I fabricated myths to guide the revival of spiritual energy.

At the summit of Kunlun, deep within the Heavenly Palace.

Gu Qing sat cross-legged in the center of the main hall, his eyes slightly closed. The dark golden vertical line between his brows emitted a deep, almost tangible light with his long, even breaths.

Following the "landmark" that had been silently driven into the unknown universe, Gu Qing slowly probed that world with a faint wisp of consciousness, like a spider's thread.

The boundary marker lay dormant deep within that uninhabited mountain range, beneath the stagnant water of an abandoned well. Gu Qing's senses had already enveloped the entire mountain, but when he attempted to cross the mountain's boundary and expand further, a sudden change occurred.

Without any warning, the sky above the dry well, which had been relatively clear, suddenly lowered dramatically, the clouds pressing down like a heavy lead plate weighing down on the mountaintop. From the depths of the barren earth where the boundary marker stood, a faint yet repulsive tremor emanated. On the perpetually still surface of the dry well, concentric circles of lifeless, grayish-white ripples instantly appeared.

Gu Qing keenly sensed that an extremely large, blind, and instinctively hostile force was frantically squeezing the wisp of consciousness he had cast out from all directions.

This is not the work of a specific powerful cultivator or demon.

This is the "world consciousness" of that realm.

It sensed the approach of an outsider. To be precise, it sensed a terrifying being whose level far exceeded the current realm's capacity, attempting to cast its gaze upon it.

Gu Qing instantly grasped the rules and logic behind it.

His true form must never descend, and even a slightly powerful divine sense cannot linger in that world for long. This is because he carries the karmic fire of billions of humanity on Earth, as well as fragments of the dimensional core of a higher-dimensional ruler.

If he were to forcibly tear open the passage and enter, this already desolate world, teeming with spiritual energy and on the verge of collapse, would not only be unable to withstand his "weight" and be torn apart on the spot, but its world consciousness would also mark him as an "extraterrestrial demon" or "extraterrestrial evil god" before it collapses.

At that time, the mountains and rivers of the entire realm, the local cultivators, and even the laws of heaven and earth will trigger an extremely fierce instinctive backlash.

Gu Qing did not forcefully resist the rejection. He suppressed all his aura, leaving only a trace of his most basic perception attached to the boundary marker, and began to patiently test the limits of this realm's tolerance.

He extracted nine strands of humanistic imprints of varying intensities, simulating outsiders of different cultivation levels, and infiltrated them outwards time and time again.

Several hours later, Gu Qing figured out the pattern of this "boundary firewall".

This world's current tolerance limit for outsiders is nine people.

Once the number exceeds nine, or if someone is carrying a large-scale high-dimensional weapon, the cross-dimensional fluctuations will instantly awaken the world's consciousness. Furthermore, the entrant's cultivation level must not exceed the Golden Core stage, and their spiritual pressure must not exceed the level of the highest-ranking cultivator in this realm.

Any force exceeding this threshold will trigger celestial warnings and may even be immediately rejected by the realm.

Gu Qing slowly opened his eyes, a knowing glint in his dark pupils.

Nine people—this is the first stepping stone for Earth to cross boundaries. Only after these nine "shadows" infiltrate and thoroughly understand the local rules and operating methods, and even after Gu Qing breaks through the boundary repulsion from within, will Earth be qualified to turn this trial into an expedition.

Gu Qing's divine sense swept across the entire Kunlun in an instant.

On the outer courtyard's martial arts arena, Chu Tian was practicing his swordplay with his eyes closed, his sword energy surging. On the other side, in the forging peak, Wang Tiechui, shirtless, was swinging his sledgehammer, sparks flying everywhere.

Gu Qing's gaze did not linger on them. Chu Tian's sword intent was too intense, his sharpness overwhelming, and he had other battlefield plans; Wang Tiechui's blood and energy were like a furnace, and if he were to infiltrate that decaying world, he would be as conspicuous as a torch in the dark.

Finally, Gu Qing's gaze fell upon the medicine valley in the back mountains of Kunlun.

Lin Xiaolu was squatting in front of a row of cauldrons where medicine was being simmered. She was wearing a simple Taoist robe, with some medicinal mud on her cuffs, and she was carefully checking the heat of the elixir in her hand. Not far away, several disciples who had suffered damage to their meridians after the war were lying on sickbeds and receiving her treatment.

She wasn't the strongest fighter in Kunlun, but she was the most suitable. Proficient in the Dao of Wood, she excelled in healing, detoxification, and the identification of spiritual plants. In the original Kunlun trial team, her battlefield judgment saved her teammates' lives several times.

Most importantly, her aura is gentle and restrained, with a long life force, making her extremely suitable for survival in unfamiliar and dangerous environments.

"Lin Xiaolu".

Gu Qing's calm yet supremely authoritative voice resounded directly in her mind.

In the medicine valley, Lin Xiaolu paused slightly as she fanned the stove. Instead of looking around, she immediately put down the fan, smoothed her clothes with remarkable ease, and knelt on one knee.

"Disciple is here."

"You will enter the First Realm." Gu Qing's voice was completely calm. "You will explore the First Realm together with the authorities."

Lin Xiaolu didn't press for details about what was happening outside. She simply took a deep breath, suppressing her slightly racing heart, and whispered, "Disciple obeys."

At the same time.

Inside the main control room in Kyoto, a huge holographic screen displayed static, and the conventional detection instruments remained silent. Wang Mingyuan, along with Zhou Lan and Zhao Feng, who were participating via projection, waited anxiously.

They were unable to capture any sound, image, or intelligence from the target world. After the boundary marker was deployed, they were like people standing outside a tightly closed iron gate, waiting for instructions from the only person inside who could see the truth.

"Buzz—"

A jade slip with a dark golden luster appeared out of thin air on the desk.

Wang Mingyuan immediately probed into their minds, and several undeniable divine decrees simultaneously resounded in the minds of the three:

"There are spirits in this world, and they have already noticed those coming from outside."

"Nine people are the limit. Their cultivation level must be suppressed to below the Nascent Soul stage, and all high-dimensional artifacts are prohibited."

"Lin Xiaolu will take one seat. The remaining eight seats are for you to decide."

"Do not be greedy for credit, and do not act arrogantly."

There are no lengthy explanations of cross-dimensional principles, only cold constraints and commands.

Wang Mingyuan looked at the jade slip, then turned and stopped several elderly academicians behind him, their eyes red as they tried to stuff scientific instruments into it: "Stop arguing! The Dao Lord has set a limit of nine people! This is a joint exploration, not a scientific expedition!"

After three hours of intense debate and functional deliberation, the joint control room finally finalized the functional allocation for the remaining eight positions, rather than simply filling in the names of the eight most capable individuals:

A military captain, in charge of the overall situation;

A melee swordsman, serving as both a guard and a sniper to break through enemy lines;

A formation master is responsible for maintaining the return signal of the boundary marker and setting up a temporary formation plate in times of crisis;

A healer, working with Lin Xiaolu, deals with fatal injuries and an unknown plague;

A folk language expert, who must possess a certain level of expertise, is responsible for deciphering the local script, etiquette, and even official system in the shortest possible time;

A wandering spirit in the underworld, specializing in suppressing ghosts and evil rituals. However, he cannot cross realms in his pure soul form; he must rely on a paper doll-like avatar created by the underworld to move about.

One of the talisman cultivators is responsible for concealing the team's movements, sealing their auras, and covering their retreat in emergencies.

Finally, a logistics recorder was responsible for operating the disguised low-spiritual-pressure recording devices and for absolutely sealing the acquired samples.

As for Lin Xiaolu, as the ninth person assigned by Kunlun, she is the true "ballast" of this team. She doesn't hold the official title of captain, but everyone knows that in the event of a crisis that could wipe out the team, she has the highest authority to evacuate at any cost.

After the roles were finalized, Wang Mingyuan stared at the list with only nine vacancies and fell into a long silence.

It's not that Earth lacks sufficient resources, but rather that the world currently only allows these nine low-pressure "shadows" to infiltrate.

This means that the moment these nine people crossed the stargate, the massive interstellar fleet, the millions of cultivators, and the unfathomable underworld soldiers behind them could not provide them with even the slightest protection.

They can only rely on themselves.

……

The first cross-border reconnaissance team did not set off immediately in the next thirty days.

The eight team members, selected through extremely stringent criteria, entered a top-level closed training room deep underground in the new Chang'an, together with Lin Xiaolu.

What they are doing here is not some high-intensity killing training, but rather "spiritual pressure sealing" and "disguise" adaptation.

All the modern armor, brimming with technological sophistication and high-dimensional array patterns, was forcibly stripped away.

Instead, clothing in the style of the target world was replicated based on the scattered images transmitted from the Dao Lord's divine sense: rough linen clothes, old leather armor with scratches, and even a tattered bamboo hat with worn edges.

All the cultivation equipment on Earth has undergone extremely rigorous camouflage treatment.

The swordsman's sharp and powerful flying sword was forcibly sealed into an ordinary iron sword.

The communication jade slip used for emergency contact was embedded in a crudely carved wooden amulet.

Medical injections and elixirs powerful enough to bring the dead back to life and heal the wounded were carefully poured into old, rough porcelain bottles and sealed with yellowed corks.

The logistics recorder's miniature photographic tool was perfectly disguised as a string of mud-covered copper coins.

The powerful sealing talismans that Fu Xiu used were sewn one by one into the inner layer of a tattered, popular scripture whose cover was almost completely falling off.

In the rest area of ​​the training room.

Lin Xiaolu changed into a coarse linen outfit devoid of any spiritual energy. She didn't complain about the simplicity of the clothes, but instead reached out and gently touched the slightly prickly stitching on the cuffs.

"What's wrong, Senior Sister Lin? Are you not used to wearing these?" The array master next to her asked in a low voice while wiping mud off the soles of her shoes.

"No." Lin Xiaolu shook her head, a faint, down-to-earth smile appearing on her lips. "It's quite nice. Touching this material, it reminds me of the old cotton-padded jacket my grandmother sewed for me under the lamp when I was little."

The thirty days of preparation were spent in an extremely stressful and tense atmosphere.

The far side of the moon, the outer edge of the seventh region.

In front of the massive outer ring base of the stargate, the first cross-border reconnaissance team stood quietly.

The earthly aura, Kunlun Taoist magic, and the iron will of soldiers within them were all suppressed deep within their souls by layers of heavy seals. At this moment, they looked like a grassroots caravan composed of down-on-their-luck wandering swordsmen, itinerant doctors, fortune tellers, and a few rough guards.

On the outer ring of the star gate, the intricate dark gold patterns only lit up with a faint light; the true interdimensional passage had not yet been opened.

Wang Mingyuan watched the nine figures from behind through the thick, explosion-proof glass of the Guanghan base.

Only at this moment did he truly realize that the first step for Earth's civilization towards the vast multiverse was not a sky-covering interstellar fleet, nor the earth-shattering roar of array formations.

Instead, it was these nine people who went to great lengths to disguise themselves.