Chapter 66: A Man Determined to Transcend

The moment he saw that the Outer Heavenly Demon's cooldown had reset, Wang Ping felt as though a thousand-jin burden had been lifted from his shoulders. His trump card was back—he could run wild again!

A second later, however, his head grew heavy.

Although he quickly rallied his spiritual sense and cleared his thoughts, that split-second swoon was enough for the scenery before him to undergo an earth-shattering change.

It was a dilapidated cave dwelling.

The formations were old, the spiritual energy thin, and the space remarkably cramped, yet it served as a shelter for a family of three—this was the home from Pingjiangzi's childhood memories.

"What's going on?"

Wang Ping narrowed his eyes, only to realize that his own appearance had changed. He no longer looked like a middle-aged man, but a youth, and his cultivation had regressed to match.

Immediately after, a gentle and loving voice sounded beside him. "Ping'er, you must be tired from cultivating. Come, take this pill to speed up your progress."

Wang Ping turned toward the voice to see a middle-aged woman carefully cradling a medicine bottle. Treating it like a precious treasure, she withdrew a red pill and placed it in his hand. "Your father worked hard for half a month to buy this. Take it quickly, before the medicinal fragrance dissipates."

Pingjiangzi obediently swallowed the pill.

He then returned to his cushion and resumed his attempts to gather spiritual energy. The middle-aged woman did not leave; she simply sat down beside him.

"Keep at it, Ping'er, you can do it!"

The middle-aged woman cheered him on while watching him constantly, supervising his efforts to gather spiritual energy, terrified that he might waste even a single second.

"This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."

"Don't waste time playing with those people. You have an innate spiritual root and are meant to join the Immortal Gate in the future. Playing with them will only delay your cultivation."

"Don't worry, Mother will never let anyone look down on you."

"You will absolutely join the Immortal Gate!"

"To get you a better Spirit-Gathering Meditation Cushion, your father has already applied for a more dangerous mission. You have to work hard and not let him down."

"Mother will be right here with you the entire time."

"Focus on your cultivation!"

Pingjiangzi's memories vividly surfaced. Within the constructed scene, Pingjiangzi desperately clutched his head, appearing to be in tremendous pain.

Behind him, Wang Ping watched with cold detachment.

'Fake.'

This was clearly a spell targeting the soul, much like the Soul Pursuing technique he had used against Fairy Yuerou, designed to conjure an illusion.

'This Soul-Falling Studio Master really has no martial ethics. He secretly launched an attack while talking to me, and his methods are clearly a tier above mine. Pingjiangzi's memories have obviously been scrambled, sinking him into total oblivion. If my situation weren't special, I'd probably have been taken down by now.'

Wang Ping knew that Soul-Falling Studio Master's methods were genuinely brilliant.

Few cultivators could resist spells that struck directly at the soul.

However, the man was out of luck, as Wang Ping happened to be the exception—after all, the attack was targeting "Pingjiangzi's" memories. What did that have to do with Wang Ping?

As a result, while Soul-Falling Studio Master's attack successfully and precisely struck "Pingjiangzi," it had absolutely no effect on Wang Ping.

"Break... for me!"

The next second, Wang Ping decisively seized control of Pingjiangzi's body within the memory and slit his own throat. The scene before his eyes swiftly faded to black and then shattered.

Crack!

Like sunlight piercing through the night, his darkened vision was relit. The real-world scenery of Myriad Spirits Valley materialized once more, and Wang Ping regained his clarity.

Almost simultaneously, Soul-Falling Studio Master—who had already turned his back and wasn't looking at Wang Ping—sensed the change. He whipped his head around, astonishment flashing in his eyes, clearly not expecting "Pingjiangzi," an independent cultivator employee he had just fired, to break free from his spell's influence.

'What's going on?'

'He was clearly struck by my Dream Grafting. He should be sinking into an endless nightmare right now, trapped until his consciousness is completely worn away. How did he wake up?'

In the blink of an eye, Soul-Falling Studio Master's mind raced.

He knew he had fallen into a disadvantage; his misjudgment of "Pingjiangzi" had created a momentary opening in this instant.

'No, there's no need to fear.'

'He's just an independent cultivator. Even if I have an opening, he can't seize it...'

However, Wang Ping quickly shattered his wishful thinking as a bright, dazzling flame rose slowly from Wang Ping's sea of consciousness.

Spirit-Gathering Spike!

Wang Ping's response was incredibly fast. The acute perception granted by his martial Divine Intent allowed him to perfectly seize the opening Soul-Falling Studio Master had exposed, not delaying the opportunity for battle.

In an instant, the flame cast by the Spirit-Gathering Spike shot forward. The artifact moved with his will, traveling so fast it completely surpassed the limits of spiritual sense tracking. To Soul-Falling Studio Master, it was nothing more than a blur before the fatal spike landed right on the crown of his head!

In that instant, Soul-Falling Studio Master's expression drastically changed.

"Boom!"

The seething flames swallowed Soul-Falling Studio Master, illuminating the heavens above and piercing the earth below. The blast conjured layers of iridescent light that then shattered in rapid succession like colored glaze.

"..."

Witnessing this, Wang Ping felt not the slightest bit of joy. Instead, he held his breath, focused his mind, and sprinted swiftly toward Soul-Falling Studio Master's position.

Because he knew perfectly well:

'The feeling was wrong.'

The Spirit-Gathering Spike was linked to his spiritual sense, and the feedback it just returned wasn't the satisfaction of piercing through spiritual sense, but the helplessness of an attack running out of power.

Furthermore—the sense of crisis fed back by his martial Divine Intent had not lifted.

Sure enough, almost simultaneously, the seething flames were forcefully wiped away by an invisible hand, snuffing out instantly to reveal the scene at the center.

Soul-Falling Studio Master stood in place with an ugly expression. His dharma robe fluttered without wind, projecting a scripture of over a hundred characters. Each character supported a beam of precious light that formed an inverted protective dome around him, ultimately constructing a barrier over a hundred layers thick.

Over sixty of those layers had been smashed to pieces.

The Spirit-Gathering Spike was wedged right in the middle of those hundred-plus barriers, unable to advance or retreat. Though it continued to thrum, it clearly couldn't break free.

"You dare damage my magical artifact!"

Soul-Falling Studio Master was furious enough to fume from his ears. This Hundred-Ward Robe was a low-grade magical artifact he had meticulously forged, inscribed with a Vast Sun Golden Light Protection Spell.

The moment it encountered danger, the artifact would independently awaken and activate the Vast Sun Golden Light Protection Spell to form a flawless, hundred-layer defensive shield. It was meant to be a life-saving trump card for critical moments, yet from a single moment of carelessness, Wang Ping had directly shattered over sixty layers!

'Preposterous!'

'If I had reacted in time to channel my spiritual sense into the dharma robe, an attack of this level would have shattered thirty layers at most. How much dharma currency will it cost to repair this afterward?'

Even so, with a great enemy right in front of him, Soul-Falling Studio Master didn't dare agonize over the cost. He immediately withdrew his thoughts and cast a vigilant look at the charging Wang Ping.

Very quickly, however, a trace of disdain revealed itself in his eyes.

'He's just running over here like an idiot?'

'He doesn't even know any spells?'

And when he saw Wang Ping close the distance only to raise a fist, Soul-Falling Studio Master even wanted to laugh at himself for treating the man as a serious threat just moments ago.

'Did this Pingjiangzi actually dabble as a body cultivator on the side?'

Within the Immortal Gate, there had always been a clear and intuitive chain of contempt among cultivators.

In short, true transmission looked down on the inner sect, the inner sect looked down on the outer sect, and the outer sect looked down on independent cultivators... When it came down to independent cultivators, there were no other cultivators left to look down on.

Thus, over time, the independent cultivators carved out a distinct subgroup from within their own ranks to separate themselves from, adding them to the chain of contempt... These cultivators were body cultivators, who only knew spells to bolster the physical body and performed the least technical work for the lowest payouts of dharma currency.

Normally, just seeing a body cultivator would make Soul-Falling Studio Master feel his eyes were being sullied.

Let alone now.

Wang Ping's mood, meanwhile, remained completely unfluctuating. He crashed ferociously into the breach the Spirit-Gathering Spike had opened, then slowly extended his palm.

"Smack."

Fingers splayed wide and palm flush with blood, Wang Ping lightly pressed his hand against a layer of protective precious light lingering around Soul-Falling Studio Master.

The next second, Wang Ping's movements were so fast that even Soul-Falling Studio Master—who had already locked onto him with his spiritual sense—blanked for a moment, failing to see what he had actually done.

His palm seemed to move, yet also seemed unchanged. It was merely vibrating at an extremely minute frequency, transmitting this vibration into the protective precious light blocking his path. What finally appeared was an expanse of fine cracks spreading outward like ripples—

"Boom!"

Under Soul-Falling Studio Master's stunned gaze, a layer of protective precious light violently detonated. It shattered into a shower of iridescent light, lost its profundity, and swiftly dissipated into heaven and earth.

Wang Ping did not pause for even a moment.

A second step, a third, a fourth, a fifth... With every step he took, another layer of protective precious light shattered, detonating with a deafening boom!

Throughout the entire process, Wang Ping's expression remained incomparably serene.

Bolstered by thirteen doctrines of the Art of War, his Indestructible Vajra Body state made him look as imposing as a divine statue, exuding the suffocating pressure of a towering mountain.

Yet, his mind paid absolutely no attention to the obstacle before him, even detaching from it entirely. As he recalled the thunderstorm he had experienced days ago, he felt his blood rushing like torrential rain, and his footsteps booming endlessly like rolling thunder in the sky.

He was simulating that thunderstorm.

Outside the body lay a greater universe, while inside the body lay a lesser universe. Right now, he was attempting to use his internal lesser universe to manifest the spectacles of the greater universe!

"Bang!"

He threw a second palm strike, shattering yet another layer of protective precious light. Wang Ping's hands were already covered in webbed fissures, with beads of blood continuously oozing out.

But he paid them no heed whatsoever.

The sounds, colors, and many interfering factors of the outside world faded from Wang Ping's perception in that moment, leaving only the existence of Soul-Falling Studio Master.

His line of sight contained a potent martial Divine Intent. At this distance, with his step-by-step approach, it bore down ruthlessly on Soul-Falling Studio Master's heart.

Looking into Wang Ping's eyes, Soul-Falling Studio Master could even read Wang Ping's current thoughts:

[I will kill you.]

"...Arrogant!"

Soul-Falling Studio Master's spiritual sense vibrated. His sleeves flared wide open, and a brilliantly glowing precious saber leapt out from within, its blade aimed straight at the center of Wang Ping's brows.

This was also a low-grade magical artifact, named the Dream-Shattering Saber. He had forged this precious saber through thirty-three divorces, using the heart's blood and souls of thirty-three dao companions. It could perfectly complement his Dream Grafting spell; rather than cutting the physical body, it only severed the mind, directly shredding a cultivator's memories to pieces.

The next second, the precious saber plunged right between Wang Ping's brows.

Thereupon, the world spun round and round.

Wang Ping once again arrived in the memory scenes of "Pingjiangzi," witnessing the scene that had utterly broken this Immortal Gate independent cultivator, and heard that phrase—

"Sorry, you are fired."

An intense feeling of devastation howled out in that moment.

He had worked hard, truly worked hard, so why couldn't he obtain happiness? Or rather, why was his happiness so fragile?

So fragile that a simple sentence could shatter it.

Was it because he hadn't worked hard enough?

Was it because his luck was bad?

"Of course not."

In the memory, Soul-Falling Studio Master's voice sounded faintly: "Because this is destiny! Your lot as human livestock was predetermined from the very beginning!"

...

Seeing Wang Ping halt his steps, Soul-Falling Studio Master's lips curled up slightly.

In direct contrast to himself, who was completely unscathed and still had over thirty layers of protection from the Hundred-Ward Robe, the opponent had already sunk into the dreamscape and could no longer control his physical body.

Which meant... right! He had won!

"Thump."

The sound of a footstep interrupted Soul-Falling Studio Master's triumphant thoughts, and then he saw Wang Ping, who should have lost consciousness, raise his head again and look over at him.

His gaze was bright.

At this moment, Soul-Falling Studio Master fell into confusion, because the feedback coming from the Dream-Shattering Saber was clear: Pingjiangzi's memories should have been shattered by now.

What exactly was going on?

Why could he still move?

The next second, tossing his doubts aside, Soul-Falling Studio Master attacked again. This time, it wasn't just the Dream-Shattering Saber; two more artifacts materialized in his hands.

The Soul-Slaying Banner.

The Soul-Dispersing Bell.

Two magical artifacts corresponding to the two spells of Soul Pursuing and Soul Seizing respectively. Combined with the Dream-Shattering Saber and Dream Grafting, he was truly playing all his trump cards.

Almost immediately, Wang Ping felt three spells take effect on his body simultaneously. He perfectly blocked the Dream-Shattering Saber using Pingjiangzi's memories, but the other two caught him greatly by surprise—in an instant, not only did he lose control over his physical body, but fissures suddenly burst open all over him.

'This is...!?'

This sudden anomaly instantly reminded Wang Ping of the time before crossing over into the Immortal Gate, when his soul had been attacked remotely by the Great Shun's strange arts at the Longxing County Yamen.

'It's exactly the same.'

First stripping his control over his own body, then moving straight for decapitation—no, there was a difference. Soul-Falling Studio Master had failed to directly sever his head.

Why?

Wang Ping quickly saw the answer. In Soul-Falling Studio Master's hand, his current name was starkly written in blood on the Soul-Slaying Banner.

Pingjiangzi.

'The name is wrong; there's a problem with the medium, so the effect is limited!'

Realizing this, a smile immediately broke out on Wang Ping's face. With his previous experience, he regained control of his body even faster this time.

As for why Soul-Falling Studio Master's methods perfectly coincided with the Great Shun's strange arts, he had no mind to consider that right now.

Immediately following that, he took a step forward again.

Seeing this, Soul-Falling Studio Master finally took an unconscious step back as if he had seen a ghost, his voice carrying an extra note of disbelief.

"Why can you not die?"

"Why are you still not dead?!"

He activated the magical artifacts in his hands even more desperately, casting spells to carve one fatal wound after another into Wang Ping's body, yet it was still to no avail.

Courage of the Noble Gentleman!

At this moment, the scripture scroll he had obtained from the Lin Family Mansion, which Wang Ping had never managed to activate, finally seemed to meet its usage conditions. Its radiance was lit.

Once the scripture scroll was activated, short of a decisively fatal wound, no injury could impede Wang Ping's movements, much less affect his state. In the scripture scroll's judgment, even decapitation did not count as a fatal injury, as long as his head was not blown up and turned to meaty paste!

Besides, you were attacking Pingjiangzi; on what grounds would that make me, Wang Ping, stop?

Amidst the layers of shattering protective precious light, Wang Ping finally arrived in front of Soul-Falling Studio Master, then raised his arm, his five fingers clenching tightly into a fist.

Only then did Soul-Falling Studio Master finally recognize reality.

He could not defeat the independent cultivator before him.

In a flash, he rebuilt his psychological defenses, decisively casting away all frustration, unwillingness, and fury to make the most correct choice available:

'Avoid his edge for now...'

Immediately after, light flared beneath his feet. In just a fraction of a second, he would be able to ride the escape light to safety. The other party certainly wouldn't be able to catch him.

But it was also at this exact moment.

"........."

All sound receded. The explosive noise of the shattering protective precious light suddenly vanished, and the clamor abruptly turned to stillness, as if time itself had come to a halt in this moment.

Startled, Soul-Falling Studio Master tried even harder to channel his escape light. Yet, to his growing anxiety, the escape light that should have surged upward in the blink of an eye was now crawling like a turtle. Its speed was inconceivably slow, and no matter how much spiritual sense he poured into it, he couldn't make it speed up in the slightest.

'Why is this happening?'

'I saw it with the Fate-Peering Bone-Slicing Mirror! My destiny should have been to blood-sacrifice everyone here and successfully forge my dharma power! Why is this happening!'

The next second, Soul-Falling Studio Master heard a voice.

More accurately, it wasn't a voice, but a kind of "intent" carrying substantial force. It pierced the void and interfaced with him, allowing him to understand:

"Why do you believe in destiny?"

A laughable question.

"Because destiny is ordained by immortals! Fortune in this life is the foundation from the previous life, and the hardships of this life are the blessings of the next life! This is the natural order of heaven and earth!"

"I see, I understand."

The voice continued to sound: "It makes people give up their struggle, choosing instead to accept their current suffering with peace of mind. From birth to death, generation after generation, endlessly cycling."

"If this is what you call destiny."

In his mind, Pingjiangzi's memories of his long life constantly surfaced, constructing a young man with graying temples in Wang Ping's sea of consciousness.

He was expressionless, weeping silently.

Until Wang Ping firmly grasped his hand.

In this moment, Wang Ping's mind was incomparably clear. His will-filled voice was deafening, making a declaration not only to Soul-Falling Studio Master, but also to Pingjiangzi:

"Then I am a man determined to transcend it!"

Stand up, you who refuse to be bound by destiny.

Do not cry, keep walking forward.

March forward!

At this moment, Soul-Falling Studio Master's mind was severely shaken, feeling that the independent cultivator before him had gone insane.

"What nonsense about being determined to transcend! Destiny is established by the immortals. Defying destiny is defying the will of the immortals; it is rebellion, and even worse, high treason!"

"What an ugly way to put it."

Within the quiet world, Wang Ping's voice was soaring and passionate. Matching it was a fist that pierced straight through Soul-Falling Studio Master's abdomen.

"What rebellion, what treason... I call it—"

The martial artist's fist force pierced the cultivator's dharma body, sending blood spraying out. Soul-Falling Studio Master's vision instantly turned black, leaving only a faint, ethereal echo in his ears:

"Purging the Immortals' Side!"