Chapter 53: The Mightiest Mountain Mover

Wei Cheng waited for thirty seconds before the marks of the three Immovable Golden Bells swiftly dissipated, vanishing without a trace.

A surge of elation flashed through his eyes, for this meant he now possessed three spare Immovable Golden Bells. As long as he wished, within thirty seconds, he could activate any of these three at will, layering them seamlessly, no longer fearing interruption, interference, or disruption from an enemy.

Most importantly, he could now withstand three, even five fireballs at once—pushing it to the limit, even six would not be impossible.

“If this were an exam, Zhou Wu could score eighty points, but my answer would be worth at least eighty-eight.”

Wei Cheng was deeply satisfied and immediately pressed on with his contemplations, hoping to make further progress.

Yet, after a long while, he found no further insights.

When he opened his eyes again, the sky had already brightened, and he found himself surrounded by a circle of companions—Liu Sui, Xu Shan, Cheng An, Yu Liang, Wang Wei, and others—standing guard and protecting him.

“Boss Wei, are you awake? As expected of the only one in our district to have perfectly cleared the fifth trial—able to meditate and cultivate even in this wretched place.”

Tang Xiaojun’s voice rang out from outside; it seemed he had recovered from yesterday’s blow.

Wei Cheng glanced at him—unsurprisingly, Tang Xiaojun had already grasped the second stage of the Moving Mountain Method, though clearly he had yet to master it fully.

He also noticed that most people looked weary and drained, as if plagued by nightmares—including Liu Sui and Xu Shan.

“Wei Cheng,” Zhou Wu’s voice sounded, “this place seems tainted by demonic forces. Last night, many with less than sixty years of cultivation suddenly fell into nightmares during their practice. Though none suffered harm, their spirits are now exhausted. If the Shadow Curse erupts today, I fear the effects will be much worse.”

“I see. Then let’s set out,” Wei Cheng replied without hesitation. Zhou Wu and the others had likely been waiting for him—if not for his strength and sharing of the second stage of the Moving Mountain Method, they would hardly have treated him with such courtesy.

Everyone moved out at once. Two scouting teams went ahead, followed by the main force.

On the way, Zhou Wu concisely explained the attack plan he, Tang Xiaojun, and Yang Yufeng had devised.

Given the unique nature of the antlered demons and the power of their fireballs, the guiding principle was a swift and decisive assault. Ideally, they would endure only a single volley of fireballs, then eliminate most of the antlered demons before the second volley could form.

“So, we’ll split into three teams. The first, comprised mainly of Moving Mountain practitioners, will launch a frontal feint and draw the brunt of the first wave of fireballs.”

“The second team, mainly Swallow’s Spirit practitioners, will use the gap after the first volley—before the second has gathered—to break through at top speed, aiming to dispatch as many boar demons and black giant apes as possible, or at least lure them away and tear open a path for the final assault.”

“The third team, led by Purple Mist practitioners, will serve as the main attacking force, striking to kill the antlered demons in the end.”

“Of these, the first team bears the greatest burden, facing the fireballs of nearly a dozen antlered demons head-on. The three of us will take the lead.”

“Second team, under the command of Yang Yufeng and Xu Shan.”

“Third team, led by Xu Guoliang and Liu Sui. What do you all think?”

“No objections,” Wei Cheng nodded. Tang Xiaojun agreed as well—there was nothing to discuss; those with the strongest defense should take the vanguard and draw enemy fire, not hang back or pick off stragglers.

From then on, they encountered no more demon scouting parties. The terrain gradually widened; they seemed to have left behind the collapsed basin. Yet in the distance, mountains still ringed them in endless layers.

When the demon stronghold finally came into view, Wei Cheng also saw a broken road stretching forward, disappearing between two mountains. There, nestled in the gap, stood a city gate—half-collapsed, yet still imposing.

Faint characters above read: Floating Cloud Pass.

The city was surrounded by steep slopes and continuous mountains. Though it was possible to climb over, one might get lost, and as trial-takers, how could they give up the chance to win the Inheritance Stele?

“Everyone, prepare for battle!” Zhou Wu shouted, surging ahead toward the ruined gate. Wei Cheng and Tang Xiaojun flanked him, one to the left, one to the right.

The three kept a distance of several dozen meters between them.

Behind them marched four Moving Mountain practitioners with seventy years of cultivation, and ten more with sixty—forming the core of the feint.

The second team lagged some hundred and fifty meters behind, Yang Yufeng to the right, Xu Shan to the left—each keeping their group spread out over a wide area.

The third team was three or four hundred meters back, also scattered across the hills. This formation would minimize casualties from fireballs and guard against a flanking attack.

Naturally, the scouting teams had already swept the surrounding area for miles and left sentinels at key vantage points as a precaution.

Their five hundred-strong force now had the look of a real army on the march.

But the true battle would be decided at the front.

Suddenly, atop Floating Cloud Pass, the blare of horns sounded, echoing with an ominous wail—whether warning or plea for help was unclear.

Immediately, twenty antlered demons surged out, more than Tang Xiaojun had reported. They moved with discipline—ten facing the front, five positioned on each flank.

As the horns blared, five massive boar demons charged out, forming a moving wall.

Behind them followed twelve black giant apes.

With these two kinds of thick-skinned, fiercely powerful demons leading the way, the antlered demons could fire their fireballs without restraint.

Last of all, a horde of purple-skinned demons appeared on the city wall, their gaping maws capable of swallowing a man whole in an instant.

“Damn it! Zhou Wu, what now?” Tang Xiaojun cursed, obviously rattled.

In truth, Zhou Wu’s scalp tingled at the sight. The others slowed, none eager to rush to their deaths.

The intelligence was clearly flawed—now the entire battle plan would have to be redrawn.

“What do you mean, what now? At this point, as Moving Mountain practitioners, it’s up to us to break through! The three of us will go first—I'll take the lead, you two cover me!” Wei Cheng shouted. There was no room for hesitation. If they didn’t charge, who would break the stalemate?

Without giving Zhou Wu or Tang Xiaojun a moment to react, Wei Cheng dashed forward without the slightest hesitation.

At the same time, his hands formed seals at lightning speed, conjuring the symbols of the Golden Bell with the ease of flowing water. Supported by his formidable mental strength, these seals lingered invisibly around him, echoing like the cry of wild geese, circling his body.

These were his three spare Immovable Golden Bells.

With the one he could instantly conjure, he could now unleash four in succession.

This was his advantage—an answer worth eighty-eight points!

In the blink of an eye, Wei Cheng charged toward the pass like a fearless beast.

His example banished the others’ hesitation. The Moving Mountain practitioners, seeing someone brave the brunt of the attack, no longer wavered and quickened their pace.

After all, with someone taking the lead and drawing the bulk of the enemy’s assault, who would not be willing to follow?