The Programmer Cultivator

Zhang Deming shook his head and said, ”It’s a Restriction core at most. It only looks complicated because its large size allows for more components.”

As Zhang Deming spoke, he reached out and pointed a finger. With a surge of Spiritual Power, the lines of spiritual energy across the square all collapsed, dissolving into a field of Spiritual Power Light Points.

The faint influence of the Array that had permeated the entire city completely dissipated.

After finishing this, Zhang Deming did not leave. He and his two companions hovered several meters above the center of the square. The Spiritual Power he had consumed during the earlier combat had long since been fully replenished by his automated scripts, including the reserves within his Dark Pawn.

Zhang Deming took a deep breath. Amidst intense fluctuations of Spiritual Power, he declared, ”Law Order: This city is forbidden from the evils I have specified. Violators shall be lashed by the Whip of the Heart Spirit!”

With the issuance of a city-wide Law Order, the Spiritual Power in Zhang Deming’s body was instantly depleted by four-fifths. A strange ripple spread throughout the entire city, and everyone heard his words clearly.

”AHHH...”

As the Law Order took effect, many people who had lost their minds were snapped awake by the lashing of the whip, screaming in pain. They looked at themselves, somewhat dazed.

Zhang Deming didn’t stop there. The Dark Pawn within him pulsed, and he spoke again, ”I heard a rumor. It’s said that all the people of this city will gather in this square to see what’s happening.”

Once again, the effect of the city-wide Technique spread, and all the people of Jing City began to converge on the square.

The ordinary people didn’t even realize they were being controlled; they subconsciously felt an urge to go see what was happening at the square. As for the Martial Artists who had been wreaking havoc across the city, the Elites among them with Postnatal Cultivation and above understood what was happening, but they were completely unable to resist.

In the City Lord’s Mansion, the Grandmaster leading the group—a man comparable to an Advanced Apprentice who had yet to make a move—was struggling violently.

While trying to regain control of his body, he said with a face full of terror, ”Didn’t they say it would take at least a day for the Upper Sects to react?

”And it should take even longer for them to reach Panzhou. Why would a Cultivator of this level arrive in just half a day...”

”I don’t know! There’s been no other news from the clan,” a young man, struggling in terror just like him, replied.

But their struggles were futile. Their bodies moved uncontrollably toward the square.

***

Zhang Deming’s two Oratory skills had consumed all the Spiritual Power in his Dark Pawn and even a bit from his Dantian. The drain was ongoing, but it was no longer a massive expenditure.

While circulating his Cultivation Technique to recover Spiritual Power, he watched the crowd gathering in the square below.

Behind him, Wang Qian watched this scene—a whole city of mortals controlled by mere words—with a look of utter shock. In that moment, she fully understood what it meant to be an Immortal, and the difference between Immortal and Mortal.

Even Qin Shizhong was slightly startled, seeing the massive area-of-effect of Zhang Deming’s Technique. The intensity of this Technique was nearly on par with that of a Three Talents Cultivator.

Meanwhile, down in the square, people were beginning to gather densely. But they weren’t assembling chaotically; instead, they were forming neat, orderly squares.

It was only then that many people realized they seemed to be under some kind of control.

Some were terrified, some struggled frantically, and some even became hysterical. But most were silent, silently watching the figure hovering several meters above the square.

A gentle breeze blew. With his wings slightly spread and a serene expression, Zhang Deming floated with a man and a woman behind him. The entire image was the very picture of what one would call an Immortal.

Zhang Deming gazed calmly at the crowd below, unfazed by the countless eyes staring up at him.

Only after everyone had gathered did Zhang Deming look down at the masses and say, ”Good, it looks like everyone is here. I should be thankful this Apprentice Recruitment Plaza is so large, otherwise it really wouldn’t have held you all.

”I imagine you’ve all guessed who I am, but allow me to introduce myself anyway.

”I am the Peak Master of Spirit Nurturing Peak of the Celestial Spirit Sect. In other words, I’m what you would call an Immortal—an Upper Immortal, to be precise.”

Upon hearing this, Qin Shizhong was the first to tremble, forcefully suppressing the look of horror on his face.

”We welcome the Upper Immortal!”

From somewhere in the crowd, someone started it. The call suddenly caught on, and a dense sea of people knelt, bowing their heads in a somewhat ragged salute.

This action made Zhang Deming pause. After a moment, he continued, ”Your Jing City, and indeed all of Panzhou, falls under the jurisdiction of the Celestial Spirit Sect.

”Normally, there is a distinction between Immortal and Mortal. You live your lives and experience the Eight Sufferings: birth, old age, sickness, death, meeting those you hate, parting with those you love, failing to obtain what you desire, and the suffering of the five skandhas.

”We Immortals typically can’t be bothered to get involved, nor do we wish to meddle in this boundless Red Dust, but...”

Zhang Deming turned his head to look at a specially designated phalanx in the crowd and continued, ”But this time, some mortals have gone too far.

”The situation has escalated beyond normal circumstances. Therefore, we—the ethereal Immortals of your legends, who are said to be above the affairs of the Human World—have no choice but to show ourselves and intervene in your lives, to intervene in this churning Red Dust.”

”We thank the Upper Immortal for his compassion!”

The voice rang out again, successfully setting the tone. The dense crowd once more kowtowed in salute. It was much easier this time, as they didn’t have to kneel again—after kneeling the first time, no one had dared to stand up without a signal.

Zhang Deming instantly turned his head, his gaze locking onto one person in the crowd.

It was an old man in his fifties. Judging by his attire, he looked like one of the city’s Stewards. Well, based on his actions, he was more of a professional bootlicker.

That was probably how he avoided being specifically targeted and killed by the Martial Artists in the initial chaos, thus escaping disaster.

Right now, the man was carefully shrinking his body and lowering his head, trying his best to reduce his presence. Yet, he hadn’t forgotten his natural instinct to suck up, his professional dedication on full display.