wear it lord god

Chapter 2713 Demonic Cultivator: My Banner Remains the Same (Part 9)
I exceeded my target today, and I can finally go back to my dorm and sleep peacefully.

As soon as I arrived at the dormitory entrance, I saw my roommates bustling about, each packing their things.

The bed was now just a bare bed frame, and the desk and wardrobe underneath had been ransacked.

Girls always have a lot of belongings. They pack their clothes and books into storage bags as if they were preparing for the end of the world, making it look like a great escape.

Upon seeing Xi Ning enter, the roommates all stopped in their tracks. One of them even instinctively shrank back, his face showing a look of horror, as if he had encountered some ferocious beast.

Xi Ning frowned and asked in confusion, "Where are you all going?"

The roommates looked at each other with strange and evasive expressions. After stammering for a while, one of them finally whispered, "My home is nearby, and my family wants me to go back to live there."

"Me too."

"Me too."

Goodness, they're all like copy-pasted posts, all saying "Me too."

Wait a minute, none of these three are locals, not even the original owner of this body.

The college is located in such a remote place with mountains and water. Even if there were residents, they would have moved away long ago. So where does the idea of ​​"being close to home" come from?
She looked at the remaining two: "And you two? Do you also live nearby?"

One of the girls cleared her throat and looked up at the ceiling: "Ahem, something happened at home. My great-uncle passed away, and I have to go back for the funeral. They're waiting for me to go back and preside over the funeral rites!"

Xining's gaze shifted to the next person. Could it be that someone in their family had died and they were going back for a funeral?
The girl being stared at instantly turned pale, her legs trembled uncontrollably, and sweat streamed down her face.

Suddenly, she clutched her stomach, bent over, and screamed, "Ouch, my stomach hurts! It hurts so much, I have to go to the hospital!"

"I'll go with you!" A roommate immediately stepped forward to help, and the others rushed over, some supporting her arms, others simply lifting her legs, afraid of being a step too slow.

"Ah—put me down!" The girl screamed as she was lifted up so high that her feet barely touched the ground, and was "carried" out of the dormitory like a piece of cargo by the crowd.

Outside the dormitory, people from other dormitories were peeking in this direction, but as soon as they saw her, they immediately shrank back like startled turtles, even slamming the door shut.

Xi Ning looked back at the empty dormitory and shook her head with a wry smile: When did she become someone that people feared?

Oh, by the way, her current identity is that of a demonic cultivator.

"Fine, let her go if she wants. It'll give her some peace and quiet." Xi Ning yawned and went to sleep.

The alarm clock rang on time the next morning.

Xining woke up in her empty "alone" dormitory, where she was the only one. After getting dressed, she habitually prepared to go for a run on the playground.

As she ran, she suddenly slapped her forehead: Didn't she have a magical artifact? Why was she wasting her energy running?
So she summoned her banner... and before everyone's eyes, a banner emanating black mist appeared.

After the command "Lie down!" was given, the banner floated horizontally, half a meter off the ground.

She carefully placed one foot on the support pole behind the banner: "Fly slowly."

The banners obediently flew steadily forward.

Hehe, it actually works. After thinking for a moment, she gave the order: "Fly slowly around the track."

The flag obediently followed instructions, turning when it was time to turn, and maintaining a steady speed.

After adjusting her speed several times, she finally mastered the technique of flying the flag, completed eight laps around the track, and collected eight stamps. Looking at the eight new stamps on her stamp card, she was overjoyed. Once she opened up a new route, eight stamps were easily obtained. Tomorrow she'd speed up a bit more; at this rate, she'd finish the rest of the races in a few days.

She's probably the first person in the academy to fly using the banner. This banner is so useful; the original owner is really too conservative and doesn't understand innovation at all.

On her way to class on the west campus, Xining pondered how to collect more living souls to complete the task of the Hundred-Man Banner.

As we were about to pass by the cemetery, I saw two classmates, Ghost Cultivator and Puppet Cultivator, standing there, looking around anxiously with blank expressions.

She went over and asked, "What's wrong?"

The ghost cultivator, his face contorted with grief, pointed to the vast graveyard filled with mounds of earth: "It's gone! My ghost is gone!"

Uh, I hope I didn't accidentally collect someone else's ghost last night.

She blinked, finding it somewhat unlikely, and asked with feigned composure, "Shouldn't your ghost be kept in a storage bag?"

The ghost cultivator was on the verge of tears: "Last night it said it wanted to cultivate with its zombie puppet. Last night happened to be a full moon night, and the yin energy was very heavy, which was suitable for breathing exercises in the graveyard to absorb the essence of the full moon."

"My puppet is gone too. No, I have to dig it out of the coffin where it usually lies." The puppet cultivator was also anxious. He didn't care that zombies didn't like the sun during the day. He strode into the graveyard, walked to a grave, took out a shovel from his storage bag, and began to dig the grave with all his might.

Xining...

The timing is right. It seems that I really have captured their ghosts and puppets!
This cemetery looks huge, but there are so few ghosts, and even fewer zombies. It must be a barren wasteland.

She felt incredibly guilty and quickly left. I really wanted to tell her to stop looking and find someone else as soon as possible, so as not to interfere with her studies.

But how could she dare say that out loud? If someone asked why, she couldn't very well tell them the truth: "Your graduation theses are floating in my soul banner with Professor Qi Xiu."

During class, the professor teaching internal alchemy asked, "Has everyone registered for the competition? The registration deadline is approaching."

The competition? Xi Ning blinked, took out her phone, opened the school's website, and then remembered.

To encourage students to work hard, there is a competition every semester.

In fact, in order to pick out the good talents that have been overlooked, some students, although of average talent, often grow very quickly because of their hard work or because their families are rich and can provide them with a lot of resources.

The competition makes these findings quickly. Furthermore, with rankings in place, schools have a reason to allocate resources more equitably through prizes, preventing other students from raising objections.

However, the original owner never dared to participate in the competition. With only a few pitiful souls in her banner, by the time she was about to graduate, she could barely gather ten people to barely get her graduation certificate.

Taking a banner to fight is tantamount to signing a death warrant, even though the registration form clearly states the danger and the possibility of death. But what if they manage to recruit those promising talents with innate divine bodies, the professors' "inner disciples"? Wouldn't those professors be furious?

But she wasn't the original owner of the body, so she didn't care about such things. In the cultivation world, the weak are vulnerable to attack, and when the enemy arrives, it means death.

Xi Ning stroked her chin, pondering, and couldn't help but smile sinisterly. "Look how dedicated I am. A demonic cultivator should act like one. The mission is important, but dedication comes first."

Pick up your phone, register online, click to confirm, and it's all done in one go!
He was already planning his "harvesting strategy" during the match.

As soon as the bell rang, the swordsmanship professor in charge of competition registration walked in.

This professor has been wearing ancient costumes for years, with his waist-length black hair half tied up high and half casually draped down, secured with a jade hairpin, displaying his ancient charm and dashing demeanor.

His back was ramrod straight, with a simple, ancient-looking sword slung across his shoulder. At this point, going to the filming location wouldn't even require makeup or a change of clothes.

It is said that he is over fifty years old, but still has a handsome face and looks no more than twenty years old. His cultivation has reached the early stage of Golden Core.