Chapter 307 - 304: Matrix

Chapter 307: Chapter 304: Matrix

Outside the inverted white jade pavilion, the crowd finally relaxed after hearing the young man’s explanation.

With their doubts dispelled, more Martial Artists landed on the white jade platform like falling rain.

In a short while, twenty to thirty people stood on the platform, which was several dozen meters wide.

Judging by their auras, six of them were at the Fourth Turn, while the rest were Third Turn cultivators unwilling to give up, hoping to gamble on an opportunity.

Fang Can crouched down, touching the white jade beneath his feet. It felt as indestructible as vajra.

"Bai Xiaosheng isn’t here?" the scruffy-faced man asked, his eyes scanning the crowd.

"He just broke through to the Fifth Turn. His mental Realm is unstable, so it’s perfectly normal for him to hide away and cultivate in seclusion for five or ten years. Why would he have the energy to bother with us?" the old man sneered.

As Fang Can was lost in thought, several Martial Artists nearby turned to look at him, their eyes glinting with malice.

"So it’s you, kid. Heh. You killed a whole bunch of Fourth Turns in one go, and now that the secret realm is open and all the Fourth Turns are gathering, you still dare to show up alone."

The old man sneered threateningly at the masked Fang Can. Seeing a man standing beside Liu Qingmeng at this moment, he was certain of his identity.

"Hmph. You know I killed all those Fourth Turns, yet you see me here and you’re not the one running."

As he spoke, Fang Can gently pressed down on Liu Qingmeng’s hand, stopping her from drawing her sword.

"For someone who can teleport, what’s the difference between being down below and being up here?"

Fang Can sneered at the old man. "Shouldn’t you Fourth Turns be the ones afraid of being killed by me? Are you really going to make me your enemy just to run your mouth?"

’You little bastard...’ The black-robed old man’s eyebrows shot up. He was about to fly into a rage but stopped himself with a cold snort. "I won’t lower myself to arguing with a junior."

Seeing the old man back down, Fang Can put the antimatter bomb he’d taken out back into storage. "Pay them no mind," he said. "The two of us can just go on ahead."

Fang Can had already learned from Liu Qingmeng what the goal of these Fourth Turn cultivators was. They were mainly after two things.

The lingering obsession of a Sixth Turn expert who had perished here, and a supreme treasure of unknown rank.

The Martial Dao is the cultivation of the mind. For one to reach the Sixth Turn, their thoughts and will must have already transcended the mortal plane.

Even in death, their obsession would linger around their remains, transforming into a pure sea of consciousness. For a Martial Artist, even a fragment of this obsession was enough to increase their power.

As for the other supreme treasure, it could be a Cultivation Technique, a Sacrificial Artifact, or even a single-use Spirit Medicine empowered by the light of the mind.

According to cryptic descriptions in ancient texts, this very treasure was what had left the Sixth Turn expert gravely injured and on the brink of death. Not long after, it was prophesied that they would perish inside this secret realm.

Now, ten thousand years have passed. The world has changed beyond recognition, and the nations of the martial world are no longer what they once were.

Experts above the Fifth Turn have vanished completely. The glories of the past are no longer pursued, leaving only a group of Third and Fourth Turn juniors to seek opportunities for a breakthrough here.

Ignoring the others on the platform, Fang Can took Liu Qingmeng’s hand and walked toward the White Jade Gate.

The entire White Jade Gate was covered in an invisible spatial membrane. No one knew where they would be teleported after passing through.

But Fang Can sensed no danger from the gate itself. The only concern was that if they didn’t enter at the exact same time, he might be separated from Liu Qingmeng.

Perhaps for that very reason, she didn’t struggle when he took her hand.

Watched by all the other Martial Artists, the pair passed through the spatial membrane and instantly vanished, leaving not a single sound or disturbance behind.

The black-robed old man stared at the membrane, then turned to a Third Turn cultivator beside him. "You, go scout it out. Get in, then come right back out."

The Third Turn cultivator’s expression soured under the Fourth Turn’s stare, but he still reluctantly agreed. He was the third to enter, and once again, a long silence followed with no sign of his return.

A fourth and a fifth followed. As more Third Turn cultivators went in to scout and none returned with any news, everyone began to wonder what lay within this space that seemingly only allowed entry, but no exit.

Sometimes, the unknown is the most terrifying thing of all.

’Screw it. I’ve come all this way; I can’t go back empty-handed.’ The scruffy-faced man snorted and strode in as well.

Meanwhile, after entering the gate, Fang Can and Liu Qingmeng were instantly teleported into a white jade space, ten meters square.

The moment they appeared, even Fang Can could feel that something was wrong with his body.

Perhaps because they were descending deeper into the earth, his full power had been suppressed to less than ten percent. The strength he could currently muster was likely only at the level of a Second Turn.

"Senior, how are you?" Fang Can asked, after first explaining his own condition.

"Less than one percent of my power remains. My Heart Image is restricted to a hundred-meter radius, and my regenerative abilities are weakened as well," Liu Qingmeng said, her expression grave.

The use of her legacy powers depended on her physical strength and her Heart Image, which meant her Charming Blue Film would be weakened to an unprecedented degree.

The further down they went, the stronger the suppression would likely become. It was possible they could even be suppressed to the level of an ordinary mortal.

Fang Can’s expression flickered, however. ’It seems the higher one’s Realm, the more severe the suppression in this place.’ The difference in suppression between their two Realms was already immense.

As his thoughts raced, the two of them took in their surroundings. They were in a ten-meter white jade cube, brightly lit by an unknown source. Each of the six faces—top, bottom, left, right, front, and back—held a spatial membrane tall enough for two people to pass through, and none could tell where they led.

’So this is the trial,’ he thought. ’Six doors, each leading somewhere else. And unlike the entrance, I can feel varying levels of danger behind all of them.’

He turned to the woman beside him. "Senior, do you trust me?"

"Why would you ask that now?" Liu Qingmeng said, slightly irritated. "If I didn’t trust you, why would I have invited you here?"

"Then let’s go this way..." Fang Can took Liu Qingmeng’s hand and walked toward the membrane on the left. "The danger from this door is the lowest."

Without a moment’s hesitation, they both charged through the left-hand membrane and vanished from the white jade space. Seconds later, the Third Turn cultivator who the black-robed old man had ordered to scout the path finally arrived. He stared at the six-faced room, rendered speechless.

Lacking Fang Can’s intuition, the Third Turn cultivator didn’t dare act rashly. Seeing no way out, he chose to wait patiently where he stood.

After some time, more Martial Artists began to file into the room. One of them scanned the space and asked in confusion, "Where are Liu Qingmeng and that kid?"

"They must have already picked a passage and gone through," the black-robed old man said coldly. "Now, who wants to scout ahead?" He casually pointed at a Third Turn cultivator in a purple robe. "You. Go into the portal on the right."

The Third Turn cultivator started to refuse, but in the next instant, he was enveloped by an overwhelming killing intent. He knew that if he dared to utter a single word of defiance, he would be killed on the spot.

Under the old man’s pressure, and to the relieved gazes of the other Third Turn cultivators, the purple-robed man’s body was enveloped by the portal and vanished.

He reappeared in another pure white room, identical in size and style to the last.

The only difference was a life-sized wooden puppet standing in the corner.