Transmigrated into a Grandpa, Embracing the Laid-Back Life

Chapter 236: Bloodfire of the Four Clans

Early morning, the mist over the Cloud Mist Mountain Range had yet to disperse, and glistening dew drops condensed on the light membrane of the formation around Clear Stream Valley.

Su Ming, clad in the cyan outer sect disciple's robe, the Formation Peak iron token hanging at his waist, walked out of his cave dwelling with a solemn expression.

Today was his first lesson after being promoted to the outer sect. According to the sect's ironclad rule, all newly promoted disciples, regardless of talent or background, must go to "Teachings Peak" to listen to the "Cloud Hidden Ten Thousand Years Chronicle."

"Master, what do you think this first lesson will be about?" Su Ming asked in his consciousness sea as he changed into the robe and fastened the token. His Cloud Treading Boots stepped on the ground without a sound; he had already integrated the Aura Concealment Art into his daily walking, sitting, and resting.

"About what?" Lin Yu's phantom image sat cross-legged inside the ring, his voice tinged with a world-weary cynicism. "It certainly won't be teaching you classical literature or benevolence and morality. If everyone in this Cloud Hidden Sect truly believed in that set, they would have been devoured long ago, not even scraps remaining. In my view, this first lesson is to make you recognize—what a grinder of flesh and blood this world is; what a situation of the weak being prey to the strong you are in."

Su Ming's steps paused slightly, then immediately returned to normal. His figure, like a wisp of cyan smoke, shot out of the cave dwelling, merging into the morning mountain mist as he swiftly headed towards Teachings Peak.

The main hall of Teachings Peak was as majestic as a divine palace.

Hundreds of dark jade pillars, thick enough to require several people to encircle, rose from the ground, supporting the lofty dome. The dome was no ordinary thing; it was paved with "Zhou Tian Star Jade." At this moment, it slowly rotated, simulating the real trajectory of the starry sky outside, casting down a cold, clear radiance.

Inside the hall, several hundred newly promoted disciples stood solemnly. No one spoke; there were only faint sounds of breathing and the rustle of clothing. An intangible pressure permeated the air, as if a giant beast lurked in the shadows, gazing at every fledgling who had just entered these gates.

Suddenly, the star map on the dome blazed with light!Not a gentle light, but a searing white bolt of lightning that tore through the hall's tranquility and slammed down onto the central high platform!

Boom—

making eardrums ache and blood and

figure

showing no trace of old age, only a pair of eyes that shone terrifyingly bright. Wherever his gaze swept, it felt as if a substantial sword edge scraped across the skin, the sting

in charge of outer sect transmission

metal, each word hammering into the hearts of the crowd. "Today's first lesson will not discuss breathing techniques, nor transmit arts and spells. I only ask you one

as lightning, piercing every face below—some frightened, some

know what land lies beneath

Gu

star map on the dome instantly dimmed, replaced by a massive light screen that blotted out the sky.

scene: The human

the land was scorched red for a thousand miles, smoke of battle yet to disperse. Countless human cultivators wearing various

craters. But more common were claws tearing through protective spiritual light, fangs biting through necks. Scorching demon blood

at the sky, its sonic waves collapsing half a city wall. It casually grabbed a rune-inscribed war chariot and hurled it into the human formation like throwing a stone, sending flesh

recorded scene of the 'Sky Wind Plain Campaign' from eighty years ago." Gu He's voice was icy, devoid of any emotion. "The opponent was the 'Red Rock Tribe' of the Ten Thousand Demon Ancestral Court. In this battle, the allied forces of our human race's three sects and seven schools lost seventeen Golden Core cultivators, over three hundred Foundation Establishment cultivators, and countless Qi

silence below, so quiet one could hear a pin drop. Many disciples began to tremble, their

The dark abyss, Ghost Wailing

howling Yin winds and flickering ghost

dense, impenetrable gray-black Yin energy, shadowy, distorted figures

broken armor; others were just blurry black shadows

One cultivator was pierced through the chest by an invisible ghost hand, instantly turning ashen, his essence blood and soul sucked dry, collapsing into a withered corpse. On another side, a ghost general wielding a rusty giant axe cleaved through

Sect's jurisdiction. The ghost race forces from the Netherworld Realm constantly attempt to erode the Yang world, plundering living souls and blood energy to strengthen themselves. Guarding this place requires