perhaps this would allow him to rebirth into a good family, not in vain for their hundred-year-old acquaintanceship.

"...It hurts... spare me..."

"...Mercy... have mercy..."

The wounded soul awakened, its face contorted with agony, ceaselessly wailing and weeping, evidently having undergone torture far beyond the limits of a Divine Soul, sobbing with tears streaming down.

After a long while, he barely regained a sliver of consciousness.

"Little Martial Uncle?"

"Little Martial Uncle!!"

Li Mingda repeated himself, his body trembling with elation.

Before him was indeed the Qiyu Sect's elder with the highest talent from generation to generation, who possessed the incomplete Xiantian Sword Body!

The mere fact was not sufficient to bring him such joy.

What was even more exhilarating was that this Little Martial Uncle was famously cautious, able to stay on one Little Mountain for decades on end without ever leaving. His patience was formidable, making it improbable for him to fall into danger.

Which meant...

"Yes, it's me."

"Elder Li, please rest a while."

Jiang Ding replied with a smile, confirming it wasn't an illusion.

He soothed him a bit, then took Li Mingda away.

Jiang Ding looked toward the seemingly empty void not far away and the constantly writhing top-tier third-order Formation Method patterns surrounding them.

There was someone here.

"You're in the late stages of the Golden Pill?"

Jiang Ding was slightly surprised as he recalled the Hei Clan's information.

Having read a vast number of books, he could now be considered the cultivator with the most understanding of the Hei Clan in this world.

A few hundred years into the future, if someone were to study the Hei Clan of the Black Snow Prairie, he would be the undoubted Taishan Beidou, a preeminent figure of authority.

"Your name is Hei Zefeng, you're the son of Hei Chengwu. He placed you here as a contingency plan; it seems he has put quite some thought into it and is not completely heartless."

Jiang Ding spoke calmly.

"Who are you?"

Ahead, the void shimmered, and a short-bearded man resembling the Hei Clan's leader Hei Chengwu was forcibly yanked out of stealth. He looked uncertainly at the youth in green before him.