Ning Qingya’s personality was the opposite of her sister Ning Qingrou’s. She didn’t dwell deeply on how Wang Shikong had acquired so much gear, especially the abundance of Bronze equipment. She simply shared in his joy, offering praise, “Shikong, you’re amazing!”
The father-in-law shared his younger daughter’s impatient nature, visibly itching to ask questions. Yet, pride sealed his lips. He couldn't bring himself to interrogate his crippled son-in-law, whom he’d always viewed with disdain. To ask would be to admit this paralyzed man surpassed him in accomplishment. Unbeknownst even to himself, his eyes kept flickering towards his son-in-law with reluctant, unacknowledged astonishment.
Having successfully shown off and put his sister-in-law and father-in-law in their place, Wang Shikong returned to his room in high spirits. Immediately, he entered the Eternal Continent.
Reappearing before the Rotting Manor dungeon entrance, he found the area teeming with players even at night. It was a popular grinding spot, but entry was limited to three times daily, requiring a team.
Tomorrow, I can join Tiger Vanguard, Yao Yi, and the others for three Nightmare-level runs of the dungeon.
For now, he planned to venture deeper. From memory, ahead lay a mass grave within the Blighted Lands. By day, it was desolate. By night, it came alive with Skeletons, Ghost Ravens, Zombies – creatures level 6 and above. Without Darkvision abilities, no sane person dared grind here at night.
Grind a bit before sleep. Combined with tomorrow’s dungeon runs, I should reach Level 4. Then I’ll find the Inscriptionist for that quest.
Wang Shikong moved forward, lost in thought. In his past life, he hadn't become an Elemental Inscriptionist. But with his current, unprecedented Elemental Affinity and Control, it would be a waste not to pursue it. Furthermore, he’d discovered something critical about the Deus Lexicon. The dual patterns on each skill page? They were the original inscriptions. Meaning, he could potentially craft spell scrolls for the Deus Lexicon’s skills using those diagrams. Elemental inscription diagrams were notoriously rare. That alone made becoming an Inscriptionist imperative. The power boost it would provide once achieved was unimaginable.
Crackle! Snap! Crackle!
Twenty minutes later, Wang Shikong arrived. Will-o'-the-wisps danced above twisted tombstones. Blue ghost flames flickered. The mournful cry of a raven pierced the lonely, chilling wind. The air was thick with the graveyard’s oppressive, yin aura.
As he approached, a skeleton clawed its way from the disturbed earth. Clutching a bone sword, it advanced with eerie menace.
Skeleton Soldier: Level 6
Health: 1000/1000
Physique: 37
Spirit: 15
Skill: Bone Slash
Wang Shikong observed it coolly. A fusion of light and dark energy coalesced in his hands before lashing out.
[-1000]
The Skeleton soldier, barely risen, crumpled into dust before it could take a step.
His Spirit stat now sat at 73, rivaling most mages around levels 12-13. Combined with the defensive benefits of his Blood-Eye Jade Pendant and the damage amplification from his Iron Scepter and Robes, dispatching a Level 6 creature demanded no more effort than a flick of his wrist.
Wang Shikong carved a path deeper into the graveyard. Skeletons died the moment they clawed free. Level 7 Skeleton Warriors emerged, then Level 8 Zombies shambled forth, and finally, Level 9 Fire Ravens darkened the air.
“The Fire Ravens come in swarms. Five at once,” he muttered. “Simple fusion can't clear them all out instantly. Getting a bit troublesome.”
Troublesome, but manageable. As the flock dove, talons blazing, he conjured a shimmering Water Barrier before him. The ravens crashed against it, their fiery assault utterly ineffective. Protected, he picked them off systematically.
[Ding! Your Level has increased by +1. Spirit +5, Physique +2]
Close to midnight, after vanquishing nearly two hundred monsters while outleveling them, he reached Level 4. The speed exceeded his expectations. The spoils included 522 Ebon Coins and a couple of mundane weapons.
“Spirit’s nearly depleted. Time for sleep.”
Returning to reality, Wang Shikong slipped into slumber.
The next morning, after breakfast, he entered the Eternal Continent again. Finding a message from Old Hu, he made his way back to the Rotting Manor dungeon. Within half an hour, he was inside.
“Captain!”
Old Hu and the others greeted him eagerly. “I recruited a new brother, a physique cultivator. Specializes in defense.”
“Captain,” rumbled a voice. A sturdy man, built like a linebacker, stood nearly two meters tall. He observed Wang Shikong with open curiosity. “Call me Immovable Mountain.”
Immovable Mountain? Wang Shikong looked at him intently. The future Guardian King? The Unyielding Rampart of the Heavenly Tiger Guild? Impressed by Old Hu’s eye for talent, he simply nodded. “Let’s go.”
“I’ll push your chair, Captain,” offered Yao Yi. Clad in her impressive gear, the Black Shadow Spear strapped to her back, she moved behind his wheelchair, her voice confident.
“Unnecessary,” he refused.
Yao Yi just smiled, ignored his protest, and pushed him forward into the dungeon.
Nightmare Difficulty.
Leveraging their previous experience, and crucially lacking any cripplingly inefficient mage this time, the addition of Immovable Mountain – shield held firm – smoothed their progress. They reached the inner courtyard swiftly.
“Now,” Wang Shikong addressed them, his voice calm but commanding, “focus. Follow my instructions precisely.”
“Yes, Captain!” Old Hu and the others replied with palpable tension.
Though they’d shed dead weight, they’d also lost the protective scrolls from the first run. Still, Yao Yi’s upgraded gear significantly boosted her combat power.
“Divine Inspiration!”
The buff washed over them. They charged.
Immovable Mountain witnessed firsthand Wang Shikong’s terrifying grasp of the entire battlefield. Sacred Light emanated from the seated figure, bathing the four teammates. Eyes shimmering with flecks of gold, Wang Shikong calmly dictated their moves, the Deus Lexicon open in his lap.
Thanks to the defensive skill granted by the Blood-Eye Jade – Bloodcloak Protection – Wang Shikong managed to deflect the Manor Mistress and her daughter’s ranged assaults. The young son’s sudden appearance caused chaos, ultimately claiming both Jingshan and Immovable Mountain before they secured victory.
“Four Iron pieces! And a physique cultivator skill book!” Old Hu stared at the loot dropped by the final boss, a wide grin splitting his face. Wealthy though he was, the thrill of earning powerful gear through pure skill was intoxicating. Wang Shikong maintained his 50/50 split share with the group.
“Regroup,” Wang Shikong said, a slight smile touching his lips. “We run it twice more this morning.”
The subsequent runs were notably smoother.
“Captain, 70,000 Ebon Coins.” Old Hu handed over a pouch after purchasing Immovable Mountain’s share of the loot. He glanced at the big man. “Captain… what do you think of Immovable Mountain? Does he make the team?”
“His strength suffices,” Wang Shikong stated flatly, shaking his head. “But I’m not taking another of your people, Old Hu. Should you be unavailable for missions in the future, he can substitute.”
“...Understood, Captain.” Old Hu couldn't fully hide his disappointment, though he knew the Divine Lexicon team couldn’t become his personal retinue.
Declining Yao Yi and Old Hu’s invitation to grind together, Wang Shikong returned to Azure Rain Town. Guided by memory, he navigated to a secluded courtyard. A wooden plaque on the open gate bore two characters: Academy.
Peering inside, he saw an old man dressed in threadbare robes, hunched over a table, absorbed in drawing and writing.
A small crowd of over a dozen hopefuls milled at the entrance, eyeing the scene curiously.
“Er Yue Hong seeks instruction!” one young man called out boldly. None truly knew the old man's purpose, only that he might offer a 'quest'.
The old man lifted his head. Dead fish eyes narrowed briefly, taking in the youth. “Can’t teach you,” he rasped dismissively, returning to his drawing.
The young man blinked in utter confusion. “...What?”
Wang Shikong saw his target. He guided his chair to the gate. “This junior seeks instruction,” he announced clearly.
“Hmm?”
The old man’s dead fish eyes snapped towards Wang Shikong. A pause. A flicker of pure, sharp light ignited within them. Slowly, deliberately, the old man stood up. “Good. Come in.” He gestured towards an inner room.
“What the hell?!” sputtered the rejected young man, eyes nearly bulging out of his head. He stared disbelievingly at Wang Shikong in his wheelchair, then back at the old man. “No freaking way! That cripple gets in and I don’t?” He jumped up and down in indignation. “The cripple gets inside? And I’m rejected?”
The other bystanders murmured in shock at the spectacle of the wheelchair-bound young man gaining entry where others failed.
The old man heard the outburst. He turned back towards the gate, his gaze sweeping over the bewildered crowd like a winter wind. A disdainful snort escaped him. His dead eyes fixed on the indignant youth.
“Cripple?” The old man's voice cut like ice. “If he is trash, then you lot are nothing but mayflies!”
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