Da Feng: From copying golden entries to becoming an immortal in the mortal world

Gian marries into the world created by Shizuka, all in "Da Feng: From Copying the Golden Encyclopedia to Becoming an Immortal in the Mortal World".

"Wei Yuan! The Great Sorcerer God is at the pinnacle of the altar!"

"You, a mere second-rank martial artist, dare to presume to set foot on Mount Wushen?!"

"When the Witch God breaks free from the Confucian Sage's seal next spring, the entire land will surely revere our Witch God Sect as the orthodox authority!"

The roar echoed along the mountainside of Wushen Mountain, carrying the hysteria of someone on the verge of death.

On the mountainside of Wushen Mountain, jagged rocks are stained with blood.

One second-rank rain master and two third-rank spiritual masters had long since exhausted their life force.

Its elemental body crumbled like snowflakes, and the spiritual light around it dimmed to the point of almost being extinguished.

His eyes were churning with overwhelming resentment and a deep-seated despair.

They used their last ounce of strength, but they didn't even have the power to stop the figure in blue.

After all, a second-rank Dao-Merging Martial Artist has already touched upon the rudiments of the rules of heaven and earth.

Unless two second-rank Rain Masters join forces to set up a deadly formation, the three of them alone are no match for them.

"The true lineage of Kyushu?"

Wei Yuan lowered his eyes and let out a cold snort.

The chill penetrated to the bone, causing the surrounding rocks to rustle and rattle.

"You lackeys, how dare you utter those four words?"

Before he could finish speaking...

The second-grade formation-breaking will exploded with a deafening roar, like ten thousand mountains pressing down, carrying endless killing intent, directly locking the souls of the three.

That oppressive aura was terrifying.

The two third-grade Spiritual Wisdom Masters bled from the corners of their mouths on the spot, their souls trembled, and they could hardly stand up.

"It was the Witch God who upheld the destiny of humanity and drove the gods and demons out of the Nine Provinces, not you evil demons who wreak havoc on the world!"

Wei Yuan's voice boomed like a bell, each word ringing with conviction, "As for the merits and demerits of the sorcerer, I, Wei, would like to inquire about them myself!"

After speaking, his eyes pierced through the clouds like a hawk's, his sharp gaze penetrating the overwhelming witch energy and looking towards the highest peak of the Witch God's Altar.

The second-grade martial will suddenly coalesced, transforming into a giant in blue robes as tall as the sky.

With an upright posture and an imposing presence, he silently overlooked the blood-stained battlefield.

Looking down at this group of stubborn cultists.

Wei Yuan lifted his foot and took a step, causing the earth to rumble and the mountains to tremble.

The bluestone beneath my feet crumbled inch by inch.

Each step he took seemed to carve an indelible battle mark between heaven and earth, firm and heavy.

Step by step, they approached the summit of the sacred mountain, which was revered as a holy site by the Witch God Cult.

Step on!

"The God of Wizardry!"

He let out a long, resounding cry that pierced the clouds and reached the mountain peak:

"Back then, gods and demons ruled the land, and you lived as a slave, witnessing your loved ones being humiliated and slaughtered..."

"What kind of feeling is that?!"

"Could it be that by learning witchcraft and ascending to godhood, one can cast aside the suffering of childhood, forget the pain of the past, and conceal the inferiority complex in one's heart?!"

These words struck like a thunderbolt, and the followers of the Witch God Sect stood frozen in place, their madness instantly frozen, their eyes filled with disbelief.

Nobody could believe it.

Someone actually dared to publicly reveal a secret from the past of the sorcerer god that was unknown to others.

Available in the next second.

The shock of the Witch God Cult members was replaced by extreme anger and madness.

The sorcerer god was their lifelong faith, an inviolable existence in their hearts.

To insult the sorcerer is to trample on their lives and to be an enemy of the entire sorcerer religion!

"Wei Yuan, you are utterly arrogant!"

The second-rank Rain Master's eyes were bloodshot, and even though he was already exhausted, he suddenly burned his own life essence.

Two third-grade Spiritual Wisdom Masters followed closely behind, their bodies radiating an eerie blood-red light—

They are about to unleash the forbidden magic of the Witch God Cult, the Blood Sacrifice Technique!

Without any orders from higher-ups, the remaining followers of the witch god knelt down in unison, their eyes filled with resolute determination, showing no fear whatsoever.

They worked together wholeheartedly, willingly offering their own blood and soul as a sacrifice.

Even if I turn to ashes, I will still cherish this warrior in green who came from the mountains.

They paid a heavy price!

The Blood Sacrifice Technique was the only forbidden art that could forcibly communicate with the Witch God when the Witch God Cult was on the verge of destruction.

They used the lives of countless believers as bait and faith as a medium to gain a glimpse of divine power.

One wizard after another fell down, their bodies visibly shriveling and withering until they became lifeless, dried-up corpses.

They died silently, without complaint or regret.

Only a wisp of will remained, completely absorbed into the eagle sculpture of the sorcerer god at the center of the altar.

This was the last stand of the Witch God Cult, the most vehement curse uttered by a group of fanatical believers against Wei Yuan, against the Confucian sage, and against the entire Great Feng Dynasty.

Rumbling--

A deafening roar resounded, and the eagle sculpture of the witch god on the altar suddenly developed numerous cracks.

Fine stone chips kept falling, and a thick, inky black smoke billowed out from between the sculpture's eyebrows.

It swept across the world in an instant, blotting out the sky and the sun.

It swallowed up the blazing sun for miles around, obscured the blue sky, and dragged the daytime into endless darkness.

In the blink of an eye.

The black mist then enveloped the area within a radius of two hundred miles around Wushen Mountain.

The surging never ceases.

Like the raging waves before a storm, it carries a chilling and ferocious aura, making it hard to breathe.

A commoner's anger can cause blood to splatter three feet; an emperor's anger can cause millions to die.

What if the gods become angry?

At the foot of Wushen Mountain, the few remaining Dafeng soldiers looked up, their faces filled with terror.

He stared intently at the churning black mist above his head, trembling all over, his breath becoming labored.

Its form was ethereal, its face indistinct, yet it exuded a breathtaking divine power.

Any soldier who dared to look directly at that dark figure would instantly bleed from all seven orifices, their soul and spirit extinguished, and they would fall to the ground, lifeless.

From within the shadows came a faint yet grand voice, seemingly carrying a thousand years of anger, seemingly concealing endless hatred, and also seemingly accompanied by an unspeakable sigh.

The sound resounded throughout the heavens and earth, shaking the mountains and rivers.

A terrible storm swept across the entire Wushen Mountain.

You'll regret it.

Wei Yuan understood.

These were the words the sorcerer god said to him.

In response, he suddenly burst into laughter.

The laughter was desolate yet arrogant, piercing through the wind and rain, echoing throughout the sacred mountain, carrying forty years of forbearance and hatred, and an undying obsession and determination.

Forty years ago, memories flooded my mind like a tidal wave.

He is no longer the trembling young man in a blue robe who used to hide in a dry well.

Forty years ago, during the reign of Empress Joan of Arc.

A horrific war once broke out in the three northeastern provinces.

The sorcerer god issued a divine decree, ordering his forces to destroy the Great Feng and plunder its fortune.

The three northeastern kingdoms responded to the call, mobilizing an army of 200,000 to launch a fierce invasion. They swept through the three prefectures of Xiang, Jing, and Yu with unstoppable momentum.

Those were dark and hopeless years. The followers of the Witch God Cult and the invading enemy forces used extremely brutal methods, massacring entire cities every three days, sparing neither the elderly, the weak, women, nor children.

One by one, the people of Dafeng were slaughtered and humiliated like lowly weeds, their cries of agony echoing across the land, a truly horrific sight.

Within a hundred miles.

The place was desolate, littered with withered bones, and mountains of corpses.

Even the soil was soaked in blood, and the air was filled with an inescapable stench of blood and decay.

Their ferocity and brutality were unmatched, even by the demons and barbarians who raided the land year after year.

Even today, that battle remains an indelible shadow in the hearts of those who experienced it firsthand, a wound etched into the very bones of the people of Dafeng.

Since that battle, over the next ten years, the imperial court has deployed 100,000 troops in three prefectures.

But the people would rather be displaced and become refugees than dare to return to their homeland.

They were truly terrified by the Witch God Cult, their courage completely broken.

Afterwards, the imperial court re-compiled the Yellow Register and counted the population, only to find that the vast lands of Xiangzhou, Jingzhou, and Yuzhou were already almost deserted.

More than a million people died in that war; their bones lay exposed in the fields, and the world was devastated. It was a truly horrific tragedy.

Of the entire Wei family, the prefect of Yuzhou, only one young boy miraculously survived.

The boy hid in a dry well, surviving for seven days by eating moss and swallowing insects.

He witnessed firsthand the tragic deaths of his loved ones and the destruction of his homeland, and he personally witnessed the despair and cries of the people of Dafeng.

From that time onwards.

He then engraved the five words "Exterminate the Witch God Cult" into his very bones, making them his sole motivation to live.

That young man is none other than Wei Yuan, who has come across the mountain today to seek justice from the Witch God!

"Regret? It's just a matter of death."

"With the capital fallen, I was already prepared to die, and I was determined to perish together with the Witch God Cult!"

That's all.

A blood-red sun rose behind Wei Yuan, resembling a crimson Asura, instantly devouring the life force of all living beings within a twenty-mile radius of the Wushen Mountain headquarters.

Strengthen your own Qi and blood.

"The God of Wizardry!"

"Your faults outweigh your merits in life. Since you've become a god on your own, why not continue living a solitary life?!"

"Let Wei help you!"

The Witch God: "Insolence!"