Mythical Three Kingdoms: Martial Arts Reach Divine Ranks, I Alone Rule the World

Time flies like an arrow, and the sun sets in the west.

After enjoying a meal of roasted venison prepared by Zhang Ren, the future King of Spears of Sichuan, at a mountainside villa on Phoenix Mountain, Zhang Mu realized that night had already fallen.

"Gongfu! Zijin!"

"When you two have completed your studies and left the mountains, how about you two accompany the shepherd to Yanmen?"

"Compared to the peaceful and serene Phoenix Perch Mountain, the endless, desolate grasslands and the vast borderlands are the choices that a fine man should make."

As Zhang Mu got up and walked toward the corpse of Tan Shihuai lying on the ground in the courtyard, he extended an invitation to Zhang Ren and Zhang Xiu, who were wiping the oil stains off their hands.

As for the boy Zhao Yun, who was still a teenager...

Zhang Mu was too embarrassed to mention it.

He was afraid he would say it.

Tong Yuan, who was leisurely picking his teeth at the table, would suddenly stand up and fight him.

Because of the short time we spent together.

He discovered that Tong Yuan had a common problem among most older people: he especially doted on his young "grandchildren".

Although Zhao Yun was not related to Tong Yuan by blood, nor was he his grandson.

but.

As Tong Yuan's last disciple, it would not be an exaggeration to describe him as the apple of his eye.

Zhang Mu's invitation came as a bit of a surprise.

The usually calm and collected senior brother, Zhang Ren, was alright; he merely glanced at Zhang Mu with surprise.

Zhang Xiu, on the other hand, seemed somewhat tempted.

After spending most of the day together, Zhang Mu, who shared the same surname Zhang, not only possessed great strength, but also had a very similar temperament to him.

As fellow young people, Zhang Xiu undoubtedly had a good impression of Zhang Mu.

"snort!"

"Young friend Gongzhi, I'm not dead yet!"

"Even if you take a liking to my two disciples, you'll have to wait until they reach the Martial Phase Realm. I won't feel comfortable entrusting them to you, this troublesome young friend, until they reach the Martial Phase Realm."

Tong Yuan licked the bits of meat he had picked out from between his teeth, spat them out, and then interrupted Zhang Mu.

The underlying meaning is the same.

There is only one standard for my disciples to graduate: Martial Realm.

Before his disciple reaches the Martial Realm, he, as the master, will not allow him to go down the mountain to seek fame and fortune.

"Ha ha ha ha!"

Zhang Mu wasn't angry at Tong Yuan's resolute refusal; instead, he responded with a hearty laugh.

There is ample time.

He has plenty of time to wield his hoe and dig up the old man's three top disciples.

If Ximen Qing could even steal Wu Dalang's virginity, there's no reason why this time traveler couldn't undermine Liu Bei and Liu Zhang.

They walked up to the body of Tan Shihuai.

Zhang Mu made a claw shape with his hand, and with the help of his blood energy, he lifted up the corpse of Tan Shihuai, which was wrapped in the Golden Wolf Banner. He turned around and revealed a set of big white teeth.

"Gentlemen!"

"See you tomorrow!"

"Sing!"

The blood-blooded dragon roared and carried Zhang Mu into the sky.

The battlefield is not here; he wants to choose another deserted place to fight.

Watching Zhang Mu leave, Tong Yuan slowly stood up.

"Remember what your teacher said."

"No matter what happens tonight, do not leave this hillside villa."

Tong Yuan solemnly instructed his three disciples, his robes fluttering without wind, and his body rising off the ground.

Until Zhang Mu and Tong Yuan's figures completely disappeared...

"Bang!"

Zhang Xiu slammed his fist on the table in front of him, leaving a fist-shaped mark that cracked outwards.

"Xiu Xin was truly unwilling to accept this; she really wanted to go and see!"

"Let's see what kind of strange things these so-called terracotta warriors are that have made Master and Brother Zhang so wary."

Listening to his second junior brother Zhang Xiu's words, Zhang Ren glanced at this junior brother who had always been restless.

"Zijin, even if you want to watch, you'd better stay here obediently tonight."

"otherwise."

"As your senior brother, Ren will not let you off easily."

Upon hearing Zhang Ren's warning, Zhang Xiu immediately shrank back.

He muttered resentfully, "Yes, yes, yes, can't I just stay here and not go out?"

"Really."

"Senior Brother, your personality is becoming more and more like Master's, so rigid and old-fashioned."

Zhao Yun remained silent.

He glanced worriedly in the direction where his master Tong Yuan and Zhang Mu had left, then lowered his head and silently began clearing the dishes from the table.

……

After leaving the Phoenix Perch Mountain Villa, Zhang Mu, carrying the corpse of Tan Shihuai, flew through the air.

His eyes scanned the mountains and plains, trying to find a valley uninhabited by people and suitable for use as a battlefield.

"Kongji little friend!"

"Thirteen miles to your due west, there is a desolate place rarely visited by humans."

Tong Yuan's voice came from afar, indicating the direction for Zhang Mu.

"good!"

Zhang Mu, without suspecting anything, turned around and headed west.

Less than a hundred breaths.

Zhang Mu had already arrived at the "deadly place" that Tong Yuan had mentioned. It was surrounded by cliffs and steep walls, with a bottomless pool of water in the middle.

The only connection between this isolated place and the outside world is a narrow mountain path extending outward from the middle of the cliffs.

It can be said.

Aside from hunters who come to the mountains to collect herbs, ordinary people would never set foot here.

"This really is a great place."

After making a comment, Zhang Mu tossed Tan Shihuai's corpse onto the cliff top where he had landed, then sat down cross-legged and closed his eyes to rest.

The location has been chosen.

Now all that's left is for midnight to arrive, and for the terracotta warriors to appear at night.

Tong Yuan, who had followed, did not approach.

He chose a hilltop about two miles away from this place and stood there, watching Zhang Mu sitting cross-legged on the ground from a distance.

As far as Tong Yuan's level is concerned.

There was absolutely no difference between standing two miles away and standing next to Zhang Mu.

Time passed slowly.

Half an incense stick's time before dawn, Zhang Mu, who was dozing, suddenly opened his eyes.

He looked up...

The stars and moon disappeared from the sky, and a leaden black curtain of sky slowly opened above his head.

Suddenly.

Accompanied by a deathly pale bolt of lightning tearing through the thick black curtain, the rising gale roared like countless evil spirits on the mountaintop.

Before the gale subsided.

A torrential downpour began, pelting down relentlessly.

It crashed onto the cliff with a thud.

It landed on the water below with a crackling sound.

"Boom!"

Another bolt of lightning struck, stretching for miles.

It landed not far from Zhang Mu, illuminating the scene in the desolate cliffside.

The water in the pool seemed to be boiling.

As it surged, black mist emerged from it.

The black fog was not the white fog created by moisture under the night sky, but an indescribable inky black.

In Zhang Mu's perception, it possessed an inherent stagnation and coldness.

Even from a great distance, one can feel a bone-chilling cold.

An ordinary person standing here would inevitably feel their breath catch in their throat and their chest feel tight.

"Playing tricks!"

"They even created a rainy night scene before their appearance; are they trying to make someone a second Huo Qubing?"

Zhang Mu stared into the black mist, and a black halberd appeared in his hand.

In response to Zhang Mu.

The sound of thunder was incessant, and all things in heaven and earth trembled in fear under the oppressive power of the thunder.

When the lightning stopped...

The black mist that was churning on the water surface shuddered and began to separate inwards, layer by layer.

There were no footsteps.

There was no human voice.

There was no soft rustling sound of the blades rubbing together.

From within the black mist, one after another, gray-blue terracotta warriors holding Qin-style bronze halberds slowly emerged from the depths of the mist.

These were not the static clay sculptures Zhang Mu had seen during his travels in his previous life, but rather living, ghostly soldiers.

The ancient Qin-style armor is covered with mottled moss and cracks from the passage of time.

The armor plates were stained with an inescapable deathly aura and gloom, and even the bronze halberds they held bore the marks of time and rust.

Their faces were stiff and expressionless.

Without sorrow or joy, without anger or fear.

There was no trace of human vitality, only an eternal, unchanging stillness and desolation.