Chapter 925 - 649: Grand Feather Immortal Master
A Dong Tribe.
The stone walls follow the contours of the mountain, rising unevenly; the entire wall consists of unpolished, coarse stones, with sharp edges.
The gate of the tribe is made from a section of an ancient tree trunk, entwined with layers of old vines, tightly wrapping the entire massive log.
Inside the tribe courtyard, dozens of figures are gathered together.
Everyone is draped in worn-out and tattered animal skins.
On the surface of the skins, dried black blood scabs have formed, along with a thick, murky layer of soil, obscuring the original color of the fur.
The weapons in their hands are uniformly cast from bronze, with an ancient, heavy design, crudely made.
Short knives, war axes, long spears... all carry the wildness of a primitive era.
This group of Dong People are all burly, with dark, cracked skin, and their cheeks bear the unique simple markings of a primitive tribe.
They gather together, discussing in low voices, their hoarse tones plotting something unknown, a tense atmosphere lingering.
Meanwhile, beyond the dimension.
𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢
Chen Sheng’s gaze quietly falls upon this place, observing the environment and secretly evaluating in his heart:
"Primitive, primal!!"
"Draped in animal skins, bronze weapons; it’s undoubtedly a primitive, uncivilized world."
"Where is the him of me in this dimension?"
A thought arises, and a sense originating from the source instantly unfolds.
No need for intense searching; in just a moment, the position is locked.
It is a coarse wooden cage.
Inside the cage are several naked savages, barely covering their private parts with a few large leaves.
In the center of the group, one figure stands out particularly; he is a whole head taller than the surrounding savages, with a scar across his brow, slashing from the forehead to the temple, adding a bit of ferocity and menace.
As Chen Sheng’s sight touches this person.
A connection from the same source, a kinship bond, slowly rises from Chen Sheng’s heart.
No need for verification.
This is the him of me in this dimension.
Chen Sheng pondered to himself:
"Comparing him to a savage, it seems that the people outside the Dong Tribe are actually the civilized ones."
"It seems he is caught and held in a cage, maybe enslaved?"
Soon.
His speculation is instantly confirmed.
A rough, fierce shout burst forth, a long whip whistling through the air, cracking loudly.
Over a dozen Dong People wield their whips, driving the savages in the cage forward.
The group is escorted, forced all the way to a broad area filled with towering stones.
Chen Sheng’s gaze swept over, initially stunned.
"A quarry?"
Then he saw the full scene, his expression slightly tense.
"No... it’s an iron smelting workshop."
Further away.
Rows of iron smelting furnaces stand on the ground; countless mined ores are continuously fed into the furnaces for burning.
The furnace towered, its structure orderly, a stark contrast to the surrounding primitive environment.
Faint flames flicker, smoke rises, carrying an aura beyond its era.
Chen Sheng’s heart is filled with doubts:
"In such a primitive, uncivilized realm, where bronze is still used, how is there such a mature method of iron smelting?"
However, constrained by the him of me, his vision is limited, unable to explore far, unable to understand the local language or comprehend the situation.
Only able to observe in silence.
Nonetheless.
In his heart, Chen Sheng feels a hint of anticipation.
"Now he is trapped in a dire situation, enslaved, with no way to survive."
"When he falls into extreme despair, I can seize the opportunity to possess him, fulfilling his life’s obsession, smoothly consolidating him of me."
Time flows slowly.
But the desperate crisis Chen Sheng anticipated never came.
Night falls.
Inside the stone cave that holds the savages, only straw covers the ground.
The savages sit together in a group, gnawing on coarse animal bones, swallowing rough-tasting food.
After filling their bellies, they lie down to rest, their expressions relaxed, even showing some stability.
And the him with a scar on his brow surprisingly shows no trace of humiliation or resentment, instead exuding a sense of contentment and enjoyment.
The other savages also share similar expressions.
Chen Sheng helplessly shakes his head gently:
"Compared to days of wandering aimlessly, living off raw meat and blood, facing daily uncertainties in the savage life."
"Being a slave now, with food to fill the belly, a place to reside, without facing ferocious beasts in the forest, is already a blessing for them."
"These Dong People, although fierce and wild, still cherish their labor assets, driving them to work but never tormenting them."
"In this life, he of me is born too low, with narrow vision, easily satisfied disposition."
"Such a complacent numbness, without crisis, without burning desires, would greatly hinder my consolidation of him of me."
...
The next morning.
The sharp sound of the whip suddenly explodes.
A overseer clad in animal skins enters, shouting sternly:
"Get up! Work!"
After this period of observation and concealment, Chen Sheng already understands the language here.
His gaze tightly follows him of me, stepping once more into that iron smelting area.
"This is?"
This time, Chen Sheng quickly notices a difference.
He sees the leader of the Dong Tribe leading a group of people, standing respectfully aside, everyone bowing their heads, showing awe.
And in the center of the crowd stands an exceptionally conspicuous figure.
That man wears a simple green Daoist robe, his hair tied in a bun, his robes orderly, exuding the air of a Cultivator.
In this barren land, he stands out conspicuously from the surrounding environment.
The Dong Tribe leader steps forward quickly, bowing low, speaking respectfully:
"Envoy."
The Cultivator in Green Robes steps forward, bending down to examine the refined iron just forged.
The furnace mouth steaming gently, a pile of glowing red refined iron lies beside the furnace, still emanating scorching heat.
He nods lightly and speaks calmly:
"Not bad!"
Then he takes out a palm-sized cloth bag.
With a gentle flick of the bag, a pale blue stream of light emerges, enveloping the entire pile of refined iron.
Then, the half-human-tall pile of iron slowly shrinks, contracts, its size diminishing inch by inch, finally transforming into a ball of flowing light, floating into the bag, vanishing entirely.
The surrounding Dong People’s pupils contract sharply, faces full of shock, gasping.
The Dong Tribe leader becomes increasingly respectful witnessing this scene.
The Cultivator in Green Robes remains expressionless, calmly speaking.
"Umu’er, you’ve done well."
"The Great Feather Immortal Master will bestow your tribe with more food supplies, cloth, and garments."
"In the future, Immortal Arts will also be imparted, safeguarding the tribe’s generations."
The leader rejoices, quickly bowing, repeatedly expressing gratitude.
The Cultivator in Green Robes nods slightly, his robes fluttering, a white cloud gathers under his feet, gently lifting him as he ascends.
In a flash, he breaks through the sky, disappearing into the horizon.
The entire group of Dong People fervently kneels, constantly worshipping toward the direction where the Daoist departed, uttering reverent chants.
Observing this scene, Chen Sheng felt a surge of realization, all previous doubts instantly cleared.
"Immortal Master? This is the Cultivator of this dimension."
...
Days pass one after another.
Chen Sheng watches the life of a slave lived by him of me, gathering various scattered pieces of information.
He finally pieces together the structure of this region.
That Great Feather Immortal Master has astonishingly rooted in this primitive land, establishing a sect, building a foundation, with all surrounding Dong Tribes, wilderness people under his rule.
Chen Sheng gazes intensely at this barren land, a sense of interest brewing in his heart:
"Came to the wild region for an enterprise?"
"Nowadays, in a thousand-mile radius, three thousand Dong Tribes, with millions of Dong People, all under the jurisdiction of this Immortal Master."
"Cultivators of this world are indeed distinctive, rooted in the wilderness, civilizing tribes, mingling deeply with ordinary people."