Chapter Fifty-Eight: Mount Martial God

Inside the wooden cabin where Sesler resided, the frail old man with a white long brow and black robe looked somewhat nervous. His emerald, unsettling eyes widened in astonishment as he gazed at Qiankun. “Lord Qiankun, do you mean to ask me for an undead inheritance?”

“Why, is there a problem?” Qiankun replied. “I know that practicing necromancy places high demands on the soul, but I believe I am capable of learning it.”

Sesler hastily shook his head. “No, no, Lord Qiankun, that’s not what I meant. I can certainly help you with the undead inheritance, but you’re already a god-level powerhouse. Is it really worth your time to study necromancy?”

“It’s just curiosity! Old man, why are you so verbose? I need your help with the undead inheritance, so just do as I ask,” Qiankun said, impatience in his voice.

Sesler dared not say another word and hurriedly nodded. “Very well, Lord Qiankun. If you wish to proceed, I must first make some preparations.”

“Be quick! Don’t waste my time. My time is extremely valuable,” Qiankun said, sitting down on a nearby chair.

“Valuable time, yet he’s willing to waste it on studying necromancy out of boredom?” Sesler grumbled inwardly, but outwardly he maintained a serious expression as he quickly arranged a rather complex magic array within the cabin. He then said to Qiankun, “Lord Qiankun, please sit cross-legged at the center of this array.”

Qiankun nodded, stood up, and sat cross-legged within the array. Sesler began chanting incantations, and a dense aura of death slowly emanated from his body. Suddenly, a gray-black mist appeared, quickly enshrouding the entire array, the aura of death growing even thicker.

Soon, Qiankun felt an intangible ripple of rules descend upon him—the wave of death’s law. At the same time, a stream of profound information surged into his mind. The undead inheritance had begun.

Nearly half a day passed before Qiankun had fully absorbed the entirety of the undead inheritance. Within it were various necromantic spells, extensive knowledge related to necromancy, and even information concerning the Netherworld—comprehensive and systematic.

“The undead inheritance truly is thorough!” Within the mysterious array, Qiankun slowly opened his eyes, a smile playing at his lips as he murmured his praise.

Outside the cabin, hearing the door open, Sesler turned and hurried to greet him. “Lord Qiankun, that was so fast! Did you not receive the full undead inheritance?”

“Of course it was complete. Perhaps, as a god-level powerhouse, my soul is strong enough to assimilate it quickly!” Qiankun replied with a smile.

Sesler nodded in dawning realization but couldn’t help adding, “Lord Qiankun, now that you have received the undead inheritance, you must be aware of how difficult necromancy is to master. Even for one of your strength, achieving mastery in necromantic magic is no easy feat.”

“Thank you for the warning, but I know what I’m doing. As I said, this is just a matter of interest,” Qiankun said with a faint smile. “Sesler, thank you for your help. I owe you a favor. If there’s ever anything you need that I can assist with, just say the word.”

Sesler was momentarily stunned, then shook his head. “What I desire most is to become a Holy Magus of the Undead, but that’s not something anyone else can help with—it’s up to my own comprehension and cultivation. For now, Lord Qiankun, I can’t think of anything I need from you.”

“Then we’ll see in the future. In any case, I don’t plan to leave the Yulan Plane for some time,” Qiankun said casually with a nod. He then went to greet Hog and Linley before departing.

Leaving Yunfeng Town, Qiankun headed straight for the Land of Chaos, making his way to a micro-plane space outside the city of Mudseal.

Within the secret chamber of the micro-plane, Qiankun’s four divine clones—of earth, water, fire, and light—were each meditating separately, comprehending the laws of their respective elements. Several years passed in this way; although these four divine clones had not reached mid-godhood like the wind clone, they had already attained significant understanding of their elements. From the outset, Qiankun had them attempt to fuse the profound mysteries of the laws, and the results were promising.

While Qiankun only fully comprehended the most basic mysteries for each of the four elements, in the process of grasping others, he had already begun experimenting with fusing two, three, or even four mysteries. Because he focused so much on fusion, he hadn’t quickly mastered a second mystery for any element to reach mid-god status.

With his wind clone, Qiankun entered the micro-plane’s secret chamber, leaving the wind clone to continue refining its understanding of wind laws, while his original self began to study necromancy.

At Qiankun’s level, mastering all necromancies from first through ninth rank, even those at the Saint-level, was not difficult. After learning all the necromantic spells, he began to contemplate the mysteries of the law of death.

As his understanding deepened, Qiankun gradually realized that the law of death—like the law of fate—was intimately connected to the soul, with certain similarities between them. When meditating, the mysteries of death and fate would collide in his mind, accelerating his progress in both. As his insights grew, he also began to discern the points where the two laws could blend together.

Thus, in this state of secluded cultivation, time flew by, and several years passed. Qiankun first achieved godhood in the law of death, and soon thereafter in the law of fate as well. Leaving behind his avatars of death and fate to continue their cultivation, Qiankun’s original self decided to step outside for a breath of fresh air.

On the fourth of February, Year 10009 of the Yulan calendar, in the imperial capital of the O’Brien Empire, Chiyan City, a grand duel was about to commence at the Arena of Martial Combat. The combatants were two peerless geniuses: Brumer, the War God’s newly accepted personal disciple, and Wharton of the Dragonblood Warrior clan. The judges presiding over the match were none other than Kainian, another of the War God’s personal disciples and a Saint-level expert, and the renowned Stone Sword Saint, Hedderson, reputed to be the strongest in the Saint-level.

With such an illustrious lineup, the audience’s excitement was palpable from the very outset.

Wharton and Brumer truly lived up to their reputations as the empire’s two great prodigies—their battle was a spectacle, eventually ending with Brumer’s victory after he used a forbidden technique.

But what followed was chaos: Brumer attempted to kill Wharton, provoking Linley’s intervention and setting off a storm of Saint-level conflict.

First, Linley decisively and ruthlessly wounded Kainian. Soon after, Brumer’s elder brother, the brilliant Sword Saint Olivier, appeared, clashing fiercely with Linley. Their probing exchange electrified the entire arena.

In an inconspicuous corner, dressed in a simple black robe with hair loose around his shoulders, Qiankun stood with arms folded, smiling as he watched the intense duel between Linley and Olivier. He couldn’t help but murmur to himself, “That boy Linley—without realizing it, he’s already grown to such heights.”

Qiankun’s gaze also fell on Hog, seated near the platform. Though worried for his younger son Wharton, seeing Linley intervene, Hog refrained from revealing his own strength. Still, the duel between Linley and Olivier made Hog quietly sweat with anxiety. He had faith in Linley, but the reputation of the genius Sword Saint was formidable indeed. In truth, Olivier was as exceptional as rumored.

As the crowd dispersed, the excitement of the arena spilled over into all of Chiyan City, and tales of Linley and Olivier’s spectacular battle spread across the entire Yulan continent.

After leaving the arena, Qiankun quietly left Chiyan City as well, heading directly toward War God Mountain outside the city.

At the entrance to the cave where the War God secluded himself on War God Mountain, Qiankun arrived like a gust of wind, his figure materializing as he looked into the cave with a faint smile. His divine sense, long since penetrating the mountain, sent a message deep into the cavern: “O’Brien, come out and meet me.”

A low grunt echoed from within. Behind the dark stone gate at the cave’s depths, a magma lake stretched a hundred meters wide and long. Suspended above the lake was a fireball three meters in diameter, within which the War God O’Brien sat cross-legged, meditating on the mysteries of fire. He started suddenly, eyes snapping open, a flash of doubt and alarm in his gaze. “A god-level powerhouse? Which one is it, that came to War God Mountain and I didn’t even notice?”