Starting at the Nascent Soul stage, a rogue cultivator is incredibly poor.

one year later.

The night in Kitahara is as thick as ink that cannot be dissolved.

The cold wind swirled with tiny ice crystals, making a howling sound as it swept across the barren frozen ground.

A streak of bluish-green light silently pierced the sky amidst the boundless darkness and chill.

Within the ethereal light, Qing Youzi, clad in a black robe and wearing a bamboo hat, with flickering blue flames, added to his mystique in the darkness.

His injuries had long since healed, but the loss of his vital essence was ultimately difficult to replenish.

After more than a year of rest and recuperation, I have only recovered slightly.

At this moment, even against an ordinary mid-stage Nascent Soul cultivator, he felt he had an 80% chance of winning.

His purpose for this trip was clear: to reach the Snow Wolf tribe, thousands of miles away.

One of the two overlords of the Northern Plains, he possesses profound resources and numerous experts. However, as long as he doesn't reveal his true colors and conceals his presence with his azure flames, even a late-stage Nascent Soul cultivator might not be able to easily detect his whereabouts.

He had no intention of participating in that ridiculous formation competition in the usual way.

Since the other party is eager for experts in formations, why not go ahead and see what they want to break?

If successful, it can save a year and avoid countless troubles; if not, one can quietly retreat and seek what one needs elsewhere.

With his mind made up, the light in his escape shot increased by three times, disappearing into the deep night and heading straight for the northwest.

An hour later, deep within the Snow Wolf tribe.

Inside a magical cave, pearls were embedded in the walls, illuminating the entire room, yet they could not dispel the oppressive atmosphere in the air.

"Elder, are you truly confident you can break through the ancient formation on the Holy Mountain this time?"

The speaker was a middle-aged man wearing a fur coat with a sharp face. He was at the early stage of the Nascent Soul realm and had a hint of anxiety between his brows.

His gaze fell upon the elderly man sitting quietly in the main seat.

The old man wore a snow-white wolf-hair cloak, had a thin face, and three long strands of beard hanging down to his chest. He was the Great Elder of the Snow Wolf Tribe, with a mid-stage Nascent Soul cultivation.

Upon hearing this, he slowly stroked his long beard, without raising his eyelids:

"Hold on? What's there to hold on to?"

The voice was calm, yet it carried a weariness born from repeated disappointments.

"From our generation to our ancestors, we have tried to break the formation more than a hundred times. The formation deep in the sacred mountain is as if it were made by nature, as if it were a work of divine craftsmanship. After nearly ten thousand years of wear and tear, it is still beyond our ability to shake."

"To this day, we cannot even glimpse the truth about whether the cave inside the mountain is the dwelling of our ancestors or another world."

The middle-aged man paced back and forth in the room a couple of times, the soles of his boots scraping against the stone floor, making a soft rustling sound.

"But upon recent observation, the array's spiritual light seems to have dimmed slightly... It seems that with the passage of time, its power is inevitably waning. Perhaps we should wait a little longer..."

"wait?"

The elder suddenly interrupted him, raising his eyelids with a sharp gaze like that of an old wolf on an icy plain.

"The previous generation of Nascent Soul cultivators, and the generation before that, thought the same thing!"

"And the result? Thousands of years have passed in the blink of an eye, and the sacred mountain remains tightly closed. The opportunity is still right before our eyes, yet it remains unattainable! Wait for the formation to dissipate naturally? Ha, I'm afraid that even when our lifespans are exhausted and we turn into withered bones, it may still not open!"

The cave fell silent instantly.

Only the shimmering light of the pearl reflected the uncertain expressions on the two men's faces.

The middle-aged man opened his mouth, seemingly wanting to ease the tension, but didn't know where to begin.

Just then.

The Grand Elder, who had been sitting quietly, suddenly stood up! His movements were as fast as lightning, and he didn't even care that he knocked over the teacups on the jade table beside him.

His old eyes were fixed on the direction of the cave entrance, his body was filled with surging magical power, and a tortoise shell-shaped natal magic weapon had appeared in front of him, emitting a hazy yellow light.

"Who's there!?"

A low shout exploded in the stone chamber.

The middle-aged man was taken aback at first, then his expression changed drastically.

He didn't notice anything unusual! His divine sense instantly swept towards the cave entrance, where the warning array and defensive restrictions were... as calm as ever, without any signs of being triggered or damaged.

But in the next instant, a strange and powerful aura, like ink dripping into still water, suddenly appeared outside the cave entrance.

Mid-stage Nascent Soul!

Tap, tap, tap...

The unhurried footsteps, coming from the outside in, clearly reached their ears. Each step seemed to tread on the intervals between their heartbeats.

The middle-aged man's pupils contracted sharply. In the blink of an eye, a long spear with flowing golden light appeared in his hand. The tip of the spear trembled slightly as it locked onto the cave entrance.

"How is that possible?!"

The elder's beard and hair moved without wind, and the tortoise shell magic treasure shone brightly, protecting his entire body.

A figure silently stepped into the area shrouded in the brilliance of the pearl.

A black robe, a bamboo hat, and a hanging blue fire curtain swaying eerily, obscuring his face; only a calm, abyss-like, yet strangely cold, aura emanated from him.

The newcomer stopped, standing several feet away, facing the two men who looked as if they were facing a formidable enemy.

The air inside the cave seemed to have frozen.

A moment later, a soft chuckle broke the deathly silence from behind the blue curtain of fire.

"Fellow Daoists, why are you so tense?"

His voice was flat and emotionless.

The middle-aged man's spear tip gleamed with golden light as he shouted sharply:

"Who are you? How did you get in?!"

Qingyouzi tilted his head slightly, as if he were sizing up the two of them, or perhaps observing the layout of the cave.

He didn't answer directly, but just casually shrugged.

"That's how they walked in."

His tone was so casual, as if he were just talking about today's weather.

"Arrogant!"

The middle-aged man roared, his spear gleaming with golden light, and an incomparably sharp aura rose up as he prepared to strike.

"Wait a minute!"

The elder suddenly spoke up and stopped them, placing a hand on the middle-aged man's arm holding the gun.

His gaze was like a hook, scanning Qingyouzi up and down carefully, especially the seemingly thin layer of blue fire curtain that his divine sense could not penetrate.

It can silently bypass or even break through multiple layers of formations.

It was set up by several renowned array masters that he specially invited.

It wasn't until the other party deliberately revealed a trace of their aura that they were shocked to realize that this person's mastery of formations was truly terrifying.

More importantly, the other party didn't choose a sneak attack, but instead appeared openly. Was it confidence? Or did they have ulterior motives and not want to escalate the conflict?

In a flash, several thoughts raced through the old man's mind. His hostility lessened slightly, but his vigilance intensified.

The solemn look on his face slowly faded, replaced by a slightly stiff smile. He cupped his hands in a respectful gesture.

"Excellent, excellent technique! Fellow Daoist's mastery of formations is profound and unfathomable; I admire you greatly."

He clapped his hands to himself.

"but."

"Fellow Daoist, you've come uninvited, infiltrating my tribe's sacred territory. Surely you haven't come just to show off your skills? Could it be... that you've come for the 'Array Formation Tournament,' or rather, for the matter of my tribe's sacred mountain?"

Qingyouzi remained silent for a moment.

The fire curtain swayed slightly, and the gaze behind it seemed to be weighing its options.

He knew that denying it now would only deepen the other party's suspicions, which would be counterproductive. Those with ulterior motives are sometimes safer and easier to cooperate with than those without.

He then nodded slightly, his voice carrying a metallic, abrasive quality as it came through the fire curtain:

"Ancient formations are profound and unfathomable. I have some knowledge of them and am quite interested in various strange formations. I have always admired the formations of the Holy Mountain. I wonder if you would be interested in collaborating with me?"

He didn't mention the conference, but directly pointed out the ancient formation of the sacred mountain, his attitude was frank.

The elder's eyes flickered, and thoughts raced through his mind.

The other party directly revealed the Holy Mountain's formation, indicating that they had overheard it outside beforehand. Their methods far surpass those of others of the same level, so it's not advisable to easily antagonize them.

Furthermore, this person's origins are unknown, his cultivation is considerable, and his mastery of formations is profound. The ancient formation of the sacred mountain has troubled the tribe for thousands of years. If it could be broken with the help of external forces... there are certainly risks, but the opportunities are even greater.

After a moment, he seemed to have made up his mind, and the smile on his face became more genuine.

"Fellow Daoist, you speak frankly. Cooperation cannot be based on empty words. The formation of our sacred mountain is no small matter; only those who are truly proficient in the Dao of Formations should dare to claim that they can break it."

As he spoke, he took out nine small flags of different colors, each imbued with a spiritual light, from his storage bag.

"If you can break through my temporary 'Nine Locks Linked Array', everything else is negotiable."