Chapter 22

Chapter 22: Breakthrough

No one could resist nonstop cultivation fueled by Seventh Seal disaster materials.

Even the Three Gods and the Five Extremes hadn’t lived this extravagantly back then.

Which meant the current Blue Star Hunting Squad was, absurdly, all Seventh Seal.

If word got out, it would shake countless people.

But it also made a kind of sense. They were few. Concentrated power grew faster.

Outside of the Three Gods and Five Extremes, more and more Seventh Seal cultivators had appeared across Hua Xia. After ten years of transformation, cultivation speeds were rising everywhere.

Wang Jie walked along a riverbank, staring at the black shadows rolling beneath the surface.

Snakes.

Huge ones.

Many Sixth Seal. Quite a few Seventh Seal.

The detector kept jumping, warning him without rest.

“Old Boss,” Old Nine said, tightening his grip, “let’s lure them out one by one and kill them. Who knows how many are in there.”

“The detector can’t tell?” Old Five asked.

Wang Jie shook his head. “It reads combat power, not bodies. The numbers keep jumping. I can’t count them.”

One by one it was, then.

Even if there were hundreds, the four of them at Seventh Seal could handle it.

He was about to move when the sky split with a streak of fire.

Wang Jie looked up, expression tightening.

Not far away, Wen Zhao did the same, face hardening.

The second batch of Trialists had arrived.

Someone had broken through Eighth Seal.

Across Hua Xia, people saw the same red streaks tearing through the sky.

In Shang Jing City, Bai Yuan’s expression sank.

So someone couldn’t hold back after all.

Who?

At Tian Fu Base, Zuo Tian frowned at the meteors. He had only just broken through himself—who dared to expose Eighth Seal cultivation at a time like this?

The meteors were fewer than the first wave, but they were concentrated in the east.

The first batch of cultivators had included plenty of unlucky ones tossed into the sea—dead before they ever met a Blue Star human.

This second batch was different.

The five major bases erupted into chaos.

People raged, searching for the one who had broken through and dragged the second wave down on their heads.

Then the news landed like a hammer.

Thirty-two Trialists.

All Eighth Seal.

Silence followed.

Trialists were already stronger than Blue Star cultivators at the same realm. Now they were one realm higher across the board.

Who could stop them?

Zuo Tian issued a notice at top speed, calling for everyone to break through Eighth Seal as quickly as possible.

He demanded that all bases prioritize disaster materials for Seventh Seal cultivators.

At the same time, imprint power erupted across Hua Xia—surging outward from countless points like a spreading tide.

Wen Zhao found Wang Jie and the others. “The third transformation is about to begin.”

Old Five jolted. “There’s a third transformation?”

“The trial exists to select the best,” Wen Zhao said. “Once the second batch arrives, Blue Star cultivators exist to serve the Trialists. And the Trialists exist to fight mutated creatures.”

“Hunting mutated creatures is both test and reward.”

She looked toward the darkening horizon. “So the mutated creatures will undergo a third transformation—to adapt to fighting Trialists.”

Wang Jie’s gaze darkened.

A trial, layered like a trap.

By logic alone, the first batch of Trialists could have controlled Hua Xia quickly. If not for him, the one in charge of Jin Ling Base would have been Yan Si or Wen Zhao. Other bases would have fallen the same way.

The first batch had underestimated Blue Star, and the situation had slipped.

Then someone broke through and summoned the second batch.

A meteor arced toward Shang Jing City.

Wang Jie didn’t hesitate. He ordered everyone onto the aircraft and headed back.

Inside Shang Jing City, countless eyes tracked the fire streaking closer, dread thick in every stare.

A Trialist had landed nearby.

The meteor smashed south of the base.

The ground exploded.

Dust and smoke billowed.

Bai Yuan moved.

In a blink, he was on the wall. The next, he was already racing south.

When he arrived, a man stepped out of the smoke, slow and relaxed. He lifted his head, met Bai Yuan’s eyes, and smiled.

“Native,” the man said. “You dare come looking for me? You must have some strength.”

Bai Yuan stopped a thousand meters away. Heat rolled off the man in waves, and the pressure of Eighth Seal pressed down hard.

“Tell me,” Bai Yuan said calmly. “What do you plan to do?”

The man glanced past him at the vast base. “This place is mine.”

Bai Yuan exhaled, tired. “As expected. You’re more direct than the first batch.”

The man’s eyes returned to him. “You’re qualified to follow me.”

To the east, Wang Jie’s aircraft touched down. He and the others remained inside, watching.

“You know him?” Wang Jie asked.

Wen Zhao shook her head.

Cultivators were approaching from behind too—Sister Tang among them.

Inside the base, drones had already risen, broadcasting everything to the light screens. The battlefield was close enough that everyone could see.

Bai Yuan raised his arm.

A sword slid from his sleeve into his hand.

He pointed the blade at the man. “How about we negotiate? Don’t set your sights on this base.”

The man’s expression turned cold. “Point a sword at me?”

He took a step forward.

The ground cracked.

Second step—his aura roared out like a tiger descending the mountain. The air twisted under its force.

Third step—the sky felt heavier. Across a huge radius, people couldn’t breathe.

He threw his head back and roared.

A ring of force exploded outward.

Every drone shattered.

Shang Jing City’s light screen went black.

Inside the base, countless people heard the roar. The sky itself seemed to dim.

Bai Yuan tightened his grip.

He lifted his eyes.

And slashed.

A cold flash cut through the air.

The world went silent.

Bai Yuan stood there, motionless, sword still in hand.

The man in front of him stared, stunned—then his body split cleanly in two.

Inside the aircraft, Wang Jie’s pupils tightened.

So fast.

Everyone had expected a massive battle after that display. Instead… one strike, and it was over.

Bai Yuan sheathed his sword, turned, and walked away as if nothing had happened.

Old Five and the others stared blankly.

Even Wen Zhao looked genuinely shocked.

Wang Jie glanced at her; she glanced back.

“The Trialist was careless,” Wang Jie said quietly, “but the gap is real. Even without that mistake, Bai Yuan would have killed him within two strikes.”

Wen Zhao nodded, voice low. “That one wasn’t strong among the second batch, but he still wasn’t someone a Seventh Seal native should be able to kill with one slash. Bai Yuan’s technique isn’t ordinary. It might be a Jia Yi Sect ultimate technique.”

Qing Zheng breathed out, awed. “No wonder he’s recognized as the strongest among the Three Gods and Five Extremes. That slash was vicious.”

Wang Jie watched Bai Yuan’s retreating back. “I’m starting to believe that even among the second batch, there might not be anyone stronger than him.”

The aircraft started and pulled away.

They had to find out who broke through Eighth Seal first. Otherwise, this would happen again.

No one would “think of the big picture” when personal survival was on the line.

They returned to the river.

But the method changed.

Wang Jie stood at the bank, imprint power surging like boiling water beneath his skin.

A mark formed on his abdomen.

Eighth Seal.

He broke through.

Wen Zhao watched from a short distance away, gaze steady.

She wanted to see what an Eighth Seal Wang Jie looked like.

Wang Jie wanted to know, too. The difference was immediate—his body felt stronger, his imprint power richer, heavier.

He lifted his hand.

Snapped his fingers.

The sky darkened.

A colossal finger descended from above.

Another rose from the riverbed below.

Like a giant reaching through nothingness, the two massive fingers pressed the river between them.

Old Five and the others gaped.

Wen Zhao narrowed her eyes. She’d seen it once before—and felt it. That absolute crushing force that had nearly killed her.

She was Wen family—one of the three great houses of Jia Yi Sect. She had free access to the Martial Hall, had learned countless techniques, possessed Bridgeway Art… and even so, she’d been crushed until she couldn’t breathe.

This finger technique was monstrous.

The river was severed.

The snakes in the mud and water died by the hundreds, meaningless as ants under Heavenly Luo Xuan Finger.

The blow even changed the river’s course, stalling the flow for a moment.

“Go,” Wang Jie said, exhaling hard. “Collect the materials.”

Old Five and the others snapped out of it and plunged into the riverbed mud to harvest the disaster materials from the dead snakes.

“You said you’d teach me,” Wen Zhao called from the distance.

Wang Jie wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He’d used nearly half his imprint power—less than last time, and with far more control.

Breaking through helped.

So did the drills.

“Of course,” he said. “But you’ll learn Luo Xuan Finger first.”

Wen Zhao frowned. “I know Luo Xuan Finger. What was the one you just used called?”

“Heavenly Luo Xuan Finger.”

Wen Zhao’s eyes flickered. The name sounded familiar.

Heavenly Luo Xuan Finger…

Wait.

Her eyes widened. “You said Heavenly Luo Xuan Finger?”

Wang Jie glanced back. “Yes. You’ve heard of it?”

“That’s impossible,” Wen Zhao said, voice tight. “Heavenly Luo Xuan Finger has been lost. How could you know it?”

“Lost?” Wang Jie frowned. “Jia Yi Sect doesn’t have it?”

“They do,” Wen Zhao said, “but only as a legacy. This technique is absurdly hard to cultivate. Thousands of years ago, a senior of Jia Yi Sect died outside. He was the last person to master it.”

She stared hard at Wang Jie. “After he died, no one in the sect could cultivate it to completion on their own.”

She didn’t ask it like a question. “Where did you learn it?”

Wang Jie pointed upward.

Wen Zhao looked at the sky.

The projection.

The Martial Hall.

Yes—the senior would have left an imprint there.

But to master Heavenly Luo Xuan Finger from a Martial Hall projection alone?

It didn’t make sense.

She looked back at Wang Jie. His expression was calm, almost annoyingly so.

Besides the Martial Hall, what other path could exist?

Jia Yi Sect had been watching Blue Star for years.

Wang Jie chuckled. “Stop overthinking it. If I teach you, then you’ll learn it too. Doesn’t that solve your problem?”

Wen Zhao’s lips curved bitterly. If only it were that easy. The sect’s true geniuses couldn’t do it.

Heavenly Luo Xuan Finger earned them a haul of disaster materials.

Old Five clapped Wang Jie’s shoulder, still giddy. “Old Boss, if we hunt a few more days, our Hunting Squad ranking will skyrocket!”

Wang Jie nodded. “These materials should be enough to push all of you to Eighth Seal.”

He glanced toward Wen Zhao. “The third batch of Trialists won’t arrive that quickly. Even with materials, cultivators still need time to break through Ninth Seal.”

He studied her. “How long?”

Wen Zhao hesitated. “Below Star-Breaking Rank, cultivation isn’t truly difficult. Some are born with Star-Breaking Rank combat power.”

“And the true prodigies—even if born ordinary—can leap straight into Ten Seals with enough understanding.”

She exhaled. “I didn’t believe Blue Star had people like that. Then you appeared. And Bai Yuan.”

“I won’t underestimate this place again.”

Wang Jie’s eyes sharpened. “Then we move faster.”