A swarm of heavy artillery bombarded the cultivators.

Chapter 1052: Slaves also need to fight to become
The magic stone world, the mountain-guarding sect.

In the dark mine, Zhuzi, a seventh-level Qi training monk, was chiseling a second-level purple stone ore as big as his head.

He held a hammer and a chisel in each hand, and streams of blood-colored magic power flowed through his meridians, chiseling off pieces of gray-white ore.

He didn't know that with each fall of the stone-chiseling tool, his life force and blood essence would flow away imperceptibly and flow into the purple stone ore, completing a process similar to a ritual, improving the essence of the ore as much as possible.

The chiseling of the pillars lasted several hours.

Ding!
With a crisp sound, a thumb-sized gem emerged from it, faintly blood-colored and emitting light.

This is the finished product of purple jade.

"It's out. Brother Zhuzi came half an hour early today."

There were also dozens of human Qi-cultivating cultivators busy around, and some showed envious looks.

"Brother Zhuzi has been doing this for fifteen years, right?"

"If you work for another five years, you can go home, marry a wife and have children. You can marry thirty-six wives in a row and live a happy life! From now on, Brother Zhuzi will enjoy happiness..."

"We still have work to do. We need to pick talisman herbs. We are destined to be busy. We are not the old master who can only rest when he closes his eyes because he is afraid of death..."

"What I'm saying is that picking talisman grass is not something you can do easily. How can it be compared to mining..."

The Qi-cultivating monks around were chatting and talking amid the clanging sounds of stone chiseling. Many of them seemed to have recovered some strength through such chatting, and generated a little more blood, energy and power.

"It's still early."

Zhuzi showed a simple and honest look.

He carefully put away the purple jade stone, looked at the people around him with a little vigilance, and led him to the sect hall.

Fighting within the clan is strictly prohibited. Violators will be put to death. Very few people would steal other people's minerals.

But even if they are very rare, they still exist.

Zhuzi had heard that someone had robbed someone, and in the end the robber was punished, but the miner also died, which was really sad.

The pillar passes through various mines and walks to the cave entrance, passing by some spiritual fields, spiritual medicine gardens and the like.

He met many monks on the way, both male and female, some of whom were descendants of elders.

But everyone was the same, all were working, some were tending to elixirs, some were fiddling with spiritual fish, some were turning the soil, and people on the road were all rushing back and forth, no one was idle.

"It's good to have a Foundation Building Elder's offspring..."

Zhuzi looked enviously at the spiritual farmers who were tending to the spiritual herbs in the spiritual medicine garden. When he saw them looking at him, he quickly lowered his head.

These spiritual farmers are much better than their miners.

Most of the miners will die before the age of forty, and only a very few with special talents will survive to marry and have children.

He had felt weak and dazed before, and thought he was going to die.

Fortunately, I finally made it through.

The descendants of these foundation-building elders are different. Not only do they not have to stay in the mines every day, but they live under the sun. Not only is their life easy, but everyone can live to at least sixty years old, and some can even live over sixty years old.

Compared with them, the miners are in a world of difference.

The pillars twist and turn several times, and finally arrive at the sect's main hall.

It is said to be the sect's main hall, but in fact it is a cave halfway up the mountain that was rebuilt from a mine. The bluestone is flat and decorated with some worthless luminous pearls.

With such regulations, I am afraid that no martial arts sect in Beiyuan would bother to use it as their ancestral temple.

"The oppression and plunder of the Demonic Rock Tribe is really the limit..."

Jiang Ding withdrew a wisp of spiritual consciousness from the spiritual world, silently watched this sect, and assessed the living conditions of the human race in this world.

In fact, according to his habit, he should have chosen a deserted place to bury himself.

This way there is no cause and effect, and no contact with people, this is the safest way.

However, Shadow Demon Abyss's soul-hiding and divine art has its own requirements. By hiding with the help of the souls of mortals or cultivators, the aura can be made more concealed. Even if the spiritual sense of a high-level cultivator is scanning, it may not be discovered.

This is the crystallization of Shadow Demon Abyss’ immortal wisdom about concealment and lurking.

Objectively speaking, the wilderness and crowded places are the same for extremely high-level cultivators. There is no place that is more concealed, even if buried in the ground. There is another advantage of crowded places. The spirits and auras are chaotic and varied, which is actually an advantage for lurking.

Zhuzi looked at the sect hall inlaid with night pearls with awe, and walked in step by step. After seeing the two old men inside, he became more nervous, bowed respectfully, and said, "Uncle Master, I am here to hand over the purple jade stone I got that day."

"good."

One of the grey-robed old men who was sitting cross-legged nodded slightly and said nothing more.

Zhuzi didn't dare to disturb him, put down the purple jade and retreated carefully.

After he left, the gray-robed old man waved his hand to take the purple jade stone and placed it on a large stone bottle not far away. He then took out a bamboo slip and recorded nine points of merit on "Pillar 279".

"Nine points?"

A blue-robed foundation-building cultivator at the side said with a little surprise: "According to convention, shouldn't it be five points of merit? The sect takes one point, the higher-ups divide one or two, and finally you and I each get one point."

"Does this boy have any history with you?"

"Or do you feel compassion? It's useless. This kind of mining slave disciple has practiced the "Burning Blood Spirit Method" and has reached the seventh level of Qi training at such a young age. Living past fifty is the limit. There is really no need to waste anything."

"It would be better to let the spirit stones stay for us to cultivate. When we become stronger, the sect will also become stronger."

He knew that his old friend had a kind heart, so he gave advice.

"No."

The gray-robed foundation-building cultivator sighed softly.

"This is the order of the lord."

"The slave miners below have been exploited too harshly recently. They are almost at their limit. We must relax a little, otherwise they may decide to die."

"A large number of miners have died. If we can't hand over the ore, we will die too."

"Always... give them a little hope from time to time."

The blue-robed man remained silent.

"They have hope...what about our hope?"

he asked.

"We are also practicing the "Blood Burning Spirit Method". We practice much faster. Even if we build our foundation, we only have a lifespan of a hundred years, and we have a lot of time to spare every day."

"I do not know."

The gray-robed master shook his head.

"It would be great if I could become the sect master's personal disciple."

The two men were silent for a moment, and each took out a piece of ore, and carved it with hammers and chisels. Using special techniques, while peeling off the skin of the ore, they infused their own magic power and blood into it, refining it to improve the quality of the ore.

This is a higher quality ore that requires a foundation-building monk to carve and refine, and no one else can do it.

"The master's personal disciple..."

What the two men didn't know was that at the top of the mountain, an old man with white hair and wrinkles on his face was also hammering at a piece of third-level ore, refining it with his magic power and his own lifespan and blood. When he heard what they said, he laughed at himself.

"What is a sect master's disciple?"

"The lord is also a mining slave."

Master Jianshi looked at the hammer and chisel in his hands, these two treasures that had accompanied him for more than two hundred years.

He was in a daze for a long time.

Subsequently,

Ding ding ding ding…

The sound of stone-chiseling, which had lasted for who knows how many years, sounded again, numb and stiff.

I don't know how long this sound will last.

Because even such a life cannot be sustained. Other powerful tribes are drooling over this place, even though it is so barren.

　three
　　
　
(End of this chapter)