Bombarding Cultivators with Cluster Artillery

Green mountains stretched out endlessly, a vast expanse.

Ancient trees were everywhere, dead vines clung to their trunks, and the forest understory was dark and profound, barely touched by sunlight, with birds and beasts flitting through the treetops, half-seen.

Accompanied by a faint white light, a figure suddenly appeared in the sky, plummeting straight down.

At first, the figure was striped with dark green, changing during the fall as light played over its surface.

One moment it became semi-transparent like the air, another it took on the pattern of green leaves and brown dead branches, and finally it assumed the color of the brown and yellow fallen leaves on the ground, virtually undetectable unless looked at closely.

”Warning! Impact detected...”

”Oxygen concentration normal... no harmful gases... faint spiritual energy concentration...”

The moment he fell, Jiang Ding hugged his knees like a ball rolling from the treetops to the ground, as his tactical helmet reported a series of data.

It was just a height of tens of meters, and with the protection of his camouflage outfit cushioning the fall, he wasn’t injured.

”There are animals and plants, the air is normal, there is spiritual energy...”

Jiang Ding stood up, took a deep breath, and knew his adventure had been a success.

He couldn’t afford any carelessness.

If this was an Outer Realm Cultivator’s territory, then it would be all over, so he needed to be cautious and not expose modern technological items rashly.

”Return.”

Jiang Ding said quietly to himself.

In a blur, the vast wilderness vanished, replaced by the white background wall of a hotel room, with a view of Rongcheng City’s First Hospital bustling with people through the window.

Jiang Ding relaxed, ”Let’s return once more.”

Gripping his longsword, he moved cautiously through the dense forest until he found a large rock where sunlight was visible. He took out two cylindrical objects the size of basketballs from his backpack and placed them on the ground, pulling the fuses one by one.

Bang! Bang!

With the flash of propellant fire, four drones one after another flew up to several dozen meters in the air, stumbled for a moment, then spread their rotors to stabilize in the sky, forming a standard square formation.

Jiang Ding took out a control handle, and the four drones climbed higher and higher until they reached an altitude of more than two thousand meters—beyond the limit of most Foundation-building cultivators’ Divine Sense, which was under two thousand meters, and where most birds could not fly, which was relatively safe.

The drone cameras switched on, and the tactical helmet’s left and right field of views projected images of the landscape rapidly shrinking beneath them, while blue dots kept popping up on the screen.

”Unknown primate species, mortal creatures...”

”Interlocking Black and White Striped Tiger...”

”Unknown serpentine species...”

Information on the various large animals spotted within a six-square-kilometer range, including their species, locations, and strengths, was updated swiftly.

Life forms that matched the strength of the Internal Qi Realm were marked with red dots by Jiang Ding’s settings. Current observations hadn’t revealed any, which was consistent with the ecosystem of a low-spiritual-energy environment.

”Unknown creatures! So many!” Jiang Ding’s hand trembled, his tone filled with surprise and delight.

The thirst for knowledge at the Xianmen Sect was insatiable!

Nature is a vast treasure house, and one of its most precious riches is the structure of the various animal and plant bodies in the ecosystem, their genetic codes.

Whether it’s the mimicry research of dragonfly wings and grass serrations during the non-spiritual era or the study and manufacturing of modern Cultivation Methods and Magic Tools, the research and development of new Elixirs and more, they deeply reference the structures and materials evolved in the animal and plant kingdom. Every new species of flora and fauna held a possibility and was invaluable to the Xianmen Sect.

The Xianmen Library stipulated that submitting a complete specimen of an unknown animal or plant would earn 1 point.

The points from the Xianmen Library had significant uses, the main ones being twofold.

The first was that library points could be exchanged for guidance and answers from High-Level Cultivators— not the kind of casual advice given when they’re in a good mood for you to interpret on your own, but serious and detailed answers under the supervision of the Central Array Spirit Computer, making a concerted effort to help you understand.

Second, if one accumulates ten thousand points, the Central Array Spirit Computer could create a personalized Cultivation Method for a particular Cultivator, tailored to their realm of prowess.

Talent, talent!

If one’s Cultivation Method aligns perfectly with a person, even if their natural abilities are poor, practicing a fully compatible Cultivation Method naturally achieves the highest requirements of the method, how could they not be considered a prodigy?

”This is the charm of exploring unknown worlds.”

Jiang Ding left one drone hovering in reserve and operated the other three to spread out in three different directions, each approximately five kilometers apart from each other.

He was marking out a safe zone with a radius of at least ten kilometers.

”Buildings, human traces?” Jiang Ding’s heart tightened.

In the view of the drone, a winding and narrow mountain path appeared, leading to a few mud-brick thatched cottages with large holes in their roofs, allowing a view of tall grass and shrubs inside, and a broken mud Buddha head on the ground.

Jiang Ding had no intention of making contact with humans at the moment,

as the language barrier was a big issue.

Soon, the three drones each reached their designated positions without further discoveries.

Clang!

The longsword was drawn and struck at a sudden appearance of a bright red snake head, cutting its meter-long body cleanly in half.

”Unknown serpentine species, mortal creature.”

The tactical helmet’s alarm sounded belatedly.

Jiang Ding frowned, ”It’s a civilian product after all, lacking precision, and there are oversights in monitoring small creatures.”

He also felt it was a pity,

for it was an unknown creature not yet recorded in the Xianmen Library, which could have earned him 1 point if captured.

The absence of a container was a problem; he would need to buy a sturdier specimen box, or it would be troublesome if someone got hurt.

Unfortunately, he was out of money, not a single cent left.

Jiang Ding’s gaze was drawn to a dark green plant with multiply forked leaves, lying beneath the snake corpse. He zoomed in the camera’s focus.

”Unknown plant, can be named.”

”Forked Grass.”

Jiang Ding casually remarked that compared to animals, plants are easier to collect and a bit safer, but one must ensure the integrity of the root system, leaves, and stem.

Drawing his sword, he sliced through a tree as thick as a thigh, then chopped it into planks to be kept as specimen boxes.

Jiang Ding carefully dug up the root system, gradually removing the soil before gathering the stems and leaves. It was a meticulous task—there couldn’t be a single oversight that would break the roots or leaves.

After a long while, he collected intact specimens and fixed each one to thin wooden boards with little wooden forks.

”21 minutes, 1 point.”

Jiang Ding glanced at the clock on his tactical helmet and silently calculated, ”Even if I worked nonstop, without having to travel everywhere to gather them, it would still take at least half a year to save up ten thousand points!”

”Not to mention many plants have root systems and stems that are far more developed than grass, 21 minutes isn’t nearly enough for collection. Adding up all the time needed, it probably wouldn’t be enough even in 4.5 years.”

Yes, despite this, Jiang Ding didn’t stop but instead found another grassy plant to start digging up.

Compared to the completely hopeless cultivation practices of the past, this feeling of gradually approaching his goal was good, so he didn’t find it tedious.

He dug for over four hours. The sun was directly overhead, and the weather was increasingly hot.

Jiang Ding could still endure it, but back home, it was already past ten at night. If he didn’t return soon, his mother might call the police.

...

He opened his eyes.

Night had descended outside the window, neon lights flickered, and the entrance to the first city hospital was still bustling.

Jiang Ding looked at the stack of specimen boards cradled in his arms, showing a look of contemplation.

Having inherited the legacy of a previous civilization and survived many civil wars, the Xianmen today had made great efforts in achieving fairness.

Even high-level cultivators, who could burn mountains and boil seas, were not allowed to take the life of a mortal.

It wasn’t arbitrary—if a cultivator did not act unlawfully, did not commit any act of aggression, no matter the reasons or whether it attracted public attention, high-level cultivators were forbidden to kill even the weakest mortal.

If they violated this, the legacy of the ancestral sages, the Central Array Spirit Computer, would teach the offender what true power is, what true might is!

Even a Nascent Soul cultivator could not influence the programming logic of the Central Array Spirit Computer and invade anyone’s privacy.

Unless they destroyed it.

After placing fourteen specimen boards on the ground, Jiang Ding took out his cellphone, entered the Xianmen Library app, applied to submit the newly discovered plant specimens, hoping for anonymity and confidentiality, then sat on the bed to rest.

He trusted the Central Array Spirit Computer; that high score in moral conscience wasn’t just for show.

Thump, thump thump!

Chirp chirp!

A few minutes later, the sound of a bird lightly pecking at the window came from outside.

Jiang Ding opened the window, and a palm-sized Cui Bird, no longer invisibly cloaked, flew into the room.

Hooked in its claws was a specimen box nearly as tall as a person, which looked quite awkward compared to its tiny body.

Jiang Ding relaxed.

This little guy, the Cui Bird, was a messenger for the Central Array Spirit Computer and the localized Array Spirit Computers. They usually lived on the mainframe of the Central Array Spirit Computer—the Divine Tree of Heaven—and the various branches around different locations.

”Chirp chirp!”

The little Cui Bird urged him on.

Jiang Ding felt it was somewhat displeased, sensing it had been dragged from its time off to do overtime. He quickly opened the specimen box and carefully placed the fourteen specimen boards inside.

”Thank you for your hard work, much appreciated!”

”Chirp!”

The Cui Bird shot him a look, grabbed the specimen box, and became transparent along with the box before vanishing through the window.

Jiang Ding took off his helmet, exhaled softly, and stripped off his camouflage gear, gloves, and boots. He changed into his regular school uniform, then packed the three drones back into a cardboard box.

One more drone floated in the sky of another world.

Jiang Ding needed 24-hour intelligence on that area; otherwise, it would be dangerous if someone ambushed him when he traveled there again.

The detection precision of civilian drones was just passable. Likely a simple layer of mud on one’s body could evade them.

Check out.

He didn’t attract any attention. People were constantly coming and going in the hotel; there was a myriad of characters. If the front desk staff were curious about every oddity, their brains would be overloaded.

Back home, his mom had indeed returned and was watching television with Jiang Yuan.

Lin Wanqiu had a stern face. ”Dingding, where have you been? It’s so late for you to come back.”

Fortunately, he had taken a bath at the hotel, so there was no mud or sweat on his body.

”I was playing in the park with classmates.”

”Mom! He’s lying!” Jiang Yuan shouted, creating chaos as usual: ”He has never played with any classmates until 11:30 at night before.”

Jiang Ding ignored her, hugged the cardboard box, and quickly walked to his room to put things away, then took a bottle of drink from the fridge and sat next to Lin Wanqiu.

Lin Wanqiu was a technician at the Rongcheng Steel Plant, at the realm of Internal Qi Perfection, and earned a decent salary, even though she often needed to work overtime until eight or nine o’clock at night.

Of course, Lin Wanqiu had to be graceful and pretty to have given birth to a handsome young man like Jiang Ding. It was said that when Lin Wanqiu and Jiang Ding’s father, Jiang Chaoyang, were in school, people had teasingly referred to them as the campus flower and campus grass, a match made in heaven, and that they ultimately became a couple.

As for what happened afterward, all one could do was sigh; the fairy tales of princes and princesses indeed only exist in books.

”Dingding, it can be dangerous outside late at night...”

Lin Wanqiu looked at Jiang Ding, worried, yet hesitated to continue.

”Mom, don’t worry, the security in Rong City is really good.” Jiang Ding reassured her. ”If others play too late next time, I’ll come back early.”

The family chatted for a while before getting up and retiring to their rooms.

Normally, by 11:00 p.m., Lin Wanqiu and Jiang Yuan would be asleep. They had stayed up especially late to wait for Jiang Ding and were already dead tired.