Mythical Version of Three Kingdom

Zuo Ci sat cross-legged in the Jingling Hall, silently burning incense and offering prayers. Yu Ji and Zi Xu had only sent their disciples, which clearly hinted at some unspeakable stories behind the scenes.

As Zuo Ci was deep in prayer, an inexplicable wave swept over him. A divine glow, like precious jade, appeared around him, but it couldn’t stop the wave from passing through.

”Sigh,” Zuo Ci sighed, opening his eyes and reaching out from his wide sleeves to start calculating with his fingers. ”Indeed, chaotic times produce heroes. Another mental talent of this level has emerged, strong enough to affect even us. But after all, we are still human, not immortals.”

”Master!” A young Taoist in green robes bowed to Zuo Ci. ”Why do you stay in such a place? With your abilities, who in the world can compare? Why bother accepting Liu Yan’s invitation to come to Taishan?”

”We are human, not immortals. Zhang Jiao thought himself immortal, but wasn’t he ultimately slain? We should stick to what we’re supposed to do,” Zuo Ci calmly replied with his eyes closed. ”Our magic may seem powerful, but who can we really act against? Heroes in this world fight for themselves, for others, or for the people. Each is entangled in great karma, and we can only observe, not interfere. Just do what needs to be done.”

Zuo Ci’s disciple seemed dissatisfied, hesitating before eventually retreating.

”Sigh, we seem the most free in this world, yet we are the least free. Our magic seems unrivaled, but who can we actually strike down?” Zuo Ci murmured as he gazed at the massive blank stone monument. They could foresee many things, but what difference did it make? Could they really stop the events from unfolding? Could they dare to try?

Having voiced his thoughts, Zuo Ci closed his eyes again. He understood Yu Ji and Zi Xu’s intentions but didn’t pay them much mind. Back when the divine stones had not yet fallen to the mortal world, when these Taoists were far more powerful than ordinary people, none of them had succeeded in interfering with the world. And now, Zuo Ci knew that if he were to face a general like Lu Bu head-on, the outcome would be dire. The times had indeed changed!

Although the heavens had loosened their restrictions on them, people capable of killing them had also appeared. Before the divine stones fell to the mortal realm, a Taoist who had achieved great cultivation transformed into a giant serpent to mock the Qin general Bai Qi, only to be slain. What hope did they have now?

Zuo Ci reminisced about Zhang Jiao, who had wielded the Taiping Qingling Shu. Even a master like Zuo Ci had struggled against Zhang Jiao’s power. Thousands of Yellow Turban warriors were summoned, and such a force should have easily overturned the world. Yet, they were all slaughtered, and Zhang Jiao was beheaded. It didn’t matter how great your magic was—under the clouded sky of an army of three hundred thousand, no magic could save you.As chaos spread and the world entered its tumultuous period, Zuo Ci had seen many talents emerge, some of which even affected him. Whether it was the start of a new era or the beginning of a star-studded age, people like him were destined to be overshadowed, their power fading into obscurity.

Zuo Ci didn’t share these thoughts with his fellow Taoists because he knew they wouldn’t listen. Many believed Zhang Jiao had acted too hastily, thinking that if he had been more patient, the world would have been theirs.

Because of this, Zuo Ci gradually distanced himself from that group, choosing to wander the land, seeking out a hidden dragon to guide like a traditional Taoist rather than plot to overthrow the government.

After withdrawing from the ranks of the so-called immortals and returning to Lujiang, Zuo Ci realized the world had indeed changed. It was no longer a place where a few spells could control everything. They no longer held absolute power.

In Yuzhou, he had merely glimpsed Lu Bu from afar, yet the general had sensed his presence. In Lujiang, the moment Zhou Yu activated his talent, Zuo Ci knew he could no longer stay there. The mortals he had once looked down upon had grown so powerful that it shook him. Zuo Ci had a feeling that if he were to face Zhou Yu and Lu Bu head-on, Zhou Yu’s fully unleashed talent would limit his abilities, and he’d be left with no defense against Lu Bu’s blade.

And that would truly be the end—no illusions, no magic, just death. Lu Bu was fully capable of reaching that level. His divine weapon, already imbued with a spirit, would claim Zuo Ci’s life if it struck him.

When the mental wave had just passed over him, Zuo Ci realized that his greatest reliance, his magical foresight, had been sealed. Indeed, this era no longer suited people like him. Mortals might still be frail, but working together, they could easily slay beings like him. In the past, countless so-called immortals were cut down by mortals even before they gained their extraordinary powers.

With that thought, Zuo Ci resumed chanting sutras in front of the massive stone monument.

Meanwhile, in a carriage near Taishan in eastern Yanzhou, Xi Zhicai and Chen Qun were idly chatting. Although both served under Cao Cao, they didn’t interact much.

When Sima Yi’s wave of mental energy swept across them, Chen Qun suddenly stood up in alarm, while Xi Zhicai’s eyes flashed with excitement.

Xi Zhicai immediately copied the wave of mental energy as it passed over him.

Xi Zhicai was overjoyed to find that his talent remained intact. He could still use his ability, though the copied talent from Xun Yu had been sealed.

”Zhicai! Is your mental talent still working?” Chen Qun asked anxiously.

”Relax, it’s just someone’s active mental talent that seals other talents within its range when activated. No need to worry,” Xi Zhicai replied with a mysterious smile.

”How do you know that, Zhicai?” Chen Qun asked, puzzled.

”I have my ways. Don’t worry about it,” Xi Zhicai said, still smiling mysteriously. He could already imagine a vast array of powerful mental talents appearing before him, ready for selection.

Chen Qun gave Xi Zhicai a deep look but said nothing more. He had never fully understood Xi Zhicai’s talent, though he often felt it was somewhat similar to his own—yet sometimes, it seemed to involve other things. Now, hearing Xi Zhicai explain an unknown talent so clearly only deepened Chen Qun’s suspicions.