Humanity's Great Sage-Chapter 504: Heaven’s Feud With Me

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Lu Ye withdrew his gaze and continued on his way.

An hour later, he found another cave which he slipped inside of and worked on conjuring more wards.

The Token of Providence event had ended and the pentachromatic iridescent clouds were gone, but that did not mean the end of the impromptu battle royale. If Eighth- and Ninth-Order Cultivators were usually reluctant to fight, the distribution of Amulets by the event was certainly an impetus that lighted a spark to the tinderbox, making this a savage brawl where all scruples were either temporarily deferred or downright forgotten.

The names on the Roster of Carnage never stopped shifting up and down with every triumph and defeat as the gritting slaughter continued, reminiscent of the rapid frenzy of a split-flap display.

Such was the Carnage Colosseum—an environment of untold perils for weaker and younger Cultivators, but a cornucopia of opportunities for those whose thirst for more action or rewards remained unsatiated. To that end, even as time passed, the number of Cultivators in the Colosseum did not reduce. Instead, more Cultivators were swarming into the Colosseum.

They did not come to get their names on the Roster of Carnage. With numerous Cultivators faster and deadlier than them, there really was no chance of climbing the Roster of Carnage. Even if they did, the placements would not be high enough to guarantee any rich rewards. The true value of being ranked on the Roster of Carnage was getting into one of the first twenty spots where winners would be awarded Gold Amulets.

Their target was also not the Token of Providence events which would eventually culminate into nothing more than just brutal free-for-alls where low-tier Cultivators would count themselves lucky to survive, let alone expect to win any Amulets.

For what then? What could impel these Cultivators into entering the Colosseum willingly at the risk of their own safety and life? It was the countless opportunities that abound the entire Colosseum.

Lu Ye had finished his latest multi-point Teleportation Ward after testing its link to the rest of the wards scattered everywhere else and was leaving the cave when he saw a twinkle of light winking at him.

He could have sworn that the speck of light was not there when he first came, meaning that it only appeared recently. Which Lu Ye was quite certain was the case or he would have not missed something so obvious the moment he arrived.

The twinkling speck of light must have appeared only after he went inside the cave to construct the wards.

Lu Ye recognized what the twinkling light was. He had read about them before from the Divine Trade Association materials.

Without any hesitation, he strode to the light and groped at it.

The light vanished immediately the moment he closed his fist around something solid, revealing it as an Amulet of the lowest class: a White one.

Nevertheless, Lu Ye knew better than to look at a gift horse in the mouth. He got the Amulet for nothing after all.

Not wanting to loiter, he left quickly.

Specks of light heralding surprises could be a common occurrence in the Colosseum. As to what surprises these glow orbs held, no one could tell for sure.

It could be Spirit Stones, Pills, or even Spirit Artifacts and Amulets—anything that could be a boon, big or small, to all Cultivators. They could appear any moment, any time, anywhere. Such were the fortuitous opportunities that teemed the treacherous Carnage Colosseum.

There was no doubt that the appearances of these encounters were the handiwork and elaborate contrivances of the invisible hand that steered all that occurs in the Battlefield—the mysterious entity known as the Heavens who shared the same cold-hearted indifference of a man toying with an ant nest by luring more Cultivators into the Battlefield using various sorts of valuable supplies they were so dependent on.

Thus every time the Carnage Colosseum opened, it marked the launch of another festival—one of brutal slaughter and untold opportunities.

Nevertheless, it was these pervasively widespread opportunities that were the motivations that had lured so many Cultivators—strong, mediocre, and weak alike—into the Colosseum. The very element that worked like a charm. Most of them were not here for the Roster of Carnage and even fewer would ever hope to benefit from any Token of Providence events, hence they did all they could to stay alive. So long as they drew breath, they could encounter more prizes anywhere around the Colosseum.

Lu Ye might have picked up a pathetic White Amulet, but on another day, he might be lucky enough to stumble upon a Gold Amulet or even a Wisp of Sanctification. There were rumors of a Cultivator who had once struck gold by finding a Spirit Artifact so rare that it was worth a queen’s ransom.

In the meantime, Lu Ye went on searching for more locations to stash his Teleportation Wards, which were simple and straightforward enough for him all thanks to Glyph: Concealment and his incredible spiritual senses.

Time breezed by swiftly.

A day had passed, and Lu Ye was sitting in a subterranean cavern, right at the center of the newest Teleportation Ward he had constructed.

He had completed twelve multi-link Teleportation Wards and each of them could at least send him to two other wards elsewhere. This was the safety net that he would rely on if and when his identity was exposed. He could choose to stand and fight, but in the event of overwhelming odds, Lu Ye could always fall back to any one of the Teleportation Wards and escape elsewhere.

But right now, he remained there, completely immobile.

The Carnage Colosseum might be a veritable treasure trove filled to the gunnels with prizes and chances, but so were its perils. More so, since virtually every Thousand Demon Ridge Cultivator would have been informed of his presence in the Colosseum by now. For all he knew, there could be parties actively scouring every inch of the Colosseum with a fine tooth comb for him. To that end, he thought it wise to just sit tight for the moment.

Being down underground, Lu Ye could not see the Roster of Carnage. The last time he saw it, his name had been pushed out of the fiftieth spot again. With enough time, his name would be off the Roster of Carnage.

Every two hours, Lu Ye would activate his Teleportation Ward to reassess its link with the rest, examining to see if any one of the wards in the whole network had failed.

He had taken special care to choose only spots covert and concealed, but one could never be too careful. One could not discount the possibility of a curious Cultivator venturing inside for a look, especially the one he came from earlier. With the Heavens sprinkling goodies everywhere in the vicinity, somebody might be inquisitive enough for a spelunking trip inside the cave, hoping to find some hidden treasure.

Fortunately, there were his self-destructive wards for this contingency. Once triggered, the wards would detonate and destroy every trace of him ever being there before. No one would discover what he had done there.

Not far away, he could sense signatures of Spiritual Power erupting. A fight had to be going on nearby and from the strength of the signatures, the combatants had to be at least Seventh-Orders.

Which hardly surprised Lu Ye since fights like these happened everywhere in the Colosseum.

He would just have to stay down here. If anyone were to discover him hiding here, he would just immediately teleport elsewhere.

[Safe. I’m safe.] A satisfied Lu Ye mused, feeling somewhat secure. All he had to do was wait until the Colosseum’s conclusion so that he could get out of this accursed death trap.

He swallowed another Spirit Pill and took out another manuscript to read. Lu Ye had finished reading everything Lady Yun gave him, but he recently learned that re-reading them would yield fresh discoveries—details that he had missed out before during his first read, making the activity the best way to kill time.

Lu Ye was reading when an anomaly in the space before him tore his attention away. Right in front of him, hanging in mid-air, was a tiny black dot that had appeared out of nowhere. Lu Ye observed it intently. The black dot gradually grew in size before it began spinning in spirals. Next, a speck of gold bloomed like a blinding flower.

As the golden speck of light turned brighter and bigger, Lu Ye saw what it was: a Gold Amulet. Suspended almost a meter above ground as if by an invisible force, it swayed lazily to the motion of an unseen undulation in the air.

The Gold Amulet looked no different from the Gold Amulets he had seen before, save for a strange pale-emerald glow enveloping it.

Lu Ye squinted his eyes as a foreboding dread coiled its claws around him.

[Oh no!]

Lu Ye knew exactly what it was. That a Gold Amulet would appear before him out of the blue could never be a random coincidence!

The entity known as the Heavens selected a Cultivator every day and bestowed upon the chosen a Gold Amulet. But unlike all other Gold Amulets that could be stowed away, kept, or even used immediately, this particular Gold Amulet could never be touched until after twenty-four hours.

But that was hardly the entirety of the caveat. Gold Amulets bestowed in this manner would emit a pulsing blast of Spiritual Power every six hours, thus exposing its bearer’s position no matter where he or she could be hiding. Any other Cultivator nearby would instantly be alerted.

Lu Ye stared at the saffron-gold luminescence bobbing placidly several inches from him with a conflicted grimace.

He could barely articulate how he felt right now. [Is this good luck or is this the worst one possible?]

Out of the hundreds and thousands of Cultivators scattered across the vast Colosseum expanse, he was chosen to be awarded—or cursed—with the Gold Amulet. Lu Ye had made up his mind to ride out the Carnage Colosseum until its end and for that to happen, he expected to stay hidden the whole time. Now this. How was he going to stay hidden with something that would broadcast his position every six hours attached to his hip? If this proverbial thorn was going to stay figuratively embedded in him, that would mean that he would be exposed to dangers at least three to four times for the next twenty-four hours.

[Just what the hell is going on?]

[Do the Heavens have a feud with me?] Lu Ye was picking up a pattern here. The many-hued iridescent cloud during the Token of Providence event before was clearly intended for him even when he was painstakingly trying to keep a low profile. Yet here the Heavens had just dropped a bombshell right into his lap once again.

[So much for having good luck,] he mused sardonically.

Lu Ye watched the Gold Amulet basking in its aureate flame-like glow. Then an idea came to him. But he needed to test it out and to do that would incur a certain amount of risk. Deciding to grind and bear the consequences anyhow, he activated the Teleportation Ward he was sitting inside of. Next second, he began to feel the strange sensation native to the use of Teleportation Ward: a powerful pull as if the ground beneath him had vanished into a bottomless abyss and he was being drawn into it. A split-second later, Lu Ye was gone as if the ground had swallowed him whole.

If only he could avoid using the Teleportation Ward. Using the ward—this one and the one that he wished to be conveyed to—produced Spiritual Power emanations—signatures that everyone else nearby could detect and this was detrimental to his plans.

But there was little time to worry about that now.

By the time the strange tugging feeling was gone, he found himself sitting at the center of another one of his Teleportation Wards more than two hundred miles away, nauseous and discombobulated by the ordeal.

But there was no rest for the wicked; the first thing he did was to project his senses and make sure that he was alone. Only when he was satisfied that the coast was clear did he finally breathe his first sigh of relief in what had been several minutes of gripping anxiety.

He looked up and saw something that immediately weighed on his shoulder like a hill.

Even after two hundred miles away, the Gold Amulet remained attached to him like a monkey on one’s back.

As much as he anticipated this, seeing with his own eyes what he dreaded transpiring came like a sledgehammer blow.

But he was not surprised. Knowing full well that this was another one of the Heavens’ ironic contrivances, he never expected to be let off the hook easily.

And since he couldn’t change a thing, then he would have to meet this difficulty as best as he could.

He reached for the Gold Amulet and clutched it in his fist. It was hard. The pale-chartreuse phosphorescence looked fragile like a marshmallow at first glance, but it was as unexpectedly hard as a diamond.

He tested trying to stow the Amulet away, but to no avail too.

It was true then. This Gold Amulet would remain stuck on him for twenty-four hours.

It couldn’t be put away nor used.

As much as this predicament had almost sent him into a panicking frenzy, perhaps it wasn’t that bad anyway.

Any other Cloud River Realm Third-Order would have to start ruing their imminent doom if they were beset by such a fate unless they were lucky enough to latch themselves to a champion powerful enough to protect them, otherwise, good luck trying to stay alive with their position getting broadcasted every six hours.

But Lu Ye had a real chance of staying alive.

For what it was worth, he was grateful that he had not been idle. The entire day’s worth of work in constructing all twelve Teleportation Wards had paid off.

So even if his position was broadcasted, Lu Ye could easily teleport himself to the next ward. That could mean losing one ward whenever his position was being exposed—three to four Teleportation Wards—but it was a price he was willing to pay if it ended with him winning a Gold Amulet.

An Amulet of this quality would no doubt be a boon to his progress.

Reflecting on the forthcoming fruits of his labor at least restored some sense of confidence in him.

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