After arranging everything in the royal city, Zhang Yang left.
First, he circled around his lair several times, using diameters of three hundred, five hundred, and eight hundred li. Only then did he finally put his mind at ease.
This region was filled with layer upon layer of mountains, sheer cliffs, and vast forests. It was truly quiet and remote. He would not encounter a gathering place of the Mirage Tribe Demons until he had gone beyond a diameter of eight hundred li, and even then, they were basically all those scattered, uncontrolled lower-level Mirage Tribe Demons.
After all, their reproductive power was extraordinarily strong, while the Devil Race controlling them did not possess the heaven-reaching ability to incorporate all those lower-level demons into the war system.
Thus, Zhang Yang found another mountain forest about a thousand li from his lair and began ten months of silent cultivation and secluded practice.
The so-called secluded practice was, of course, cultivation.
Now that he had activated the forced class-change mission, it was just as important as contending for dominion over the world. If he failed to complete the class change, he would still die.
Amid the gentle morning breeze, light mist drifted through the air, and the rising sun gleamed faintly.
The entire world awoke at that moment.
On a mountain cliff, Zhang Yang sat cross-legged, facing the red sun in the east. Clouds and mist rose below him. His mind guarded the One, while the spiritual qi around his body flowed back and forth, endless and unceasing.
This was the sight of him cultivating the Heaven-Stealing Primordial Creation Mystic Art.
After a long while, the sun reached its zenith. Zhang Yang slowly withdrew his spiritual qi, and the white spiritual qi around him could be seen being swallowed whole like