Chapter 183: Unlucky Land

Ancient events have long faded with time, and the dust of history lies buried deep beneath the earth. This is the truest depiction of the Northern Region. Over the long years, the once vibrant land has grown desolate, and the races of old have vanished into the mists of history.

Today, the Northern Region is nothing but endless emptiness and desolation. As far as the eye can see, the vast land is barren, marked only by a monotonous reddish-brown hue.

A dozen riders galloped swiftly. Old Man Zhang’s village was two hundred li away, and at this pace, they could return before sundown.

Ye Fan, also on horseback, rode abreast of Old Man Zhang, earnestly inquiring about the various secrets concerning the 'source'.

A millennium ago, the *Source Heaven Book* was lost, causing many secret methods of channeling the source to vanish. Old Man Zhang expressed deep regret, sighing whenever the subject arose.

Ye Fan, too, felt a sense of disappointment. That was undoubtedly an extraordinary book, and he yearned to explore its depths. The techniques described within—locating source dragon veins and pinpointing unparalleled divine sources—were utterly astonishing. Mastering them would guarantee one a place as an honored guest of any Holy Land, proving the book’s immeasurable value. The dozen riders continued their journey, leaving trails of dust in their wake.

After more than an hour, the horses' pace began to slow. They had covered merely seventy or eighty li, a testament to their ordinary stamina rather than being fine steeds. "Giddy up!"

Suddenly, seven or eight riders appeared on the horizon. Moving with the speed of a whirlwind, they kicked up a massive cloud of dust, reaching them in the blink of an eye.

The mounts of these new arrivals were no ordinary horses. Each one was large, robust, and had glistening saddles. These were Dragon-Scaled Horses, resembling horses in form but covered in blue scales, capable of traveling four to five thousand li daily without tiring.

"Oh no, it's bandits!" The clever young man among their group, named Wang Shu, blanched. "Everyone, halt!" a dark-skinned middle-aged man roared.

The eight Dragon-Scaled Horses encircled them, blocking Ye Fan and his companions. The riders on their mounts all bellowed, "Hand over all the source you've gathered, or this spot will become your burial ground!"

Ye Fan finally experienced firsthand the perilous nature of this chaotic land. In broad daylight, bandits roamed freely, ready to kill and plunder at a moment's notice.

"Sir, we haven't collected a single grain of source today; we've found nothing," Wang Shu explained with a forced smile.

"Enough talk! You source gatherers never shed a tear until you see the coffin. Hand it over now, and we'll let you go. Otherwise, this day next year will be your memorial day," the black-faced middle-aged man in the center snapped.

"Sir, we truly have no findings. If you don't believe us, you are welcome to search us; we will not resist," Old Man Zhang said, cupping his hands. Ye Fan patted Old Man Zhang's shoulder, reassuring him, then scrutinized the bandits.

"Old man, get out of the way!" A bandit stepped forward, his gaze fixed on Ye Fan, sensing what seemed to be the aura of source emanating from him.

"Still claiming you have no source? This delicate-skinned young man certainly has plenty on him!" A bandit cracked his horsewhip, lashing it hard at Ye Fan, cursing, "How dare you lie in our presence!"

Ye Fan seized the horsewhip firmly and told Old Man Zhang and the others, "Go on ahead and wait for me."

"You brat, who do you think you are? A mere source gatherer acting so boldly?" The bandit glared around, asserting, "Let's see who dares to move! All of you wait here obediently!" *Thud!*

Ye Fan yanked the bandit from his Dragon-Scaled Horse but spared his life, as he had many questions for these outlaws. Witnessing this, Old Man Zhang and the others sped off into the distance without hesitation.

The leader of the bandits, accustomed to a life of plunder, instantly recognized the peril. He abandoned his Dragon-Scaled Horse, soaring skyward, attempting to flee.

"Still trying to escape?" Ye Fan flicked his fingers. Eight bursts of finger-wind, like eight hammers, struck their bodies, instantly sending all eight men tumbling to the ground.

The bandit leader, a mere Life Spring realm cultivator, was no match for Ye Fan. All the bandits turned pale, realizing they had met their downfall. "Are you truly bandits? The combined source on all of you doesn't even amount to half a jin!" Ye Fan said, quite displeased. "Tell me in detail: which bandit groups operate in this vicinity?"

A quarter of an hour later, Ye Fan, leading the eight Dragon-Scaled Horses, caught up with Old Man Zhang and his group. He asked, "Will bringing these Dragon-Scaled Horses back cause you any trouble?"

The dozen young men eyed the horses enviously, but Old Man Zhang shook his head. "Let them go. Only bandits can ride such beasts. If our village were to keep them, it would draw far too much attention."

"With bandits running rampant, don't the local sects intervene?" Ye Fan inquired.

"How can they? Bandits are like a plague of locusts; one group leaves, and another arrives. There's no way to control them."

"It's enough if they don't collude with them. I've heard that many sects actually support these bandits, secretly carrying out plunder."

Ye Fan further understood the chaos and bloodshed of the Northern Region; it was nothing short of a haven for crime.

"No wonder cultivators from other regions come to the Northern Region to seek adventure. It's a lawless land where anyone with sufficient power can become a local overlord."

Ye Fan felt this environment suited him well, as he wouldn't need to worry about obtaining source.

They finally completed the two hundred li journey just before sunset.

Ahead lay a village constructed from stone, comprising only a few dozen households, with a total population of just over two hundred people.

Upon their arrival, Ye Fan noticed the villagers' fierce demeanor; every man, woman, and child clutched a sharp knife. Only when they recognized Old Man Zhang and his group returning did they breathe a sigh of relief and lower their weapons.

"Big Beard Chen came again," one villager lamented. "He said we have only five days left, and if we can't provide the source, he'll wipe out our entire village." The villagers wore grim expressions, sighing mournfully. "The other teams that went out also returned empty-handed," someone added. "We've over-mined the source in nearby areas for years; it's all depleted. How can we possibly gather enough in such a short time?"

Ye Fan settled into a stone hut, typical of the Northern Region. His dwelling was clean and had been meticulously tidied.

That evening, Old Man Zhang and the others offered him warm hospitality. They specially slaughtered a sheep, and everyone gathered around the bonfire. After the golden, glistening roasted whole lamb was taken from the spit, they feasted on large chunks of meat and drank heavily from big bowls.

Most men in the Northern Region were rugged, even bearing a hint of banditry, and drinking contests were common. Ye Fan ate with gusto; after days of constant flight, this relaxed atmosphere was a welcome change. During the meal, he asked Old Man Zhang about several place names, inquiring about their locations.

Old Man Zhang had someone bring a cowhide map and pointed out each location, all within a hundred li radius. These were the strongholds he had learned about from the bandits.

Now, Ye Fan urgently needed source to enhance his strength. That very night, he launched successive raids on three bandit strongholds.

The results were a great disappointment; each bandit lair held only a dozen or so people, and from all three combined, he found barely more than two jin of source.

"This isn't enough for me; I need to target a major bandit leader." By now, Ye Fan deeply missed the source area of the Shaking Light Holy Land. That place was truly a treasure trove; the external regions were incredibly barren and simply couldn't compare.

The stone village was situated within an oasis spanning over ten li. On the horizon, a solitary, massive mountain, thousands of meters high, stood alone.

It was entirely a stone mountain, devoid of soil or vegetation. In the early morning, as sunlight bathed it, the colossal stone mountain exuded an aura of profound solidity.

As Ye Fan emerged from his stone hut, he happened to see Old Man Zhang bowing towards the great mountain, facing the morning glow. This struck him as quite peculiar.

The simple-minded young man named Er Lengzi (Simpleton) guilelessly explained, "The first thing Old Man Zhang does every day after waking is to bow to that great mountain."

A thought sparked in Ye Fan's mind: that mountain was likely not as simple as it seemed; there might be a hidden secret. Just then, Old Man Zhang approached, offering no explanation, only inviting him to breakfast.

"Er Lengzi, tell me, what's so strange about that mountain?" Ye Fan asked when they were alone.

"I don't know," Er Lengzi replied, shaking his head. "Old Man Zhang never lets us go near it, saying it's an inauspicious place."

Ye Fan couldn't extract any more information. He wandered around the stone village for a while, then found Er Lengzi and questioned him again in detail, but Er Lengzi still couldn't offer any clear explanation.

The astute young man, Wang Shu, happened to pass by. He had developed a good impression of Ye Fan, knowing he had stayed to help the village, and offered, "I know a little. Once, when Old Man Zhang was drunk, he wept bitterly, saying that place was inauspicious and connected to some ancient Great Emperor."

Ye Fan was instantly stunned. Throughout history, how many Great Emperors had emerged in the entire Eastern Wasteland?!

Only a handful of individuals had ever achieved such a feat, reigning supreme and shaking both ancient and modern times. Virtually no one could surpass their accomplishments.

The few terrifying Extreme Dao weapons of the Eastern Wasteland were all crafted by those few individuals; no one else could possibly forge them.

At this moment, Ye Fan felt his blood surge, and he nearly cried out. *Connected to ancient Great Emperors?* His mind raced with countless possibilities.