Chapter 131

Chapter 131: A Wider World

Wang Jie’s chest tightened.

He was watching Chen Art—on a creature.

It hadn’t cultivated starforce. If anything, this was a Lock Art.

Even among the geniuses of the great sects, only a handful could truly master Chen Art.

And this thing could.

Qi spread through the storm. Every raindrop carried the creature’s qi. When the rain struck the ground, it sprang back up in faint ripples of force, like countless marbles rebounding through the sky.

The combat power detector climbed.

Eighty thousand.

Wang Jie frowned.

Qi-Qi Convergence ignited within him, turning into transparent flame that wrapped his body. Power surged in waves until the air around him felt ready to tear.

In his hand, the Blue Sea Sword appeared. Qi coiled along the blade, warping the air like heat.

With a deafening boom, lockforce erupted from the creature and speared into the sky, shaking the sixth layer itself.

Rain blasted upward. Mud and water churned. Ancient trees toppled like grass as waves of lockforce rolled outward from the creature’s core.

Wang Jie answered with his own lockforce. From the ten deep-black marks in his body, a pillar surged up—stubborn, hard, unyielding.

For a moment, it resisted the Full-Star Realm suppression pressing down on him.

Even if his quantity was still less, what he had was fierce—refusing to be seized or controlled.

The creature opened its eyes.

The stone sword rose.

Then pressed down—

And slashed.

The blade swept sideways, the sword body itself becoming a crushing force that seemed ready to grind heaven and earth into dust.

At the same time, endless rain poured into the slash, forming countless blade arcs across the sky.

The entire world turned into a web of cutting edges.

Sword as hilt.

Rain as blade.

Rain Sword Art.

Wang Jie’s pupils tightened.

Star-Gazing Sword Form erupted.

In the hazy world, star-like sword qi fell in cascading lines. Under Wang Jie’s control, each line sliced into the rain curtain carrying the creature’s qi.

Sword qi collided with rain blades again and again, forming a shifting barrier around him.

Sword Steps flowed beneath his feet. He vanished, then reappeared—

Right in front of the creature.

The Blue Sea Sword flashed.

He cut the stone sword in two.

He stepped onto the broken blade and drove forward. The creature’s pupils shrank. Instinctively, it raised the remaining hilt to block.

Wang Jie’s next slash came across.

The hilt was forced back by sheer power. The edge pressed into the creature’s head and split its forehead open.

The creature launched backward like a thrown boulder.

Wang Jie moved to pursue—

And the rain he hadn’t fully canceled smashed into him.

Even without the creature’s qi, the force was brutal.

It felt like being hammered by countless heavy fists. His body slammed into the mud and disappeared beneath the ground.

Sword Steps pierced the air.

Wang Jie reappeared as the creature flew, drove his blade into its belly, and punched through.

With a wrenching twist, he flung it even farther.

It crashed down with an impact that made the earth shudder.

Wang Jie coughed blood into the mud, buried deep, bones screaming.

He forced himself up and clawed his way out.

The storm had settled back into its earlier rhythm.

Rain stitched sky to earth.

The sky was still dark, but the landscape had changed. The trees that held up the sixth layer had been knocked down in swaths, trunks scattered like wreckage.

Wang Jie headed toward where the creature had fallen.

It lay in the mud, barely moving.

It was badly hurt.

Worst was the Sword Steps blade driven through its chest. Next was its forehead, split open and ragged.

When it saw Wang Jie, it closed its narrow eyes, tilted its head, and bared its neck.

Wang Jie let out a quiet laugh. “I’m not going to kill you.”

The creature opened its eyes and stared at him, clearly confused.

“You can’t speak?”

It shook its head.

Wang Jie exhaled. “Then who did you learn your swordsmanship from?”

The creature rolled its eyes upward as if searching its memory, then lifted a trembling hand and scratched at the mud—an oval, a few curved lines.

A person, maybe.

But it couldn’t form the details.

“A woman?” Wang Jie guessed.

The creature only looked more confused.

Wang Jie sighed. “Forget it. Rest.”

He had no intention of killing it.

It had intelligence, and it hadn’t carried killing intent toward him—only battle intent.

It had even given him insight.

Killing it for rewards would have left a bad taste in his mouth.

Wang Jie turned to go. Before he left, he tossed the creature a Revival Pill.

It swallowed.

Rain kept falling.

Wang Jie walked for a long time before he finally found trees that hadn’t been knocked down by the fight.

That battle had reached farther than he’d expected.

And for a place this dangerous, Sixth Layer had surprisingly few disaster creatures.

The end couldn’t be far.

Next would be Seventh Layer.

Seventh Layer sounded almost too easy. How far could he ultimately go?

He was still thinking when the ground trembled behind him.

His combat power detector shrieked.

Wang Jie turned.

The creature was charging through the rain after him.

Wang Jie stopped and watched it approach.

It ran up, panting. Blood seeped from its chest wound. Across its split forehead, it had tied a twig into a knot like crude stitching.

It looked ridiculous.

It pointed urgently in one direction.

Wang Jie’s heart stirred. “You want me to follow you?”

The creature nodded.

Then it patted its own shoulder.

Wang Jie chuckled. A reward for sparing it?

Did it know where the sixth layer’s real prize was?

He didn’t hesitate. He leapt onto its shoulder.

The creature carried him through the rain for a long time, until it stopped beneath an ancient tree—thicker than the others, its trunk like a pillar.

It dug at the roots, then stepped aside and pointed down.

A narrow entrance had opened into the earth.

Too narrow for the creature to enter.

Wang Jie slipped inside.

Belowground was far larger than it should have been. The moment he entered, flames sprang to life along the walls, casting warm light.

Four massive rooms stretched ahead.

The first was bare except for carvings—complex sword diagrams layered over each other, overlapping blades and lines until they looked nearly unreadable.

This wasn’t how normal sword moves were carved.

The next two rooms were the same.

Only the fourth looked lived-in: everyday items, so old they collapsed into dust at a touch.

The whole room’s palette was pink.

So Zhong Yi liked pink.

Wang Jie brushed dust from the wall carvings.

His eyes widened.

Yi Sword Art.

It was carved here.

Chen Art—no, more accurately, a lock art.

This was Zhong Yi’s own sword path. Like Myriad-Stars Finger, it wasn’t merely a technique. It was closer to Chen Art itself.

Wang Jie read the explanation etched into the wall.

He stood there for three full days before it finally clicked.

Then he went back through the other three rooms.

Of course.

Seen through the lens of Yi Sword Art, those “unreadable” carvings weren’t random at all—they were methods. Three different sets.

Yi Sword Art changed depending on how many swords you used.

At the lowest level, you used a single sword.

And the effect of that single-sword form was exactly what the creature had used—

Rain Sword Art.

So the creature really had learned from Zhong Yi.

Rain Sword Art was only the entry.

The other two methods carved here were even stronger.

But even Rain Sword Art required One Gaze, Three Thousand before you could cultivate it.

That creature had reached One Gaze, Three Thousand.

If it had followed Zhong Yi, it had to be ancient. That made sense.

On another wall, Wang Jie found a line of writing—and a star map etched into the stone.

“I’m not dead. This world is too small. I’ve seen a wider world.

If you can read what I left, then come travel with me!

Let’s keep each other company, go beat people up, and have some fun. The outside is exciting.”

Wang Jie stared.

Zhong Yi… wasn’t dead?

Could that be true?

Black-White Heaven claimed they’d confirmed her death.

But Zhong Yi had once plunged the Zhi family into three hours of darkness. Could Black-White Heaven really be certain what happened to her after that?

Or had they declared her dead to bury the humiliation?

Zhong Yi had existed in Lock Passage. She’d been to Black-White Heaven. If even this world felt small, what did she mean by “outside”?

Black-White Heaven ruled the fourth nebula. In theory, it could brush against giants like the Jia Yi Sect.

If the “wider world” Zhong Yi meant was truly on that scale, Black-White Heaven shouldn’t be ignorant.

Unless—

Unless she’d carved these words before she ever reached Star-Breaking Realm.

Maybe she’d only seen Lock Passage at that time, and it felt small.

Maybe she hadn’t touched Black-White Heaven yet.

Wang Jie memorized the star map.

He had no intention of leaving this world now.

He still needed to cultivate, break through, and protect Blue Star—step by step.

He was, by nature, easy to satisfy.

There was only one thing he refused to let go.

He had to kill Shu Mu Ye.

Wang Jie emerged from underground.

The creature waited outside, watching him.

Wang Jie looked up at it. “You followed Zhong Yi?”

The creature nodded.

It even seemed to smile—lopsided, ugly, but unmistakably pleased.

Wang Jie tossed it a few more Revival Pills. “I’m leaving. Be careful. Don’t die.”

The creature rumbled low in its throat, reluctant.

It was lonely here.

Who knew how many years would pass before it saw another human?

Now the first one in ages was leaving.

It wanted to see Wang Jie off.

Wang Jie didn’t refuse. Riding was easier than walking.

Before they left, he held up the Thousand-Color Stone. “Have you seen this before?”

The creature looked at it and shook its head.

Wang Jie frowned, surprised. “Then you didn’t cultivate that lock art with this?”

He thought for a beat, then asked, “Have you been to Fourth Layer?”

The creature nodded.

“So you refined your lock art in the gravity zones,” Wang Jie murmured.

He pinched the creature’s skin. It was hard as armor—defensive strength forged under extreme pressure.

Before long, they reached the boundary.

Wang Jie climbed down and waved. “Go back.”

The creature growled, unwilling to leave, watching him like it wanted to follow.

If nothing changed, the next time it saw a human might be a very, very long time from now.

How many ten seals cultivators could reach Sixth Layer?

Past and present, there were probably only Zhong Yi… and him.

Wang Jie went on alone.

Soon, he reached the entrance to Seventh Layer. He recovered some lockforce, then stepped inside.

Seventh Layer required only ten thousand combat power. Wang Jie easily took control of a flying creature and rode it toward the end.

On the way, he ran into Miao Tai.

The man looked battered, still catching his breath after a fierce fight with a Star-Breaking Realm creature.

“Lord,” Miao Tai asked, curiosity flickering in his eyes, “which layer did you come from?”

“Third Layer,” Wang Jie said.

Miao Tai didn’t look surprised. With Wang Jie’s strength, clearing Third Layer wasn’t a problem.

But only Third Layer?

Senior Fu An had said this man was terrifying. Fourth Layer should have been within reach.

Miao Tai wanted information.

Wang Jie gave him none.

He brought Miao Tai along to the end.

On purpose, Wang Jie made a show of it—bold, loud, fearless—just to see what rewards would drop.

In the end, he received a large pile of disaster materials and a bottle of Breath-Holding Pill.

“So that’s the reward,” Wang Jie said.

Miao Tai blinked. “You got all that?”

“You didn’t?”

Miao Tai shook his head, swallowing bitterness. “Lord really is impressive.”