As the twelfth hour approached, Cheng Hao and the Wangs were engrossed in their conversation. On the side, Xiao Wu would occasionally listen in on their discussions, testing her own knowledge against that of pinnacle experts. As expected, the tier of the strategies and tactics thought up was so high, more often than not she would be at a loss: at times she would make a judgment and think up a way to tackle the sturdy formations, only to find the others not only had already come up with it long ago, but that it had also been discarded as mediocre.

As time went on, she found herself more and more mesmerized and shocked by the knowledge of both sides when it came to the art of war. Even though they were only looking at pieces of paper and ink dots, it was as if they were heavenly generals with a bird’s eye view of a battlefield, with a clear grasp of its every nook and cranny. As a matter of fact, that wouldn’t be entirely wrong: Wang Lu could be described as the highest tier of strategist and tactician that Xiao Wu had ever met. Her manipulation of the armies present, both hers and her opponent’s, made it look as if she were a prophet that could peer into the future, or even an historian recounting a battle that had happened long ago. Her knowledge of schemes and stratagems to gain the upper hand in any situation appeared endless as a seemingly insignificant move of hers could show its usefulness hundreds of moves later on into the clash.

This way of controlling both the opponent and the self through countless premeditated stratagems turned the battlefield into a garden and the commander into its gardener, planting seeds of opportunities, guiding the sapling as they grew up and ultimately making them bloom into victory.

In Cheng Hao’s past life, those generals who undertook this path were referred to as Divine Gardeners and were the highest tier of generals that there could be. Even in the course of his long journey and countless battles, the Evil Saint had only ever met a few dozen of such existences among trillions, which only served to show how much effort, talent, insight and experience was needed to reach the peak level of war.

It had surprised the golden-eyed youth to no small degree that Wang Lu had actually reached such a level, as the defeats he had suffered at the hands of those high and mighty Divine Gardeners of the Nine Heavens were not little in number.

However, the one that had given him the greatest shock had undoubtedly been Fuyin.

Just as there were Gardeners that would tend to the garden of the battlefield and make it grow according to their will, there would be other less mainstream paths to undertake. While Wang Lu had reached the peak of all Gardeners, Fuyin was taking his first few steps in the road of a Tamperer.

The ability to figure out tactics and the way they flowed into the big picture with a single, rapid sweep of the battlefield, to discern deceit and bluffs from weaknesses with a carefree glance, to break even the most foolproof arrays with simple positioning… this path sought to use others’ military knowledge against them, occupying key positions to endlessly poke at the enemy’s strategy until they eventually collapsed from within and lost any semblance of organization. It was, undoubtedly, the best way for the few to battle the many, especially if the few were also disadvantaged when it came to the average fighting strength of their members. It was a way to throw the battlefield into chaos, allowing guerrilla warfare to ensue.

Cheng Hao couldn’t be any more familiar with this route, for Xu Ling had been once renowned as the most formidable commander of his time exactly because he had followed the Tamperer path to its end and had used it to sweep through all opposition. The reason this path was left unused for so long was that it required one to personally stand in the battlefield and lead, in the very first line of offense, bearing the clashes and leading his fellow companions with one’s life on the line.

The risks of this don’t need explaining. And even if one didn’t die, they’d have to split their attention between surviving and fighting during battle, and between studying the art of war deeply and increasing their cultivation to survive the battlefield outside of battle.

Who else other than Xu Ling, who was gifted with pinnacle talent ever since he first sensed the Qi, had managed to create peerless cultivation methods thanks to the knowledge acquired in the Tower of Babel, and could even substitute sleep with cultivation, would find enough time everyday to both meditate and study formations and tactics? Who else other than that unkillable demon could guide an army as the very first foot soldier to clash with the enemy ranks?

As it turned out, a second method to achieve success as a Tamperer, other than being as outrageously blessed as Xu Ling, actually existed… and it was none other than the mutated Gate of the Underworld Sensed Qi; Trial of the Gate! With this Qi that even the previously infallible Tower of Babel hadn’t recorded, one’s achievements in cultivation would follow one’s attainments as a general! And as expected of the shrewd Wang Lu, she hadn’t hesitated to make Fuyin follow exactly that path: although it wouldn’t be as straightforward and safe as the path of a Gardener, it would wield even better benefits later on.

And even if his attainments as a general were still laughable when placed in front of the Nine Heavens’ Divine Gardeners or Wang Lu’s even more superior grasp as a Gardener, it needed to be mentioned that he was still merely fifteen years old!

At his age, Xu Ling had yet to sense the Qi, let alone study the way cultivators fought! At the time, his farthest attainments in the art of war had been average tier when it came to clashes amongst mortals.

As Fuyin pointed and painted he would offer plenty of details and Cheng Hao would carefully listen silently, occasionally raising a question or two. Eventually, the child’s golden eyes would light up with understanding and satisfaction, and would come up with unorthodox solutions. At last, after illustrating his ideas, they would discuss ways to improve it and ultimately incorporate the small aspects into coming up with a final solution.

Wang Lu and Cheng Hao’s approaches were completely different -with the former being used to cultivating countless stratagems into blooming flowers, and the latter to breaking those same arrangements apart and stealing the sapling as advantages for himself- but when it came to such small-scale scuffles at such laughable cultivation levels, they only needed to spend little to no effort before their methods easily fused together into infallible strategies.

However, as this happened, they would not reveal the solution completely and would rather only offer subtle hints for the inexperienced Fuyin to pick and piece together by himself. After all, the fastest and most efficient way to teach was to have the learners come to the conclusion themselves. That way, the process would be deeply ingrained into their memory and would be malleable, adaptable to multiple situations and needs, like a vast tree spreading its branches endlessly.

It was still somewhat cheating, as they were leading the white-haired youth to the solution. If Fuyin didn’t pour efforts in his studies later on, it could even turn out being detrimental for his future advances. However, it was also much faster and more effective, as the fastest the groundwork was laid, the fastest Fuyin’s growth would happen, and the earlier he would have the chance to learn even better and more advanced tactics by himself, resulting in him being able to patch up his shortcomings on his own. Cheng Hao and Wang Lu’s method at the moment was similar to rolling a snowball down a hill, and the earlier they let go of it, the sooner it would grow explosively.

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As for why Wang Lu hadn’t seemed to employ this method earlier…

Although it didn’t seem like it, she already had. Or at least, she had tried.

Just that, Wang Lu wasn’t nearly as good as Cheng Hao when it came to teaching, and like so, in fear of hampering Fuyin’s future prospects, she could only take it slow.

Xu Ling had once been the teacher of whole army and their younglings, and the younglings of those younglings, of respectable elders and naïve youths. He could easily guide his students as if he were the bright light at the end of the tunnel: the other would only have to follow the piercing light to come out of the darkness.

At the same time, it was lucky that Wang Lu was present. This was because Cheng Hao’s methods to help Wang Fuyin would soon run out if he only relied on his attainments in the Tamperer path to help the other face off in the ‘bottleneck formations’ present in the Trial of the Gate battlefield. Even as they discussed Basic-Stage tier fights, he had been forced to dig into his memories and forcefully bring his own attainments of the Gardener path to an acceptable level, incorporating his two attainments together for what could only be described as a passable performance.

After all, a Tamperer needed to be in the battle himself to influence its flow from within. Even though he could somewhat make do if he had all the information regarding the positioning and strength of Fuyin’s enemies in advance, it wouldn’t be nearly as effective as a Gardener with attainments that were much lower than his were as a Tamperer, as the flow battlefield could only be simulated to a certain point, and if it were to deviate even slightly from expectations, tampering with it would fail.

Wang Lu perfectly helped in filling up this particular shortcoming, and like so it only took the two of them a few hours to guide Fuyin through his most problematic bottlenecks.

If they had wished to, of course, they could have directly cleared them in a matter of minutes.

At the end of it all, Cheng Hao and Wang Fuyin were both wearing bright smiles on their faces. Even in the latter’s sea of consciousness, a hazy female figure was smiling.

“…and finally, these last few formations will be your homework for the night. They can all be tackled through the usage of the methods you have learnt tonight, so it shouldn’t take too long at all to figure them out as you go.” The golden-eyed youth exclaimed with a satisfied sigh. “That was fun! As long as you don’t screw yourself over for some reason, you should officially be able to break through to Advanced Stage tomorrow! I’ll go rest myself, I shouldn’t neglect my own cultivation either tonight.”

“Mm, have a good session.” Fuyin nodded and sported a wide grin. “As for the ‘homework’, I’ll figure them out in the first few hours of the Trial’s available time, and after that I will make my move and finish it all in one sweep. I should still have some time to spare in the closed-off space after that, and I’ll be sure to spend it reviewing everything I’ve learnt today and ingraining it into my mind.”

Indeed! This was another incomparable advantage of the Wang Clan’s main bloodline that sensed the Trial of the Gate Qi: a separate dimension where time flew twenty-four times slower compared to the rest of existence!

One time, Lu had once referred to the main bloodline of the Wang as members of a Dinasty “whose speed of growth exceeds any other’s”.

That had been by no means an exaggeration, as the Wangs would experience nearly twice the hours in a day compared to all other beings in existence. Although there were methods to stretch time and space, they were not easy to come by or use. And again, even then who was to say that a Wang couldn’t get their hands on those also? By default, if all had the same treasures and methods, a Wang clansman would still have that extra twice the time to dedicate to cultivation and practice that no other species or clan would ever be able to sport.

To have basically double the experience of any other living being at the same age, and spending that extra time on the battlefield every day from the day they first Sensed the Qi…

“A clan born to rule the world,” had been Fuyin’s proud statement. Well, if anything, they were indeed predestined to have a tight grasp the battlefield from the moment they awoke as cultivators. Even the lowest tier of talent would experience massive growth after such a rough tempering and so many favorable conditions.

The way it looked, Wang Clan, and in particular the main Wang lineage, were indeed named King for a reason. But then again, wasn’t his own Qi named Sovereign as well, an aloof ruler that could imitate and surpass everyone else? If he could have that extra time and used the path of a general to cultivate, then-

“Bzzz, wrong answer.” Cheng Hao stretched as he quickly dispelled those thoughts from his mind. He sighed, as it looked like even he had yet to become impervious to greed when it came to power. In fact, after his powerless struggle and ultimate demise met at the hands of Tian, he had come to crave strength even more.

However, it wasn’t like he could just go ahead and use the Trial of the Gate by just thinking about it. According to his deduction during his talks with Lu and Fuyin, the secret to the Trial laid in the Ancestral Blood in their bodies, which contain the legacy of a late expert of the Wang Clan. At that time, that unknown senior had used some heavenly methods to create the Trial of the Gate parallel space and connected it to his bloodline: even after his death, his legacy and mighty Wang Protectors he created would be able to help his descendants avoid peril and be worthy of the surname Wang!

In short, if he ever wished to possess the unique Sensed Qi…

He’d have to somehow possess the bloodline of Wang!

There were many methods, and it wouldn’t be too difficult to do so, especially with one specimen at hand. However, he had already decided the path he would follow this time around would be different.

In the past, the Evil Saint had been a juggernaut of the battlefield mostly thanks to his absorbing techniques that could enhance his strength limitlessly the stronger and the more his enemies were, syphoning more and more of his opponents’ energy the longer they fought. This was the main reason he had come to wear the mantle of a commander: because he could abuse the weakening effect to stomp on armies, even if he had comrades that had lower might than that of the cultivators belonging to the other side. Over time, not only that gap would close, but he would eventually become more powerful than any other person on the battlefield.

Add that onto his pseudo-immortality, and he had eventually turned into the ‘fake’ juggernaut that had been toyed around like a child by the truly mighty Tian.

This time around however, he had chosen the path of a ‘true’ juggernaut! And although the Wang’s Trial of the Gate would be a rapid way to increase his own cultivation through unorthodox methods -ones that did not require Cores, Satellites and the such, but merely mastery of the art of war, and time- he would not renege his current path! Just as he had followed the one of a ‘fake’ juggernaut to its untimely end without hesitation, he would do the same with this one!

Because he believed in himself, now more than ever. And for some reason, despite the threat of death never having been as close before now that he could also die, he felt much at ease, a feeling that came from deep within.

Although Cheng Hao had yet to realize, this feeling was that of having truly found himself and his own road. He now wholeheartedly believed that he would achieve it. And as such, even the world could do nothing but watch on powerlessly as it let him forcefully carve his own path into it.

With his eyes brightly lit with a golden gleam even while half-opened, Cheng Hao sat crossed-legged atop his bed. As he breathed rhythmically, he entered his consciousness and slowly scoured his memories for methods to increase the rate of his Spiritual Energy absorption. On the bedside table lay a scarf whose hexagonal patterns would occasionally flicker from the moonlight. On the other side of the wide bedroom, Xiao Wu and Wang Fuyin lay on her own bed and the floor respectively, fast asleep.

As today approached tomorrow, the Mysterious Light-Shadow Sect’s millions of Vacant Sect Disciples went to bed and fell asleep while listening to the summer song of the crickets and cicadas.

And at this time, the twelfth bell rang out.

It was midnight.