"Isn't that so!"
The lean, wiry man slapped the table, drawing glances from the neighboring tables. He paid them no mind and said indignantly, "Once the flames of war are lit, how could those lofty sects and great clans care whether people like us live or die when they're fighting over resources and territory?
They'll definitely forcefully conscript us and drag us off to serve as cannon fodder at the front lines!
When that time comes, our fates won't be our own, and life or death will be impossible to predict!"
"Indeed!" a middle-aged cultivator who had remained silent all this time said gravely.
"Unless...
We are willing to give up the cultivation we obtained with such difficulty and flee back to the mortal world, where Spirit Energy is barren as a desert, to eke out a miserable existence.
Otherwise, in this Cultivation World, escaping this possible calamity will be as hard as climbing to the heavens!
Everyone, make your preparations early!"
"Prepare now?" the old daoist gave a bitter laugh and carefully drew a Talisman bearing a winding fire snake from his robes.
"I'm afraid it's already a little too late!
Look at the shops—Talismans, Spirit Pills, Array Disks... any strategic resource that can be used in battle or to save one's life—
Which of them hasn't begun to be rationed?
And the prices change by the day, rising so fast they make one's heart pound in alarm!
This [Fire Snake Talisman] alone cost this old daoist two whole low-grade Spirit Stones more today than it did three days ago!
That was only because I had some acquaintance with the manager of Hundred Talismans Pavilion, allowing me to snatch up a purchase quota.
Otherwise..."
He shook his head. Everyone present understood the unspoken meaning—
Even with money, they might