Golden Core is a Star, and You Call This Cultivation?

"A battle of this magnitude, shaking heaven and earth, would be recorded in the annals of the Sixfold Heaven... It's a shame you were the only one to witness it," Qi Yuan remarked with a sigh.

These past few years of intense confrontation had been nothing short of nerve-wracking. Even Qi Yuan himself felt his usual tricks had run thin, so much so that he wished he could record the highlights, add a soundtrack of either epic or tragic music like Desolation, and create a compilation video showcasing the battles. It would surely astonish many cultivators across the Sixfold Heaven.

But Stone Pan only looked puzzled. Was this fight really that spectacular?

"Go on back. I need to review today’s performance and identify where I fell short. I can’t repeat the same mistakes tomorrow!"

With a wave of Qi Yuan's hand, Stone Pan vanished from sight, leaving him alone in the empty hall.

"When he threw in a roundabout insult about my mother, I’ll admit I almost lost my composure. Luckily, my black robe hid it well; he didn’t notice," Qi Yuan muttered.

"Tomorrow, I'll add a backing track, something to bolster my courage. With the right BGM, I’m invincible!"

The following day, warm sunlight shone through the spacious hall. The black-robed man lounged comfortably on a reclining chair, basking in the light. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps vibrated the ground, echoing as if the palace itself might collapse.

A hulking figure appeared, his frame massive like a double-door refrigerator. His gaze was deep, giving the impression of an imposing war god, come to slay demons and banish evil.

"Here you are," the man on the recliner said evenly, his tone calm and emotion hidden beneath his dark robes.

"Your grandpa’s here!" Dao Buer growled in a rough voice.

“Your grandpa’s lying right here,” Qi Yuan replied with the same calmness.

Dao Buer flinched as if struck by thunder. It was as if the god of thunder himself roared from the Nine Heavens above. His mind wavered, a hint of doubt flickering through his eyes. Could this black-robed man truly be my grandfather? Otherwise, how could he be immune to my Holy Light’s Command?

He quickly crushed the thought. “Hmph, I'm older than you, so that makes me your grandpa!” Dao Buer retorted smugly, confident he’d gained the upper hand.

“And is that why you refuse to bathe?” Qi Yuan responded flatly.

As he spoke, he clapped his hands. Sixty-seven spectral souls entered the hall, carrying red flowers, drums, and other instruments, their faces painted in exaggerated red and white, strikingly unusual.

“Cue the BGM!” Qi Yuan snapped his fingers.

The sixty-seven souls began to perform a lively dance, chanting joyfully, “Dao Buer doesn’t bathe!”

“Dao Buer doesn’t bathe!” Their voices and animated movements, accompanied by the energetic beat of drums, created a surreal scene.

Dao Buer’s expression twisted in embarrassment before he coldly sneered, “Resorting to such tactics, I see? You’re stuck in the role of the grandson!”

“Dao Buer doesn’t bathe!” Qi Yuan replied lazily.

“Is that all you’ve got? Afraid to face me directly?”

“Did you bathe last night?”

“You—” Dao Buer stammered.

Time flowed on, half a month slipping by. The grand hall and its surrounding areas, even for hundreds of miles, saw few visitors. Only the spectral soul army remained, training and working tirelessly to forge a disciplined military force.

Stone Pan, seated in his secluded chamber, glanced at a message on a jade slip, his eyes darkening. “Ah Qing, if you keep pressing this, we won’t even be friends anymore. Everything I have was given to me by my Master; how could I ever betray him?”

The message was from a female cultivator he knew, a sweet and charming woman. She held feelings for him and now tried to persuade him to leave. But how could he abandon Qi Yuan, to whom he owed everything?

Ah Qing only offered him emotional comfort—what else did she have to offer?

He put the jade slip into his storage pouch and ignored it.

“If the Holy Light Clan arrives... how will Master handle it?” he murmured. He had his own concerns; even though all the cultivators spoke of the Holy Light Clan's strength and the Holy Light Clan Leader’s invincibility, he sometimes felt unsettled.

<hr>

Far away, a group of cultivators gathered, anxiety in their faces.

"Tonight is the Supreme Yin Spectral Night. Following tradition, the Holy Light Clan leader is bound to appear. That… Sage may be in danger,” one murmured.

“Hmph, that Sage’s pride brought this on himself! After all, the Holy Light Clan is not to be trifled with.”

“Liu Xi, it’s a good thing you didn’t work for him; otherwise, you wouldn’t be alive to tell the tale!”

Liu Xi sipped his wine, his thoughts heavy, not responding.

“I heard that Sage… was gravely injured, his soul weakened, and now he’s mentally impaired. Apparently, for the past few years, he’s been in a constant insult war with a rogue cultivator,” another chuckled.

"Only someone out of his mind would stay here," another added.

Finally, Liu Xi said, "Regardless, without that Sage, we’d still have to hide in the wind tunnels on Spectral Nights. He’s done us a great service, so let's not speak ill of him."

The other cultivators shrugged and said no more.

"On every Supreme Yin Spectral Night, it’s said an ancient soul appears, towering over all… Maybe tonight we’ll finally catch a glimpse of that ancient power!"

An elder’s eyes glistened with curiosity. Typically, they hid away during Spectral Night, avoiding the roaming Spectral Souls. Now, with the spectral army bound by that Sage, they dared to venture out, safe from its dangers.

“That ancient soul... What kind of existence could it be? Could it rival a Great Supreme Truth?”

“A Great Supreme Truth is as strong as one can get,” a younger cultivator said nervously.

“This Heavenly Earth Mystical Land must have been a wondrous civilization in ancient times. What a pity,” one mused.

“Do you think the Sixfold Heaven will eventually end up the same way?”

“If so, we’d probably rank below the lowliest foot soldiers in the spectral army!”

Liu Xi quietly sipped his wine, lost in the others’ sighs.

As night fell, all the cultivators gathered. No one entered the wind tunnels this time. The night was hauntingly quiet; the wind carried an eerie chill.

After a while, a mournful and tragic horn sounded, resonating through the heavens and the earth. For a brief moment, every cultivator felt they were standing on an ancient battlefield.

Ruins, desolation, fire, blood… flashes of swords, broken warships hanging in the sky. Countless shadows and an overwhelming cacophony of battle cries.

And then silence.

It was like the ultimate expression of a soldier’s romance.

“There’s nothing there, yet I feel… a profound sorrow.”

“Such a battle must have been devastating.”

“A battlefield where not a single man survived!”

As emotions swept over the crowd, the sky suddenly turned blood-red. A tattered figure appeared.

“The ancient soul has appeared!”

“Look!”

They strained to see but could only make out a tattered robe. The figure’s body was gone, yet the robe remained, still holding its ground. Blood stained its fabric, though they couldn’t tell if it was the enemy’s or its wearer’s.

Suddenly, a vast voice echoed through the heavens.

“We are one. Return to your source!”

The cultivators turned their gaze to the sky and saw a blazing spot of holy light against the blood-red horizon.

Their breath caught.

“It’s… the Holy Light Clan Leader!”

In the crimson sky, that blinding holy light was unmistakable. Only the Holy Light Clan Leader could command such a force.

The cultivators trembled in reverence. Such a powerful being looked upon them as mere insects, far beneath his notice.

Outside the hall, Stone Pan froze at the sound. “This voice… why does it sound so familiar?”

The Holy Light Clan Leader’s voice was the same as the one who came to trade insults with Master every day. Could it be a coincidence? Or… Stone Pan felt a creeping suspicion.

High in the sky, Dao Buer gazed at the tattered robe, his expression grave.

“As I expected, he is immune to my Holy Light’s Command.”

His sole purpose for coming here was to obtain that robe. It was why he used every tactic to try and control the spectral army, hoping they would help him achieve his goal.

But the spectral army was beyond his control, and the robe was similarly unreachable.

“It seems that to secure the treasures here, I’ll have to…” Dao Buer’s gaze darkened.

He needed control over that mysterious black-robed man.

Although the black-robed man was challenging to subdue, he was far easier to handle than the tattered robe.

With renewed determination, Dao Buer continued, his voice booming with Holy Light’s Command. “We are one! Return to your source!”

This power echoed throughout the Heavenly Earth Mystical Land, heard by all the cultivators.

Liu Xi and the others looked on in shock.

“This is the might of a Yang God Sage?”

“If he weren’t constrained within the Mystical Land, he could probably devour it in a single breath!”

“Who among the Yang Gods of the Sixfold Heaven could withstand such a power?”

“Alas, with the Holy Light Clan here, that Sage’s fate is sealed.”

<hr>

Just then, a lazy voice interrupted.

“So that’s why you skipped our daily insults today—saving your strength to handle this big guy?”

The black-robed man appeared, his entire form cloaked in shadow.

The cultivators nearby turned, their expressions changing.

“It’s… the Sage?”

“Does he realize he’s facing a member of the Holy Light Clan?”

“Holy Light’s Command is supposed to be unstoppable, even a Great Supreme Truth can’t resist it. And yet…”

“Wait… insults… could it be?”

One of the cultivators suddenly remembered the rumors and turned pale. The others quickly connected the dots. Could this mysterious rogue cultivator really be the Holy Light Clan Leader?

If so, they had just witnessed an unthinkable revelation.

Dao Buer’s eyes burned with killing intent. “So, this whole time, you were only pretending to be weak!”

Qi Yuan chuckled, admitting easily, “You got me.”

Dao Buer’s energy was nearly exhausted, and Qi Yuan had become sloppy in his performance.

“Assist me in commanding this spectral soul, and I’ll spare your life,” Dao Buer said icily.

Even without Holy Light’s Command, Dao Buer felt confident he could kill Qi Yuan. And Qi Yuan had ventured into the Sixfold Heaven, so his fate was sealed.

“What gives you the confidence to think you could ‘spare me’?” Qi Yuan sneered. “Are you so brain-addled from all the days of not bathing?”

“Beneath the Great Supreme Truth, I am unbeatable,” Dao Buer said. “You’re no Great Supreme Truth, I’ve been watching you. What can you do against me?”

“Oh, I’m not a Great Supreme Truth,” Qi Yuan replied, “but don’t underestimate me. I may be just a Purple Mansion, but I can still defy fate!”

“Quit your bluffing. I’ve already determined you’re merely a Supreme Truth,” Dao Buer replied confidently.

“Your bloodline is intriguing,” Dao Buer continued coldly, “but if I can’t claim you, then I’ll destroy you.”

If he couldn’t control Qi Yuan, he’d simply obliterate him and search for another way to control the spectral soul.

“You’re too dangerous with that mindset. No wonder the spectral soul won’t listen to you. True respect requires sincerity,” Qi Yuan remarked.

His “charging station” had run dry; it was time to defeat Dao Buer once and for all.

Qi Yuan gestured to the spectral soul. “Old ghost, want to come dine at my place? Your brothers and sisters are all there.”

Dao Buer’s gaze flicked toward the spectral soul, shocked. Holy Light’s Command had failed entirely, yet Qi Yuan’s words caused the spectral soul to hesitate. With enough time, Qi Yuan might indeed be able to control the tattered robe.

Regret filled Dao Buer’s eyes. “Unruly dogs are best killed.”

Qi Yuan raised an eyebrow. “Time for a real fight?”

Dao Buer replied with silence, coldly watching Qi Yuan.

“Let’s be clear,” Qi Yuan said, “I’m not attacking out of frustration over losing the insult war. It’s just that your lack of respect and indiscriminate killing need correction. I’m here to administer justice!”

He wanted to clarify, lest the nearby cultivators assume he was merely a sore loser.

Across the distance, Liu Xi blinked and whispered, “Are we certain these two are Sages?”

“Doesn’t matter,” another muttered, looking on in disbelief.

“Spare us the talk, and prepare to die!” Dao Buer roared. He finally moved, making a frontal assault without Holy Light’s Command.

Most believed the Holy Light Clan’s power lay solely in their Holy Light’s Command. But Dao Buer, one of the Holy Light Clan’s top ten talents, had extraordinary combat strength.

In pure battle prowess, he could go toe-to-toe with a Great Supreme Truth for at least a few moves.

“You are not a Great Supreme Truth, so this is the end for you!” Dao Buer shouted.

A terrifying aura swept across the Heavenly Earth Mystical Land, draining the land of spirit energy. Even the cultivators’ own spirit energy seemed to vanish, leaving them like mortals.

But in the next breath, Dao Buer’s expression shifted as the black-robed man moved. “So what if I’m not a Great Supreme Truth? Just because I’m Purple Mansion, you think you can bully me?”

A red-armored figure appeared where Qi Yuan had been, a bloody sword in hand and an aura so deep it defied comprehension.

“With you out of power, I need only one sword strike!”

With that, he slashed. There was no fanfare, no dramatic shift in the environment, no upheaval in the Heavenly Earth Mystical Land, just a simple, unadorned strike.

Yet Dao Buer had no way to defend against it.

For before him stood Qi Yuan, wielder of the Ancestral Blood Art at the thirteenth level, in the Martial God state with battle power equal to the Great Supreme Truth realm, combined with Five Element Essence Refining, Heavenly Path Foundation, Stellar Core, Innate God-Demon Nascent Soul, and the unrivaled Sixfold Heaven’s First Purple Mansion.

The more titles, the greater Qi Yuan’s strength.

“Now I’ll kill you… with one stroke!”

With the swing of his blade, Dao Buer’s body shattered.

Seeing Dao Buer’s disbelieving expression, Qi Yuan thought of what he’d held back from saying.

“Child, you’ve shown up here every day—did you really think I couldn’t see through your weaknesses?”

After all, he’d found the flaw in the Ten Thousand Ghosts Banner through sheer observation. Dao Buer had been coming to trade insults with him daily—Qi Yuan even knew the color of his underwear by now.

One strike: Supreme Truth extinguished.

Such was the strength of Qi Yuan’s sword.

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