Chapter Thirty-Five: The Seal of the Green Mountain

Putting away the notice in his hand, He Song glanced at Wei Fan, who stood nearby, his brow equally furrowed.

Just moments ago, cultivators from the Law Enforcement Squad of the Immortal Market had delivered a proclamation. The two of them had examined it together, their eyes soon falling upon the rows of blood-red characters spelling out the word “death.”

These days, though He Song and Wei Fan had not left their home, both were cultivators with wide circles of acquaintances. Thus, even while remaining indoors, they had gleaned much news from the outside world through others. By now, they were not ignorant of what was happening beyond their doors.

They knew precisely what was unfolding out there.

“As expected, the moment Master Chengshan departs, chaos descends upon the Immortal Market,” Wei Fan sighed as he sat at the table, a complicated look in his eyes.

He was a man of many friends. Besides the small circle formed by himself, He Song, and Meng Guan, he also had other companions—some unaffiliated cultivators, some residents of the Immortal Market. But all shared one thing in common: they lived within the Bamboo Mountain Immortal Market and interacted with him, the steward of the Pavilion of Spiritual Construction.

Now that chaos had erupted in Bamboo Mountain Immortal Market, there was no telling whether any of his friends would survive.

At this thought, the complexity in Wei Fan’s eyes faded, replaced by a wry, self-deprecating smile and a shake of his head. His abilities were limited; he could shield only those closest to him. As for the others... he had not warned them even once—not when things were safe, and certainly not now, with the market in turmoil.

What use was there in dwelling on such thoughts now?

Wei Fan quickly dismissed the notion. He, like He Song, was no saint, willing to risk everything for strangers. Only when he had the ability, and when it would not threaten his own safety, would he choose to shelter his dearest friends—people like He Song and Meng Guan.

This was, in part, why the three had formed such a close-knit circle so swiftly.

He Song, Meng Guan, and Wei Fan were not the kind to be moved by the woes of the world. They would only lend a hand when they could do so without harm to themselves, and only to those with whom they shared true bonds.

Perhaps it was this like-mindedness that made their companionship so congenial.

As for others, why should Wei Fan concern himself?

“The demonic cultivators run rampant. For now, it’s best we remain indoors. We’ll wait for Master Chengshan’s return, or for the Earth Sect to send another Foundation Establishment expert to this place before we consider venturing out,” He Song said after a moment’s thought, his brows still knitted.

He had no inkling of Wei Fan’s inner turmoil. He simply wanted to ensure their safety, hence his suggestion.

Wei Fan, recognizing He Song’s caution, did not object.

So, despite having read the proclamation, neither man ventured outside to see for themselves. Instead, as before, they stayed quietly at home, waiting.

On the fifth day, He Song and Wei Fan remained indoors.

The previous night, many unaffiliated cultivators living on the outskirts of the Immortal Market had heard the sounds of fierce battle: the crashes of magical artifacts clashing, the surges of spiritual power as spells were cast, the shouts of anger and exertion, and even eerie, cackling laughter mingled with a chill that seeped into the bones. Those with weaker cultivation cowered in their homes, trembling through the long hours.

Only the bold and skilled dared step outside. Whether they did so out of curiosity or to seize an opportunity for plunder, no one could say. Most of those who ventured out did not return.

When dawn broke, the low-level cultivators finally dared open their doors and step into the streets—only to be stunned by the scene before them.

Corpses lay strewn across the thoroughfares: members of the Law Enforcement Squad, masked figures clad in black, and, most numerous of all, the ordinary unaffiliated cultivators who had left their homes.

It was not until midday that the Law Enforcement Squad arrived to collect the bodies of their own, leaving the rest untouched, unclaimed.

On the sixth day, He Song and Wei Fan still remained at home.

The previous night, the outskirts of the Immortal Market had been eerily quiet, yet the oppressive atmosphere sent fear rippling through all who lived there.

Some tried to flee, only to have their bodies discovered abandoned by the roadside.

Others sought to hide, but where could one possibly conceal oneself within the market’s confines?

Some attempted to slip into the inner circle of the Immortal Market, but lacking a residence there, they were quickly turned back by the Law Enforcement Squad.

By this time, those with a keen sense for information already knew: the outer ring of the Immortal Market had been abandoned.

The night before last, after a brutal confrontation, the Law Enforcement Squad had suffered heavy losses and was forced to retreat to the inner circle.

Now, the outer ring was utterly undefended. The unaffiliated cultivators and even market personnel who remained could do nothing but pray that they would not draw the attention of the demonic cultivators.

The entire outer ring had been forsaken.

On the seventh day, He Song and Wei Fan still did not leave their home.

The previous night, the Law Enforcement Squad, now entrenched in the inner circle, clashed once more with the demonic cultivators.

Though the squad suffered significant casualties, they managed—thanks to the assistance of some late-stage Qi Refining cultivators residing within the inner circle—to repel the demonic invaders.

After the enemy withdrew, no further news from the outer ring reached them. He Song and Wei Fan, secluded within their small courtyard, were now completely cut off from the outskirts of the market. The fate of those who had lived there was all too easy to imagine.

On the eighth day, He Song and Wei Fan remained at home, their attention ever alert to the state of the world outside.

After two fierce battles, the Law Enforcement Squad’s numbers were severely diminished. Judging by the ferocity of the demonic cultivators’ assaults, should another battle occur, and if the inner circle’s late-stage cultivators did not intervene, the defensive line would likely collapse in short order.

Yet as the day wore on, no sound disturbed the silence beyond their walls. It was as though the entire market had become a city of the dead—so quiet it was unnerving.

Until—

“Vermin! Seeking death!” A furious shout from the distant heavens reached their ears.

Startled, He Song and Wei Fan hurried to the window, looking out toward the horizon. Throughout the market, cultivators poked their heads from windows and doorways, gazing into the distance.

There, high above, stood Master Chengshan, clad in earth-yellow robes, his face as dark as thunder as he surveyed the ruined Immortal Market below. The flames of wrath in his eyes seemed almost to burst forth.

He had been charged with the defense of Bamboo Mountain Immortal Market, but days earlier, when the Red Spirit Gold Mine sent a call for aid, he had been forced to leave temporarily. Who could have foreseen that in just a few days’ absence, the once-prosperous market would be reduced to such a state?

As its guardian, there was no escaping his responsibility. Now, seeing his efforts laid waste, how could he not be anxious?

And in that moment, He Song finally understood why he was called Master Chengshan—Master of the Bearing Mountain.

Under the gaze of countless cultivators, he raised his hand, and a miniature mountain flew forth from his palm.

The Azure Mountain Seal!