My classmates chose martial arts and fantasy, but I chose the prehistoric world.

"Sit down. Have your meal."

Hou Tu pushed the berries and tubers over a bit, picked up an unknown tuber for himself, and bit into it with a "crunch," chewing it crisply.

Meng Chuan sat down and, imitating her, picked up a berry.

It has a sweet and sour fruit flavor, is full of juice, and after entering the stomach, it transforms into a gentle spiritual energy that spreads out.

The two of them quietly finished their simple meal with just water.

Sunlight filtered through the branches and leaves of the crooked tree, casting dappled patterns of light.

The pool was silent, occasionally a fish would leap out of the water, splashing up tiny ripples.

After finishing eating, Houtu brushed the crumbs off his hands and stood up.

"I need to leave for a while," she said.

Meng Chuan looked up at her.

"There is something going on in the clan, so I need to go back to the ancestral land of Buzhou Mountain."

Houtu spoke succinctly, "It could take a few months or a few years. I will maintain the formation in this valley, and you may come and go as you please. But after leaving the valley, you must be extremely careful."

She paused, looked at Meng Chuan, and suddenly smiled slightly.

Her smile was subtle, yet it instantly brightened and enlivened her entire face.

"Don't die."

She said, "I'm still waiting to see... how far you can go in your cultivation of Father God's Nine Revolutions Profound Technique."

As soon as she finished speaking, her figure faded away like a reflection in water, eventually disappearing into the air.

Only a few green leaves on the stone table and a few fruit pits left among the leaves proved that she had existed.

Meng Chuan sat on the stone bench, remaining motionless for a long time.

He lowered his head and looked at the bone fragment in his palm, which was warm and heavy.

In the distance, the pool reflects the sky and clouds, remaining as still as ever.

He carefully put the bone fragments away from his body, then got up and went to the edge of the pool.

Beneath the water's surface, the remnant of the jet-black, god-slaying spear remained silently embedded in the sand, dark red blood flowing slowly through the cracks, fierce yet silent.

Meng Chuan stared for a moment, then turned and walked back to the crooked tree. He sat cross-legged on the bluestone, closed his eyes, and concentrated.

When the Nine Revolutions Mystic Technique was activated, the celestial power flowed like a mighty river, endless and boundless.

Within his sea of ​​consciousness, the pure light of the Primordial Golden Cauldron shone down, nourishing his spirit and soul, and solidifying his foundation in the Dao.

three days later.

Meng Chuan opened his eyes, a flash of golden light disappearing from them.

He stood up, took one last look at the tranquil valley, then turned and strode toward the valley entrance.

The array's light separated, then silently closed up behind him.

Outside the valley, the vast wilderness stretched out, with wind whipping up dust and sand.

He discerned the direction, his internal energy circulated, and with one step, his figure transformed into a pale golden light, speeding towards Mount Buzhou.

Behind him, the valley receded into the distance until it disappeared at the horizon.

……

Mount Buzhou was closer than Meng Chuan had imagined.

Or rather, it is a "nearness" that cannot be measured by distance.

After he had been speeding in that direction for about three days, a hazy gray shadow that stretched to the horizon appeared at the edge of his vision.

The gray shadow occupied most of the horizon, its upper part disappearing into the thick, chaotic clouds, while its lower part blended seamlessly with the earth, as if supporting the entire primordial sky.

The closer one gets, the clearer that indescribable, overwhelming pressure emanating from the depths of one's blood becomes—

Buzhou Mountain!

The spine of Pangu transformed into the primordial pillar of heaven!

He activated his escape technique and landed atop a crimson hill, gazing into the distance.

As far as the eye can see, the earth presents a strange and distinct division.

Near Buzhou Mountain lies a lush, dark green forest, with ancient trees reaching for the sky, shrouded in mist, and teeming with life, almost wild and untamed.

Closer to us, the region stretching for tens of thousands of miles presents a completely different picture—

The reddish-brown soil is scorched and cracked, with almost no intact vegetation visible.

The spiritual energy in the air was chaotic, sometimes raging like a tidal wave, sometimes as thin as gauze.

In addition, a dark red aura permeated the entire area, flowing across the ground like a thin mist, gathering and dispersing unpredictably.

Ancient battlefield!

The ruins of the ancient warring states, a place where countless lives perished.

Even after countless years, the lingering aura of slaughter, resentment, and broken principles still turn this land into a forbidden zone for life.

Meng Chuan took a deep breath. The Xuanwu scales given to him by Houtu felt slightly cool on his chest, protecting his mind and keeping it clear.

He first found a relatively intact rock face, and sat cross-legged in a sheltered spot for half a day to adjust his breathing and reach his peak condition.

Then, he got up and took his first step.

The moment I stepped across the border, I felt a chilling dread that seeped into my very bones.

A faint wailing sound drifted in the wind, as if countless ghosts were speaking in one's ear.

The soil beneath my feet was soft and had an eerie elasticity, as if I were stepping on a layer of corpses that had not yet completely decomposed.

move on.

The battlefield ruins were more extensive and desolate than I had imagined.

There were no insects chirping or birds singing, and no signs of any living creatures.

There were only jagged rocks scattered everywhere, huge bones half-buried in the soil, and the occasional fragments of weapons so broken that their original appearance could not be identified.

The bones were mostly dark gold or jade white, and remained incredibly hard despite the erosion of time.

Some were as large as small mountains, with ribs like archways; one can imagine how enormous they must have been in life.

Some are small and exquisite, with mysterious patterns naturally growing on their bones, clearly belonging to certain races with extraordinary talents.

Meng Chuan stopped in front of a giant skeleton, half-buried in the ground, resembling a bird but with three heads.

The skeleton was dark gold in color, with charred marks on its surface resembling those from a lightning strike.

The three heads faced three different directions, their jaws wide open, maintaining a roaring posture.

In the six hollow eye sockets, it seems that a flame of resentment still burns deep within the years.

He reached out, his fingertips carefully touching a wing bone.

Om-! !

A chilling killing intent instantly flowed into his fingertips!

A series of fragmented images flashed through my mind:

Wings that blot out the sky, lightning that tears the heavens apart, and a dazzling sword beam that pierces through the heavens and earth...

A moment later, the screen abruptly stopped!

Meng Chuan withdrew his finger, leaving a small, charred burn mark on his fingertip.

The will that remained of the skeleton's owner during his lifetime has not completely dissipated even after countless ages!

He remained silent for a moment, bowed to the skeleton, and then turned and left.