Nameless Territory, Chapter 102: The Entrance Fee to Freewind City

The death of Zhou Xuanhong drew the attention of everyone present. A wave of sighs rippled through the crowd; no one had expected such a talented formation prodigy to be snuffed out so abruptly.

Aside from a select few, most of the cultivators felt little turbulence in their hearts. In truth, they had all harbored some level of envy and jealousy toward Zhou’s schemes and his natural aptitude for arrays. Now that he was dead, they felt a sense of relief.

However, the drama that followed was unexpected. None of them had anticipated that the First Disciple of the Taiyin Extreme Corpse Sect would react so violently to Zhou Xuanhong's death. Logically, she had maintained an indifferent attitude toward his fate for years; why was she so out of control now? Could it be... that she hadn't been possessed after all?

But if she hadn't been possessed, why had she avoided him all these years, choosing instead to act aloof and detached from the world? Was there some hidden secret? They dared not ask, so they watched Zhu Xiaona as she rushed out of the room, eager to see what she would do next.

After killing Zhou Xuanhong, the white-haired elder spoke to Zhu Xiaona with a profound look: "Do you still have feelings for him?"

Zhu Xiaona did not answer. She stood frozen for a long time before turning back to her room, her thoughts a mystery to all.

The white-haired elder ordered everyone onto the flying vessel. Shortly after, three more elders at the late Nascent Soul stage or higher descended from the mountains and landed on the floating raft’s upper deck. Finally, the white-haired elder flickered and vanished; no one knew where he had gone.

The raft soon set off. It did not rely on raw speed; instead, it tore through space, traveling within a different dimension. This was the true meaning of the term "floating raft." The journey was a passage through space, constantly shifting between the illusory and the real.

Spatial manipulation was a law only truly glimpsed by those who had reached the Nascent Soul stage—only they possessed the strength to fracture space for brief traversals. The raft served as a vessel for these journeys, refined to make traversing space more stable, faster, and less energy-intensive; its own physical speed was actually quite slow.

Its essence was the process of constantly taking shortcuts. Beyond the primary space of the main world lay a secondary dimension where spatial fluctuations allowed one to bypass the "straight lines" of the main world—which were, in reality, curved, long paths—to achieve a true, geometric straight line between destinations.

In simpler terms, if one looked down from the main space, the path between two points appeared as a straight line, but within the secondary space, it was a curve. It was not a curve in the literal sense, but a winding path as perceived from the secondary dimension. Places that took only a few steps to reach in the secondary space required thousands of miles in the main world, making the "straight line" feel like a curve.

To put it even more colloquially, it was like the transition from two dimensions to three: draw a point on a piece of paper, fold it, and the point moves to the other side. The same applied to the primary and secondary spaces—a law of heaven and earth that could only be understood once one’s cultivation reached a certain level.

Once one attained that realm, their fundamental knowledge of space expanded—or perhaps became shallow, as a journey that once took years could now be completed in a month. With greater speed and a straighter path, the world felt smaller. It was also a process of the cultivator gradually shedding their mortal frame; many things had to be experienced personally to grasp their profound mysteries.

The Golden Core cultivators stood on the deck, watching the bizarre and illusory space outside. Occasionally, remnants of shattered space flickered by, and in the distance, they could even see a powerful Nascent Soul Master tearing through the main world’s fabric. That was a guardian from the Shangguan family watching over their disciples before finally departing toward their ancestral home.

For these cultivators, this journey was an opportunity. Perhaps when they eventually reached the Nascent Soul stage, they would be able to grasp the power of spatial laws more quickly.

The raft was vast, and everyone had their own rooms, though they were confined to the first deck. Only the disciples of the Taiyin Extreme Corpse Sect resided on the second deck, where space was more abundant and the spiritual energy provided for cultivation was purer.

With the journey expected to take less than a month, few were in closed-door meditation. Most stood on the deck, gazing at the brilliant secondary space, discussing team-ups, or asking about the rules of the Great World Trial. The Great World opened only once every hundred years; a cultivator could participate only once in a lifetime, so information was passed down through elders or jade slips.

Shangguan Yixin chose to seclude herself. She was boiling with suppressed frustration, so she locked herself away, using the Gale Bone-Scraping Array and the Thunderous Array to temper her body, as if that could alleviate the heavy resentment in her heart.

In a room not far away, a handsome man wearing a purple-gold crown and matching robes, holding a purple-gold feathered fan, stepped out with a faint smile. An aura of scholarly elegance radiated from him, making him look incredibly distinguished—clearly someone of high standing.

As he reached the deck, he immediately drew the attention of everyone present.

"Why is everyone staring? Do I have something valuable on my face?"

Shangguan Liming, standing nearby, was intrigued by someone whose presence seemed even more imposing than his own. He approached and cupped his hands: "You look unfamiliar, fellow daoist. You weren't among the original five hundred, were you?"

The handsome man locked eyes with Shangguan Liming—or rather, his gaze settled on the storage ring on his finger and the token at his waist. He gave a warm, enthusiastic smile: "No matter! Though we are strangers, I feel a kinship with you at first sight. Why don't we become sworn brothers?"

As he spoke, he reached out, hooking an arm around Shangguan Liming’s shoulder while his other hand began to stroke Liming’s palm with meticulous care.

Shangguan Liming felt a chill run down his spine. He quickly stepped away, laughing awkwardly: "You jest, fellow daoist. Friendship must be cultivated; such things cannot be rushed!"

The handsome man raised the hand that had touched Liming and sniffed it, appearing thoroughly intoxicated. This behavior caused the surrounding cultivators to recoil in disgust.

"Rushed? Why not? I feel we even look a bit alike! Why don't we go over there for a deeper discussion?"

Yin Qimeng, who had been chatting with the Kunmi disciples of the Kungu Sect, saw the man’s repulsive behavior. She hurried over, pulled Shangguan Liming away, and cast a fierce glare at the man before leaving.

Seeing Liming depart, the handsome man smiled to himself and walked to a corner of the deck. With a wave of his hand, he produced a bundle from his storage ring. Upon closer inspection, the bundle was made of stitched-together spiritual robes, covered in patches.

He spread the cloth, revealing dozens of formation disks ranging from the third to fourth grade—roughly thirty in all. They emitted a profound and majestic aura.

He stood on the guardrail, hands behind his back, his hair billowing in the wind. Gazing into the distance, his purple-gold attire made him look truly extraordinary.

"I was once the monarch of a mortal kingdom, but due to my indulgence in wine and song, the nation went bankrupt. Just as I was about to starve, I was saved by a senior from the Taiyin Extreme Corpse Sect, who saw my talent for cultivation and taught me the Dao. I recently emerged from seclusion and was gifted this storage ring by the Supreme Elder upon boarding the ship—it seems it belonged to someone who offended him and was executed. Upon opening it, I found these disks. As I am currently short on funds, I am willing to sell them at a low price to any interested fellow daoist."

The crowd had listened intently at first, feeling a sense of awe, but by the end, they realized the situation was absurd. He was just trying to sell the belongings of a dead man!

Everyone recognized these as the late Zhou Xuanhong's artifacts. To think the Supreme Elder had given them to this person—what was his background?

Regardless of their confusion, the disks were genuine, high-quality items. One could clearly feel the powerful laws contained within. If one could arm themselves with these, their combat prowess would far exceed that of most peers.

"Fellow daoist, how much for the disks?"

The man looked at the well-dressed cultivator and pondered. "These disks are all different, so the prices vary. Which one do you want?"

The visitor, a late-stage Golden Core cultivator from a major faction, pointed to the strongest-looking containment array among the thirty-two. "This one. How many spirit stones?"

The handsome man gave a thumbs-up. "Excellent eye! You picked the most valuable one immediately. I see we have a connection, so I’ll give you a ‘friendship price’: four thousand middle-grade spirit stones!"

The cultivator’s lip twitched. He was a disciple of a major faction, but four thousand middle-grade spirit stones was an impossible sum.

"Isn't that price a bit too high? I’m afraid it’s beyond my means."

As the man turned to leave, the handsome man grabbed him, looking pained. "Don't go, fellow daoist! We can negotiate; it’s not a fixed price. If you’re short on stones, we can trade items. Think about it: if you encounter a Nascent Soul cultivator under two hundred years old, even if they suppress their cultivation, wouldn't they kill you with ease? But with a fourth-grade array on you, your life would at least be safe!"

The cultivator was indeed tempted. "Then what price do you propose?"

The handsome man shook his head. "You misunderstand, brother. I’ve already named my price. The final cost depends entirely on your own skills."

"What do you mean?"

The handsome man chuckled. "Tell me, brother, have you ever heard of the entrance fee for Xiaoyao City?"