As Li Yan pondered further, his body suddenly jolted, and his expression turned grim.
'The underground secret grotto, the Hellsoul Clan... the Hellsoul Clan... they cultivate the way of the soul. Could something have happened to my soul there? Did something go wrong while I was tempering it, or was there a problem with that long corridor?'
At this thought, cold sweat beaded on his forehead. A terrifying idea that made his skin crawl surfaced in his mind.
Everything happening now might be because his soul was compromised, and thus his perception of everything he saw and heard was affected. He considered a reality that was utterly unacceptable to him.
Could it be that he was still in the underground secret grotto on the Verdant Continent? That the dozen or so years he spent tempering his soul with Zhao Min and Zi Kun, and even his return to the Desolate Moon Continent and all the experiences since, were all part of an illusionary realm?
Only that could explain how the dream from his past and a series of absurd events were now interconnected. Only that could provide a more rational explanation for the temporal discrepancies.
'Am I in a grand dream? Or an illusionary realm? How else could I explain the bizarre way I returned to the Desolate Moon Continent, and the sheer coincidence of appearing in the valley of the Strategist's Manor…'
A roar echoed in Li Yan's mind. He refused to believe he had been in such a long dream, where everything felt so real.
'Then where is my real body? And how long have I been in this illusion?'
Sweat poured down his forehead, and even the sensation of the cold sweat felt chillingly real.
"Wake… up… for… me!"
Li Yan shot to his feet, bit his tongue, and a sharp pain shot straight to his mind. But the scene before him remained unchanged. He was still standing in the room, the last rays of the setting sun still slanting in through the window.
A black light flashed in Li Yan's hand, and a Gui-Yi Water-Parting Spike appeared in his left palm. Without hesitation, he lifted it and plunged it into his right palm.
First, he felt a sharp pain in his hand, followed by a searing, mind-drilling agony in his Sea of Consciousness. The stab sent tremors through his very Divine Soul.
Li Yan let out a muffled grunt, his body swaying. He staggered a few steps, his face pale, before he managed to steady himself.
'This is wrong. This doesn't feel like an illusion at all!'
Li Yan watched as he withdrew the Gui-Yi Water-Parting Spike. A silver light flickered in his right palm as the wound rapidly healed. Even after the spike was removed, waves of excruciating pain continued to emanate from his Divine Soul. He felt he might have been mistaken.
"But… but… if this isn't an illusion, how can the matter with Cui Feng be explained?"
For a moment, Li Yan was lost, unsure if he was in an illusion or reality. He was trapped in an endless abyss of confusion…
Two days later, Li Yan arrived at the main hall of the Duke's Manor. Eight people were already gathered there. Five of them were Lin Yuxing and the others who had been standing beside Cui Feng on the training grounds a few days prior. Among the other three, one was the thin, dark-skinned man named Lian Pinghai, whom Li Yan had seen outside the manor. The remaining two, a middle-aged man and woman, must have entered the manor either before or after Li Yan's arrival.
The man had a large, purplish face with a black beard as stiff as steel needles, and a build as robust as a bear. The woman, though middle-aged, still possessed a charming air and must have been quite a beauty in her youth. She was buxom and supple, her skin as fair as if it were made of water, still exuding a mature allure. Judging by their stances and proximity, their relationship seemed to be an unusual one.
The group in the hall was chatting when they heard footsteps and turned to look at the entrance.
"Cough… cough… Young Hero Zhang has arrived. We still need to wait a little longer. The Duke will be here shortly."
As Li Yan emerged from the light and shadows of the entrance, Lin Yuxing, who had just lowered a silk handkerchief from his mouth, coughed twice and pointed to a chair opposite him. His tone was neither warm nor distant. When speaking to Li Yan and the others, he no longer addressed Cui Feng as "General" but as "Duke."
Over the past few days, Li Yan had tried numerous methods. He had even flown deep out into the sea but found that he could not break out of this "illusionary realm." Furthermore, all the feedback from his surroundings, the circulation of his own Spirit Power and Divine Sense, felt exceptionally real. This had gradually eased his mind. Now, whether he was in an illusion or not, since he had considered the possibility, he was confident he could find a solution. His only worry was that if he truly was in an illusion, the fact that his soul was still intact meant his physical body was not yet in danger. But if his body were to be harmed or destroyed, his Divine Soul would be in grave peril. However, that was only a fifty-fifty chance, and he was now starting to believe he might have been overly suspicious.
Li Yan felt there was a sixty percent chance that everything he had experienced over the years was real, and that Cui Feng was the true source of the strangeness.
Today was the first day after the recruitment of Courtyard Guard Instructors had concluded. Li Yan had been informed early in the morning that official duties for the Duke's Manor would begin today.
Green Mountain Pass was ten thousand li away from Yuhai City. While this distance was nothing to the current Li Yan, investigating matters, even as a cultivator, would still take time. Therefore, Li Yan planned to head there later, trying his best not to attract any attention.
As Lin Yuxing finished speaking, all eyes in the hall focused on Li Yan. The expressions of Lin Yuxing and his four companions were relatively normal. Over the past few days, they had curiously tried to probe the general's opinion of the young man. Cui Feng, knowing their discerning eyes, had told them that this Zhang Ming was the descendant of an old acquaintance from the martial world, and that his resemblance to his old friend was what had shocked him that day. After personally testing him, he found that the young man's martial arts were indeed from the same school as his old friend, which had put his mind at ease. As for Zhang Ming's "master," it was one of his uncles, a man whose martial arts had also reached the Transformation Realm but who would never emerge from seclusion. Zhang Ming, however, needed to gain experience in the martial world. Since that was the case, he would naturally take him in, especially since Zhang Ming had just reached the first-rate realm, making him a rare talent.
Hearing that Zhang Ming had truly reached the first-rate realm at such a young age, the other four, aside from Lin Yuxing, were astounded. They had heard from Lin Yuxing that the young man had not practiced any internal energy and possessed natural-born divine strength. Since his martial techniques had not been tested later, they had assumed he only had brute force without any skill. To a martial artist, that was no different from a wild bull—strong, but easily killed by many less powerful but more skilled individuals in the martial world.
Cui Feng's explanation revealed that Zhang Ming was a master of the external style, but his martial art was very peculiar. External style arts emphasized a solid foundation, which was difficult to conceal and easily discernible to experienced eyes like theirs. Yet Zhang Ming's footwork was clearly unsteady, making his cultivation method a mystery. If Zhang Ming's cultivation had truly reached the level of a first-rate master, then he was indeed a martial arts prodigy. Although reaching the Transformation Realm through the external cultivation of muscles, skin, and bones was extremely difficult, achieving the first-rate realm at such a young age was something even Song Duan, whose external skills in the "Ghost-Head Axe" were at the peak of perfection, hadn't accomplished back in his day. Song Duan had been forty-one when he reached the first-rate realm, an age when a martial artist's physical strength and understanding were at their peak.
Throughout history, while there had been external style masters who reached the Transformation Realm, they were as rare as a phoenix's feathers. Although their cultivation also involved breathing techniques, and at their peak, their muscles, bones, and internal organs would also generate and fill with internal power, converging with the path of internal arts, the "breathing" in external arts was fundamentally acquired postnatally. It was exceedingly difficult to reach the level of an innate art and open all the meridians in the body.
The ultimate goal for internal style masters was to step into the Innate realm and cultivate a sliver of Innate True Qi, which could not only extend their lifespan but also perfect their martial arts. Anyone who could cultivate a sliver of Innate True Qi could enter the revered Transformation Realm stage.
In reality, that sliver of Innate True Qi was, to a cultivator, the faintest wisp of Spirit Power. The ultimate goal pursued by these so-called martial arts grandmasters was merely a trace of Spirit Power that the weakest Qi Condensation stage cultivators could produce. Such martial arts grandmasters who could step into the Transformation Realm stage were inherently individuals with Spirit Root aptitude. It was just that no one had discovered it, or by the time a cultivator did, the best time for cultivation had long passed, forcing them onto a different path.
Li Yan clasped his hands in a salute to everyone and, as indicated by Lin Yuxing, sat down in a chair opposite them. The people sitting on his side were Lian Pinghai and the other two newcomers, clearly separated from Lin Yuxing's group of veterans. Coming in last, Li Yan took the seat at the very end, but he didn't mind in the slightest.
Lin Yuxing's group of five merely sized Li Yan up and down a few times without saying anything more. However, Lian Pinghai, sitting above Li Yan, was the first to speak after Li Yan sat down.
"I am Lian Pinghai. May I ask which sect Young Hero Zhang is from? Forgive my ignorance, but I have not heard of Young Hero Zhang's name before."
As he spoke, although he remained seated, he clasped his fists in a salute towards Li Yan. He had also noticed Li Yan's unsteady footwork and had just heard that the Duke was summoning four Courtyard Guard Instructors today. There were already three of them here, and since the "Three-Eyed Divine Fox" had addressed the newcomer as Young Hero Zhang, he was obviously the fourth. But no matter how Lian Pinghai looked at him, the young man seemed like a greenhorn who knew no martial arts. He had entered the Duke's Manor a step before Li Yan and thus hadn't seen him in action. The other two, who had been kept on after yesterday's test, also didn't know Li Yan.
"Oh, I've only learned some rudimentary fists and kicks. It's because my ancestors had some acquaintance with the Duke that I was allowed to stay here!" Li Yan said quickly.
His words left not only Lian Pinghai stunned, but even Lin Yuxing's group was taken aback.
'This kid seems introverted, yet he's so brazen. Is he afraid people won't know about his connection to the General?' Lin Yuxing was surprised, but a sense of displeasure had already begun to form. To him, Zhang Ming's words sounded like showing off.
At the same time, the others who had followed Cui Feng for decades shot him looks of ridicule or disdain. They knew their general well. He valued old friendships and camaraderie, but if you truly thought you could use his influence to cause trouble or act arrogantly outside, the final outcome would be a swift execution. Their general wasn't someone who hadn't killed his own direct relatives. In fact, when he did, it was even bloodier, forcing the other clan members to watch.
"Oh? Could it be that Young Hero Zhang's ancestors also served in the military? The number of meritorious officials who followed the general is quite large. Dare I ask if we might know your ancestor, young hero?" Song Duan, who had initially felt some goodwill towards Li Yan, couldn't help but ask, his tone already turning unfriendly.
Although Cui Feng had told them Zhang Ming was the descendant of an old friend from the martial world, the group still suspected his ancestors had served in the army. Their general valued the bonds of brotherhood-in-arms above all else; his sense of martial world righteousness had faded over long years of campaigning.
"Oh, this… The Duke has instructed me not to speak of it to outsiders. This…" Li Yan said with a troubled expression, seemingly oblivious to their glares.