The gathering grounds were silent.
Thousands of disciples stood across the massive stone expanse, arranged behind their factions like armies awaiting orders. Above them, floating platforms drifted slowly in the air, each carrying elders whose robes moved gently in the wind. Some radiated heat like furnaces, others felt cold like deep water, and some had such still auras that they seemed like statues carved from ancient stone.
At the very center, on the highest crimson platform, stood Madam Yan.
From where Lu Mao stood, she looked less like a guild master and more like a ruler addressing a kingdom. Her crimson robes flowed behind her, and the air around her shimmered faintly with Qi pressure. When she spoke, her voice carried across the entire grounds without effort.
"There is much happening in this world that many of you are unaware of," she said slowly, her eyes sweeping across the thousands of disciples below. "So today, I instruct you all to listen carefully."
No one spoke. No one moved.
Even the wind seemed quieter.
"There has been a massive invasion of higher-ranked Nightmares," she continued. "Nearly thousands of Nightmares attacked at the same time across different parts of the world. Not in open war… but as part of a planned invasion."
A murmur spread across the disciples, but it quickly died when her aura flared slightly.
"As per intelligence from across the continents," she continued, "many cultivators fought and many strong warriors fell. These were not ordinary Nightmares. They commanded not only low-level Nightmares but also elite and beast-ranked Nightmares."
Lu Mao felt his chest tighten slightly as he listened.
This was not a distant story anymore. This sounded like war.
"Over ninety percent of the invading Nightmares were defeated," Madam Yan said, and some tension eased among the disciples. But then she continued, her voice turning colder. "However, more than a hundred General-ranked Nightmares, along with several elite and beast-ranked Nightmares, managed to infiltrate beyond the borders."
The silence returned instantly.
"This is the first time Nightmares have fought in such a coordinated manner," she continued. "This tells us only one thing."
She paused.
"They are evolving. They are learning. And they are planning."
The words felt heavy in the air.
"Many warriors fell in these battles," she continued. "Nightmares feed on Qi and dantians. Many cultivators were destroyed, including those guarding the Colossal Crevice of the world. Our guild alone lost two hundred and thirty cultivators… including three elders."
This time, even the elders on the floating platforms looked grim.
Lu Mao glanced toward the Black Dragon group. He saw Bao Fu's usual grin gone, Marco standing with folded arms and serious eyes, Chen Yuan frowning slightly, and Yan Mei standing calm but attentive.
Li Xian stood at the front with the faction leaders, her posture straight and unmoving.
Madam Yan continued, her voice now sharp as steel.
"The next attack may not come from the Crevice. It may not come from outside the borders."
She looked across the entire gathering.
"It may come from inside."
The words sent a chill through Lu Mao's spine.
"So it is crucial that we find and locate these Nightmare Generals as fast as possible," she continued. "And be ready for the worst. Our enemies are not just monsters. They are moving doorways for our enemies to spawn."
She turned slightly and gestured toward one side of the floating platforms where several hooded elders sat. Their robes were dark but embroidered with golden patterns that looked ancient and regal. Even from below, Lu Mao could feel that their presence was different from other elders.
"These are our Elite Generals," Madam Yan said. "We will be forming Quick Response Teams of warriors and rangers for different kinds of missions based on their guidance."
So the guild was preparing for war.
Madam Yan continued, "As usual, there will be missions available in the Mission Halls for you to choose from. But from today onwards, there will also be compulsory missions based on your abilities."
A wave of whispers spread across the disciples again.
"I would advise all members and disciples of our guild," she continued, "to train harder and grow stronger. Because the days ahead will not be peaceful."
She paused for a moment.
Then her expression changed slightly, and her voice became calmer.
"But despair and battle are not the only things this incident has brought to us."
That sentence immediately drew everyone's attention again.
Lu Mao noticed even the elders leaned slightly forward.
"What this predicament also offers us… is strength."
That single word changed the atmosphere instantly.
Strength.
For cultivators, nothing mattered more.
Not gold.
Not luxury.
Not comfort.
Not pleasure.
Only strength.
Madam Yan continued after a brief silence. "What Nightmares carry within them are Nightmare Cores. A resource rarer and more powerful than most mystic pills. Only those who defeat Nightmares can obtain them. The stronger the Nightmare, the stronger the core."
She slowly walked across the crimson platform as she spoke.
"These cores can help cultivation, forging of magic treasures, strengthening weapons, and even formation crafting. Whoever gathers more cores… grows faster."
Lu Mao immediately understood.
This was not just a crisis.
This was an opportunity.
"But we will not be the only ones seeking these cores," Madam Yan continued. "Sects, tribes, warrior clans, guilds — all across the world will compete for them. Everyone will try to outpace each other."
Her eyes sharpened.
"This may also be the time for some of you… to rise to greatness."
She paused deliberately.
"Even the Immortal Emperor has announced that all cultivators should gather Nightmare cores and defeat as many Nightmares as possible. He has declared that this era will belong to the new generation of cultivators."
The moment she said that, the entire gathering grounds erupted into cheers.
Even Lu Mao felt his heart beat faster.
The Immortal Emperor himself had spoken.
This era belonged to the new generation.
The pressure that had filled the grounds earlier was now mixed with excitement and ambition. Disciples looked at each other with determination instead of fear.
Even the elders nodded approvingly.
Madam Yan had done exactly what a leader should do—she showed them the danger, and then she showed them the opportunity.
Lu Mao, however, was not cheering.
He was thinking.
He was still too weak.
The world was entering chaos. Nightmare Generals were hiding across the world. Cultivators were dying. Guilds were preparing for war. Everyone would soon be competing for Nightmare cores and strength.
And he still hadn't even started proper cultivation.
He wasn't just behind.
He was far behind.
And he didn't intend to stay that way.
⸻
That Night
After the announcement, disciples slowly returned to their quarters. The excitement of the announcement still lingered in the air. Groups discussed missions, Nightmare cores, Quick Response Teams, and the Immortal Emperor's declaration.
But Lu Mao went straight back to his room.
He closed the door quietly and sat down on the floor.
The room was silent except for his breathing.
He closed his eyes and began circulating the Eight Gates Circulation Method — the technique he had chosen during the selection ceremony, or rather, the technique that had been chosen for him.
Lu Mao still remembered that moment clearly.
He had walked toward the slab fully intending to choose a different cultivation method, something more suitable for a thief — something focused on stealth, control, and steady growth. But the moment his hand hovered above the slab, his meridians had erupted into chaos. Qi twisted violently inside his body, and a strange pressure built inside his skull until he could barely think.
Then came the vibration.
A strange resonance, echoing from somewhere deep within his body — no, deeper than that — from somewhere inside his very soul.
At first there were no clear words, only a single idea repeating again and again.
Eight Gates.
Eight Gates.
Eight Gates.
Before he could stop himself, his hand had moved on its own and slammed onto the slab, choosing the Eight Gate Circulation Method in front of the entire hall. The moment the technique entered his meridians, the pain vanished and the voice disappeared as if it had never existed.
At the time, he had thought it was just an accident.
But later, when he finally managed to enter his inner world again, he understood the truth.
He had seen the colossal golden vein like a divine tree.
He had seen the ninety-nine iron vaults orbiting it like ancient seals.
And he had heard that ancient voice — the one who called himself the Last Emperor of the God Lands.
The emperor had told him something important.
He had said that Lu Mao was still too weak to remain there for long.
He had said the path had already been opened for him.
And he had told him to cultivate the method that had been bestowed upon him.
At that time, Lu Mao had wanted to ask many questions.
Who was he?
What were the Seven Realms?
Why were there ninety-nine iron vaults inside his inner world?
What was the golden vein?
But before he could ask anything more, the inner world had begun to collapse.
The light faded.
Darkness swallowed the sky.
And the emperor's voice had echoed one last time before everything disappeared.
"Grow stronger… and return."
Then Lu Mao had been thrown out of his inner world, his consciousness snapping back into his body with almost no Qi left in his dantian.
Since that day, he had understood one thing clearly.
The Eight Gates Circulation Method had not been a mistake.
It had been a path chosen by the ancient existence inside his inner world — the one who called himself the Last Emperor.
And if he wanted answers…
If he wanted to return to that golden world…
If he wanted to know why those ninety-nine iron vaults existed inside him…
Then there was only one thing he could do.
He had to cultivate the Eight Gates.
Whether it was the right path or the wrong path no longer mattered.
Because now—
It was his path.
But that didn't matter right now.
What mattered was that he still hadn't successfully circulated Qi using the Eight Gates method even after seven days of trying.
He could now gather Qi strands inside his consciousness much more easily than before. Earlier, he struggled just to collect Qi, but now he could gather it quickly and hold it together.
The real challenge was circulating it through eight different meridians in a specific pattern.
Every time the Qi passed through a meridian, it became heavier and harder to control. Keeping the Qi together while forcing it through the next meridian required immense concentration and willpower.
Tonight, he tried again.
He gathered the strands of Qi within his consciousness and slowly pushed them into the first meridian.
Then second.
Then third.
Then fourth.
He clenched his teeth slightly. Sweat had already started forming on his forehead.
The fifth meridian was always where he failed.
He pushed the Qi forward slowly, trying to keep it from dispersing.
The moment the Qi touched the fifth meridian—
Pain exploded across his body.
Not normal pain.
It felt like millions of tiny needles piercing his skin from the inside out. His muscles tightened, and his breathing became heavy, but he did not stop.
He kept pushing the Qi forward.
Blood began seeping from his pores — dark red droplets forming across his arms, chest, and back. His vest stuck to his skin as sweat and blood mixed together.
The pain grew worse.
But he did not stop.
He had failed too many times already.
This time, he would not stop.
He pushed harder.
The Qi finally passed the fifth meridian.
Suddenly, the pain disappeared.
His body felt light — unbelievably light — as if his skin and organs were separate and floating. His senses sharpened strangely. He could feel Qi moving inside his body like streams of water.
But he didn't stop.
He pushed the Qi toward the sixth meridian.
The pain returned, but this time it felt different — like the needles piercing his body were being pulled inward instead of outward. His muscles trembled, and tears formed in his eyes from the pain, but he continued pushing.
He only had one thought in his mind.
No matter what happens today… I will pass all eight gates.
Even if I die.
He pushed forward again.
He nearly lost consciousness, just like many times before.
But this time he refused to faint.
His veins bulged. His eyes turned white. Tears rolled down his face, but his will did not break.
Then suddenly—
Everything became clearer.
He could sense Qi everywhere inside his body — not just in streams but in every corner, every muscle, every bone, every organ.
It became easier to move Qi.
Much easier.
A small smile appeared on his face.
He had passed the hardest phase.
But he was not done yet.
Two gates remained.
He pushed the Qi toward the seventh meridian.
The moment the Qi touched it, his entire body felt like it was being torn apart from the outside. At the same time, the air around him began to move. The surrounding Qi in the room slowly began flowing toward his body.
He didn't know what was happening.
But the Eight Gates technique was doing what it was famous for — absorbing Qi from the surroundings through the pores.
Even in extreme pain, he continued pushing.
And then he passed the seventh gate.
Only one remained.
He gathered all the Qi he had — inside his body and the Qi being absorbed from the surroundings — and pushed toward the eighth meridian.
This time it felt like his body would explode.
His veins bulged. His muscles trembled violently. Blood covered his skin. His hair was wet and stuck to his face.
But he didn't stop.
He remembered Yan Mei defeating him.
He remembered other disciples stronger than him.
He remembered the Immortal Emperor.
He remembered the world announcement.
He remembered that he refused to fall behind.
With a final scream inside his mind, he pushed everything forward.
And then—
He broke through the eighth gate.
Qi circulated through all eight meridians.
Once.
Twice.
His aura flared around him uncontrollably.
Then everything went dark.
As his consciousness faded, the world around Lu Mao seemed to tilt and blur.
Moments earlier, pain had torn through his body like wildfire racing through dry grass. When the qi inside his meridians surged violently and slammed against the next gate, the pressure had been unbearable. It felt as though his veins were being split open from the inside.
He had tried to endure it silently.
He had really tried.
But when the pressure finally broke through—
A scream had torn from his throat, echoing through the quiet halls of the Black Dragon residence.
After that, everything had begun to fall apart.
His vision blurred.
His hearing dulled.
His body swayed where he sat.
Now, as darkness crept into the edges of his sight, he vaguely heard hurried footsteps in the corridor outside his room.
The sound grew louder.
Voices followed.
Distant at first.
Then closer.
The door suddenly burst open.
Lu Mao's fading vision barely managed to make out the figures rushing inside. Li Xian was in front, moving faster than he had ever seen her move before, her usually calm expression broken by clear alarm. Behind her came Yan Mei, her brows tightly furrowed, and Bao Fu, who looked completely confused and worried at the same time.
They were saying something.
Shouting, probably.
But Lu Mao could not hear the words clearly anymore. Their voices sounded distant, as if he were sinking underwater while they stood on the surface.
His body finally lost all strength.
He fell sideways, the world spinning slowly into darkness.
And then—
He heard another voice.
Not from the room.
Not from outside.
But from somewhere deep within him.
Ancient.
Heavy.
Familiar.
The same voice he had heard in the golden world of his inner realm.
The voice of the Last Emperor.
It spoke slowly, with a faint hint of satisfaction.
"Well done, inheritor… well done."
Lu Mao tried to speak.
Tried to ask what he had done.
Tried to ask what the Eight Gates really were.
But before he could form even a single word, darkness swallowed his consciousness completely.
And Lu Mao fell unconscious.