The Demon Lord's Invasion

Chapter 18: Leaving the Sand Sea

Half a month after the great collapse in the Sand Sea, quite a few cultivators are still venturing deep into it once again. Driven by curiosity and the search for opportunities, they are willing to risk their lives—some in groups, others alone. In any case, it seems the Sand Sea will remain bustling for the next two or three months! But two or three months from now, the Sand Sea will be completely deserted! On her way back to Earth City, Jiang Tang was deep in thought when she suddenly heard gasps of astonishment coming from the crowd ahead. She couldn’t help but let out a wry smile and said, “That guy must have killed someone again. All right, I’ve got to catch up to him before he leaves. Until we meet again, if fate allows!” Jiang Tang looked over curiously. Beside Yuan Shangpiao’s retreating figure, she could see a crowd gathered ahead, marveling at the speed of a young man’s swordplay. Jiang Tang was well aware of Li Yishang’s prowess. Though his cultivation level wasn’t high, his spiritual realm was profound. Coupled with his path of “Killing Enlightenment,” such a person could no longer be judged by ordinary standards. “How exactly am I supposed to walk the path of my ‘Way of the Heart’?” Jiang Tang sighed inwardly as he made his way toward the crowd. He wasn’t there to watch Li Yishang’s battle results; rather, the general store was over there. Although he was deeply dissatisfied with the shopkeeper’s business practices, he couldn’t deny that the shop indeed carried many fine items—including numerous rare materials that were hard to come by elsewhere. The crowd ahead gradually parted, and before long, eight strikingly handsome and beautiful men and women in white robes appeared before Jiang Tang, standing out like cranes among chickens. Judging by their uniform attire and the ancient character for “Immortal” embroidered on their chests, everyone in this world knew they were disciples of the Immortal Traces Sect! “That Jianmen disciple is indeed powerful; his sword strikes were so fast even I couldn’t follow them.” “Strong? Hmph, they’re nothing but ants from the Sword Sect. Anyone who follows the Path of Killing and Enlightenment is a bunch of fools with such pitiful cultivation potential it’s painful to watch—you wouldn’t find even a handful among ten thousand who could reach the Spirit Martial Realm.” “That’s right. If we’re talking about strength, Senior Sister Yu Chang is the true powerhouse. Without even lifting a finger, she subdued the Earth Dragon—which had already grasped a divine ability—simply through her divine pressure. She’s only a year or two older than us, yet she possesses such power. I’m sure eliminating that Li Yishang would be a matter of the blink of an eye.” “Isn’t that stating the obvious? In my opinion, Senior Aunt Yu Chang won’t even have to lift a finger. Hahaha…” As the eight Xian Zong disciples chatted and laughed, they noticed Jiang Tang approaching. Instantly, they all looked at him with disgust and scattered to the sides—especially the two women, who seemed unwilling to let even the hem of their robes be tainted by this bare-chested, swarthy youth, moving as far away from him as possible. As the two groups passed each other, none of them noticed that the dark-skinned boy’s gaze had turned utterly icy. “Yu Chang!” That name left a profound impression on Jiang Tang—not only because “Yu Chang” and “Yu Chang” were homophones in this world, but also because the look of boundless longing and yearning on his mother’s face in this life as she handed him a scroll and uttered that name was deeply etched into the depths of his soul. From Qiong Sang’s words, Jiang Tang considered many possibilities—one of which involved this woman! How overwhelmingly powerful was Nikuang Mountain! Jiang Tang didn’t even know how many powerful figures there were, but he felt that among them, there must have been those capable of discerning the strength of his essence blood, bone marrow, and spiritual energy—yet they still sacrificed themselves. Why? “I did not kill Bo Ren, yet Bo Ren died because of me.” Was he, perhaps, the Bo Ren in this story? With a grim expression etched on his face, Jiang Tang made his way to the general store. Perhaps because of the shopkeeper’s stinginess, even in a bustling town like Tucheng, there were surprisingly few customers here. He glanced at the shopkeeper, who was still sitting at the doorway smoking his pipe. As always, the man was unkempt and filthy. Jiang Tang casually tossed a storage pouch his way. The shopkeeper caught it and let out a soft “Hmm?” He frowned as he sized up Jiang Tang, then resumed his usual expression and said indifferently, “Thirty-five crystal stones.” Jiang Tang frowned; the price was indeed far too low. But considering that materials from the Sand Sea monsters must have flooded the market recently—and since he couldn’t afford to wait—he could only nod and say, “Exchange it for an Immortal Pavilion disc.” “Fifty crystal stones,” the general store owner calmly quoted. “Wote?” Jiang Tang fell silent for a moment, then had no choice but to toss another storage pouch to the shopkeeper. “You have three crystal stones left,” the general store owner said, then tossed two storage pouches back to Jiang Tang. Jiang Tang swept his divine sense over the storage pouches, tucked them away, and turned to leave—he never wanted to see this man again. Leaving Earth City behind, Jiang Tang walked eastward without looking back. The Sand Sea was behind him; staying here was just a waste of time. After five days in the Gobi Desert and three days across the grasslands, a vast canyon came into view. However, the cultivators here did not call it a canyon; instead, they referred to it as a mountain. This was because the canyon stretched straight from east to west, cutting through countless mountain peaks for a distance of 1,300 li, splitting a pristine mountain range in two as if cleaved by a giant sword—hence its name, Jianxia Mountain. A gentle breeze blew in from the east, swept through the canyon, and caressed Jiang Tang’s face, slightly lifting the weariness from his expression. “Once you’re deep in the mountain range, there are fewer people.” On his journey eastward, Jiang Tang had encountered quite a few cultivators, so he dared not enter the Black Box. After searching for quite some time, Jiang Tang finally discovered a relatively secluded cave and walked straight inside. He wasn’t the least bit worried about demon beasts, as the ones in this area had died out thousands of years ago. Today, the mountain range was filled with human-built cities—as many as twenty-seven in total. After summoning Dongfang to seal the cave’s exit with a spiderweb, Jiang Tang pulled an ancient bronze artifact the size of a washbasin from his storage pouch. It was intricately engraved with a dense array of runes and formations, exceptionally exquisite. “What is this?” Dongfang asked curiously. “It’s actually an Immortal Pavilion Disk!” Qiong Sang answered him, drifting nearby like a wisp of smoke as he explained, “The Immortal Pavilion Disk is a teleportation array crafted by Xian Zong. However, it cannot be used by a physical body—only by a puppet. One must use the Split-Mind Technique to imprint a strand of one’s spirit onto the puppet, then teleport it to the Immortal Pavilion via the disk.” “In other words, it’s what’s commonly known as ‘going online,’” Jiang Tang said, turning to Dongfang. “The Immortal Pavilion is vast—the first floor alone spans a thousand li in all directions. There are countless shops inside, selling most kinds of materials, and you can also buy a lot of information there.” “I see. Well then, what are we waiting for? Let’s go take a look around.” Dongfang’s tone betrayed a hint of impatience. Jiang Tang, however, shook his head. “No rush. I need to craft a puppet body for myself first.” With that, Jiang Tang took out a pile of first-tier materials and began melting them with magical flames to craft his puppet. It must be said that Jiang Tang’s craftsmanship was exceptional; the skills he’d honed since childhood in making puppets would likely rank among the very best in this world. Moreover, the design of the puppet was exquisitely beautiful and ornate, already on par with those used in puppet theater. “Why are you embedding these golden beads in the hair around the ears?” Qiong Sang asked curiously. Upon hearing this, Jiang Tang’s face darkened, and he snapped, “These are relics.” “Bullshit about a relic. Do you really think I can’t tell this is a bead ground from Golden Cloud Wood?” Qiong Sang said dismissively. “Hmm, why go to such lengths to make the clothes so elaborate? It’s a waste of effort and time,” Dongfang added. “You guys…” Jiang Tang was at a loss for words. This was Bai Fashu, after all—even if it was a knockoff, it was already ninety percent identical. And one of Bai Fashu’s defining charms was those few golden, radiant relics in his temples. Clothing is a key element in bringing out the best in both a person and a puppet—so what’s wrong with making it look nice? I’m wasting my own time—what’s it to you? “Oh my, even the eyebrows are white—why didn’t you make the eyelashes white too? And what’s the point of that blood-red mark between the eyebrows?” Qiong Sang was even more baffled. Dongfang replied indifferently, “It’s completely meaningless, and it doesn’t match the real person at all. The real guy is as black as charcoal, with a head of curly hair, and his looks are barely passable. Yet this doll is incredibly handsome—clad in snow-white robes with long, straight white hair. Jiang Tang, don’t you think it’s a bit excessive to embellish your virtual identity like this?” “Lying is wrong, Xiao Jiang Zi. You need to know that a man’s charm lies in his strength—the stronger a man is, the more charming he is, not…” “Enough already?” Jiang Tang was genuinely annoyed; these two were bickering nonstop right next to him, driving him to the brink of a meltdown. Besides, how could “One Page Book” not be strong? Are you kidding me! But his approach just didn’t sit well with Dongfang and Qiong Sang—especially that Dongfang guy. He’d been waiting idly by for two days, eager to enter the Immortal Pavilion, yet here was Jiang Tang still gushing over that doll. How was he supposed to feel comfortable about that?