The Programmer Cultivator

In a daze, Zhang Deming passed through the Light Gate. When his vision returned, he found himself in an entirely different place.

Unlike the temporary Light Gate on the square back in Hepan Town, this one must have been established long ago. It was impossible to tell how long it had been in use.

Before him was an unremarkable cliff. The entire Light Gate was embedded in a recess in the cliff face, concealed by a rather impressive array.

With the Light Gate hidden on an ordinary cliff by such an array, coupled with the extremely scarce Spiritual Power in the surroundings, it would be nearly impossible for anyone to discover it for a thousand years—barring some freak occurrence.

A Cultivator was unlikely to stumble upon it. As for mortals, besides the fact that this was a desolate wilderness, the cliff itself had no discernible access points from above or below, making it nearly impossible to reach. It was a perfect location.

Zhang Deming scanned his surroundings vigilantly but found nothing out of the ordinary. There wasn’t even a single guard on duty.

’Then again, that makes sense,’ he thought. ’Posting a guard at such a perfectly concealed entrance would only make it less perfect. It would be a dead giveaway.’

Once he was sure no one was around, Zhang Deming flipped his hand over, producing a book-shaped magical artifact. He tapped it, opening the map within.

Because Zhang Deming had loaded it with maps from the Spirit Nurturing Peak’s Information Room, it was incredibly comprehensive within the territory of the Celestial Spirit Sect—no less detailed than a satellite map.

As Zhang Deming activated the map, a dot representing his location appeared on it.

’This is... Xiaozhou?’

’Shouldn’t the exchange team from the Outer Realm be passing through Hua Shui Palace and Huayue City, approaching from Tongzhou to the north of the Sect?’

’How did they end up here in Xiaozhou, to the west? Aren’t they a little too far off course?’

’They couldn’t have gotten lost, could they!’

He glanced at the map, confirming his position. His brow furrowed as his thoughts raced. After a moment of failing to make sense of the situation, he put the map away with a flick of his hand, walked to the edge of the cliff, and gazed out.

The cliff wasn’t high—well, not for a Cultivator. It was only a few dozen meters, and it wasn’t a sheer drop; there were plenty of protruding rocks along the way.

A Martial Artist at the Innate realm or higher, a Junior Apprentice who knew the Agility Technique, or even an Intermediate Apprentice who knew no techniques at all could scale it in just a few leaps.

Beyond the cliff stretched a range of towering, rugged mountains. The exit clearly opened into the wilderness—and a barren one at that, especially for a Cultivator.

Directly opposite his position on the cliff was a massive mountain range. His current point of view almost perfectly overlapped with that of the monitoring array, as the array itself was hidden right beside him.

Therefore, he had a clear view of a massive vessel at the foot of the opposing mountain range.

The vessel was entirely silver-white, shaped like a modern aircraft carrier but significantly larger. Its overall design had a distinct science-fiction aesthetic; anyone could tell at a glance that it wasn’t from Hongmeng.

The vessel had crash-landed—or rather, it had collapsed at the foot of the mountain. Its massive tail was on the ground, its tapered nose tilting toward the sky at a forty or fifty-degree angle. The deck was also slanted and partially overturned.

The hull was tilted at a severe angle, its deck facing Zhang Deming. He could see various degrees of damage across its surface; black smoke billowed from some sections, while others still sparked intermittently with electricity.

From the looks of it, one could tell at a glance it had been through a major battle and had been badly ravaged.

A large swath of the surrounding forest had been incinerated by the vessel’s crash landing, causing a faint, acrid smoke to rise from the entire base of the mountain.

Since the distance between the two mountains wasn’t too great, Zhang Deming gave the scene a brief, initial assessment before Light Wings emerged from his back, and he flew toward the vessel.

······

A moment later, Zhang Deming arrived at the vessel’s wreckage. ’Hmm, perhaps calling it wreckage is an overstatement. With a few repairs, it should be able to fly again. It’s more of a damaged ship,’ he thought.

Zhang Deming landed lightly on the slanted deck, his brow twitching. Spiritual Light flickered in his eyes as his gaze rapidly swept over the area. After a long moment, Zhang Deming still hadn’t found any sign of Dang Ketao, who should have arrived before him.

This discovery caused Zhang Deming’s frown to deepen.

The Spiritual Light in his eyes intensified, and the vessel’s hull became translucent as if under an X-ray, revealing its entire internal framework. Zhang Deming scanned it from end to end, his expression growing considerably more grave.

A great many people had died inside the vessel. In that moment, the difference between a technological civilization and a Cultivation Civilization became starkly apparent.

When their Cyan Feather Green Ship crashed, although it had buffers for the emergency landing, they hadn’t done much. The hull had nearly shattered into several pieces, a testament to how rough the landing was!

Yet despite that, not a single disciple died because of the landing, and very few were even injured.

This vessel, on the other hand, had also crashed, but its hull hadn’t even broken apart—it was still largely intact. Yet, through his Spiritual Eye, Zhang Deming could see that many of the pilots inside were dead.

Some had died from bleeding from the nose and mouth; some had been impaled through the abdomen or chest by metal; and others had perished from broken limbs, internal bleeding, or compound fractures.

Many, many people had died throughout the vessel—of course, that was partly because it carried a large number of people to begin with.

Both were massive flying vessels, and both had crashed. Yet on their ship, not a single person had gotten into trouble, while here, a pile of people had died. The advantages of a Cultivation Civilization were on full display.

······

The entire vessel, as seen through Zhang Deming’s Spiritual Eye, was a gruesome sight.

’Hmm... Some of them aren’t dead yet,’ he observed. ’They’re suffering from grievous injuries, clinging to their last breath, enduring the world’s final cruelty toward them.’