170 The Seventh Stronghold (1/2)

At present, a swamp of ferocious beasts, their flying forms illuminated by lightning, approached rapidly. The Numinous Treasures outside the stronghold retaliated swiftly before the beasts could draw near. With a terrifying roar, the sharp spears and cannons let loose a blast of light, slaughtering the creatures without mercy.

The flying lightning beasts stood no chance of escape. Their deaths were instant. The cries that they released before their deaths could shake one to their core.

However, to the countless soldiers in the stronghold bustling around with their affairs, this was but the daily course of affairs—nothing that they were not accustomed to.

There lay one of the primary strongholds guarding the Federation, also known as the Seventh Imperial Gate!

Seven primary strongholds spread across the entire Federation. Within each area that fell under the protection and command of a primary stronghold were hundreds of smaller, minor strongholds.

The military stationed all year round in the strongholds exterminated all beasts that ventured near and defended against minor Beast Tides that occurred from time to time.

At every primary stronghold, a general stood watch and held the fort. The general was responsible for and directed the mission of hundreds of minor strongholds within the primary stronghold's sphere of influence—the mission of defending against the beasts.

At this precise moment, within the Seventh Imperial Gate, General Zhou, who first made his appearance at the Combat Pavilion Tournament alongside Zhou Lu, stood on a tower. He had his hands behind his back, his gaze set upon the wild jungles in the distance. He stood like this for a long time, and a tinge of concern colored his eyes.

”The Federation predicted that the upcoming Beast Tide will take place on a small scale… so why can't I rid myself of the nagging sense of worry that has been plaguing me for the past few days?” General Zhou frowned and muttered to himself. Then, he barked out an order.

”Contact the four Dao Colleges. The numbers joining our party this year are to be increased!”

General Zhou's orders were sent without delay to the four Dao Colleges. Similar requests from other strongholds arrived at the same time.

While the colleges went about their preparations, Wang Baole ended his examination of the mosquitoes in a great mood. He was humming a tune softly while strolling back to his cave abode. It was when he saw his cave abode in the distance that it happened.

Suddenly, a rope flew out of nowhere and flung itself—not at Wang Baole—at the huge tree beside him. As soon as it wrapped itself around the tree trunk, it tightened into a strangle.

”Who's there!” Wang Baole's eyes brightened in a flash. His body surged a step forward in an instant, and with a swift wave of his hand, nine mosquitoes appeared. A glove appeared around his right hand; faint strands of mist wove themselves around his left hand. He stared warily in the direction that the rope had come from.

He stared for a very long while and could stop doubts from surfacing. There did not seem to be anything out of place. Stunned, he turned and looked at the rope that had the tree in a chokehold. It was a common item that often turned up among Dharmic Artifacts on Upper Academy Island. Recognition escaped Wang Baole at first. After repeated looks, his eyes suddenly widened.

”Could it be that?”

Wang Baole stepped forward for a closer examination. He could feel his own seal within the rope, and his eyes narrowed.

”It really is…” There was a look of disbelief on Wang Baole's face. This was the rope that he had refined with Armament Sand a few months ago, the one that had flown into the sky and disappeared without a trace as soon as he had flung it out!

Wang Baole had almost forgotten it. Who could have expected that it would make its way back a few months later?

There's something seriously wrong with this rope… Wang Baole sighed and retrieved the rope. He intended to take a closer look at it when he was back, to see if there was any possibility for modification.

If there was not, this rope would just be trash. For something that, after being thrown at the enemy, would rise into the sky and disappear, only to reappear a few months later—anything that it could do then would be too little, too late.

Not to mention where the rope had actually gone those few months… it was something that defied Wang Baole's imagination.

As he immersed himself in thought, Wang Baole placed the rope in his storage bag and returned to his cave abode. He immediately marched over to the smelting furnace. After hours of study, he finally stepped out. He let loose a deep sigh of exasperation. The rope was an unsolvable puzzle.

Under his close examination, he had found that the inscriptions carved within the rope had been completely transformed. The inscriptions clustered together like the messy, overlapping lines of a cypher, thwarting his attempt at analyzing them.

There was nothing to do but store the rope and come back to it again when he was more well-versed in Dharmic Armaments.

Let's not care about the rope now. Now that I've achieved the basic requirements of becoming an Armament Soldier, the next step is… to familiarize myself with the refinement of third-grade Numinous Treasures as well as to prepare the Numinous Treasure for the advancement assessment!