I Can See Your Combat Power
Chapter 1779 - 212: Proclamation

The Beast Taming Clan has endured for a thousand years, and in Xiehe alone, there are dozens of different Soul Marks. The commonly used ones include body marks—typically spiritual engravings painted on the beast’s body. If a tamed beast disobeys its tamer’s commands, these marks can be activated using unique techniques to induce unbearable pain.

More severe ones include the Blood Flame Curse, Bone Engraving, and Neck Thorns, though there are also gentler marks such as the Four-Leg Binding or Mouth Seal.

However, these inscriptions, which act on the physical body, essentially rely on spiritual power to function. Hence, they require frequent maintenance and always carry the risk of failure.

Later, a great master of the Beast Taming Sect devised a technique that directly targeted the beast’s soul, revolutionizing the art of beast taming.

For tamers, making rugged and thick-skinned wild beasts obedient by inflicting pain has always been the hardest part. But since the advent of the Soul Mark, this difficulty was eliminated.

If the pain of blades slicing through flesh is a ’one,’ and the agony of bone carving is a ’ten,’ then the pain caused by a fully activated Soul Mark—a torment that resonates with the soul itself—can be rated at a ’hundred’!

Even the most fearless and resilient Dragon Beasts couldn’t withstand the activation of a Soul Mark; after several bouts, they would invariably submit.

The divine beasts and rare creatures before them were subdued using this very method, yet moments ago, Ghostcloth Wolf had maximized the power of the Soul Mark to its peak, only for it to still yield no result.

The eerily motionless and seemingly trembling form of the strange beast before them rattled the nerves of the steel-fisted tamer. Recalling the cruel methods he’d used to subdue wild beasts in the past, an ominous feeling began to creep over Ghostcloth Wolf.

Meanwhile, Murong Jun, standing on the side, began calling out the name of his beast after discovering that the Soul Mark was ineffective: "Jinzi, Jinzi, what’s wrong? Look back here, look at me!"

Jinzi was the Gold-armored Lion-Tiger Beast’s name. This mutated beast with divine beast lineage was born a king among its kind.

It was also the life-bound beast entrusted to Murong Jun by the previous mountain master of Thousand Birds Peak, a bond forged in childhood and steeped in deep affection.

The dazed Jinzi turned its head with a somewhat complicated expression upon hearing its master’s call. In that moment, it had felt the freedom it had gained, yet the sound of Murong Jun’s voice compelled it to instinctively look back.

Murong Jun had no way of knowing what kind of celestial battle the Lion-Tiger Beast might be experiencing. As a tamer, the eerie scene before him left him flustered, and in his confusion, he instinctively sought the support of the companion he trusted most.

Compared to Ghostcloth Wolf, his fellow handler whose own beast had suddenly halted, Murong Jun placed his faith in Jinzi. When he saw the Lion-Tiger Beast still standing dazed, he anxiously called out again, "What are you standing there for? Hurry over here!"

Perhaps this urgent shout stirred the tense and awkward silence hanging over Spirit Sheep Island. Not only did the divine beasts and rare creatures that had been encircling Meng Jiao turn their menacing gazes back, but even the scores of wild beasts stationed on the periphery began crouching low and advancing toward Ghostcloth Wolf and Murong Jun.

"Can someone tell me what the hell is going on here?!"

The sight before him shattered Ghostcloth Wolf’s lifelong beliefs about beast taming. Clutching the Poison-Repelling Bead, the Iron Wing Clan Master felt his scalp tingle with fear and shouted frantically, "None of the Soul Marks are working! What sorcery is this?!"

Sorcery?

Murong Jun let out a bitter laugh. If he’d felt uncertain earlier, the moment he saw the tide of beasts turning against them, his worst fears had already been confirmed. The most sensible course of action now should be to activate the Xuanji Jade and escape. Yet how could he abandon his life-bound beast?

As Thousand Birds Peak’s master hesitated, a sudden gleam of teleportation lights flared beside him. Ghostcloth Wolf, amidst his frantic cries, had already infused his spiritual jade with spiritual power in preparation to activate the escape formation, not even extending him a word of notice. Clearly, the bonds of camaraderie had been cast aside.

With an apologetic expression, the Iron Wing Clan Master turned his head away, unable to meet Murong Jun’s gaze, praying the escape light would swiftly whisk him away.

Yet whether it was due to psychological perception or a cruel twist of fate, what usually appeared as the rapid speed of the teleportation formation now seemed slow as a snail, stretching every instant into an eternity suffused with shame and anguish.

If he had any control over circumstances, Ghostcloth Wolf wouldn’t have chosen to leave like this. Yet the moment he sensed the murderous intent from the beasts, the tamer instinctively activated the spiritual jade.

The desperate will to survive bypassed all higher moral concerns, revealing to Ghostcloth Wolf the stark reality of his character. He was far from the righteous and honorable figure he boasted to be, nor worthy of the virtuous reputation others had bestowed upon him.

This involuntary action forced him into a solemn appraisal of his own nature. The shame didn’t stem from betraying Murong Jun but from recognizing his own cowardice.

With eyes tightly shut in self-reflection, Ghostcloth Wolf wished for the dizzying effects of teleportation to come quickly and wash away his humiliation. But as the teleportation stone was torn apart like a piercing arrow, his hopes for solace were dashed entirely.

The Broken Xuan Jade streaked like strands of white, tearing through the teleportation formation and thwarting Ghostcloth Wolf’s escape at the last moment, leaving him stranded.

"Heh heh heh! Wild beasts turning on their masters and tearing them apart—this kind of spectacle hasn’t been seen in centuries. How can you leave as a guest?"

From the outskirts of the beast pack, the solemn and imposing Deva Treasure Banner setting was pierced by a crude and gleeful male voice. It was Meng Jiao, who had recovered his bearing and smashed the Iron Wing Clan Master’s escape attempt with a Broken Xuan Jade, extinguishing any hope of flight.

...

Red Cloud Mountain, Unparalleled Courtyard.

The two sect disciples arrived almost simultaneously in the courtyard, looking skyward.

"Did you feel it?"

The Wushen Mountain disciple Zhu Huolong spoke gravely, hesitatingly: "Did something just change in the heavens and earth?"

"I felt something too, vaguely, but I can’t be sure."

Qiyao Temple’s Lei Dong paused in thought, then shook his head, saying, "Perhaps it was just an illusion."

"How could it be an illusion?!"

Zhu Huolong furrowed his brows, disappointed in the disciple’s perception and cultivation as a member of Longzhou Sect.

The claim that reclusive sects occupy the world’s immortal mountains and spiritual veins is widely accepted, but the truth is, if cultivation relied solely on geographic advantages, how vast would those veins need to be to sustain centuries of sect extraction?

The true reason these immortal mountains are mystical is the presence of great masters who continuously transformed the heavens and earth into conditions most favorable for their sect’s unique teachings.

Why is the Yi King Technique most easily comprehended and broken through in the Divine Court? Why is the Twelve Witch Bodies unfathomable outside of specific regions? Why is Kunwu hailed as the "immortal mountain among immortal mountains"? Why do Yuanzhou’s peak swordsmen seek seclusion in the Sword Pavilion?

For the highest levels of cultivation, the environment’s importance can exceed even the talent of disciples.

While talented disciples can be sought from afar, a suitable environment for cultivation—a rare occurrence unless by divine favor—must be painstakingly shaped through the power of masters.

As a direct disciple of Wushen Mountain, Zhu Huolong had witnessed multiple occasions of ancestral transformation where gods altered the heavens and earth. The sensation just now was identical to those phenomena.

The only difference was, after the ancestral deities acted, the heavens and earth invariably changed noticeably. But this time, despite the apparent shift, it seemed as though nothing had changed.

It felt as though some supreme master had performed an act merely to announce their existence. How could Zhu Huolong not feel a chill from this realization?