Chapter Thirty-Three: The Three Great Malevolent Beings

Upon hearing Wang Fan's agreement, excitement flashed across Zhao Fan's face. In Zhao Fan’s eyes, Wang Fan was a top-tier expert—having such a master as his ally meant his chances of seizing fortune within the Hall of Opportunity would increase significantly.

After the initial excitement, Zhao Fan quickly regained his composure; after all, he too was a scion of a powerful family.

“Since we’re to work together, let’s exchange information. I’m now a cultivator, and the inheritance I’ve received is from Changshan Zhao Zilong—a general famed as the Dragon Courage Tiger Warrior! My cultivation is currently at the early stage of the Sea of Bitterness realm,” Zhao Fan introduced himself, pressing his hand to his chest.

“Wang Fan. As for my inheritance, you’ll learn about it in time,” Wang Fan replied, his self-introduction far more reserved than Zhao Fan’s. He only offered his name, withholding everything else.

Zhao Fan was somewhat speechless at Wang Fan’s aloofness, but he said nothing more, simply waiting for time to pass and for the Hall of Opportunity to open.

Time flew by swiftly, as if passing in the blink of an eye. Half a day went by, and by then, over a hundred people had gathered atop the mountain. The majority were civilian cultivators—at least fifty or sixty. The rest comprised military personnel, armed police, and various young heirs from Z City.

As dusk deepened, the western sun had completely set. With the last rays gone, the doors of the Hall of Opportunity swung open on their own. The ancient portal, now fully revealed, exuded an even deeper sense of antiquity.

At that moment, the armed police and special forces surged forward, while the civilian cultivators rushed in as well, all eager to seize fortune ahead of the others.

“Brother Wang Fan, let’s go!” Zhao Fan exclaimed, raising a massive spear beside him.

The spear Zhao Fan wielded weighed several hundred pounds. Its shaft was crafted from a special wood, and its head forged from a unique alloy. The weapon itself cost hundreds of thousands to manufacture—something only a wealthy heir could afford.

With the spear in hand, Zhao Fan looked imposing, like a reincarnation of the ancient warrior Zhao Yun, invincible and unstoppable.

“Mm,” Wang Fan nodded slightly. As he rose, the aura emanating from him grew even more terrifying. If Zhao Yun’s presence was that of a battlefield general, Wang Fan’s was like a war god—overwhelming, divine, and awe-inspiring.

Zhao Fan, Wang Fan, and several bodyguards behind Zhao Fan moved as one, heading toward the Hall of Opportunity.

Yet, as they stepped into the hall, they were confronted by a shocking truth: inside was not only fortune, but endless peril.

The moment Zhao Fan and Wang Fan entered, it was as if they had crossed into another realm, suddenly finding themselves in an ancient world filled with towering trees, each over a hundred meters tall. Amidst these colossal trunks, countless ferocious beasts surrounded them.

No—these creatures encircled not just Zhao Fan and Wang Fan, but everyone who had entered the hall.

There were seven or eight beasts resembling both tigers and leopards, each marked with numerous stripes. Their bodies were four or five meters long, several times larger than ordinary tigers or leopards. Their claws were likewise immense, hinting at terrifying strength.

A pack of hunting dogs joined them—yet unlike Earth’s hounds, each was nearly a meter tall, their forms robust and threatening.

There were also dozens of snakes, each as thick as a human arm, their scales shimmering in all the colors of the rainbow. These venomous serpents exuded an ominous aura; a single bite would likely kill a man within seconds.

These three types of beasts formed a triangular formation, hemming in the hundred or more entrants. None dared to make a rash move.

By Wang Fan’s side, Zhao Fan’s forehead was slick with sweat—he had never witnessed such a scene before.

And it wasn’t just Zhao Fan; nearly everyone surrounded by the beasts was sweating in fear, even the veterans and armed police.

Only the dozen or so members of the 113th Special Forces showed no sign of fear. Each held a semi-automatic rifle, with extra magazines in their backpacks, confident they could repel the beasts.

Apart from those well-trained soldiers, there was another who displayed no fear nor cold sweat: Wang Fan himself.

Wang Fan felt no dread—on the contrary, he saw these beasts as a chance to temper himself.

How can one see the rainbow without enduring hardship? How can one witness the beauty of flowers without braving the thorns?

Battle intent surged in Wang Fan’s heart. His eyes gleamed sharply, and the boundless energy within his Sea of Bitterness circulated rapidly throughout his body, flowing ceaselessly like the rivers of the Yangtze and Yellow River.

As it reached its peak, strange sounds echoed from within him, like the roar of ocean waves. Zhao Fan, hearing this, turned instinctively to look at Wang Fan, his expression twitching.

Zhao Fan’s gaze toward Wang Fan shifted; in his eyes, Wang Fan now seemed utterly abnormal.

Everyone else was terrified by the encircling beasts, but only Wang Fan showed no fear—making Zhao Fan feel as if Wang Fan was something entirely unnatural.

Zhao Fan took a deep breath and said to Wang Fan, “Brother Wang Fan, don’t be reckless. Don’t rush out and become cannon fodder. If you do, those beasts will swarm you and you’ll die instantly.”

“Don’t worry. I just want to fight them, not throw my life away,” Wang Fan replied with a smile.

No sooner had Wang Fan spoken than dozens of brightly colored venomous snakes slithered swiftly toward the crowd, their movement across the ground creating a bizarre, multicolored spectacle that filled everyone with terror.

The snakes’ advance sent the civilian cultivators into panic, and at that moment, the dozen or so special forces soldiers raised their semi-automatic rifles and opened fire. The sound of gunfire echoed continuously, muzzle flashes illuminating the hall.

Even within the Hall of Opportunity, the soldiers’ foremost duty was still to protect the civilians.