Bombarding Cultivators with Cluster Artillery

"You are too kind, everyone."

As many Foundation-building Cultivators respectfully bowed and greeted him, Jiang Ding walked through them and took a seat just below the seat of honor.

In the Cultivation World, one cannot afford such deference in these matters.

If you yield, they will take an inch and ask for a mile, unashamedly assuming that you are in decline, inviting more tests and troubles.

Although not afraid, it is unnecessary.

He slightly closed his eyes, entering a semi-cultivation state.

Only then did Lei Linghe and the others stand up, looking around. They could see the relief in each other's eyes, as well as a deep sense of unwillingness.

Half-step Golden Core Combat Power!

Such a person, and so young, his status is only below that of the two Patriarchs now.

Truly a case of the name matching the reality!

This term of address as Uncle-Master, no matter what one thinks inside, must be said out loud.

"Zhou Kunlong and I were born in the wrong era," Lei Linghe sighed to an old friend using Divine Sense transmission.

Inside the Sect Main Hall, the silence was profound and solemn, so quiet one could hear a pin drop. Occasional sound waves from Divine Sense transmission flickered and vanished, until at last, the silence became absolute.

"Elder Supreme, present!"

"Patriarch Zhou, present!"

Lei Linghe announced loudly, his voice carrying for miles.

Jiang Ding opened his eyes, and on the main seat above the Sect Main Hall, there now sat an elder with white eyebrows and a middle-aged man with a wild aura, their faint Golden Pill Deterrence spreading out involuntarily, causing everyone to hold their breath.

"Little Junior Brother, although we have sent messages to each other, it's been twenty-five years since we last met, hasn't it?"

The elder with white eyebrows blinked, using Divine Sense to transmit his voice, also feeling somewhat emotional.

In just twenty-five years, the mortal child he had brought back had grown to Mid-stage Foundation Building with Combat Power enough to oppress a plethora of Foundation-builders.

It was enough to evoke feelings of how the oceans turn to mulberry fields and how unpredictable the affairs of the world can be.

"Thank you, Senior Brother, for your care over these years," Jiang Ding replied with a slight smile, using Divine Sense transmission.

"And thanks to Second Brother for the generous gift, it has benefited me greatly over the years," he greeted Zhou Sanyan briefly as well.

"It's nothing, just some trifles," Huomai Jin Dan Zhou Sanyan said grandly.

Lei Linghe led the Sect Foundation-builders to form a neat queue, all kneeling together.

"We greet the Elder Supreme!"

"We greet Patriarch Zhou!"

The Foundation-builders knelt with their knees together, bowed their heads to the ground, hands crossed beneath their foreheads, showing their utmost respect.

Jiang Ding's expression remained calm as he sat serenely in his seat.

He was a fellow disciple with the Qiyu Golden Core, and besides the Immortal Jinlian, the previous Elder Supreme who had died many years ago, he needed to pay his respects to no one.

In his heart, he did not much care for the practice of kowtowing to other Cultivators.

Yet, when spoken of properly, it was indeed fitting.

Despite being referred to as Uncle-Masters by others outside, these Foundation-builders had all been watched over by the two Golden Core from childhood to now. To receive such a kneeling tribute from juniors was not at all improper due to their status as elders.

"My disciples, please rise," the elder with white eyebrows gestured with his sleeve, and the Foundation-builders felt a gentle force pulling them up, involuntarily standing before bowing again and standing respectfully in the hall.

"Ancestor Master Immortal Qiyu, three thousand years ago had the fortune to establish our Sect," he began slowly, falling into recollection.

"He left behind a treasure known as the Nine Apertures Golden Spirit Tree, which bears fruit every nine hundred years. Once picked, it is sealed within the Sect's forbidden ground, and every four hundred fifty years, it is unveiled, awarding one disciple the fruit in kind recognition."

"This is our Ancestor Master's profound love for his disciples."

The elder with white eyebrows continued, his voice reflecting a degree of reminiscence.

It is said that when the Ancestor Master Immortal Qiyu was alive, he set the rule for the disciples to strive for four or five Golden Core Fruits based on merit, talent, and competition in spellcasting.

After the Ancestor Master's passing, the number of fruits that disciples could vie for steadily decreased from four or five every four to five hundred years, to two or three, and now, there's only one left.

This piece of history has gradually become known only to the Sect's Golden Pill Monks.

"As time goes by, another four hundred fifty years have passed, and my disciples must not forget the hardships faced by the Ancestor Master in paving the way for us with his modest beginnings."

The elder with white eyebrows spoke softly.

"We, as disciples, will never dare to forget," Lei Linghe, Zhou Kunlong, Li Qingyun, and the others declared in unison, their hearts stirred, some with moistened eyes, seemingly remembering the Ancestor Master's arduous journey of accumulating Spirit Stones one by one.

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'This is the ideological heritage of the Qiyu Sect.'

Jiang Ding silently watched.

No one would pretend to see through this charade in front of a Golden Pill Monk.

Even Zhou Kunlong, sinister and cunning, disregarding other people's lives, held allegiance to their sect, the place where he had grown up and lived for countless years.

Although, after a long consideration, it was not beyond sacrifice, but it was still there.

"Hahaha!"

"Brother Zhou, Brother Li, why didn't you invite me to this gathering? Did you think I was too drunk after downing three thousand catties of Spiritual Liquor?"

From outside the Sect Main Hall came a thunderous laugh, full of vigor, not waiting for any response before barging in.

Many Foundation-building Cultivators, shocked and pulling themselves out of their nostalgic emotions for the Ancestor Master, looked towards the source of the overwhelming, mountain-like pressure.

A burly man with a bird head, his crown adorned with seven-colored plume feathers.

And a charming and plump woman with three fluffy, fiery-red tails behind her flew into the main hall, followed by General Moyu and Princess Chiyuan, who moved forward with fierce and oppressive might.

"Greetings to King Chiyan!"

"Greetings to King Kong Que!"

Lei Linghe Li Qingyun and others, as though facing two smashing mountains, scrambled aside in haste, fearing that any mistake could reduce them to a crumb powder.

They respectfully saluted only from a considerable distance.

The Demon Cultivators were undoubtedly beings with formidable bodies, capable even of withstanding attacks from the artifacts of Cultivators at the same level. For lower-level Cultivators, it was indeed like a divine mountain rolling over them, no exaggeration.

Jiang Ding's gaze flickered as he looked towards the two newly arrived demons.

Information about the Qiyu Sect surfaced in his mind for comparison with his own observations.

The plump lady with the three fluffy, fiery-red tails was the ruler of Tushan Monster Country, King Chiyan, a late Golden Core demon adept in relentless fire element spells and also strong in close combat.

King Kong Que was the bird-headed burly man with a seven-colored crown. He was at the early Golden Pill stage with a specialty in the Five-Colored Divine Light, said to absorb anything, particularly countering long-range attacks from artifacts.

Under the raging Golden Pill Deterrence, many Foundation-building Cultivators bowed their heads.

Still maintaining composure were three individuals.

Cultivator Baimei, Zhou Sanyan, and a youth in blue clothes sat quietly in their original spots, watching them without betraying their thoughts.

Others trembled incessantly under the deliberate terror and death aura exuded by the Golden Core demons, almost suffocating.

"Oh?"

The Demon Race had a strict hierarchy, and King Kong Que instantly took displeasure.

A sinister light flashed in his bird eyes, abandoning the direct route and circling around to come face to face with the seated youth in blue clothes, giving a cold smile.

"Who's this young one? Didn't your parents teach you manners?"

"How dare you block this great king?"

Roar!

In the vagueness, a terrifying aura took shape, filled with the wails of thousands of beasts and mortal Vital Souls, all pressing down on the youth in blue clothes.

Sufficient to disorient the minds of Foundation-building Peak Cultivators, induce hallucinations, or even cause severe Divine Soul injuries under the impact of Divine Sense and death aura, severing their path of cultivation.

"King Kong Que, my mother educated me very well," Jiang Ding replied with a faint smile.

His eyes were calm and clear, extremely friendly.

"Seeking death!"

King Kong Que flew into a rage, his face turned violently, his claw wrapped in Five-Colored Divine Light, and struck down.

Boom!

The Sect's Big Array roared into action, clouds stirring across several tens of kilometers, thunder patterns forming in the sky—an exceedingly fearsome phenomenon at the Golden Core level emerged instantly, stirring the Heavenly Earth Spiritual Qi into unrest.

King Chiyan's complexion changed.

King Kong Que's hand, about to touch Jiang Ding's head, stiffened.

Looking around, Cultivator Baimei was quietly observing the scene, a multicolored Seven-Line Stele appearing behind him, radiating light, its fearsome aura fluctuating between that of a Top-grade Magic Treasure and a superior artifact.

Qiyu Sect's treasured heritage, the Seven-Line Stele!

Next to Cultivator Baimei, Zhou Sanyan held aloft the Flame Mountain Magical Treasure, equally silent, his middle Jindan stage deterrence flickering in and out of visibility.

Artifacts and Cultivators.

Under such concentrated pressure, King Chiyan was coping, but the early Golden Core King Kong Que was like being suppressed by a series of mountains, his mana sluggish, and a clear sense of imminent, deadly danger rising in his mind.

His heart turned cold, and chills ran down his spine.

"Haha!"

With a loud laugh, King Kong Que casually dusted off his left claw, brushing through the air in front of Jiang Ding, and praised, "The Qiyu Swordsman truly deserves his renown, a meeting surpassing hearsay, indeed better than my own son by quite a bit."

"You flatter me," Jiang Ding responded with a slight smile, extremely polite.

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