Ch. 183 - Land of Misfortune

The ancient past has faded with time, buried beneath the dust of history, this is the truest depiction of the Northern Region. Over countless years, a once-vibrant land has turned desolate, and the races of old have become mere wisps of historical smoke.

Now, the Northern Region is nothing but endless emptiness and desolation. As far as the eye can see, the boundless land holds nothing but monotonous reddish-brown hues.

A dozen riders galloped swiftly. Fifth Master Zhang’s village was two hundred miles away, and at this pace, they could reach it before sunset.

Ye Fan rode alongside Fifth Master Zhang, earnestly seeking knowledge about the secrets of Source mining.

A thousand years ago, the Celestial Source Tome was lost, and many Source-seeking techniques vanished with it. Fifth Master Zhang sighed regretfully whenever the topic arose.

Ye Fan felt a pang of disappointment. That book was undoubtedly a marvel, and he yearned to glimpse its contents. To locate Source dragon veins and secure peerless Godsources, such methods were world-shaking. Mastering them would make one a revered guest of any Sacred Ground. The book’s value was immeasurable. The dozen riders galloped on, leaving trails of dust in their wake.

An hour later, the horses slowed, having covered only seventy or eighty miles. These were not fine steeds, their stamina mediocre.

Suddenly, seven or eight riders appeared on the horizon, moving with incredible speed, like a whirlwind stirring up towering dust. In the blink of an eye, they were upon them.

Their mounts were no ordinary horses. Gleaming with luster, tall and robust, these were Dragon Scale Horses, resembling horses but covered in azure scales, capable of traveling four to five thousand miles a day without tiring.

“Trouble, it’s bandits!” Wang Shu, the sharp-witted youth among the group, paled.

“Stop right there!” a dark-skinned middle-aged man barked.

The eight Dragon Scale Horses surrounded Ye Fan’s group, their riders shouting, “Hand over all the Source you’ve mined, or this will be your burial ground!”

Ye Fan finally experienced the chaos of this lawless land firsthand. In broad daylight, bandits roamed freely, ready to kill and plunder. “Sirs, we haven’t mined a single grain of Source today, no harvest at all,” Wang Shu explained with a forced smile.

“Cut the nonsense! You Source miners never talk until you see your coffin. Hand it over, and you can leave. Otherwise, this day next year will be your memorial!” the dark-faced leader snapped. “Sirs, we truly have nothing. Search us if you don’t believe us, we won’t resist,” Fifth Master Zhang said, cupping his hands.

Ye Fan patted Fifth Master Zhang’s shoulder, signaling him not to worry, and sized up the bandits. “Old man, step aside!” one bandit stepped forward, eyeing Ye Fan, sensing the faint aura of Source on him.

“No Source, you say? This soft-skinned kid definitely has plenty!” Another bandit swung his whip heavily toward Ye Fan, cursing, “Lying to us?!”

Snap!

Ye Fan grabbed the whip and said to Fifth Master Zhang and the others, “Go wait for me ahead.” “Who do you think you are, some Source miner acting tough?” the bandit sneered, scanning the group. “None of you move, stay right there!”

Thud!

Ye Fan yanked the bandit off his Dragon Scale Horse but spared his life, as he had questions to ask. Fifth Master Zhang and the others seized the chance to ride away.

The lead bandit, accustomed to plundering, sensed trouble. Abandoning his mount, he soared into the sky to escape.

“Trying to run?” Ye Fan flicked his fingers, sending eight gusts of energy like hammers, knocking all eight bandits to the ground.

The leader, merely at the Life Spring Stage, was no match for Ye Fan. The bandits’ faces turned ashen, realizing they’d met their match. “Are you really bandits? You don’t even have half a pound of Source combined!” Ye Fan said, dissatisfied. “Tell me everything about the bandit groups nearby.”

A quarter-hour later, Ye Fan caught up with Fifth Master Zhang’s group, leading eight Dragon Scale Horses. “Will bringing these back cause trouble for your village?”

The young men eyed the horses eagerly, but Fifth Master Zhang shook his head. “Let them fend for themselves. Only bandits ride these beasts. They’d draw too much attention to our village.”

“Don’t the local sects do anything about these bandits?” Ye Fan asked.

“How can they? Bandits are like locusts, one group leaves, another arrives. There’s no controlling them.”

“Some sects even back bandits, plundering in secret.”

Ye Fan learned more about the Northern Region’s chaos and bloodshed, a paradise for crime.

“No wonder cultivators from other regions come here to take risks. It’s lawless, strength is all you need to rule a territory.”

Ye Fan realized this suited him perfectly; he no longer needed to worry about Source.

Before sunset, they covered the two hundred miles.

Ahead stood a village of stone houses, home to just a few dozen households, totaling about two hundred people.

As they approached, Ye Fan saw the villagers’ fierce demeanor. Men, women, young, and old all gripped sharp knives, only relaxing when they saw it was Fifth Master Zhang’s group. “Big Beard Chen came again. He gave us five more days. If we don’t deliver the Source, he’ll wipe out the village,” the villagers said, their faces heavy with worry.

“The other mining teams came back empty-handed too.”

“Years of over-mining have depleted the nearby areas. How can we find Source in time?”

Ye Fan settled in. The Northern Region’s stone houses were clean, and his was well-prepared. That evening, Fifth Master Zhang and the others warmly hosted him, slaughtering a sheep. Gathered around a fire, they roasted it to golden perfection, eating heartily and drinking deeply.

Northern Region’s men were rough, some with a bandit-like air, and drinking contests were common. Ye Fan enjoyed himself, relaxed after days of fleeing. During the meal, he asked Fifth Master Zhang about several locations, inquiring about their directions.

Fifth Master had someone fetch a cowhide map, pointing out places within a hundred-mile radius, bandit hideouts Ye Fan had learned of from the captured bandits.

Needing Source urgently to boost his strength, Ye Fan acted that very night, raiding three bandit hideouts in quick succession.

The results disappointed him. Each hideout had only a dozen men, and the three combined yielded just over two pounds of Source.

“Not enough. I need to take down a bigger bandit,” Ye Fan thought, longing for the Radiant Light Sacred Ground’s Source Mine, a true treasure trove compared to the barren lands outside.

The stone village lay in an oasis spanning a dozen miles. On the horizon stood a solitary mountain, thousands of meters high, devoid of soil or vegetation, a pure stone peak. In the morning, as sunlight spilled over, the massive mountain exuded a heavy, solemn aura.

As Ye Fan stepped out of his stone house, he saw Fifth Master Zhang bowing toward the mountain at dawn, piquing his curiosity.

Er Lengzi, the simple youth, explained, “Fifth Master’s first act every morning is to pay respects to that mountain.” Ye Fan’s interest grew; the mountain was likely extraordinary, hiding some secret. Just then, Fifth Master approached but offered no explanation, only inviting him to breakfast.

“Hey Lengzi, what’s so special about that mountain?” Ye Fan asked privately.

“No idea. Fifth Master forbids us from going near it, saying it’s a place of misfortune,” Er Lengzi shook his head.

After breakfast, Ye Fan moved swiftly, like a wisp of smoke, reaching the mountain in no time.

It was purplish-brown, as if carved from dull purple gold, heavy and imposing, rising four thousand meters. Steep and sheer, it was unclimbable for mortals.

Ye Fan was astonished to find countless weathered sword marks and blade scars on its surface, barely discernible without close inspection.

He tested the stone wall with a finger, finding it as hard as fine iron. This purple rock was extraordinary.

Ye Fan gasped. For such a durable mountain to be so weathered, with blade marks nearly erased, how ancient were these scars? Their age was unimaginable!

Soaring upward, he grew more shocked. The marks weren’t just at the base, sword holes and weapon scars covered the mountain up to its midpoint.

Beyond the halfway mark, the purple mountain rose sharply, like a giant sword thrust into the sky, its aura majestic.

Ye Fan noticed not only weapon marks but also palm prints and finger holes, nearly weathered away, faintly visible.

“These must predate the Desolate Era. On such hard purple stone, these marks couldn’t have faded so much otherwise.”

At the summit, Ye Fan gazed out, spotting nine faint ridges on the distant horizon.

“Nine ridges, barely visible, and this purple mountain seems at their center.” Unversed in terrain, Ye Fan found nothing special and focused on the purple mountain. The bald summit gleamed under the dawn, majestic but barren.

“Is there Source inside?” Ye Fan slashed at the peak with his golden book.

The purple mountain was incredibly hard, especially at the summit, but the golden book cut through, sparks flying and stones scattering. Soon, a large pit appeared.

Ye Fan frowned. There was no anomaly, this wasn’t the type of stone that encased Source. He returned to the village empty-handed.

The next day, he woke early and watched from afar. Sure enough, Fifth Master Zhang’s first act was to bow to the mountain.

At breakfast, Ye Fan couldn’t hold back. “Elder, is that mountain special? May I ask why do you bow to it daily?”

Fifth Master’s expression grew solemn, then he sighed. “That’s a place of misfortune. You must never go there. My ancestors said no one in the Northern Region can provoke it.”

“Provoke…?” Ye Fan was even more shocked. “What’s in that purple mountain?”

“I don’t know. I only know it’s a place of misfortune.”

Ye Fan got no answers. Wandering the village, he pulled Er Lengzi aside to ask more, but he knew nothing.

Wang Shu, the sharp youth, passed by. Grateful for Ye Fan’s help, he shared, “I know a little. Once, when Fifth Master was drunk, he wept, saying that place is tied to an ancient Grand Emperor.”

Ye Fan was stunned. Since antiquity, how many Grand Emperors had the Eastern Wilderness seen?

Only a handful, each ruling supreme, their achievements unmatched, their legendary Paragon Artifacts forged by their hands alone.

In that moment, Ye Fan’s blood surged, nearly shouting aloud. Connected to an ancient Grand Emperor? His mind raced with possibilities.

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