Living In Another World With A Farm Chapter 8431: Traps (1)

A burst of white light erupted, transporting Zhao Hai into a vast void. As his vision sharpened, he swiftly scanned the environment. Shock gripped Zhao Hai upon realizing he'd entered an utterly bizarre realm, one far beyond anything he'd ever conceived.

Lush green grass encircled him, interspersed with vivid blossoms. Trees rose nearby amid the flowers. From time to time, rabbits scampered past. The scene evoked a heavenly sanctuary on earth. Such beauty alone wouldn't faze him, yet Zhao Hai's perceptive eyes detected the irregularity at once.

Zhao Hai observed that the grass, blooms, trees, and even rabbits shared a singular trait: they lacked any vital essence. These weren't mere phantoms, though. Constructed from metal, the grass consisted of supple green alloy, the flowers of multicolored metal, the trees of earthy-toned metal with leaves mimicking the grass. All were automatons. What astonished Zhao Hai most was their operation without mana; instead, they functioned mechanically, driven by clockwork-like mechanisms.

This realm consisted of metal, machinery, and concealed snares. Though it appeared serene, Zhao Hai sensed the lurking menace. Such a discovery left him amazed, fueling his desire to uncover the nature of this domain.

Suddenly, Zhao Hai spotted scattered puppet remnants a short distance away. Recognition dawned; upon closer inspection, they matched the fragments from those clans' hidden lair. The realization rendered Zhao Hai speechless. He'd never suspected those families had obtained these puppet shards from here. It implied they hadn't ventured into this zone at all—just accessed the teleportation array, retrieved the pieces, and extracted them for analysis? Such haste seemed reckless.

Zhao Hai misjudged this occasion. Those clans refused to abandon the secret realm so easily. They dispatched explorers beyond the teleportation array, but every one perished within. Only a fortunate few who fled carried out puppet fragments. That's how the pieces ended up in their possession.

The great clans had incurred heavy casualties in this place. Ultimately, they resorted to examining the puppet shards. Had alternatives existed, they wouldn't have settled for mere fragments. Though lacking Zhao Hai's insight into the deceptive trees and grass, their avarice surpassed his own.

Zhao Hai surveyed the area, detecting no immediate peculiarities. As he prepared to ascend, an oppressive force descended. Momentarily taken aback, he quickly comprehended: a no-fly array governed here, barring flight for cultivators. This revelation heightened Zhao Hai's intrigue about the location.

Gazing at the grass, Zhao Hai grinned and advanced. His foot pressed down, causing initial flexion, but upon reaching a limit, it rebounded with intensified vigor, transforming into rigid spikes like iron pegs. Without mana shielding one's soles, traversing the grass proved impossible.

Yet Zhao Hai remained unconcerned. His physique boasted immense durability, far exceeding mere metal. He ignored protections, proceeding leisurely without arrays. The rebounding grass merely elevated his steps, letting him tread on the tips and progress. It offered no peril to his feet.

Naturally, Zhao Hai's footwear quickly deteriorated, leaving him barefoot soon after. Still, anxiety eluded him. He pressed on methodically, observing his path while murmuring, "Interesting. This place is truly fascinating. It doesn't seem like something average folk could craft."

Mid-mutter, Zhao Hai sensed a coil around his ankle. Before glancing down, a tremendous pull yanked him forward. Alarm surged through him. In that instant, a rattling noise emanated from beneath, then his foot freed itself as he toppled. Next, sharp protrusions caught his form. Only then did Zhao Hai grasp the ambush.

Not a formation had ensnared him, but a contrivance. Zhao Hai had deemed the Divine Secrets Sect's puppetry formidable, presuming their legacy encompassed mechanisms too. Now, he fully appreciated the sect's mechanical prowess. He'd succumbed moments ago, and without his robust build, death would have claimed him.

The assailant was the most basic trap: a spinning disk. To ensnare cultivators, though, it required enhanced potency. Indeed, this disk packed power. Flight prohibition made it viable first. Then, the grass's razor edges demanded spiritual energy for foot protection, rendering steps ponderous—like clad in weighted boots, each one thudding heavily.

The terrain mimicked soil, shielding against divine sense probes. Cultivators overlooked such basics, never anticipating a rudimentary disk against them.

Thanks to the sense-blocking soil, the disk's pit evaded detection. As heavy strides continued, vine-like grass snared ankles suddenly. Upon binding, the disk whirled instantly. With feet tethered and spin rapid, reaction proved futile, pitching victims forward. The trap revolved fully, akin to a cycle within. It housed retractable blades linked to its gears. During rotation, blades withdrew; upon inversion, they thrust out to lacerate fallen cultivators. After one cycle, the grass released, dumping the victim as the disk reset.

Describing this chain of devices suggested duration, but it unfolded in a flash. The disk vanished into the earth, resuming normalcy. Absent Zhao Hai's resilience, any other cultivator would lie slain here.

With this realization, Zhao Hai extended his spiritual power outward. As expected, he located several bodies. Dark stains marred the blades, resembling congealed blood. He also discerned the trap's design: merely three meters deep, yet holding multiple corpses. He perched atop a blade; without his toughness, it'd have pierced him repeatedly.

Exhaling deeply, Zhao Hai whispered, "Impressive. Such a basic contrivance could fell cultivators. The Divine Secrets Sect truly excels. No surprise the Cloud Sea Realm's forces sought its annihilation. Left unchecked, their growth would doom others."

With that, Zhao Hai rose cautiously. Balancing on two blade tips, he shoved the overhead panel. It quivered slightly. Smirking, he exerted full force, flipping it open. In a fluid motion, he vaulted free.

The exterior world retained its tranquility, unaltered. Rabbits continued bounding through grass, indistinguishable from live ones. But Zhao Hai knew perils abounded, far from simplistic.

Undeterred, he scanned about, then eyed the rear disk trap—now seamlessly restored, blending with environs. Zhao Hai marveled inwardly at the Divine Secrets Sect's clever engineering. Conceiving it seemed inconceivable.

Grinning, Zhao Hai murmured, "The more elaborate, the more captivating. My curiosity about this domain intensifies. I must uncover its secrets and the nature of its creations." With those words, he advanced steadily, vigilance sweeping his surroundings.

Suddenly, a rabbit approached Zhao Hai, fixing him with a stare. It mirrored a genuine bunny perfectly: snow-furred white, ruby eyes, tri-lobed mouth. Adorably harmless in appearance.

Yet abruptly, its fur launched at Zhao Hai. Composed of metal, the strands resembled copper darts upon firing. Proximity rendered evasion impossible. Zhao Hai, however, made no attempt to evade. He gestured, tracing a circle around himself. The fur veered into his grasp like homing birds. Instantly, a clutch of pristine white rabbit hair filled his palm.