Chapter 167: We… we survived?

Chapter 167: We... We Survived?

On Saturday night, Duan Zhitong went to bed early.

Concerned she might be too anxious to sleep, the officials even went out of their way to get her melatonin.

Duan Zhitong usually didn’t sleep well—a chronic dreamer like her was never going to sleep soundly anyway.

Only after taking up martial arts and Immortal Cultivation could she sleep through the night.

So even if the officials hadn’t provided the medication, she had prepared a more potent kind herself. Before bed, she deliberately drank warm milk and played white noise in the background.

If sleep still eluded her, she’d pop the pills!

That was what Duan Zhitong thought, but soon everyone realized none of those preparations were necessary.

Duan Zhitong proved oddly unshakable.

The moment she lay down, in less than two minutes, her breathing evened out.

Clearly, she was fast asleep.

Afraid the monster might notice anything unusual, no one risked using supernatural abilities. They only set up surveillance in Duan Zhitong’s room.

Through the monitors, everyone could clearly observe her condition.

One hour passed, then two. The white noise meant to aid sleep had long since stopped after its timed duration, leaving the bedroom dead silent—pindrop quiet.

“It’s here!” Suddenly, a technician signaled.

Everyone looked over and saw that the girl, who’d been sleeping deeply moments ago, had changed.

Her face twisted in defiance, her breathing rapid and disordered—clearly trapped in a nightmare.

She tossed and turned. A stranger would’ve sworn she was awake.

But everyone knew she wasn’t.

Suddenly, she jolted upright, soaked in sweat, her hair clinging to her face and neck.

Though she didn’t look particularly well, she showed neither nightmare-induced terror nor sleep haze.

Her eyes burned with an eerie intensity.

The moment they saw those eyes, they all knew—it worked!

“Are You still here?” Duan Zhitong’s face lit up with zeal.

“I’m not dreaming, am I?” When no response came, she wasn’t fazed. Instead, she deliberately raised her voice a little, muttering under her breath.

Then, as if confirming, she scanned the room. “You’ve truly descended, haven’t You?”

Duan Zhitong’s room remained silent. But outside her window, a hulking silhouette blotted out the moonlight.

The room plunged into shadow, and Duan Zhitong whipped around.

When she saw that grotesque, familiar form, her whole body sagged in relief.

She didn't even care about her flimsy attire, rushing straight to the glass with utter exhilaration: "I knew it wasn't a dream! Someone as ordinary and mediocre as me could never imagine such an awe-inspiring being existing in this world unless I saw it with my own eyes."

"Your stature is so majestic, your wings so powerful, your gaze so resolute yet compassionate, your aura so profound, and your presence so towering..." Duan Zhitong immediately barraged it with flattery.

"Despite possessing supreme power, you willingly bestow divine grace upon puny creatures like us, no bigger than ants."

"As the Priest you've chosen, I will move heaven and earth to make not just more people, but everyone on Azure Star, believe in you, worship you, and follow you!"

"To become your obedient flock."

Duan Zhitong frantically buttered up the monster, but the creature merely snorted impatiently.

Screw this, if you don’t want to listen, I don’t want to talk either.

If not for fear of blowing my disguise, would I have spent three whole days taking acting classes?!

And that’s only because Saturday was just three days away—otherwise, my suffering would’ve lasted even longer.

Hell if I know how I survived those three days.

I didn’t even have time for cultivation during that period!

Gritting her teeth, Duan Zhitong knew full well that as an amateur, she was no match for the professional Priests of ancient times who made a living out of flattering deities.

This monster had probably heard—and grown sick of—far more sickeningly sweet praises.

Fortunately, her efforts weren’t in vain. Though the monster was impatient, her performance at least convinced it of her ‘devotion.’

After all, past Priests who met it had acted the same way, if not more exaggeratedly.

"My apologies for keeping you waiting due to my excitement," Duan Zhitong, equally eager to end the charade, quickly got to the point. "Let me take you to spread your divine grace now."

"There are many people there—you’ll surely be pleased."

The monster, satisfied, even deigned to let Duan Zhitong grip its toe as it carried her to the designated spot.

While giving directions, Duan Zhitong couldn’t help worrying that the monster might spot a lively district mid-flight and change its mind.

Thankfully, the authorities had covered their bases.

Not just in Yunteng City, but neighboring cities too.

In fact, the entire Azure Star was eerily quiet outdoors that night.

Nearly everyone stayed home.

Because that evening, the authorities had specially arranged a livestreamed Immortal Cultivation Q&A session.

Master cultivators would explain common cultivation challenges and even select attendees for personal mentorship.

Too good to pass up.

Thus, people for once stayed put, preparing for the session. Some even holed up in separate rooms to prevent distractions.

So while population centers were packed, especially in housing complexes, the streets were dead.

But compared to crowded streets or places like concerts, where a tiny spot could pack in tens of thousands, this setup was way safer.

At least everyone was scattered inside houses. And with buildings blocking line of sight, even if the monster knew there were people inside, they weren’t out in the open.

It’s like the difference between food placed right in front of you and food stored in a cabinet.

Both are food, but people would instinctively grab what’s outside first.

There were indeed many people in the city, but this way, it wasn’t as conspicuous.

The monster wasn’t entirely uninterested, but compared to these relatively scattered individuals, it was more focused on the place Duan Zhitong had led it to.

It could sense that in that direction, there truly was a massive crowd gathered together.

Going there would allow it to get the biggest haul of faith at once.

So the monster restrained itself, planning to secure the faith there first before spreading out from there.

Duan Zhitong had technically led it to a nearby military training base.

The base always had troops stationed there—there really were a lot of people.

She hadn’t lied.

Upon reaching the destination, the monster saw the massive crowd with its own eyes. Satisfied, it folded its wings and landed on the training ground.

The moment the monster touched down, Duan Zhitong let go and got her footing before walking toward the crowd.

Just as the monster thought Duan Zhitong was about to preach to the others, she suddenly pulled a 180. Many others on the scene also moved in sync with her.

Their goal was clear—they went straight for the wings.

They couldn’t risk letting it take flight!

Ordinary people who hadn’t reached the Foundation Establishment stage couldn’t fly.

Though they could still use qinggong for aerial moves, qinggong required something to push off from—it wasn’t like having wings, where one could fly freely at will.

Among them, there were a few demons and half-demons with wings who could fly, but they were the minority.

So the priority was to clip the monster’s wings.

Otherwise, they'd be screwed.

At first, some held back their strikes.

Especially since the monster hadn’t made a hostile move yet. Even though they knew it was the enemy, that it had killed countless people, and that it was here to feed—

Not to mention its hideous appearance.

Logically, there was no call for mercy.

But when they struck, they still flinched.

Their attacks, originally aimed at vital spots, unconsciously pulled their punches.

These people had never even killed chickens or ducks before. When buying fish, they’d ask the vendor to clean it for them—sometimes even to portion it out.

It was only after beginning their training that they started buying live poultry and fish to handle themselves, just to toughen themselves up.

No shortage of chaos was caused during the slaughtering.

They would cut off the heads of chickens and ducks, only to find them still alive, dashing around the kitchen in circles, leaving blood splattered everywhere.

To the uninformed, it looked like a crime scene.

When it came to fish, they’d raise their knives, but the slippery creatures would wriggle away, leaving the cutting board empty while flailing on the floor—this was all too common.

There were even instances where, after slicing open the belly of a fish, it would leap up and slap them in the face with its tail, showering them in blood.

It was as embarrassing as it gets.

This was how it went with live poultry and fish. How much more challenging would it be with such monsters?

Even those who had gone through the initial fiasco, bravely continued to practice, buying more ingredients to hone their skills at home.

They felt their hearts grow as cold as the fish-killing knives in their hands.

In reality, when faced with the ingredients, they could perhaps achieve a swift and steady hand, without a flicker of emotion.

Gone were the days of panic and clumsiness.

But when confronted with the monsters, many still wavered.

Some realized that these monsters were not like domestic animals, and found themselves unable to bring down the knife.

Others were completely overwhelmed by the monsters’ presence, their courage faltering, fear taking root, and hesitating to strike.

Fortunately, there were quite a few who performed exceptionally well.

Most of these people had gained experience in Infinite Flow Instances.

"I've even seen ghosts and dared to kill them, what is this thing compared to them?" There were no shortage of ghost scenarios in Infinite Flow. Those ghosts mostly still looked somewhat human and were masters at creating atmosphere.

If he could bring himself to kill those, how much easier it was to deal with this thing that didn’t even have a human form.

But courage alone wasn’t enough to defeat the enemy.

The monster wasn’t smart, but after being attacked, it quickly realized something was wrong.

"Roar!" The monster let out a thunderous roar, its wings twitching from the pain of the attack. But before anyone could celebrate, it had already snapped its wings open. Though it couldn’t take flight, it lashed out with them at the surrounding people.

The monster’s wings weren’t feathery like a bird’s.

Nor were they membranous like a bat’s.

Instead, they were covered in tiny, razor-sharp scales, like a sheet of razor blades.

A hit from those wings was no different from being smashed by one with full force!

And they were all still flesh and blood!

Everyone immediately called upon their qinggong, surged with spiritual power, and pushed their agility to the limit, using every possible method to dodge.

But those two massive wings were heavy and thick, whipping through the air with terrifying speed and force—many still couldn’t evade in time.

"This is it... this is it..." someone thought in despair.

"I'm still young, I don't want to die!" Some only now realized they still wanted to live.

Others were filled with sheer unwillingness.

"Fuck, this is such a lame way to die!"

"I died just from locking eyes with it—I didn’t even get to attack it!"

"Others died in battle, but I died in shame! I can accept death, but not like this—not so humiliating."

"One move—I couldn’t even last one move!" Someone stared wide-eyed at the monster, still in disbelief. "I'm really this fucking useless?!"

"Why the hell did I hesitate? Now it cost me my damn life."

"The warriors warned us—stay firm, don’t waver, don’t hold back. I'd made up my mind, but when it came down to it, I still faltered!"

"I fucking let this monster scare me. When everyone charged, I froze for just enough to miss my chance—hardly keeping up."

"No fucking hesitation allowed in battle!"

"And here I am—everyone else at least got to attack. Couldn't even do that much. And now I’ve thrown my life away for nothing!"

"Others attack and run if they miss. But I froze—not only didn’t attack, but when the monster struck, I failed to dodge. I basically served myself up on a platter."

"So stupid I died from my own dumbassery!"

"If I'd known death would come this easy, I should've aimed for its eyes instead of its wings. At least blinding it would've made my death count."

...

The place went completely nuts. Some screamed, others screamed inside. Some were scared shitless, though their minds raced with visions of their own demise.

Those who escaped were no better off—just barely made it out alive, too focused on survival to help others. Many only lived by enduring severe injuries.

Amid the panic, a quiet sigh sliced through the chaos.

Then—a flash of sword light.

A flying sword streaked into the crowd, deflecting and batting people aside with perfect precision. Those struck were flung clear of the training grounds, out of the monster’s reach.

We're... alive?

The rescued sprawled on the ground, propping themselves up to stare at the fight.

They saw it then—the sword that had saved them.

Now it darted through the crowd with incredible skill. A blade so sharp, yet not a single person was nicked as it weaved between them.

With deft flips and turns, it yanked everyone from death's door. In one final move, it pierced through the collars of seven or eight people, dragging them out in a chain like beads on a string.

Not one was hurt. Dazed, they touched their unmarked necks, struggling to process what had happened.

Their eyes remained glued to the sword as it completed its mission—then shot off toward an unseen master.

All eyes followed.

A slender hand caught the sword, its owner giving it a casual twirl before setting it aside.

That's when everyone noticed a figure sitting on the eaves of the building behind the training ground.

They wore the familiar Lion Dance mask.

Who on Tianlan didn't recognize who that mask represented?

Though knockoff masks were selling like crazy.

But truth be told—the original was still the original. Was the Lion Dance mask really about the mask itself?

No, it was the person wearing it.

The same mask simply didn’t carry the same aura on anyone else.

"No wonder someone could run through us like kabobs!" said one fighter, fingering the hole in his collar.

"Snap out of it! Have you forgotten where you are right now?" The observing warriors at the edge of the training ground were ready to strangle them.

An instructor bellowed.

Only then did they come to their senses, realizing they were still on the battlefield, and hastily grabbed their weapons to charge at the monster again.

This time, though, they fought with more confidence.

Less panic.

No holding back.

They’d known death was possible before coming here—had even written their last letters and mentally prepared for the worst.

But who wouldn’t want to live if they could?!

The will to live was human nature.

Wasn't the whole idea of writing a will to tear it up after making it back alive?!

With Sheng Qingquan present, everyone fought like demons.

Some even disregarded their own injuries, taking hits just to land blows.

The wounded were quickly dragged to safety by nearby warriors for treatment.

Bandaged up, they'd come roaring back into the fight.

They understood better than anyone what a golden opportunity this was.

Especially with such a powerful guardian having their backs.

It meant they could go all out.

Command had set this up perfectly. These were adults, not kids playing soldier—they knew to make every second count.

When the steel met steel, there was no time for second thoughts!

Everyone pushed themselves harder.

They thought they were doing much better after regrouping, having corrected many of their previous mistakes.

But in the eyes of the surrounding soldiers, it was still painful to watch.

They were greener than fresh recruits.

The soldiers were so anxious they wished they could step in themselves. Unfortunately, such a shot was unlikely to come their way today.

The instructor’s expression darkened the more he watched.

All the words spoken and preparations made before the battle might as well have been for nothing.

None of them could recall when it mattered.

"Teamwork! Work together!"

"The people standing beside you are your comrades, not enemies. Why go solo?"

"Some even ended up taking friendly fire."

"Getting killed by your own allies instead of the monsters—how’s that fair?"

"Get it together, got it?"

"Coordinate!"

"Compared to the monsters, your advantage is numbers. Use the strength of numbers—stop fighting each other!"

The instructor yelled himself raw, his voice so loud the monster couldn’t help but snarl a blast in his direction.

Sheng Qingquan didn’t draw his sword. Instead, a sigil flared to life in front of the instructor.

The eight ancient seal-script characters—"Mandated by Heaven, Longevity and Eternal Prosperity"—blazed like a beacon in the night.

The Imperial Seal's sigil had the instructor’s back.

The monster’s breath didn’t even scratch him.

"Christ, this thing reeks!" The instructor nearly gagged from the stench.

The sigil blocked the attack but not the stench.

After all, stench won’t kill you. And since he wasn’t its rightful owner, the sigil naturally conserved its power.

The instructor stared at the ground still smoking nearby, shuddering at the thought of what would’ve happened without the sigil.

Even with his head pounding from the stench, the golden sigil still looked worth every damn glimmer to him.

That warm, golden glow—like a safety blanket.

Originally, the training field had floodlights.

For drills and live combat, the entire area was floodlit like a stadium.

But the floodlights couldn’t take a hit.

As soon as the battle began, the lights got smashed or fried left and right.

They could only fight by moonlight.

Fortunately, they were all Immortal Cultivators and could see just fine in the dark, so it wasn’t much of a handicap.

Same for the monsters—they weren’t affected either.

Under the night sky, only the jade seals glowed one after another like small suns.

Sheng Qingquan ignored minor wounds.

But for severe wounds that the healing devices couldn’t treat quickly, he wouldn’t just stand there.

This wasn’t coddling.

Rather, since such a rare opportunity for practice was hard to come by, Sheng Qingquan felt it would be a shame if they had to withdraw after barely getting started because of bad injuries.

Seeing it through to the end was what counted.

If they themselves wanted to quit, fine. But as long as they didn’t want to give up,

Sheng Qingquan would ensure they had the conditions to keep fighting.

Thus, during the battle, many who thought they were about to suffer heavy injuries would spot a jade seal swooping in, branding them with its mark just before the enemy’s attack landed.

However, unlike the Instructor’s long-lasting seal, these marks came in different strengths.

Each seal’s mark was only tough enough to take one hit, no more, no less.

After protecting them once, it wouldn’t save them from the next wound.

This made it impossible for many to recklessly abandon defense and focus solely on offense.

Though a few hardcases still chose to trade injury for injury.

But everyone could feel pain.

They weren’t masochists—once the pain became unbearable, they’d start trying not to get hit so much.

Moreover, with the Instructor calling out pointers, the group gradually began to cooperate with each other.

Occasionally, the sword would come buzzing back, but no longer to rescue anyone.

It still tapped people lightly from time to time, but now it tapped differently—not strong enough to send them flying, but never too soft to feel.

Duan Zhitong had noticed the sword’s movements early on, though she couldn’t figure what it was up to at first.

Then, the sword suddenly tapped her left arm, making her sway right without thinking.

Only then did Duan Zhitong realize—what she’d figured was a sure hit turned out not only avoidable but surprisingly easy. Didn’t even need qi—just body mechanics did the trick.

The martial arts she’d practiced before, even without taking the martial dao, weren’t useless after all.

They paid off when it mattered.

Duan Zhitong wasn’t the only one who noticed this.

Someone else, about to leap into the air, got nudged back down by the flying sword.

Only then did he realize that he didn't need to use lightness skill (qinggong) to leap up or rely on *qi* (spiritual energy) to propel himself.

Just crouching like earlier was enough to dodge it effortlessly.

Sure, crouching looked clumsy and ugly, but what did that matter?

But it worked!

Simple and effective—that’s what counted.

Mid-swing, another fighter felt the flying sword gently lift his hand.

At first, he was puzzled, but after observing, he noticed that raising his arm just slightly boosted his strike’s force by a full 30% compared to his previous swings.

Thirty percent? Huge!

Before, he could barely scratch the monster’s hide.

But now, staring at the thin but clear cut on the monster’s thick thigh, he was pumped.

Even if it was almost invisible unless you squinted, it meant he could finally deal meaningful damage.

"Thanks for the tip, Senior!" The man joyfully bowed toward Sheng Qingquan’s direction.

"Eyes forward!" Sheng Qingquan gave a slight nod in reminder.

"Yes!" He shook himself alert, recalling the sensation and mimicking it as he thrust his sword again.

This thrust fell short of the last one’s power, but it still left a faint mark on the monster.

Another strike, then another—with each repetition, he steadily improved until he perfectly replicated that earlier strike.

The flying sword then zipped to the next fighter...

Victory gradually tilted in Tianlanxing’s favor.

"Rough start, but undeniably, they’re all promising talents."

"Diamonds in the rough!"