With the Blade

The first thing Du Chengfeng picked up to polish was that sling.

The sling was nothing special—two leather straps tied to both ends of a piece of leather. Wu Zhao made it casually and then stood in front of a group of barbarians—and in front of these people was a giant with a height of several zhang, nearly matching the massive bird-like He Xiqing, wielding an equally enormous wooden club with an air of invincibility.

Amidst the terrified discussions of those barbarians, Du Chengfeng learned that this giant was named Goliath, a terrifying creature of legend, sent by a ruthless king to wipe them out on their way to the Promised Land.

And then, there was nothing further. Wu Zhao simply swung the sling, and the stone it released struck the giant’s eye, accurately blasting the giant’s head.

"Hero! Hero! Hero!"

Seeing Wu Zhao’s gallant figure, the previously desperate barbarians were all cheering and jumping with joy.

"A true hero!"

"It’s just a trivial matter, not worth mentioning."

Faced with everyone’s praise, Wu Zhao simply shook his head. This demeanor of an expert only made people praise him even more.

This made Du Chengfeng feel somewhat nauseous.

"A bit disgusting."

Putting the sling aside, Du Chengfeng took two deep breaths; at that moment, he felt as if he’d eaten something foul—it was at this moment that he finally realized something, especially seeing Wu Zhao steal the spotlight.

The scenes of the barbarians were outrageous; they actually thanked Wu Zhao for his benevolence. But didn’t they think, why were they, just passing by, pursued so relentlessly by the local king, even to the point of being killed?

Previously, Du Chengfeng didn’t understand why Wu Zhao, wanting to seek battles in different worlds, insisted on bringing some slaves along when his fighting prowess clearly didn’t require any auxiliary forces—but now he understood, those slaves were Wu Zhao’s bait.

The slaves were sheep, Wu Zhao was the dog, and there would always be wolves trying to steal the sheep, giving the dog a chance to fight.

At this moment, disgusted, Du Chengfeng used the most poisonous words.

After all, he had also seen Wu Zhao’s big face on another weapon.

When they parted ways before, Du Chengfeng didn’t have Wu Zhao take the staff, as he still needed it as a key with the ability to divide, for returning home—but for Wu Zhao, it apparently didn’t matter; this Yin master, skilled in various rituals, was already familiar with this dividing power. In past battles, he could even use the Yue Saber to deliver similar slashes.

So after handing the staff to Du Chengfeng, Wu Zhao, who ventured into another realm of fantasy, opted to make a batch himself.

Not one staff, but a batch; having abandoned any combat-related requirements, Wu Zhao was less fastidious with material selection—of course, when he spoke to those barbarian slaves, Wu Zhao still used ceremonial phrases, like planting the first staff as a tree, and then taking thirteen branches from it...

The barbarians believed this firmly.

These barbarians thought this staff was a treasure given by a Saint, a key guiding them to the Promised Land. As long as they held such a staff, they believed someday they would find that Promised Land—harboring such dreams, these barbarians embarked on their journey.

The yearning for the Promised Land passed down from generation to generation, with faith becoming hazy, and scriptures having undergone countless revisions, but regardless of how much time passed, they always aimed to reach that Promised Land, the land flowing with milk and honey.

But these barbarians didn’t know that they were traversing not just long roads.

There were also boundaries between dimensions.

"So this was the purpose..."

At that moment, Du Chengfeng suddenly understood something.

These makeshift staffs that fell into the hands of the barbarians, rather than being guides for the road ahead, were more likely meant to turn these barbarians into couriers. Their steadfastness in faith, their pursuit of the Promised Land... no matter how many generations, no matter how many years, among those holding the staffs, some group would eventually find some Promised Land, or rather, a genuine Promised Land.

However, that so-called Promised Land might not be the Promised Land these barbarians hoped for.

Instead, it was the Peach Blossom Spring.

This was their true mission—what they had to do was, amidst ceaseless traversal and endless possibilities, at the right time and place, bring these two weapons to a designated location—and subsequently, these two weapons would fall into Du Chengfeng’s hands, and then Wu Zhaos would also see these two weapons.

Perhaps this was what Wu Zhao truly wanted to do, or say, what the future Wu Zhao wanted to do—that Wu Zhao from who knows how long ago, using this method, crafted another choice for his past self, leaving a path full of battles and challenges for his past self.

Incidentally, he left a message for Du Chengfeng, suggesting he’s doing well?

"Still kind of disgusting."

Thinking about the scenes he saw on the sling earlier, Du Chengfeng still felt a bit nauseous.

Yet, he was somewhat comforted.

A former rival, though no longer able to be an adversary, had ultimately found a fitting end for himself, which was indeed a good thing—although if they met again, Du Chengfeng would still choose to slash Wu Zhao dead, whether killing him, or feeling glad for him, would be a sign of respect for an opponent.

A good adversary indeed makes for the best teacher; he certainly learned a lot from Wu Zhao.

So after using the staff to return to the true Peach Blossom Spring, he broke the staff on the spot.

After witnessing all that, he understood another layer of Wu Zhao’s meaning: this staff was both a pass for the couriers and a key for Wu Zhaos’ departures, as well as Du Chengfeng’s path home, but it was also an invitation. With this staff in hand, there was yet a chance to go to another world, yet a chance to continue the battle with a complete Wu Zhao.

Du Chengfeng was reluctant to continue fighting Wu Zhao any further; he had sampled enough of such battles, moreover, he only desired a life of peace, utterly uninterested in embarking on a relentless pursuit across the horizon.

That would be strange, really...

"Hmm?"

Du Chengfeng’s brow furrowed suddenly.

Because, inside the two pieces of broken wood, he unexpectedly saw an old scrap of paper.