My Golden Core is a Star, do you call this cultivating?

Qi Yuan continued, “Of course, this mystical land doesn’t compare to the Sixth Heaven itself. Practicing the Ancestral Blood Art here is at least a hundred times slower—I can’t even exploit the usual loopholes to speed things up.”

Casting these thoughts aside, Qi Yuan settled into a more comfortable position, fixing his gaze through the gaps in the landscape toward the distant Ten Thousand Souls Banner.

Other cultivators would be unable to see the banner from so far away. But Qi Yuan was different—his strength and perceptive abilities gave him an unparalleled advantage.

Immediately, a flow of information appeared in his mind.

[Ten Thousand Souls Banner: An offensive extraordinary treasure linked to Ghost Extinguishing Sovereign…]

“More useless information. I’m looking for vulnerabilities or ways to enter, not this,” Qi Yuan muttered, quickly dismissing the message.

Finding nothing the first day was unsurprising.

“Fortunately, there are still plenty of miracle treasures to analyze—time spent learning a new skill is time well-spent.”

Qi Yuan refocused on the miracle treasures around him, letting his thoughts drift. Soon, a method known as the Small Cyclone Molding Technique appeared in his mind.

As the name suggested, the technique stabilized miracle treasures, making them more resilient.

Crafting miracle treasures involved intricate processes like material selection, hammering, forging, molding, pattern-setting, and so on.

Time passed quickly, and before he knew it, nine months had gone by.

In the outside world, not even a full day had passed.

Qi Yuan’s eyes sparkled with satisfaction.

“After observing the Ten Thousand Souls Banner so many times, I’ve finally detected a few weaknesses. Not bad at all.”

However, merely discovering these vulnerabilities wasn’t enough to allow him to slip into the Ghost Pass unnoticed. And Qi Yuan’s ambitions went even further; he wanted not just to infiltrate the Ghost Pass but to claim it entirely and transform it into his very own Human Sovereign Banner.

“Today’s fortune is excellent. I’ve even managed to fully master the Mysterious Wind Forging Method. Too bad I don’t have the right materials on hand. If I did, I’d certainly showcase my skills.”

“Once I return to Blue Star, I could make counterfeit phones with this technique, sell them online, and earn a fortune!” Qi Yuan mused with a smile.

Life in Heaven Earth Mystical Land was, for now, pleasantly tranquil.

Just then, a young boy came over, carrying a bowl of food wrapped in leaves similar to sticky rice dumplings.

“Sir, this is from my mother,” the boy said. He was around twelve or thirteen years old and looked somewhat malnourished.

The boy’s name was Stone Pan, a native of Heaven Earth Mystical Land.

Living conditions here were challenging. Many locals were homeless, constantly migrating and struggling to survive.

Stone Pan’s mother, whom Qi Yuan had met briefly, was a gentle woman whose weariness couldn’t conceal her delicate features.

Stone Pan’s father was a cultivator who had come to Heaven Earth Mystical Land in search of treasure—a man who treasured “freedom.” He’d left after fathering a child, only to meet his end soon afterward.

A group of refugees had settled close to Qi Yuan’s area about three months prior.

Firstly, Qi Yuan was a formidable cultivator, and his presence discouraged any ill-intentioned cultivators from causing trouble. Secondly, he seemed kind-hearted.

These refugees held both gratitude and fear for him.

Qi Yuan accepted the dumpling, unwrapping the large bamboo leaves, which released a fragrance of fresh greens.

“Not bad, you’re even able to eat meat now,” Qi Yuan noted, biting into the dumpling.

The dumpling was filled with a large portion of fresh, tender meat—quite different from Blue Star’s heavily seasoned pre-packaged ones.

“This is all thanks to you, sir. Without your presence, we wouldn’t have…” Stone Pan’s voice faded as he looked up at Qi Yuan with an expression full of hope.

The boy couldn’t see Qi Yuan’s face beneath the dark cloak, but he was clearly in awe of him. The boy’s gaze held more than mere admiration; he seemed to be hoping for something, perhaps even wanting to be taken in as a disciple.

Such a prospect could save him from this life of hardship and might even protect his mother and family.

“Sir, my mother made this robe for you. If it doesn’t fit, please feel free to use it however you wish,” Stone Pan said, offering a handmade robe with a mixture of hope and unease.

Qi Yuan didn’t reach for the robe.

“I appreciate the thought, but I don’t need the robe,” he said plainly.

Stone Pan’s face fell with disappointment.

“I’m a direct person,” Qi Yuan continued. “I understand what’s going through your minds, but I already have a partner.”

He wasn’t interested in leading others on with false hopes.

Within this group of refugees, Stone Pan’s mother was likely the most attractive, enough to have once caught the attention of a powerful cultivator.

While it might seem absurd for her to desire Qi Yuan’s favor, he respected her feelings enough to reject her directly, rather than disregarding her entirely as a “higher being” might do.

Stone Pan’s disappointment was palpable.

“Come on now,” Qi Yuan said casually, “you wouldn’t really want a new dad, would you? This is a good outcome.”

“If it were you, sir, I’d gladly have a second father,” Stone Pan replied with childish sincerity.

Qi Yuan chuckled, reminded of the young Chen Huan, who’d almost tried to take him as a godfather.

“Please, no. I’m still young; I’m not ready to be a father,” Qi Yuan said with amusement.

Stone Pan’s hope dwindled, but it quickly faded. “Sir, tonight is Soul Patrol Night. It’s dangerous outside, even for the cultivators who usually avoid the Wind Caves.”

At the mention of Soul Patrol Night, Stone Pan’s face grew fearful.

Each year, the Soul Patrol brought an army of spirits to the skies, seeking the living.

“Oh, is that happening today? Time really flies,” Qi Yuan replied, seemingly unfazed. In truth, the presence of these souls intrigued him.

“Please be careful, sir. Most of the other cultivators will be hiding in nearby Wind Caves tonight,” Stone Pan reminded him earnestly.

“Got it, got it. You go on and get your things together for the Wind Cave,” Qi Yuan replied casually.

He had no intention of hiding; he intended to stay right where he was to observe the souls.

However, he didn’t share this with Stone Pan, knowing it would spark a wave of pleading and persuasion.

Clutching his mother’s robe, Stone Pan backed away.

Once again, Qi Yuan was left alone in this corner of the mystical land.

“Time to resume my forging practice,” he muttered, continuing to hone his techniques or crafting new additions to the Qi Yuan Scriptures.

Time slipped by, and before he knew it, night had fallen.

The land grew eerily still.

Even the chirping of insects had vanished.

It felt as if he were standing in an isolated wasteland.

The chilly night air made Qi Yuan yawn. “Perfect weather for a nap.”

A spectral fog rose, filling the air with an eerie chill.

Qi Yuan lay back on his icy reclining chair, entirely at ease.

Just then, a cultivator rushed by in a streak of light. “Friend, hurry! The Soul Patrol will start soon—quick, find a Wind Cave!” the passerby warned, disappearing into the nearest Wind Cave.

Qi Yuan remained calm.

With the Netherworld in his Purple Mansion, he had no reason to fear souls.

If anything, the souls should fear him!

If they dared approach, he’d trap them within the Human Sovereign Banner for a long-overdue ethical transformation—free labor for eternity.

About a hundred breaths later, the air darkened further.

Absolute silence fell across the land.

Everywhere he looked, black smoke drifted from the ground.

The silence shattered as rhythmic footsteps echoed through the night.

Tap… tap… tap…

It sounded like an army of spectral soldiers marching from the underworld.

Each figure wore broken armor stained with blood, their bodies battered, their eyes vacant.

They moved aimlessly, like lost souls with no home to return to.

“Soul… no home…” they murmured, their voices laden with sorrow and desolation.

[Eroded Specters of an Ancient Battlefield: Souls of warriors who died defending the border. With a homeland in ruins, their souls roam without rest.]

A flood of information filled Qi Yuan’s mind, reminding him of the voice he’d heard from the Mysterious Jade Bell—the same voice that had conveyed a letter from a soldier’s family.

If these specters were indeed the same, then the warriors on the front lines had lost that long-ago battle. With their lands ravaged, all had perished.

“Even if they had won, it wouldn’t have mattered… in the end, everyone perished anyway,” Qi Yuan sighed.

As he gazed upon the spectral soldiers, their empty eyes turned toward him, anger beginning to glimmer within.

Then, a sneering voice called out.

“Soul Patrol Night, and you dared remain outside. You’ve sealed your fate!”

Qi Yuan looked toward the source—a lavish palanquin trailing the ghostly army.

From within, a haughty voice sneered, evidently accustomed to flaunting authority.

Qi Yuan raised an eyebrow. “This land isn’t your personal property. Do you have a deed? Why shouldn’t I stay here?”

“Make no mistake—in Heaven Earth Mystical Land, the Holy Light Clan is king!” The voice from the palanquin was both domineering and insolent. “Dare to talk back? When you should have bowed before me? Your body and soul will be sustenance for my ghost servants!”

At the speaker’s command, hundreds of specters surged toward Qi Yuan, their terrifying energy blanketing the area in dread.

“Heh, even myths would fall before my ghost servants,” the palanquin occupant gloated. “Boy, in the next life, don’t mess with me!”

The specters’ empty eyes glowed a sinister red as they charged, closing in around Qi Yuan.

Unperturbed, Qi Yuan merely lay there. As the ghostly horde approached, he spoke calmly:

“I am your commanding officer. How dare you think of harming me?”

As he spoke, he activated the Great Forgetting Sutra for a “righteous transformation.”

His voice seemed to carry an inexplicable power, causing the spectral soldiers to hesitate, confusion flickering in their hollow gazes.

The figure within the palanquin noticed the specters’ hesitation, his expression shifting to one of shock. He quickly called out, “What are you all doing? Strike him down!”

Frantically, he shook a bell in his hand, its eerie chime ringing out. The specters’ eyes grew vacant again, and they resumed their march toward Qi Yuan, now intent on killing him. Their combined force was enough to obliterate any ordinary cultivator, perhaps even a Heaven Rank Yang God would struggle against their power in this mystical land (since they get supressed to Myth rank).

The figure in the palanquin sneered, his confidence returning as he watched the army close in on Qi Yuan. In the Sixth Heaven, he might have been a mere Purple Palace cultivator of no great importance, but here, in the Heaven Earth Mystical Land, even Yang Gods had fallen before him. He relished the power he wielded over the specters.

But in the next moment, his triumphant smirk faltered.

Without any warning, a dark, cloaked figure appeared inside his palanquin. The stranger held the bell, examining it with a curious glint in his eye.

“So, it’s this little bell you’re using to control them?”

The specter-controller’s face twisted in terror. “You—how did you get in here?”

After all, even a god would be hard-pressed to bypass the wrathful ghost army outside. The thought that someone could avoid the specters altogether and appear beside him was beyond his comprehension.

“You… you can’t kill me! I’m a holy envoy of the Holy Light Clan, and this bell was bestowed upon me by my master!” he stammered in desperation. “If you harm me, the Clan will not rest until you’re destroyed! Do you have any idea of the power of the Holy Light Clan?”

“I really hate being threatened, and by the way, don’t put on airs you can’t back up. You might just get struck by lightning,” Qi Yuan said, his voice low.

Without further ado, Qi Yuan struck, his fingers crackling with violet lightning as he pressed them onto the man’s chest. A faint sizzle of energy later, the so-called holy envoy was no more.

Qi Yuan picked up the bell, now fully intrigued by it, and turned his gaze to the specters still advancing toward him.

"Bold of you all. I am your commanding officer—do you truly not recognize me?" he declared, channeling the Great Forgetting Sutra once again, deepening its hold on the specters.

Strangely, his voice carried an inexplicable pull, making the specters falter, confusion lingering in their hollow eyes. With the holy envoy’s bell no longer in play, the sutra’s power increased, further breaking through their clouded minds.

"Remember," Qi Yuan intoned, "I once stood with you, defending the frontier against endless invasions. Or have you forgotten?"

His words struck the specters like a spell. Their empty eyes began to glimmer with something almost like recognition. The silence thickened, then broke as the ghostly army dropped to one knee.

“Greetings, Commander!” their voices echoed hollowly, their eyes shining with renewed vigor.

“That’s more like it,” Qi Yuan replied, satisfied. He raised his hand to reveal a tattered yet powerful banner. “For our cause, the path forward requires commitment. Join me in the Human Sovereign Banner, and together, we’ll march toward victory.”

He watched as the spectral soldiers gazed at his banner with awe, their soulless eyes flickering with a spark of long-forgotten loyalty. Each of them looked ready to pledge allegiance with unrestrained fervor.

“Not yet. First, the chains that bind you to these sinister forces must be broken,” Qi Yuan added, observing the traces of corruption in their spiritual forms.

He suspected the chains had been placed by the very Holy Light master who had bestowed the bell upon the specter-controller. Until the bonds were broken, the souls could not fully enter the Human Sovereign Banner without risk of corrupting it.

Qi Yuan addressed them again, his voice steady and commanding. “You’ve made the right choice in following me. Opportunities are hard to come by. Like elite positions in a kingdom, some paths are only open to those with fortune, power… or luck.”

He eyed the spectral soldiers, giving a wry smile. “It’s safe to say that, having reached this state, luck may not be on your side. But that’s where I come in.”

The specters immediately stood ready, awaiting his orders.

“Now, rally the others still wandering these lands. Bring back our comrades, and soon we will make our grand march!”

Moved by his words, the specters scattered into the mist to locate their lost brethren. Qi Yuan watched them leave with a pleased look in his eyes.

“This place is an unexpected boon. I might just transform the Human Sovereign Banner into a true offensive treasure at this rate,” he murmured to himself, a surge of anticipation bubbling up within him.

Elsewhere, deep inside the Wind Caves, the refugees huddled in fearful silence, a dim candle casting long, trembling shadows along the walls.

Stone Pan clung tightly to his mother, his face a mixture of worry and determination. Outside, the occasional sound of ghostly wails drifted in, enough to send chills down their spines.

The elderly man, his voice quavering, spoke up. “I remember my grandfather telling me… once, these soul patrols were a blessing, a ritual to protect us from lurking spirits. Now, they’ve become harbingers of death.”

Heads nodded solemnly around him. Once, the soul patrol had been a revered night of protection and honor, and now it was a night of terror.

In the corner, Stone Pan worked up the courage to speak to one of the visiting cultivators. “Sir, by any chance, did you see a man in a dark cloak outside… he didn’t enter any of the Wind Caves, did he?”