Chapter 264 completes the "ancient background" for the cultivation civilization.

As the crisp cracking sound of the Golden Summit of Mount Emei traveled through the earth's veins, it was as if an invisible hand had suddenly pressed a switch that had been sealed for eternity.

Less than fifteen minutes after the anomaly occurred, the Green Zone Kyoto Alliance Supreme Academy of Sciences had already descended into an unprecedented frenzy.

"Satellite orbit change! All reconnaissance satellites, mobilize them all!"

Professor Wang Mingyuan's eyes were bloodshot as he stood in the central intelligence room, his voice almost hoarse from shouting, "It's not just Emei! Deep in Shennongjia, on the outskirts of the Kunlun Mountains, and even in the western Alps and beneath the Amazon rainforest, towering pillars of spiritual energy have appeared! These peak spiritual pressures have all exceeded our set detection limits for the Golden Core stage!"

As he finished speaking, the entire central screen was quickly divided into dozens of monitoring screens. In each screen, a beam of light shot into the sky, carrying an indescribable sense of vast antiquity, as if a piece of history buried in the dust had suddenly awakened in this era.

Twelve military drones equipped with the highest level of radiation protection coating and psionic shields have been urgently deployed to the skies above the abyss, ready to conduct the first round of close-range reconnaissance of the ruins below.

However, humanity's current cutting-edge technology, which it can be proud of, is so fragile that it seems almost laughable in the face of that underground sword tomb.

The first nine drones had only descended to a position about 500 meters from the underground ruins, and before they could even transmit a complete live image, they were instantly shredded by the residual sword intent that had been swirling in the abyss for countless years.

There was no explosion, no resistance, not even a struggle.

The feeling was like a thin piece of paper falling into an invisible net of blades, instantly being sliced ​​into countless flying iron filings.

It wasn't until the tenth drone, in its final moments before crashing, activated its ultra-long-range high-definition telephoto lens, that it managed to capture a blurry, shaky, yet powerfully impactful image that silenced the entire world.

A vast underground ruin.

A broken bronze pillar with a coiled dragon design.

Thousands upon thousands of broken flying swords are stuck upside down among cliffs, cracks and ruins, their blades stained with dried and blackened blood, like a cemetery left over from an ancient battlefield to this day.

And in the very center of the square, there stands a hundred-foot-tall black stone sword monument, half of which has been cut away, yet it still stands majestically like a mountain.

The ancient seal script on the stele is solemn, with only three characters engraved on it.

【Shushan Sect】.

"Zoom in...zoom in on all the patterns and text on the back of the sword monument!"

The military commander gripped the back of his chair tightly, veins bulging on the back of his hands, his voice low and deep.

The image was immediately sent to the supercomputing center, and after layers of noise reduction, frame interpolation, and model restoration, it gradually became clearer.

The next moment, the magnificent mural carved by Gu Qing himself, along with the ancient text that exuded murderous intent and endless despair, was presented abruptly and realistically to the highest level of power in human civilization.

[A celestial calamity has descended, and we sword cultivators must fight to the death to repel it. One hundred thousand disciples of Mount Shu perished here, severing the earth's veins and sealing the mountain to suppress the demon! If future generations succeed to this formation, they shall wield my broken sword and once again battle the stars!]

The moment the text was deciphered word by word, the entire CIA room fell into complete silence.

In the vast hall, no one spoke again; only suppressed, heavy breathing echoed around.

"We...we've been guessing the wrong cause of death all along."

A chief historian who had participated in the Kunlun mummified corpse autopsy project suddenly slumped into a chair as if all his strength had been drained away.

"When we brought out that mummified corpse from Kunlun, our conclusion was that 'the connection between heaven and earth was severed, and the spiritual energy was cut off.' We always thought that the destruction of the ancient cultivation civilization was due to the natural depletion of the Earth's spiritual energy, or that the ancient cultivators fought each other for resources and eventually perished together."

As he spoke, he suddenly raised his hand and pointed to the mural on the screen, his fingers trembling so badly they were almost unrecognizable, and his voice became extremely hoarse:

"That's not true at all! Look—look at this painting!"

"They didn't die from internal strife, nor from fate. They united all the forces of the Earth to wage war against something from beyond the heavens!"

"That withered corpse sitting atop Mount Kunlun is not some ancient cultivator who died of old age. It is the last gatekeeper! To protect this planet, he forcibly severed the earth's veins and locked the Earth's coordinates before his death, dragging the entire world into the long era of Dharma decline!"

As soon as these words were spoken, all the high-ranking officials of the powerful families, military commanders, and academic giants in the intelligence room felt a chill run down their spines and up to their scalps.

It's not because of fear of some unknown enemy.

Rather, it's because this line of reasoning is simply too rigorous.

So meticulously crafted that it's impossible to refute.

The Kunlun mummy unearthed ten years ago, the Shushan Sword Stele that has reappeared today, and the Desert War God Temple and the East Sea Crystal Palace ruins that were restored at almost the same time—all of this seems to have been pieced together into a complete historical line by an unseen hand after a long period of time.

Why did all the ancient powerful beings disappear?

Why has Earth experienced such a long period of decline?

Why did the spiritual energy, which had been dormant for countless years, suddenly revive in just ten years?

The answer seemed as clear as it could be.

Because the seal laid down by those ancient martyrs with their lives is gradually loosening as time goes by.

Because the great calamity in the starry sky that once shattered the backbone of the entire ancient cultivation civilization is approaching little by little, preparing to make a comeback.

A mural and an ancient phrase that Gu Qing casually carved filled in the most missing and fatal piece of background in the entire cyber cultivation era with remarkable precision.

From this moment on, all the scattered myths and legends, all the contradictory historical fragments, and all the speculations about the reasons for the demise of ancient civilizations were forcibly twisted into a single rope.

Moreover, it is the kind that is easiest to believe, easiest to get excited about, and easiest to evoke fear.

At the same time, this news, which was enough to overturn the understanding of the entire era, was no longer forcibly blocked by any powerful faction.

Accompanied by those pillars of light from the ruins shooting into the sky, it swept across the entire wasteland world like a hurricane that engulfed the heavens and the earth.

Yellow District, Bloodstone Town, Headquarters of the Casual Players Alliance.

In front of the simple yet enormous holographic projection screen, a dense crowd of low-level hunters had already gathered. The black market was usually noisy and bustling, but at this moment, it was as quiet as a graveyard.

Everyone was watching the footage of the Shushan Sword Tomb that had been intercepted and repeatedly played.

No one speaks.

Only heavy breathing rose and fell suppressedly in the crowd.

Old Ding stood at the front of the crowd, his eyes fixed on the broken yet unyielding flying swords in the screen. Some of the swords were half broken, some were rusted, and some were even just half a blade, but they still possessed an indescribable sharpness and arrogance, as if they would not bow their heads even if they fought to the last moment.

Old Ding subconsciously looked down at the rough, ugly scales on his arm, which bore the marks of mutation.

That was the price he paid for surviving all these years.

It was also the most common medal among the lower-level monks of this era.

But at this very moment, for the first time, he felt that this thing was somewhat dazzling.

An indescribable shame surged up from the depths of his chest, mingling with the burning sensation of blood, making his throat dry.

"What we're practicing now... does this even deserve to be called cultivating immortality?"

Finally, a young hunter looked at the screen, his eyes red, and spoke in a low voice.

His voice wasn't loud, but it was like a needle that pierced everyone's heart instantly.

"Putting ourselves in cybernetic bodies, drinking the blood of demonic beasts, altering our bones and meridians, scavenging for resources in the mud like wild dogs... what's the difference between us and beggars picking up trash all this time?"

"But beneath our feet, in the era when our ancestors lived, they could fly through the sky on swords and fight desperately against things from beyond the heavens."

"That's what cultivating immortality is all about."

After he said that, no one in the black market responded.

But that silence carries more weight than any clamor.

Because this is not just the sentiment of that one young hunter.

This is the shared shock felt by all the casual observers in the Yellow Zone at this moment.

When ancient myths are no longer just legends, but are forcibly unearthed from the ground and presented to everyone in a bloody, cruel, and almost real way, people suddenly realize that the "cyber cultivation" they have been so proud of all these years, and even risked their lives to protect, is nothing more than an embarrassing and pathetic defective product in the face of the truly all-powerful power of their ancient ancestors.

A deformed product that barely survives by patching up ruins.

But precisely because of this, the words engraved on the sword monument are even more like a blazing fire.

[If future generations succeed to this formation, they shall wield my broken sword and once again battle the stars!]

This statement leaves no room for retreat.

Yet, it also ignited the deepest resentment, the madness, and the fighting spirit that had been worn down by the wasteland in everyone's hearts.

Above the nine heavens, the Heavenly Palace atop the clouds.

Gu Qing stood quietly on the cloud, looking down at the rapidly boiling earth below.

He didn't look at the Trust panel in the system again.

Because it's no longer needed.

He could clearly feel that a torrent of faith, completely different from the past, was rushing towards Kunlun from all directions.

It is no longer just fear, numbness, and dependence driven by the survival instinct.

There is more heaviness, more tragedy, more reverence for ancient ancestors, and also a kind of almost religious fanaticism in it.

A kind of fanaticism that says, "Even if you know you'll die, you still have to go for it."

Gu Qing watched all this calmly, but a faint hint of satisfaction flickered in her eyes.

"If you're fighting just to survive, that's called struggling."

"But if we make them believe that they are the inheritors of an ancient tradition, fighting to resist the cosmic calamity and to continue the flame of civilization—that would be a different story."

"That's called a holy war."

He spoke so softly that his voice was almost carried away by the wind.

But that faint chill was clearer than anything else.

The backdrop has been completed.

Under the shadow of this "ancient enemy" he himself created, the subsequent exploration of dozens of ruins around the world will no longer be as simple as low-level cultivators killing each other for resources.

From now on, every struggle, every battle, every gamble into the depths of the ruins will be given a higher and more resounding meaning.

It wasn't about seizing a magical artifact, nor was it about vying for a martial arts technique.

Rather, it is to compete for the right to survive, rise to the top, and even represent this era in the great cosmic catastrophe of the future.

Sure enough, within half a day of the multiple strange phenomena erupting, the entire world had completely come to a standstill.

The Green Zone Supreme Council and the Hunter's Guild issued the highest-level mobilization order almost simultaneously.

Heavy armed shuttles rose from the skies above the major fortified cities, their trails of flame forming vast rivers of fire that blotted out the sky as they hurtled towards the famous mountains and rivers where strange phenomena had occurred.

On the ground, countless independent hunters equipped with pseudo-spiritual roots and driving modified off-road vehicles surged out of the wilderness, strongholds, black markets, and abandoned factories like wolves that had smelled blood, rushing towards the locations of the various ruins.

Even in the depths of the Ten Thousand Mountains and the Amazon rainforest, the deep, desolate sound of beast horns echoed one after another.

Enormous mutated beasts and squads of armored demon guards, led by demon kings who had awakened their intelligence, stepped out of the dense forest and crossed the mountains, their destination the same place of opportunity that exuded ancient pressure.

No one is willing to back down.

Since everyone is essentially a scavenger, whoever can grab what their ancestors truly left behind will have more chances of survival in the impending catastrophe.

Gu Qing looked down at the smooth, jade-like white chess piece in his palm.

Then, he gently placed it in the very center of the chessboard.

Snapped.

The sound was very soft.

But the whole world seemed to move along with this one move.

"Go rob, go kill."

Gu Qing gazed at the torrents rushing towards the ruins, his tone almost devoid of emotion.

"Only those who crawl out of piles of corpses, or those lucky ones favored by fate, deserve those resources."