Otherworld Advance Team
Chapter 1657 - 1650: The Figure of a Celestial

Chapter 1657: Chapter 1650: The Figure of a Celestial

Speaking of those who cannot cultivate yet actively embrace this system—the first group that must be mentioned is undoubtedly the people of Earth.

Earthlings have developed an entire, comprehensive system and set of regulations around Otherworld magic. Yet, ironically, Earthlings cannot cultivate at all.

Not only are they unable to, but the magic of the Otherworld constantly corrodes their bodies. Once the erosion reaches their internal organs, even an immortal deity couldn’t save them.

The saying "social existence determines social consciousness" holds true here: growing up in the Otherworld, exposed to the concept of magic from an early age, whether an Earthling or an Otherworlder, it is only natural to attempt to harness this power—it’s beyond reproach.

To enforce a ban preventing Otherworlders from learning to wield magic in the name of Earth’s modern civilization would be foolish. It would ignore objective reality.

Thus, Western Continent people aspire to become mages, and Eastern Continent people yearn for cultivation—this is inherently determined by societal realities. Those who disapprove of this system are hardly worth praising; likewise, those who advocate for it shouldn’t be excessively criticized.

The wild folk of Qi State dislike the cultivation evaluation system of Kyushu, because they have their own methods to deal with magic. But in truth, as long as magic naturally exists, the cultivation system will scarcely undergo major changes.

The Advance Team can only advise the Dongsheng Empire not to recklessly infringe on West Outer Heaven’s interests. As for the inherent and irreconcilable conflict between Kyushu people and the Demon Clan, they haven’t found more solutions.

Perhaps the magic system of the Western Continent can slightly ease the tension between Kyushu people and the Demon Clan, but it can’t ensure everyone’s enthusiasm for the new system. This means their conflicts will exist long-term, only somewhat mitigated.

Seeing Cheng Ziang fall silent, Bahàn began explaining, "The Demon Clan are actually quite reclusive. They don’t like interacting with us too much. They live next to our town but barely communicate with us. When there’s trouble with outsiders, they often come to help—but I think they’re more afraid of outsiders than anything else."

As the two were talking, Bahàn’s clansmen removed the barricade from the road, started clearing the weeds and brush along the path, and placed fresh wooden signs near areas with traps to prevent carts from accidentally triggering them.

With so many mechanisms and traps, even though the Advance Team removed the barricade, the upcoming journey was bound to be challenging. They should feel fortunate they encountered these wild folk—at least they wouldn’t suffer too much.

Cheng Ziang was surprised as he watched their actions, then turned to Bahàn again and asked, "How did those Demon Clan folks end up here?"

"They’re all refugees, former slaves," Bahàn gestured as he explained. "Our people are enemies of the outsiders. When the Demon Clan escape their clutches, they run to us. Some came with the outsider army but were captured by us. Many chose to stay. But the conditions here are bad—life’s hard for both them and us."

"Thank you. You all have hearts of gold. May the divine protect you," Cheng Ziang said emotionally, grasping Bahàn’s hand.

"Eh? What’s going on? What did we do? Why is the guest so moved?" Bahàn asked, bewildered.

"Haven’t you thought about it? Many of those Demon Clan were once slaves," Cheng Ziang ventured.

"Oh, the Wu Family’s way—don’t bother mentioning them. All they know is cultivation; they’re useless fools who even need feeding during meals. Our leader says, for good days, you rely on yourself—not on giving orders to others," Bahàn replied, waving his hand awkwardly.

"Your leader seems to be quite a character," Cheng Ziang nodded, expressing admiration.

"Our leader is the most formidable among us. Without her, we wouldn’t have been able to defeat the outsider army."

"I have a question," Cheng Ziang suddenly thought of something and asked, "If the Demon Clan live alongside you, do the officials sent by the Imperial Court manage them?"

"Of course they do," Bahàn replied without hesitation, "That guy’s kindhearted but scatterbrained. He oversees us, the martial artists, and the Demon Clan—constantly running around all day."

"That official seems pretty dedicated," Cheng Ziang nodded in approval.

"Wait, why are there martial artists here?" he asked, suddenly puzzled.

"Oh, there are quite a few martial artists where we live, so it’s a bit chaotic. Although our leader can keep them in check, they love pulling sneaky tricks," Bahàn explained.

"Who would’ve thought your place is so lively," Cheng Ziang said, almost disbelieving.

"Outsiders are diehard loyalists to the Wu Family; they’ve offended so many people. The Wen Family, the martial artists, and even the Demon Clan—they’ve angered all of them. Our leader always says they’ll destroy themselves sooner or later. Letting such people occupy our land is a disgrace," Bahàn said, clenching his fist.

"I didn’t expect you to treat the Demon Clan so kindly. I thank you all in advance," Cheng Ziang said sincerely.

"Why thank us? Are you all Demon Clan or something?" Bahàn asked, slightly surprised.

"No, but we’re committed to peace between Kyushu and West Outer Heaven. Anything beneficial to peace earns our gratitude," Cheng Ziang explained.

"If you’re grateful, you should thank our leader. She teaches us to treat the Demon Clan kindly," Bahàn said, scratching his head, a bit embarrassed.

"I’d very much like to meet your leader," Cheng Ziang said expectantly.

As the two continued chatting, the carriage suddenly stopped. Moments later, Feng, who had been driving, jumped down and bowed slightly toward the carriage.

Just as Cheng Ziang felt puzzled, the door of the carriage opened. Tangmo, wearing a hood, stepped out slowly and opened the door wider.

Then, a pure, sacred figure emerged from the carriage—Luo’er, dressed in ceremonial attire. No, he should now be addressed as the Saint.

He gazed down at Cheng Ziang and Bahàn, his eyes aloof yet gentle, radiating purity. Though his demeanor was high and distant, it exuded a serene warmth, making his presence feel both approachable and untouchable.

"Greetings, Saint..." Cheng Ziang took a deep breath, dropped to one knee, and bowed his head respectfully.

Though Luo’er was role-playing, his act thoroughly overwhelmed Cheng Ziang. He hadn’t expected Luo’er’s portrayal of the Saint to be so convincing—it felt as though a true Saint stood before him.

Soft light emanated from behind Luo’er, illuminating his upper body and veiling his face in a holy aura, enhancing his divine image.

Undoubtedly, this was Fula’s handiwork.

Bahàn stared wide-eyed at Luo’er, his mouth agape; not just him, all the wild folk present were frozen in place, staring at Luo’er in awe.

"Thank you for what you’ve done for the Demon Clan. May fortune always be on your side, and may martial luck flourish," Luo’er said with a serene voice he had practiced tirelessly. His unique tone complemented his attire and appearance, making him seem ethereal and divinely sacred.

"N-no, no... it’s nothing..." Faced with Luo’er’s gratitude, Bahàn froze, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly, struggling to form words.

"Thank you, everyone," Luo’er nodded toward the others, then quickly returned to the carriage.

But he left a pure and holy impression in everyone’s hearts. Whenever they recalled this image, they would instantly think of Luo’er’s ethereal voice.

Though it was mere theatrics, Luo’er’s idol-like portrayal left a deep imprint, stirring their emotions and leaving an indelible mark on their memories.

After a long while, Cheng Ziang finally rose. He turned to Bahàn, who took even more time to recover and pointed at the carriage in shock, asking, "Was... was that the Saint?"

"You’re truly lucky. I’ve hardly had the chance to see the Saint a few times myself," Cheng Ziang said, shrugging nonchalantly, without blinking.

"Truly born with heavenly potential, worthy of the title of Saint..." Bahàn exhaled deeply, but the awe in his heart remained undiminished.