Living In Another World With A Farm Chapter 8498: 475-from beginning to end (1)

Chang Jun spoke in a grave tone, “I’m not sure exactly what occurred that day, but suddenly, a vast expanse of ominous clouds gathered overhead. Those clouds nearly blanketed the whole sea territory controlled by the blood massacre sect. Soon enough, a rift tore open in those clouds. From that rift, a peculiar noise echoed out. Next, we spotted a finger descending toward us. We were quite distant from blood massacre Island, so visibility shouldn’t have been possible. Yet, somehow, that finger stood out crystal clear. It resembled a massive pillar propping up the heavens, glowing with a pale radiance. Still, we discerned every detail of the finger, and likewise, the entire confrontation unfolded before our eyes.”

Chang Jun’s features twisted with a mix of dread and thrill at this recollection. His voice trembled with fervor as he went on, “That finger appeared utterly bizarre, lacking any sign of muscle or tissue—just dense hide encasing stark bones. The instant it thrust downward, a streak of saber energy surged upward from blood slaughter Island. This strike came jointly from the sect master and the six elders, wielded through the blood killing blade. The saber energy sliced straight into the finger, severing it clean. But the sect master and elders looked utterly drained, plummeting from the air like they’d burned through their very essence.”

Chang Jun’s expression darkened with profound grief once more. He pressed on, “Once the divine finger got severed, it seemed furious beyond measure. It struck again. Oh, and it uttered, ‘soul-hooking ghost claw.’ Then, an enormous spectral claw plunged from above. But right then, every soul on blood slaughter Island channeled their dharmic powers into the blood slaughter saber. He swung once more. This blow wounded the ghost claw, drawing even a trickle of blood. Yet, the island’s defenders had poured out every last drop of their power. In the end, the blood slaughter saber shattered apart. The exalted goddess flew into a greater rage, unleashing a horde of ghost claws. Those claws ravaged every island under the blood slaughter sect. We spotted one heading our way too. By then, our island’s defensive formation lay in ruins from the finger’s initial assault. In that critical instant, the bronze statue whisked us all inside. Once within its hollow core, we sensed the space trembling fiercely. A tremendous energy surged through that inner realm. Then, darkness claimed us, and we blacked out.”

Zhao Hai let out a heavy breath as Chang Jun wrapped up his tale. Though the fight sounded brief from the account, Zhao Hai grasped its ferocity all too well. The blood massacre sect lived up to its fierce name—they’d never yield to any foe, not even a High God. The sect’s warriors refused to face doom passively; they struck back, lopping off an enemy’s finger and even nicking that ghostly claw. Such feats alone filled the blood massacre sect with glory.

Zhao Hai wasn’t foolish enough to believe non-resistance would spare the blood slaughter sect. Had they not fought, blood slaughter Island might have crumbled outright, leaving the other islands intact. But the sect’s leaders would have vanished with the main isle, spelling doom for the organization. Don’t forget, the seven major sects had massed their troops, poised to strike anytime. Yet, the blood slaughter sect’s defiance drew that supreme being from the upper realm to crush them personally. It robbed the seven great sects of their shot at invasion.

Now, clarity dawned on Zhao Hai about the seven major sects holding back their forces against the blood slaughter sect. No point in marching now—the sect had been eradicated from the blood sea realm by that highgod. That’s why no armies came. Any scouts they dispatched would just scout the ruins of the blood slaughter sect, hunting for stragglers. Spot any, and they’d strike without mercy, wiping out every last member. No survivors allowed.

With everything pieced together, Zhao Hai declared solemnly, “We ought to head to a secure spot at once. Let’s check it out.” He flicked his wrist, and a burst of white light transported them all to a modest-sized space. There stood a city, packed with myriad structures of every style. This was the mystic realm the bloody massacre sect had secured.

Zhao Hai’s hunch proved spot on—the secret realm escaped major harm, remaining a haven. He guided the group inside. Upon arrival, Zhao Hai scanned the area with his spiritual sense first. His gaze sharpened, and he soared beyond the city walls. Chang Jun and the rest, puzzled by his intent, trailed after him anyway. They reached the outskirts swiftly and spotted it: a modest structure.

This little edifice sat amid a grassy expanse just outside the city. What was once deceptive turf—a snare Zhao Hai had first encountered in the city—now lay bare. No blades of grass or trickster trees remained. Only the solitary small building endured, exuding a haunting loneliness. A signboard dangled from it, bearing three bold characters: Sutra library!

This chamber was the dream of every prodigy in the blood slaughter sect, housing their supreme cultivation methods. Truly, the Scripture chamber formed the heart of the blood slaughter sect. It safeguarded all the elite techniques amassed over ten millennia. These weren’t just advanced arts; even the basic ones ranked top-tier in their categories.

Gazing upon the Sutra library, Zhao Hai instantly recognized the elders’ desperate resolve. They knew catastrophe had struck the blood slaughter sect while he lingered outside, so they’d act decisively. In the chaos, they hadn’t stashed other treasures here or found the leisure to. They’d rushed the Sutra library to safety, as it embodied the sect’s legacy. This was the blood slaughter sect’s true lineage, meant to endure. Now, that burden rested squarely on Zhao Hai.

Zhao Hai stared at the Scripture chamber and sighed deeply. He faced the group and instructed, “Rest up properly here, everyone. After this catastrophe, it seems we’re all that remains of the sect. Our blood slaughter sect’s fate—whether we rebuild, reclaim a spot among the ten great sects, rise to prominence, or avenge today’s slaughter—hinges on us. We carry the last spark of the blood slaughter sect. Train diligently in this place. I’ll venture out to search for any survivors and handle a few urgent matters.”

Chang Jun and Wen Yuming paled at Zhao Hai’s declaration. Chang Jun blurted out, “No, Island master. It’s far too perilous outside. You mustn’t venture forth. The seven major sects are surely hunting us, lying in wait. If they catch sight of you, they’ll show no quarter.”

Zhao Hai dismissed their fears with a wave. “Relax. The seven major sects have no clue I survived. They can’t just waltz into blood slaughter sect lands unchecked. I’ve got unfinished business. Cultivate here in peace.” With those words, Zhao Hai vanished in a flicker.

Chang Jun and Wen Yuming understood Zhao Hai’s prowess well. They fretted as he departed, yet felt powerless. This space bound them—they couldn’t exit. Even anxious, they couldn’t aid him. Moments later, Zhao Hai reemerged in the secret realm, clutching a large banner this time. He flourished it, summoning a thousand-strong squad into the mystic realm.

Zhao Hai had briefly slipped out to the dark ghost sect, folding the Ghostwind bandits into the dark wind Ghost flag. He then ferried the flag via the blood lotus, teleporting back to the secret realm. The Ghostwind bandits reeled in confusion, thrust into this alien domain. Stranger still, others already occupied the space.

Zhao Hai eyed Xu Gang and his crew sternly. “This is my domain. You’ll train here for now, obeying Chang Jun fully. Chang Jun, brief them on our identity and the events. As of today, they join us. But heed this: any who defy orders, execute without hesitation!”

“Yes,” Chang Jun acknowledged, though bemused. In the blink of an eye, Zhao Hai had vanished from the secret realm again, leaving Chang Jun and his allies to oversee the Ghostwind bandits. Spotting the garb on Chang Jun’s group, the bandits quickly pegged them as blood massacre sect members. Still, they couldn’t fathom Zhao Hai’s ties to the sect.

Chang Jun sized up these newcomers too. He knew little of them, but their rugged appearances screamed troublemakers. Their attire suggested rogue cultivators. Curiosity stirred in Chang Jun—the veil over Zhao Hai’s activities remained tight. They’d heard nothing of his exploits lately. Naturally, the Ghostwind bandits meant nothing to them either. Blood Gale Island stayed insular, with details known only to a select few.

Just then, Zhu Yong, stationed at Chang Jun’s side, chimed in, “Lord Chang, these are the Ghostwind bandits’ crew. The lord’s been on a sect assignment, posing as their leader, zou Xiao. They likely remain ignorant of his real self. Best reveal the lord’s true status to them, and update them on our plight. And if they act shady, recall the lord’s command!”

Chang Jun blinked in surprise at Zhu Yong’s revelation. He pivoted to him and said, “Old Zhu, drop the ‘Lord’ bit. We stand equal now. Fill me in on the full story.” Chang Jun held scant regard for Xu Gang and company. As an Island Lord-tier expert, matched by his peers, he saw no reason to coddle these underlings.