The constant fighting had left everyone exhausted in body and mind, with most of their true qi depleted. They found a relatively secluded rocky hollow and stopped to rest.
A campfire sprang to life, and snake meat sizzled over the flames, giving off an enticing aroma.
The flesh and blood of savage beasts contained abundant energy. Compared with the world's spiritual qi, which harbored malice and was extraordinarily violent, at least some of that energy could be refined to replenish their reserves.
Zhang Meng tore into the snake meat, wolfing it down. His primary cultivation technique, the Myriad Forms Treasure Body Art, required him to absorb the vital essences of myriad forms; the essences of metal and stone, flesh and blood could all be made his own. To him, the Savage Realm was nothing short of a cultivation paradise. In just a few days, his cultivation had advanced considerably.
For Chu Mo and the others, however, the benefits were greatly diminished, replenishing only a little of their spent true qi.
"By the way, Brother Chu," Ying Le said as he sliced off a piece of roasted snake meat, seemingly asking in passing, "what's your main cultivation technique these days?"
"Just an ordinary technique," Chu Mo said with a light laugh, brushing the question aside before asking in return:
"According to Brother Zhu, we should be nearing a native tribe tomorrow. How much do you know about them, Brother Ying?"
As though he really had only asked out of idle curiosity, Ying Le smoothly followed the change of subject. "The Savage Natives serve totems and draw their power from them.
"Those of the first tier are called Totem Warriors. Their bodies are formidable, but their methods are limited, mostly favoring close combat. If we cultivators keep our distance, they aren't hard to handle.
"Those of the second tier are priests, equivalent to our Foundation Establishment cultivators. They can wield some witchcraft, but the core of their power still lies in their totems. If the totem worshipped by their tribe is damaged, their strength plummets. They may even retain their tier without possessing the corresponding power.
"Above them are High Priests and Saints. In the past, the Savage Royal Court ruled over all the totems and controlled this realm.
"But the royal court fell long ago. The third- and fourth-tier experts were either killed or captured. Even the core totems worshipped by the royal court were long since plundered clean by the sect's senior cultivators."
Chu Mo nodded. This largely matched the information he had gathered.
At that moment, Zhu Ming, who had been waving a feather fan beside them, chimed in with a hint of superiority in his voice. "Though native priests are of the same tier as Foundation Establishment High Persons, the difference between them is like that between clouds and mud."
He winked at the others, keeping them in suspense. "Do you know why?"
Ying Le waited a moment. Seeing that he still refused to explain, he said helplessly, "Brother Zhu, stop whetting our appetites."
Zhu Ming laughed heartily. Under everyone's expectant gazes, he finally began to explain. "There are superior and inferior paths to Foundation Establishment.
"When Qi Refining reaches perfection and the dantian is full, leaving no room for further progress, one takes a Foundation Establishment Pill and opens an 'aperture' within the body, vastly increasing its capacity for true qi. This is inferior Foundation Establishment.
"It's mostly chosen by poorly informed rogue cultivators. People often mock this kind of Foundation Establishment as 'Qi Refining, Eleventh Layer.' Its foundations are shaky, and its prospects limited."
"As for superior Foundation Establishment..." He paused, gently waving his feather fan. His tone suddenly became solemn and yearning.
"One uses one's own Dao to draw in a Dao Register or Heavenly Register suited to oneself. With that as the core, one opens a Dao Mansion... in the unseen depths!"
"This is 'register-bearing mansion opening'!"
"Register-bearing mansion opening?" everyone echoed.
"Exactly. A Dao Mansion—or a Dharma Estate, or an inner landscape world, if you prefer."
Longing shone in Zhu Ming's eyes. "For those who achieve register-bearing mansion opening, true qi transforms into magical power, surging like mighty rivers.
"As the saying goes, 'Once the Dao Mansion opens, magical power springs forth.' Once formed, the Dao Mansion continuously generates numinous vitality to nourish its owner!"
He grew more excited as he spoke. "The numinous vitality within the Dao Mansion holds endless mysteries. It can nourish the soul, making it increasingly condensed, and nurture one's Life-bound Magical Treasure, enhancing its spirituality and power."
He swept his gaze over them, his voice impassioned. "From that point onward, cultivators free themselves, to some extent, from dependence on the spiritual qi of the world outside.
"Even in a land devoid of spiritual energy or a domain where the Dharma has waned, they can continue cultivating through their own Dao Mansions without any loss of combat strength!"
"Brother Zhu," Chu Mo said after a moment's thought, seizing on the crucial point, "what exactly is the difference between a Dao Register and a Heavenly Register?"
Zhu Ming, who had been speaking so confidently a moment before, suddenly faltered, embarrassment showing on his face. "Well... I've heard that Foundation Establishment with a Heavenly Register might be, probably, somewhat stronger... I think?"
His knowledge was hearsay too, and he only half understood it himself, making a detailed explanation difficult.
"Probably?" Ying Le raised an eyebrow.
Zhu Ming gave an awkward smile. He had only wanted to show off his knowledge. How could he have known a sudden question would leave him stumped?
He coughed twice and hastily changed the subject. "In any case, superior Foundation Establishment is far beyond the Lesser Vehicle. Those native priests borrow power from external totems, like trees without roots.
"How could they compare to Foundation Establishment High Persons who open their own Dao Mansions? If we manage to advance to Foundation Establishment, this is what we ought to aim for."
With that, the discussion ended. Everyone sat cross-legged to regulate their breathing, drawing energy from spell coins to restore their true qi.
Chu Mo closed his eyes and focused, but his mind could not help returning to the eight Foundation Establishment High Persons overseeing the assessment. Had they all achieved register-bearing mansion opening?
Meanwhile, in a crude camp carved out beside a steep cliff.
A Totem Warrior who appeared to be the leader stared at the center of the camp, his face full of loathing.
Several wooden poles had been driven deep into the ground there. Atop them, three Duwe disciples hung limply, their chests pierced by spears, their blood already dried and blackened.
"Those damned locusts are back!" He smashed his fist into a nearby rock, sending chips flying. "They trampled the royal court, slaughtered our tribes, and even stole the great 'spirit of the mountains' totem! Wasn't that enough?!"
A young warrior said through gritted teeth, "Chief, the Saint died in battle, and all the High Priests were taken away... can we, can we still reclaim our homeland?"
"Reclaim our homeland? Easier said than done. The royal court has already fallen..."
The chief's eyes dimmed for a moment as memories flashed through his mind of the horrors brought by those demons who called themselves "immortal cultivators":
Monstrous warships roaming the nine heavens, terrifying Dharma manifestations spanning heaven and earth, rains of fiery meteors that burned everything to ash... even the great sun, which had endured since time immemorial, had been caught in the fighting and left permanently scarred.
He abruptly came to his senses amid the worried calls of the tribespeople beside him. Looking at the Duwe disciples' corpses, he sighed. "This camp has been exposed. We can't stay here any longer."
The chief knew these were merely the enemy's lowest-ranking disciples. His tribespeople, meanwhile, had been turned into an "assessment" for the immortal cultivators' juniors.
It was just like tribal warriors having to hunt a savage beast alone to prove themselves upon coming of age, except the savage beasts had been replaced by his own people.
After a moment, the chief made his decision. "I've already contacted several other scattered tribes. We've agreed to meet at the edge of the Forbidden Land.
"The conditions there are harsher, but these locusts won't dare venture too deep into it either. We'll build up our strength there and wait for our chance!"
Looking at his dispirited tribespeople, he tried hard to rally their spirits, yet a faint unease lingered in his heart.
At some point, he had begun to feel as though, somewhere in the unseen depths, he could always hear the faint, mournful cries of the "spirit of heaven"...