Simultaneous traversal: All Abyss difficulty.

Chapter 693 Starting with Immortal Cultivation
Golden light exploded, and smoke and dust filled the air.

On the cliff platform, a suffocating silence descended.

The howling wind seemed to freeze as well, leaving only the fear of ice shards brushing against one's face.

Those arrogant young masters, the newly arrived experts, and even the limp Wang the Fat Deacon, all seemed petrified, their eyes bulging out as they stared intently at Fang Yu.

The sight was horrifying!
Inner disciple Zhang Boxing, like a tattered sack, was deeply embedded in the pile of rubble on the broken mountain wall dozens of feet away. His body was covered in blood, and countless bones were broken. Every weak twitch was accompanied by a painful groan that sounded like air leaking out.

The dust from the rocks, mixed with a strong stench of blood, drifted through the cold air.

At the center of the platform, Fang Yu still stood in the same spot, still wearing that old, dirty, splattered coarse cloth jacket, with an overturned wooden bucket and a dirty brush at his feet.

He looked completely bewildered, as if he himself had no idea what had just happened.

Only the faint golden light lingering around him and the astonishing residual power emanating from the air coldly reminded everyone that the earth-shattering attack just now was no illusion.

A menial servant!
A janitor with the most inferior pseudo-spiritual root in the world!

In full view of everyone, he actually struck a high-ranking inner disciple, leaving him lifeless.
"Hiss—" A series of gasps erupted from the dead silence, reaching an unbelievable peak.

At this moment of stagnation, several extremely sharp sounds of air being torn apart rang out!
"Who dares to commit violence within the sect?!"

"presumptuous!"

With a majestic roar, several figures, carrying powerful spiritual pressure, arrived in an instant and landed on the platform.

The elder and the middle-aged man at the head of the group had sharp eyes like eagles and deep, unfathomable auras, clearly indicating that they were elders of extremely high status within the sect.

The others following behind were also highly skilled, with eyes like lightning, instantly locking onto Fang Yu in the arena and Zhang Boxing in the distance.

When they realized that the one who was seriously injured and dying was Zhang Boxing, and that the murderer was Fang Yu—a lowly servant who wasn't even considered an outer disciple—their shock instantly turned into overwhelming rage!
"You audacious wretch!"

The elder at the head of the group, his hair and beard bristling, roared like a thunderclap, an invisible pressure bearing down on Fang Yu like a tidal wave, "You lowly ant, how dare you lay such a vicious hand on an inner disciple?! Who gave you the guts!"

He simply did not believe that this was Fang Yu's own power.

The power that was unleashed just now was something that a mortal with a "pseudo-spiritual root" could not possess.

"He must possess some evil magic weapon or have used a vicious spell!"

The middle-aged elder beside him shouted sternly, his eyes fixed on Fang Yu with a sinister look, "Search him! Clean this beast inside and out!"

At his command, two disciples with considerable cultivation pounced on Fang Yu like wolves and tigers.

One person gripped Fang Yu's arms tightly with both hands like iron clamps, the powerful force almost crushing his arm bones, rendering him instantly immobile.

Another female cultivator, with a beautiful face but cold eyes, stepped forward and began to grope his body with undisguised disgust.

Her hands reached mercilessly into Fang Yu's tattered clothes and cuffs, rummaging through the rough, cold fabric.

However, apart from the nauseating, heavy stench from the outhouse staining her slender fingers and the smooth cuffs of her robe, she found nothing! No magical artifacts, no talismans, not even half a copper coin or a decent jade pendant; only a pungent, sour stench and a cold, damp, hard touch.

The female cultivator's face grew increasingly pale, her disgust palpable, and she almost vomited on the spot.

"Reporting to the elder, he... he is completely naked!" The female cultivator took a few steps back, suppressing her nausea as she reported, while frantically wiping her filthy hands.

Several high-ranking elders looked at each other, their eyes filled with confusion and astonishment.

No external force? Then where did that terrifying golden light and the old man's phantom come from?

What exactly is the source of that power that could severely injure a Foundation Establishment cultivator?
Could it be that this useless body with "pseudo-spiritual roots" harbors secrets they cannot comprehend? This completely defies their understanding!
"Useless trash, what exactly are you?" The middle-aged elder's gaze was like a knife, about to press for more answers. Just then, a slightly hunched figure, with an elusive aura, silently landed in front of everyone.

The newcomer was an extremely thin Taoist priest with a slightly yellowish complexion. He wore a faded Taoist robe and exuded an indescribable sense of "withering," like a piece of wood that was about to rot.

His gaze swept over the heavily injured Zhang Boxing, then fell on the disheveled and subdued Fang Yu. His cloudy eyes flickered, and someone immediately stepped forward to whisper a few words to him.

Upon hearing this, the thin Taoist priest's lips twitched slightly.

He walked up to Fang Yu, ignoring the disciples who were holding Fang Yu down and the elders who looked on with surprise. He looked at Fang Yu with a flat gaze, his voice dry and hoarse, like the rubbing of withered leaves: "You, your name is Fang Yu?"

Fang Yu struggled to lift his head, looking at the gaunt face, feeling no joy at surviving a disaster or excitement at being rescued.

His long struggle at the bottom of society had made him as wary as a wolf, and his memories as a time traveler made him even more suspicious of such sudden and unprovoked "favors".

The thin Taoist's gaze made him very uncomfortable; it felt as if something was quietly eyeing him from the shadows, and it was definitely not a kind soul.

What good person would have such a chilling sensation?
The thin Taoist priest didn't wait for his reply and said to himself, "From now on, you will become my disciple and follow me in cultivation. You will be an inner disciple."

hiss--!
These words shocked everyone present! The two disciples who had just been searching Fang Yu subconsciously let go of his hand, their faces filled with disbelief.

Even the highly skilled elder showed a look of astonishment.

"Senior brother?! Don't you only have Xiao Su as your true disciple? This..." The middle-aged elder couldn't help but step forward, his tone full of surprise and doubt.

The disciples were in an uproar: "An inner disciple? This kid has risen to the top in one step?!"

"Why should he?! He's just a toilet cleaner! A pseudo-spiritual root!"

"What incredible luck! Why would Old Master Skinny take him in?!"

However, the thin Taoist remained expressionless, ignoring the exclamations and discussions around him. He simply continued to look at Fang Yu and asked dryly, "How is it?"

Fang Yu's heart sank suddenly, as if he were being covered by an invisible net.

To be taken as a disciple by someone who evokes such terrible feelings in him? Definitely not a good thing!

But he knew very well that, in the current situation, this seemingly windfall "acceptance of a disciple" was his only way to escape this dangerous situation that was being eyed by many high-level cultivators.

Whatever this gaunt Taoist priest's intentions—whether he's using him as a medicine mannequin or as a catalyst for refining his magical artifacts—at least he can temporarily save his life and escape this predicament.

Let's take it one step at a time! As long as we're alive, there's always room for maneuver!

A flicker of struggle and wariness flashed across Fang Yu's eyes, but he quickly suppressed all his emotions and knelt down with a swift motion, kowtowing heavily to the thin Taoist priest. His voice was hoarse but exceptionally clear: "Disciple Fang Yu greets Master!"

The thin Taoist priest remained expressionless, as if he hadn't taken in a disciple, but rather picked up a straw.

He grunted in response, then turned and walked away. His ethereal figure seemed slow, but in the blink of an eye, he had already drifted several feet away.

Without hesitation, Fang Yu gritted his teeth and stood up. Although his steps were a little unsteady due to the sharp pain in his lower back, he forced himself to catch up quickly.

The figure in the tattered, coarse coat, stained with conspicuous dirt, followed silently and resolutely behind the gaunt man, gradually disappearing into the distance on the stone steps in the dim morning light and the biting mountain wind.

On the platform, only Zhang Boxing, covered in blood and groaning from his serious injuries, remained, along with numerous inner and outer disciples with varying expressions, and several high-ranking elders looking at each other with expressions of absurdity and confusion.

And in the darkness, it seems that the spiritual power of the universe is forcefully impacting the barrier of this world!

At that time, Kinmen will still be Kinmen, but Fang Yu
He is no longer the Fang Yu he is today.

(End of this chapter)