Mythical Cultivation

Chapter 370: A World of Illusions (1)

Wu Ming cried out heart-wrenchingly, but the old man had closed his eyes forever and could no longer hear his call.

Wu Ming threw himself on his grandfather and burst into tears. He could not accept the fact that his grandfather had left him like this.

His heart was filled with endless grief and regret. He hated himself for not accompanying his grandfather well, hated himself for not being able to let his grandfather see the glory of the Wu family, and for not being able to let his grandfather see his children and grandchildren grow up and have many children and grandchildren.

It was not until Wu Ming fainted from crying that his consciousness gradually became blurred, as if he was overwhelmed by endless sorrow.

After an unknown amount of time, he slowly opened his eyes, only to find that his heart was still entangled in a deep sorrow, as if the pain had been deeply imprinted in the depths of his soul.

How could this happen? How could Grandpa pass away so suddenly? Wu Ming's heart was filled with disbelief and pain.

Grandpa is a cultivator at the Foundation Establishment stage. According to common sense, he should be able to live to over two hundred years old.

Moreover, why was he the only one here and why was Grandpa Wang not there?

As Wu Ming gradually woke up from his grief, questions flooded his mind like a tide.

"No, there must be something wrong here. I seem to have forgotten something important in my mind."

He muttered to himself, his brows furrowed tightly.

Suddenly, a flash of inspiration flashed through Wu Ming's mind. He seemed to have grasped some key clue and murmured:

"By the way, Grandpa is a cultivator at the Foundation Establishment stage, how could he die so easily?

Moreover, how could the idea of ​​carrying on the family line and having many children and grandchildren even occur to me?"

At this moment, Wu Ming's mind was suddenly struck by lightning, and he suddenly realized:

"It's fake, all of this is fake! Yes, I'm practicing the Nine Yang Heavenly Scripture!"

As Wu Ming came to his senses, tiny cracks began to appear on the entire screen, like a mirror.

These cracks spread rapidly, and eventually the mirror completely shattered into countless pieces, then disappeared in a dazzling light.

And Wu Tianlong and Wu Ming in the mirror also turned into nothingness at this moment.

.........

"Liu Qingquan, you have come to this day!

Thinking back to those days, you were so majestic and treated me like grass, as if I was just an insignificant ant that you could manipulate at will.

Now things have changed. Did you ever imagine that you would end up like this?"

On the ring, the plain-looking young man in a white shirt stood there with a smug look on his face. He stepped on a middle-aged man who was also in a white shirt, and laughed at him condescendingly.

The middle-aged man was in a very miserable condition at this time. He was covered in blood, and his originally pale face became a little distorted because of anger.

However, despite being seriously injured, the anger in the corners of his eyes and the viciousness in the corners of his mouth showed that he was not powerless to fight back.

However, in front of him, a flying sword flashing with cold light was aimed straight at his chest. If he moved even slightly, the flying sword would mercilessly pierce his heart and kill him.

"You little bastard, if you have the guts, just kill me! What's the point of just standing here barking like a dog?"

The middle-aged man stared at the young man, the hatred in his eyes almost bursting out.

Although his voice sounded a little weak due to injury, the contempt and disdain in it were obvious.

The young man's anger intensified when he heard the middle-aged man's words. He really wanted to swing his flying sword and give this ignorant guy a quick death.

However, when the corner of his eye swept over a deacon beside the ring, as well as those fellow disciples and sect elders who were watching the fight outside the ring, he forcibly suppressed the urge.

After all, he couldn't kill people so wantonly in front of so many people in the sect, otherwise it would probably bring him into huge trouble.

In desperation, the young man could only vent his anger on the middle-aged man under his feet. He stepped hard on him several times, as if this could slightly ease his anger.

"Cough cough..."

Accompanied by a violent cough, the middle-aged man at his feet suddenly seemed to be hit by an invisible force. His body trembled violently, and his originally endless words were instantly interrupted.

He covered his chest in pain, and a mouthful of blood spurted out like an arrow, splashing onto the ground, forming a shocking pool of blood.

However, surprisingly, after the blood spurted out, the middle-aged man's chest seemed to feel a little better.

He raised his head with difficulty, staring at the young man in front of him with eyes full of resentment and unwillingness, and said with gritted teeth:

"Wu Ming, I indeed underestimated you. If I had known this would happen, I would have disregarded the sect's rules and personally eradicated this scourge of yours!"

Wu Ming raised the corners of his mouth slightly, revealing a contemptuous smile, and responded, "Haha, if I had known this would happen, why did I do it in the first place? It's a pity that it's too late to regret now.

"If you want to blame someone, blame yourself for being my enemy just for your good-for-nothing brother. Anyone who goes against me, Wu Ming, will end up dead!"

His voice was cold and decisive, as if sentencing the middle-aged man to death.

The atmosphere in the field suddenly became solemn, and everyone held their breath, watching this thrilling confrontation.

At this moment, a majestic voice suddenly came, breaking the deadlock on the field: "Okay, Wu Ming, since Liu Qingquan has no ability to resist, why don't you let him go?"

The person who spoke was the red-robed deacon who served as the referee in the field.

After hearing this, Wu Ming was secretly angry. He stomped his feet hard, but pretended to be calm on the surface. He slowly loosened his feet and put the flying sword back into the scabbard.

At the same time, Wu Ming turned around, bowed respectfully to the deacon, and said, "Yes, disciple, I will let him go right away."

Liu Qingquan, the middle-aged man who was stepped on by Wu Ming, was finally able to stand up at this moment.

He was breathing heavily and struggling to straighten his clothes which were stained with blood and filth.

After he had tidied himself up a little, he also bowed to the deacon.

"The winner of this competition is Wu Ming. I hope he can keep up the good work and achieve even better results in the next competitions."

The deacon looked at Wu Ming, nodded with satisfaction, and then said to Liu Qingquan:

"Liu Qingquan, you don't have to be discouraged. Winning and losing are common on the road of cultivation. As long as you can learn from this failure and work harder in your cultivation, I believe that one day you will be able to defeat your opponent."

When Wu Ming heard the referee's decision, a proud smile immediately appeared on his face. He felt that his strength was recognized and he felt particularly happy.