Wandering Swordsman |

Finally, after a violent tremor, the Martial God Hammer slowly lifted off the ground, as if a giant beast that had been sleeping for ten thousand years had been forcibly awakened.

The bookworm collapsed to the ground as if his bones had been removed, and the heavy, black Martial God Hammer in his hand slammed down, stirring up a circle of grayish-white dust, like incense ash rising from an altar.

"Huff..." He gasped for breath, his chest heaving violently, his face as pale as paper, cold sweat mixed with blood trickling down his forehead and dripping onto the cold stone slab.

He raised his trembling hand to wipe away a trace of blood from his lips, his eyes shining with the light of relief after surviving a disaster. His voice, though weak, carried an undisguised excitement: "It worked! It seems... there wasn't any fatal trap."

Shen Mo rushed forward and caught his swaying body. He touched the bookworm's clothes, which were soaked with cold sweat, and his body was ice-cold. "Brother Shu, are you alright?" he asked in a low voice, his eyes full of worry.

The bookworm forced a bitter smile, "It's alright... but my internal energy is almost completely depleted, and my meridians feel like they're being scorched by flames. However..." He turned his head with difficulty, looking at the Martial God Hammer lying quietly on the ground, his eyes suddenly turning fervent, "This hammer is indeed a treasure. If it falls into the hands of someone like the Thousand-Faced Demon, it will surely bring catastrophe to the martial world."

Shen Mo nodded and carefully picked up the Martial God Hammer and carried it on his back. The hammer was exceptionally heavy, making his shoulders feel heavy, as if he were carrying not only a divine weapon, but also a heavy destiny.

Then Shen Mo helped the bookworm along the passage ahead.

Before long, when they finally left the entrance of the passage, the view suddenly opened up before them, and a cool, damp atmosphere rushed towards them, carrying with it the serenity and mystery of the ancient rock strata.

They found themselves in a vast, suffocating underground space, with an immeasurably high dome that seemed to connect to the earth's core.

Above, countless stalactites hang like inverted swords, and the dripping sound of water echoes in the vast emptiness, like the pulse of time, never ceasing.

Not far away, five more stone gates stood prominently at their exits! Sword, knife, spear, club, whip—the five gates, like five giant pillars, stood side by side with the Hammerstone Gate they had just passed through, converging at a single point in this underground world!

The six portals, like six throats leading to different destinies, have now converged here, as if silently telling a shocking secret: the core of the Martial God's Tomb may not be separate, but unified!

Opposite to this place where the six gates converge, there is a wide and awe-inspiring underground river that emits a faint glow, illuminating the entire underground space.

By the light of the underground river, one can vaguely see a magnificent stone gate standing on the opposite bank.

The stone gate was over ten zhang high and several zhang wide, constructed entirely of a strange stone with a bluish-gray luster. A huge character "儒" (Confucian) was carved on its surface. The characters were vigorous and ancient, flowing like dragons and snakes, seemingly containing immense power, yet also exuding the righteous spirit of profound learning. It emanated an aura of solemnity, dignity, and uprightness.

The underground river that runs through the underground space is the natural barrier that divides this space.

The river emitted a cold, eerie glow, yet its depths were unfathomable; only its roar could be heard—a thunderous rumble, like the howling of an earth dragon.

The water flowed swiftly, creating swirling eddies, and the chilling air seemed to freeze the very air.

The river is wide, at least thirty zhang (approximately 15 meters) across. There is no bridge across it, only a few broken stone beams, half-submerged and half-floating, like the skeletons of ancient beasts, signifying the danger and mystery of this place.

Shen Mo and the bookworm stood on the riverbank, gazing at the magnificent stone gate with the character "儒" (Confucianism), their hearts filled with overwhelming awe.

This massive stone gate seems to be a gateway to another world. The character "儒" (Confucianism) carved on it exudes an ancient and solemn aura, inspiring awe in those who are involuntarily drawn to it.

Just as the two were intently observing, a voice suddenly came from the shadows: "Shen Mo, it's you!!"

The voice, filled with anger and hatred, echoed in the silent space, like a sharp sword piercing the heart.

Shen Mo and the bookworm quickly looked in the direction of the sound, and saw the White Tiger Saint Lord standing not far away with an angry expression, staring at Shen Mo with eyes like knives, as if he wanted to tear him to pieces.

Clearly, the White Tiger Saint Lord still harbored resentment over Shen Mo's rescue of Situ Meng from the secret prison years ago, and the shadow of that night lingered in his heart.

"Hmph, I didn't expect you to actually dare to show up here!" The White Tiger Saint King said through gritted teeth, his hands clenched into fists, his knuckles turning white, and his eyes flashing with the flames of revenge.

However, just as the White Tiger Saint King was about to take a step forward, Ding Chengfeng suddenly appeared from the side and blocked his way.

Ding Chengfeng's originally cold and stern face now carried a subtle smile, as if everything was under his control.

He walked slowly toward Shen Mo and the bookworm, a complex light shining in his eyes.

Ding Chengfeng understood deep down that with the death of Duan Qianya, the leader of the Diancang Sect, the Diancang Sect had completely withdrawn from the struggle for the secrets of the Martial God's Tomb. This originally fierce competition had now become a contest between the Black Wind Gang and the overseas evil cultivators.

Based on the strength demonstrated by the overseas heretical cultivators, Ding Chengfeng was clearly no match for them, so the original three-way balance of power had already tilted in favor of the overseas heretical cultivators.

If Shen Mo can be brought in, a three-way balance of power can be established again. This would only benefit the Black Wind Gang.

"Young Master Shen, how have you been?" Ding Chengfeng's voice was deep and gentle, like a spring breeze brushing across a frozen lake, trying to ease the tense atmosphere.

Shen Mo frowned slightly, calmly scrutinizing Ding Chengfeng: "Chief Ding, what is the meaning of this?"

Ding Chengfeng chuckled and shook his head: "Young Master Shen misunderstands. I did not come here to fight. It's just... since we are all gathered here by fate, why don't we travel together and explore the Tomb of the Martial God?"

The bookworm coldly remarked from the side, "The Black Wind Gang has a long history of committing numerous evil deeds in the martial world, and its reputation has always been poor. How can we trust them?"

Ding Chengfeng was not offended, but instead showed a helpless smile: "Young hero, you flatter me. Now that the Diancang Sect has withdrawn from the competition, why not cooperate and plot together to obtain the secret treasures within the Tomb of the Martial God?"

Just then, Xuanwu Saint Lord looked at the Bookworm's face, and after a long period of contemplation, as if remembering something, he couldn't help but interject, "Chief, this person is Guigu-Bookworm!"

Ding Chengfeng was startled, but quickly revealed a confident smile. He then turned to look at Xuanwu Saint Lord, a warning flashing in his eyes: "Xuanwu, regardless of your past grudges with the Bookworm Shen Mo, now is not the time to bring them up. What we need most now is cooperation."

Although Xuanwu Saint Lord was unwilling, he dared not act presumptuously in front of the gang leader. He could only retreat to the side indignation, but still stared at Shen Mo and the Bookworm with hostile eyes.