Chapter Fifty-Five: The Origins of Soldiers

Everyone stared blankly at the empty martial arena.

A deathly silence fell; no one could utter a single word.

Tang Tian scratched his head in bewilderment. “I didn’t do anything… How strange. Why did they all explode?”

No one could respond; the scene they had just witnessed was simply too bizarre and inconceivable.

“Maybe we’ve been using it too much lately?”

“That’s possible! It’s been five or six years, hasn’t it? Maybe its lifespan was up. Otherwise, why would it explode?”

“Yes, yes! Six years! Even if it were made of iron, being tormented every day like that, it wouldn’t hold up forever…”

Everyone began discussing the matter among themselves. The more they talked, the more reasonable it seemed that the Weakness Arena had finally given out. Tang Tian, still scratching his head, quietly heaved a sigh of relief—two hundred seventy-one fourth-rank Silver Soul General Cards! If he’d really broken them himself, selling himself wouldn’t be enough to pay for the damage.

Sima Xiangshan and the others also seemed enlightened; this was more reasonable, after all. Tang Tian was strong, but to claim he had no weaknesses at all was a bit far-fetched.

Still, with the Weakness Arena broken by Tang Tian, their original training plan was naturally cancelled.

Lord Kong, seeing this, waved his hand and sent everyone back to their rooms to rest.

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Tang Tian returned to his room and fell into bed, fast asleep. He didn’t give the matter of the Weakness Arena a second thought; deep down, he felt it had simply broken on its own, and he bore no guilt. He was only a bit disappointed that the sparring he’d anticipated was now cancelled.

Fortunately, the time had come to enter the Light Gate again. Without hesitation, he stepped through, ready to begin a new round of arduous training.

Tang Tian’s arrival seemed to awaken Bing.

Whenever Bing was idle, he would float quietly in midair, staring into the distant mist wall in a daze. Tang Tian greeted him and prepared to begin his training; he was not far from mastering the finishing move “Starlit Sky” with his Fragmented Shadow Palm.

“Tang, do you want to increase your training time?” Bing suddenly asked.

Tang Tian paused, curiosity lighting his face. “You can increase the training time?”

Bing nodded.

“How?” Tang Tian’s interest grew, his curiosity plain. Though the training was grueling, its effects were far superior to ordinary cultivation.

Bing raised his spear and pointed ahead. “There is a training ground up ahead. If you enter it, you’ll be able to come here more frequently.”

“A training ground?” Tang Tian followed Bing’s spear with his gaze, seeing only the boundless mist wall. “You mean the training ground is inside the mist?”

Bing confirmed.

“What exactly is this mist?” Tang Tian asked, full of curiosity. “It looks like fog but not quite; it can be destroyed and is everywhere.”

Bing was silent a moment, then spoke. “It’s the Chrono Ash Mist.”

Tang Tian frowned. “Chrono Sand Mist?” Everything Bing said sounded strange and unfamiliar.

“One of the most powerful forces of the Southern Cross.” Bing continued, “This is actually a sealed and confined place. Time does not flow here because of these Chrono Sand Mists, which bind this region.”

“So where is this place? And how do you know all this?” Tang Tian stared at Bing, his tone grave. “The Southern Cross training token was my mother’s keepsake! Bing, who are you, really?”

Bing replied, “This is the Southern Cross Legion’s garrison.”

“Southern Cross Legion?” Tang Tian was stunned.

Calmly, Bing said, “I belonged to the Tao Division of the Southern Cross Legion.”

“Then why did my mother have this bronze token?” Tang Tian asked, bewildered.

“I don’t know,” Bing shook his head.

Tang Tian was silent for a moment, then looked up, his expression brightening. Curiosity returned to his face. “Were you always here? What was it like before?”

“This area used to be the recruit camp,” Bing replied in his usual monotone.

“That sounds fun!” Tang Tian’s interest soared. “I’ve never joined a legion before. Bing, tell me about the old days—it must have been fascinating!”

Bing paused, as if not hearing him, then continued in his stiff voice, “Beyond the black crystal ahead is the recruit training camp. There are things inside you could use.”

“The recruit training camp! What’s in there?” Tang Tian’s excitement grew—anything that could help his cultivation was a treasure. “How far is it?”

“Two kilometers,” Bing replied, his voice as emotionless as ever.

“Two… two kilometers…” Tang Tian’s face froze, stammering.

Clearing two kilometers of mist wall—just thinking of the task made even steely-willed Tang Tian’s limbs go soft and his face pale.

Bing’s expression did not change.

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In the room,

Lord Kong’s face was grave, lost in thought.

The old man spoke in a low voice, “I’m certain, my lord, the problem wasn’t with the Weakness Arena itself. Thinking it over, there are several possibilities. First, Tang Tian’s mind is truly flawless; this is least likely. Who could possibly have no weakness? Second, he possesses some secret treasure for protection, causing the Gray Cat’s Eye to fail to see through him and triggering a backlash. But when I checked during the substandard test, I found no such treasure on him. Either he has none, or it’s extraordinarily well hidden. Third, he has a unique bloodline, and the Gray Cat’s Eye’s probing awakened the power in his veins, causing the backlash.”

Lord Kong asked, expressionless, “Which do you think is most likely?”

“The third,” the old man answered without hesitation.

“That would be a pity,” Lord Kong sighed. He agreed with the old man’s judgment—it matched his own. Every mind has its flaw; even famous masters are not exempt, only more or less so. As for secret treasures, Lord Kong had sensed no such energy from Tang Tian.

“Yes,” the old man echoed, equally regretful.

The Guild of Light, though rich in martial techniques, had little to offer in bloodline research. Their mortal enemies, the Black Soul, had the real expertise; after all, the Guild of Light prided itself on purity, and bloodline powers were riddled with taboos.

“If we use a slot for an outsider, at least our rivals will have one less talent to cultivate. It’s not a loss,” Lord Kong remarked.

“You’re right, my lord.” The old man agreed immediately.

“Go now, and give those youngsters some proper guidance.” Lord Kong waved dismissively, his interest fading. In truth, Tang Tian intrigued him most. The other five were outstanding talents, the best in Starwind City and up to the Guild’s standards, but he had seen many such prodigies before—there was nothing remarkable about them. Tang Tian, on the other hand, was surrounded by mystery.

With his greatest curiosity gone, his interest waned.

“Yes, my lord!” the old man replied.

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Tang Tian was drenched in sweat.

He was tunneling through a narrow passage. His ten fingers, like hooks wreathed in flame, whirled about as swift as the wind, and the mist wall before him vanished at a rate visible to the naked eye. Having mastered “Starlit Sky,” the finishing move of the Fragmented Shadow Palm, Tang Tian immediately switched to the Eagle Claw Technique. Its efficiency far outstripped the palm technique; it was simply perfect for digging and burrowing.

Following Bing’s directions, Tang Tian burrowed a deep tunnel.

The entrance was barely wide enough for him alone, with Bing floating behind him.

Fortunately, the moment Chrono Sand Mist was separated from the mist wall, it vanished, saving him the trouble of hauling it away like ordinary earth.

With a new goal, Tang Tian was full of drive, his claws working like the wind, advancing like a tireless mole.

“I am a little mole, a digging little mole, I dig my tunnel with strength, so strong, so strong…” he sang as he worked.

Tang Tian’s Eagle Claw Technique improved rapidly. He began to wonder if its creator hadn’t intended it for excavating purposes all along. His technique grew ever more formidable—copper claws, iron hooks, astonishing force.

With a flick of his wrist, all five fingers would sink into the mist wall, and with a pull, a huge clump of sand mist would come away. If this struck flesh, it would rip off a chunk, skin and all. Even Tang Tian, tough-minded as he was, felt a chill—he’d have to stay sharp when fighting anyone proficient in this art.

On the ninth day—

Suddenly, his fingertips struck something impossibly hard. Pain shot through his fingers, and he couldn’t help but grunt.

“We’re here,” Bing’s monotone came from behind.

Those two words fell on Tang Tian’s ears like a heavenly chorus. His spirits soared; the pain vanished, and, sweating profusely, he threw back his head and laughed. “Ha! I truly am a god-like youth! Two kilometers—two kilometers! And I chewed right through them! Oh, not even the Chrono Sand Mist can stop me!”

He brushed away the thin layer of mist, revealing a smooth, flat surface.

“Is this… a door?” Tang Tian asked excitedly.

Bing confirmed.

With victory in sight, Tang Tian was beside himself with excitement and energy.

A mysterious, ancient, sealed recruit training camp!

Oh, just the sound of it sent a thrill through him—it had to be an extraordinary place!

The treasure vault’s gate was about to open before him!

Unable to contain his excitement, Tang Tian began clearing the mist from the door. After half a day, he had exposed an area over nine meters high and fifteen or twenty meters wide. The black door was now visible, but its sheer size far exceeded his expectations.

It took him an entire day to clear the whole door.

When at last he stood before the majestic black gate—twelve meters high, nearly thirty meters wide—Tang Tian was left speechless with awe.

Set into the black door were four gemstones, unmistakably the insignia of the Southern Cross.

The four jewels shone like real stars, dazzling in their brilliance.

Bing lifted his blank white face to gaze at the black door. At some point, two streaks of tears had appeared on that featureless face.