Chapter Eighteen: Fierce Vitality

As the gate to the secret realm opened, some hesitated, not wanting to be the first to enter, unsure if hidden dangers lurked within. Yet others, impatient and eager, rushed straight through the crack in the energy gate without a second thought. The rest followed in a steady stream.

Song Yue and a group of students from the Academy of Cultivation found themselves in the middle ranks. As they stepped inside, they were all struck by the scene before them.

They entered onto what appeared to be an ancient altar, but the scale of the altar was immense—several thousand square meters at least. It was set atop a towering mountain, and from afar, the surrounding ranges emanated a majestic aura.

An unimaginable flood of spiritual energy surged toward them, far surpassing anything found outside. Every cultivator was instantly exhilarated.

“Damn! This is what a true sacred cultivation ground should be!”

“I never knew cultivation could be this easy until I came here.”

“The spiritual energy here is so dense—I just want to stay and cultivate forever!”

People exclaimed in awe.

Though Song Yue could not gather spiritual energy, he could still sense the vast difference compared to the outside world.

Already, some who had entered first had left the altar, shouting excitedly—

“My God, is this Heavenly Leaf Grass? How can it grow so tall here? It’s like wild grass—growing in huge swathes! We’ve struck gold!”

Heavenly Leaf Grass was an essential ingredient for refining Qi-nourishing Foundation Pills, sold at exorbitant prices outside. In the finest medicinal gardens, it rarely grew taller than a foot, but here it reached two meters!

“I’ve found a Nine-leaf Purple Ginseng! At least a hundred years old! Something this precious—why didn’t anyone dig it up last time the secret realm opened?”

A youth who had discovered this rare Qi-nourishing herb cried out in astonishment.

Someone nearby replied, “Every time the gate opens, the entry location changes. The Kunlun Secret Realm is enormous! We only have half a month. Normally, people searching for treasures never stray too far from the altar.”

“That’s right, don’t let greed cloud your judgment. If you don’t want to become a secret realm dweller, remember not to venture too far from the altar.”

Soon, more began to discover rare herbs prized outside, and the clever ones quietly started gathering and digging them up.

Qian Qianxue glanced at Song Yue and asked softly, “Which way should we go?”

Song Yue stood still, studying the terrain, then nodded toward a range of mountains to the west. “That way.”

Qian Qianxue and the others estimated the distance—probably twenty or thirty miles, not far, and they could return to the altar at any time.

Most agreed, but some were reluctant to go so far, fearing unknown dangers.

Song Yue did not press them; staying near the altar was indeed safer.

He led Qian Qianxue and about thirty others toward the western mountains.

Meng Xudong approached from another direction, smiling at Song Yue. “I’ll go with you.”

Qian Qianxue frowned slightly, puzzled at Meng Xudong’s apparent familiarity with Song Yue. If not for him, Song Yue wouldn’t have become entangled with Zhang Zixing and his group, nor would he have suffered injuries. She didn’t like Meng Xudong.

The other academy students also frowned, sharing her sentiment.

Meng Xudong paid no mind, sticking close to Song Yue.

Song Yue glanced at him. “Little Meng, aren’t you afraid of getting involved?”

Meng Xudong looked toward where Zhang Zixing’s group was. “This all started because of me. If he insists on revenge, I can’t just stand by.”

Qian Qianxue and the others were surprised; Meng Xudong bore no grudge against Song Yue, and seemed even to be on his side.

“Let’s go,” Song Yue said, locking eyes with the small blond in Zhang Zixing’s group, who offered a cold smile before turning away.

Song Yue’s group pressed westward toward the mountains, as some brave souls scattered toward their chosen targets.

Mixed among them were members of powerful factions and officials, all heading for predetermined locations, unconcerned with Heavenly Leaf Grass or such things.

The Kunlun Secret Realm had opened many times; the top cultivation powers and officials already knew the locations of special areas where higher-level resources could be found.

Meng Xudong whispered to Song Yue, “Before I came, my grandfather gave me a map. He said if we happen to enter that area, we should go there. I just looked—we’re actually in that region!”

Song Yue shook his head. “Go if you wish, but I won’t.”

Though Meng Xudong had shown goodwill several times, kindness always had its limits. If the map truly led to supreme materials, Meng Xudong would never share it lightly.

Meng Xudong smiled wryly. “I can’t go alone—there’s a dangerous beast there…”

“How dangerous?” Song Yue asked.

Meng Xudong fell silent, deciding to stick with Song Yue’s group for now; it was safer.

Even if Zhang Zixing’s group wanted revenge, they wouldn’t dare attack Song Yue openly. Though the law of the jungle ruled inside, everyone had to leave eventually. Murder in plain view would be reckoned with outside.

Just then, a blood-curdling scream erupted from the nearby dense forest—soaked in terror, then abruptly cut off.

The scream was like a bucket of cold water poured over the overexcited crowd. Everyone froze.

What had happened? No one knew.

Moments later, seven or eight people charged out from the direction of the scream, panic etched on their faces.

Someone shouted as he ran, “Secret realm dwellers are attacking—”

He didn’t finish. An arrow shot from the forest, piercing the back of his head, then continued on, landing far ahead.

The others were likewise struck down by arrows, dying where they fell.

Only one escaped, fleeing toward the altar in terror, sobbing, “I won’t do this anymore! I want to leave!”

But the energy gate at the altar had already closed! It wouldn’t open again for half a month—and then not for sixty years.

The gate to the Kunlun Secret Realm opened twice every sixty years, with a fifteen-day interval.

Many faces turned pale, staring toward the forest—how terrifying! For those raised in peace, such scenes were unimaginable.

No negotiation, no warning—just cold-blooded killing. Cruel, merciless.

Everyone stopped what they were doing, gazing numbly at the forest where the arrows had flown.

Then a voice as cold as ice came from that direction—

“Get out!”

“If you don’t want to die, return to the altar, and leave when the time comes in fifteen days!”

“Disobedience will be punished by death.”

It was spoken in Mandarin, everyone understood. Standard official speech, yet devoid of warmth or emotion, laced with murderous intent.

Qian Qianxue’s face turned pale; for a moment she nearly forgot she was a high-level cultivator.

The others reacted similarly, shocked at the sight of exuberant companions dying before their eyes.

Someone whispered to Song Yue, “Should we… still go?”

Just then, another cold arrow shot from the forest, aimed at someone in Song Yue’s group.

In that moment of crisis, Song Yue and Meng Xudong cried out in unison.

Song Yue swung his alloy spear, still in cylinder form, smashing toward the arrow.

Meng Xudong tackled the target to the ground.

Clang!

A sharp metallic ring as Song Yue knocked the arrow aside.

The academy students stared in shock.

A martial artist—so fierce?

No wonder Dean Peng had been willing to pay for Marrow-washing elixir just to bring Song Yue in as their protector.

As Song Yue repelled the arrow, he sensed the attacker’s strength wasn’t particularly great—not as strong as his own.

He pressed the trigger, transforming the metal cylinder into a long alloy spear, and charged straight toward the source.

If possible, he would rather not do this, but the enemy was too savage. Without a word, they shot arrows at them as if they were prey, showing no sympathy.

If one couldn’t face the secret realm dwellers directly, why enter at all?

After all, they had been warned—the secret realm was not safe.

Passive waiting had never been Song Yue’s style.

He had expected to deal with Zhang Zixing’s group first, but the secret realm dwellers were already lying in wait.

The realm belonged to no one.

Song Yue charged forward, and four or five arrows whistled toward him, shrieking through the air.

He swung his alloy spear, knocking aside several arrows; two grazed his cheek.

In a blink, Song Yue was nearly upon the dense forest.

Inside, the archers were starting to panic.