Ch. 28 - The Hell-Suppressing Orbs Are Complete

Xu Zimo figured that in his past life, Cui Yuan must have been nothing more than a minor mob character meant to grant experience. After being killed by Chu Yang, he had dropped the final Hell-Suppressing Orb, so naturally, Xu Zimo had never known where it originally came from.

Yet in this life, by pure chance, Xu Zimo had seized the orb from Cui Yuan himself. What a twist of fate.

Watching Dark Thirteen approach step by step, Chu Yang staggered backward. His chest burned with pain, and blood loss was making him dizzy.

“Am I really going to die like this?” Chu Yang thought bitterly.

He had Old Mo’s guidance.

He had cultivated an imperial technique.

He still needed to find Xiao’er.

He couldn’t accept dying here, not like this!

“Little Yang, don’t worry. As long as I’m here, no one will harm you,” Elder Mo’s voice rang out from the ring.

“Elder Mo, you, ” Chu Yang looked at the ring in confusion.

A spectral image of an elderly man slowly emerged from within the ring.

The moment the old man appeared, it was as if all of heaven and earth fell silent.

Sun and moon shifted. Reincarnation never ceased.

An invisible force surged from the elder’s body. He stood with his hands behind his back, white hair at his temples, dressed in a long green robe.

With a deep sigh, he radiated an ancient and domineering aura.

“Wh–what is this?” Dark Thirteen stared warily at the old figure.

“In my prime, even Empyrean Meridian experts meant nothing to me,” the old man said calmly. “And a mere bug at the Spirit Meridian level dares try to kill someone I’ve chosen?”

“You said it yourself, in your prime. How much strength do you still have now?” Dark Thirteen replied, drawing a jade token.

This jade token had been given to him by Xu Zimo, and it housed a soul fragment of Xu Qingshan.

“Not good!” Old Mo immediately recognized what the token was for.

He hadn’t expected the enemy to come prepared. He’d just made his dramatic entrance, and now this?

With a flick of his right hand, a cage descended from the sky, trapping Dark Thirteen. Then he grabbed Chu Yang by the shoulder and shouted, “Go!”

The cage wasn’t strong enough to hold Dark Thirteen for long, but Old Mo had just expended every last drop of his stored strength to buy enough time to escape with Chu Yang.

…

In a dense forest, Old Mo finally set Chu Yang down. His projection was already dim and nearly dissipated.

“Elder Mo, are you okay?” Chu Yang asked anxiously.

“I’m fine, don’t worry,” Elder Mo said with a tired smile. “I just overused my soul power. I’ll need time to recover. If you find any herbs that nourish the soul in the future, keep an eye out for me.”

With that, Old Mo returned to the ring.

Chu Yang nodded and exhaled deeply.

The bleeding from his chest had stopped, but his head still ached.

He leaned against a large tree, hoping to rest a bit.

Suddenly, footsteps approached again. Chu Yang tensed, could it be the black-clad man returning?

Looking up, he saw a man dressed in white with a sword strapped to his back. The man smiled calmly as he walked forward.

Just as Chu Yang was about to speak, he felt an overwhelming pressure bearing down on him.

He let out a muffled groan, unable to move a single muscle.

This swordsman felt even more dangerous than the man from before.

The man knelt down in front of him and gently took the Hell-Suppressing Orb from Chu Yang’s chest.

“Who are you?” Chu Yang demanded, staring with burning eyes.

“Tenmile Vastsky,” the man replied with a smile and turned to leave.

As soon as the swordsman left, Chu Yang’s body loosened and he gasped for breath.

“Elder Mo?” he called out tentatively.

“That man is incredibly strong, I didn’t dare reveal myself. At least Paragon Meridian realm,” Old Mo said gravely.

“Why do I feel like I’m just a pawn in someone else’s game?” Chu Yang muttered. “Like an invisible hand is controlling everything.”

“Don’t overthink it. Focus on cultivating,” Old Mo said. “You’re still too weak. One day, when you're strong enough, you can get everything back.

“It’s just a pity about the orb.”

Chu Yang nodded firmly, eyes burning with determination.

…

Xu Zimo took the final Hell-Suppressing Orb from Vastsky, holding back his delight.

“Not bad. Good work.”

“Why didn’t you let me kill him?” Vastsky asked.

“Don’t you think a world with no worthy opponent is a lonely one?” Xu Zimo smiled. “I want to give him hope, then rip it away again and again. That’s what makes it fun.”

“What about what you promised me?” Chang Kong asked.

Xu Zimo handed him two technique manuals: Heavenly Chant Sword Art and Three Talents Sword Formation.

“Relax. I always keep my word,” Xu Zimo said with a grin.

Chang Kong said nothing, but inwardly he realized, being friends with Xu Zimo was a lot better than being his enemy.

The next morning, the group left Skysword City.

Before leaving, Xu Zimo gave Guan Zhenhai a warning: “Some things should be kept in check.”

“I understand,” Guan Zhenhai nodded quickly.

He knew Xu Zimo was referring to how he'd abused the True Martial Sacred Ground's name to make deals with the Chang Clan.

But Xu Zimo didn’t press the issue. He knew this world wasn’t black and white. There were no absolute saints or complete villains.

As long as things stayed within the bounds of the game, it was tolerable.

…

These few days marked the liveliest time for True Martial Sacred Ground, the gates of the sect were opening, and new disciples were being recruited.

Across the vast lands of the Eastern Continent’s Western Region, countless youths were sharpening their swords, eager to join the sacred sect revered in every heart.

Even surrounding minor sects wanted to send their most talented disciples to True Martial, for it offered a broader world, better opportunities, and superior resources.

…

At the entrance to the sect stood 188 stone steps.

Any aspiring disciple had to climb them, this was the first test.

The first 100 steps had double gravity.

The middle 80 steps had five times gravity.

The final 8 steps bore tenfold gravity.

This trial tested only one thing: willpower.

Only those who could climb all 188 steps by their own resolve would pass.

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