Chapter Sixty-Six: The Thoughts That Occupy a Human Child Each Day

“This, this…” Normally forthright, Ironspike stuttered uncontrollably. “Yunke, is this what humans are always like? Is this what occupies their minds every day? Yin Yin, isn’t she just a human cub?”

Cloudtech Yin Yin wasn’t sure herself, but tried to explain, “No, it’s not like that. For us beastfolk, we only have a few months of mating season each year, but I’ve heard that for humans, every single day could be like that.”

Ironspike said, “I really didn’t know much about this side of humans before…” His tone grew increasingly incredulous. “Even so, how do so many strong ones exist among them? If they spend every day thinking about this… how do they reach such heights in cultivation? Could this business possibly help improve their level or martial arts skills?”

Hearing this, Zhang Ning couldn’t help but groan, “Heavens, just kill me already!”

Zhang Ning felt like he was surrounded by lunatics, that not a single person around him was thinking straight; their priorities were all askew!

Yet, the moment Zhang Ning mentioned killing, Han Zun’s smile grew wider, like a beast about to sink its fangs into its prey’s throat—far more chilling than the two experts battling in the sky.

Han Zun stepped forward, blocking Zhang Ning and Meng Meng. “Seems I have to take care of two little bugs before we can chat… Weren’t these two just now about to lay hands on you?!”

Zhang Ning swallowed hard. “Brother, go easy on them.”

Meng Meng continued to stare at Zhang Ning in silence.

The two beast-king martial emperors in the sky only laughed.

They, too, recognized the newcomer, Han Zun—the peerless prodigy ranked first on the Human List in the Azure Realm, a talent with the potential to surpass even them and ascend to the pinnacle of martial arts. If Han Zun grew to maturity, they would one day have to look up to him. But a genius not yet grown was only a genius in name; potential meant nothing. A dead genius is no genius at all—just a corpse!

So, in a situation like this, what did it matter to be ranked first on the Human List? That list only ranked martial artists below thirty-five, those at the Martial Ancestor level or below. In other words, Han Zun was at most a Martial Ancestor!

Thus, the two maintained a relaxed demeanor. Cloudtech even said seriously, “I’ve heard of you, Han Zun. Among your generation, even the scions of those sacred lands can’t compare to you. One day, your cultivation may exceed ours, but we are not those newly advanced, feeble martial emperors with little experience. If you think you can leap ranks to fight us, you’re deluding yourself!”

Ironspike chuckled, “Looks like the two of us are about to claim the life of another human prodigy.”

Despite their words, neither truly underestimated Han Zun. Their eyes tracked him closely. Yet, under everyone’s gaze, Han Zun took a single step forward—at once fast and slow—and in an instant vanished from sight!

In the space of a breath, Han Zun appeared behind the two and launched a simultaneous assault!

Zhang Ning already had faith in Han Zun, but hadn’t expected such ferocity. Meng Meng had said those two were famed peak martial emperors, beastfolk on the very threshold of becoming martial overlords! Han Zun was fighting across not one, but two major realms!

Zhang Ning and Meng Meng watched the battle above, jaws dropped, necks craning back and forth as if doing neck exercises—an almost comical sight.

But it wasn’t their fault for being shocked. Han Zun’s movement was astonishingly agile, appearing all over the sky, attacking from every direction; his one-against-two assault made it look as if a whole gang was besieging the two martial emperors. Han Zun’s foundation was deep, his techniques profound, his presence no less imposing than the two beastfolk martial emperors. Though he didn’t confront them head-on, he was slowly but steadily gaining the upper hand.

At this, Meng Meng drawled, “No wonder she’s your little wife… Then your main wife must be even more impressive. Who is it?!”

As Zhang Ning watched, his whole body gradually relaxed. He knew now he was finally safe, that he could leave the Five Abyss Grasslands alive. A wave of fatigue washed over him—he was already running on empty, on the verge of passing out. Only his determination to see Han Zun win kept him barely awake. He replied vaguely to Meng Meng, “Who?”

Meng Meng looked at Zhang Ning with utter contempt. “The one you hold dearest! Who means the most to you? In this world!”

Zhang Ning mumbled sleepily, “In this world…” His voice trailed off; he was already asleep, unaware of what he was saying, unable even to recall recent events. Only the dire situation of his master lingered in his mind.

Zhang Ning finally realized—his master’s circumstances were surely not as simple as they appeared. Once he got out, he would have to probe the situation. His master had always been so good to him… And then there was the corpse in his storage ring, and…

In a daze, Zhang Ning replied, “Of course, my master is the most important.”

At these words, Meng Meng stared at Zhang Ning in alarm.

Just before losing consciousness, Zhang Ning was comforted to see Han Zun pressing the attack, completely dominating the field. Han Zun even sent Ironspike, that beastfolk martial emperor, flying, only to grab him by the leg and drag him back for another round of beating…

Who knows how much time passed before Zhang Ning awoke, feeling a deep comfort throughout his body. For a long moment, he forgot all that had happened, thinking it just another ordinary day in a different world.

Then, bit by bit, he remembered everything that had happened in the Ten-Thousand Mountains: the beast tide, his master, the youth who’d descended from the sky, Meng Meng, the intoxicating fruit, and so on.

Suddenly, Zhang Ning jolted awake. No! He had to get up immediately! Last time he’d lounged around staring at the ceiling like this, as soon as he stepped out he’d been tricked by Third Senior Brother. He couldn’t let history repeat itself!

With that thought, Zhang Ning braced himself on the bed to get up, but a glance to the side made him freeze.

Someone was sitting right beside his bed—a boy of fourteen or fifteen, with bronzed skin, who even seated quietly at Zhang Ning’s bedside radiated a fierce, murderous aura.

“Fourth Senior Brother!!”

No sooner had he shouted than Zhang Ning rolled across the bed and threw his arms around Fourth Senior Brother Han Zhifei’s waist.