Chapter 139: The Revival of Spiritual Energy

Since ancient times, the Eastern Federation had been rich with myths and legends, and the sacred texts of countless religions had been passed down through the ages without end.

Even in the years just before the new century, folktales like “Fallen Dragon,” “Water Monkey,” and “Return of the Soul” still circulated among local regions.

But as camera technology advanced, these so-called folktales and legends became increasingly rare. Most people no longer feared them, instead treating them as quaint elements of traditional culture.

However, just two days ago, an incident on Mount Beimang took the entire internet by storm.

Thanks to the modern habit of filming everything with smartphones, no fewer than five or six phones had clearly captured the full event.

In the videos, the billowing, seemingly tangible cloud mist and the awe-inspiring black-armored Ghost God all seemed to shout one thing: this was real.

What made it even more mysterious was that after being driven away by the Ghost God, the tourists were seen falling from hundreds of meters high—yet landing unharmed at the base camp, with hundreds of witnesses present.

Even if one tried to explain the fog away as a natural phenomenon, there was no scientific way to rationalize what the black-armored Ghost God had done.

The videos went viral almost instantly, dominating the trending charts for a full two days.

At first, tech influencers released debunking videos analyzing possible CGI or AI-generated content. Then experts came out to declare it a natural phenomenon. Next, celebrities tried to claim it was a teaser for a new film being shot on Mount Beimang. Finally, a flood of clout-chasing influencers rushed to the mountain in droves.

In the blink of an eye, the once-unremarkable Mount Beimang had become the hottest tourist destination in the entire Eastern Federation.

Even international social media picked up on the buzz, with heated discussions surrounding the bizarre events at Mount Beimang.

And yet—on the mountain itself, ever since the tourists had been driven away, the spreading fog gradually began to still.

The cloud mist now covered an area of roughly eight kilometers, blanketing several mountain peaks. Even two days later, there were no signs of it dispersing.

From a bird’s-eye view, it looked as though a massive piece of Mount Beimang had simply been carved away and hidden behind a veil of white.

Following the anomaly, the Luocheng authorities quickly dispatched personnel to secure the area and sealed off the fog-covered zone.

But Mount Beimang was vast, and it was impossible to post guards at every entry point across eight kilometers of mountains. Dozens of influencers and thrill-seekers charged into the mist, desperate to ride the first wave of popularity.

Only thirty minutes later, they emerged—every last one of them with glazed eyes and vacant expressions, as though their souls had been ripped from their bodies.

The moment they stepped out of the fog and were exposed to sunlight, they collapsed and fell into a deep sleep, completely unresponsive to any attempts to wake them.

Even when they were rushed to hospitals for examination, no medical equipment could find anything physically wrong.

All their phones and cameras showed nothing but endless white—the recordings captured no abnormalities whatsoever.

Some who had studied folklore and mythology began to speculate: these people had wandered into a ghost realm on Mount Beimang and lost their souls—their “three souls and seven spirits” scattered.

And the fact that nothing showed up on the recordings? Proof, they said, that ghosts cannot be captured by machines.

In the past, such theories would have been ridiculed.

But in the wake of the Mount Beimang incident, even the Luocheng government and medical institutions had fallen silent.

Various powers had already begun gathering in Luocheng, preparing to launch investigations into the Mount Beimang anomaly through the lens of ancient myth and folk belief.

What no one knew was that—beneath the fog-shrouded veil of Mount Beimang—an entirely different scene was unfolding.

Lu Yan strolled leisurely through the mist, and right behind him, the “legendary” black-armored Ghost God—who had shocked the entire internet—was now lugging several saplings on his shoulder, looking nothing like his awe-inspiring, mystical self.

At this moment, Lishi looked less like a mythical ghost god and more like a glorified porter.

When they reached a spring, Lu Yan pointed to a spot, and Lishi immediately dug a deep hole and planted one of the saplings with practiced ease.

Standing before the newly planted tree, Lu Yan sprinkled crushed spirit stone powder around its roots with his left hand while forming a seal with his right.

First-Grade Low-Rank Spell — Forced Growth Technique!

In an instant, the tiny sapling began to grow rapidly before their eyes. In just a few dozen seconds, it transformed into a five-meter-tall tree, bloomed with radiant flowers, and bore clusters of crystal-red fruits.

A faint spiritual aura floated from the fruits, and under the light, they sparkled like masterfully carved art pieces.

These were Firejade Fruits, spiritual fruits Lu Yan had previously gathered from the Xianxia version of the world. Though they appeared mystical and rare, they were technically ungraded.

And it was precisely because they were ungraded that the Forced Growth Technique could be used so easily to speed up their development.

The original purpose of Firejade Fruits was to deceive mortals.

Most mortals had never seen a real spirit fruit. Just by appearances alone, they would think this was some rare divine treasure. But in truth, aside from their attractive look and faint spiritual energy, Firejade Fruits held no real value.

At least—not in the Xianxia version.

But in the urban version, even a touch of spiritual energy could strengthen the human body, with effects surpassing that of top-tier genetic enhancement drugs.

After planting another Firejade Fruit tree, Lu Yan casually dropped a seed onto the ground and moved on.

The Forced Growth Technique activated again. The seed burrowed into the earth and sprouted into a blue-colored spiritual herb.

Over the past two days, ever since expanding the fog’s range, Lu Yan had first constructed a Maze Array around the mist’s perimeter. Any ordinary person who entered would immediately fall under the array’s effects and leave on their own, followed by sleeping for seven days and nights.

He then began actively planting spiritual trees and herbs throughout the area.

By planting an artificial spirit vein on Mount Beimang, Lu Yan had awakened the first pulse of spiritual energy in the entire urban version of the world.

According to the vein’s evolution speed, in less than three years, the region would start producing its first spirit plants and spirit ores, transforming it into a true spiritual land.

But Lu Yan couldn’t afford to wait that long.

So instead, he used the Misty Cloud Technique and Maze Array to drive everyone away while quickly populating the spirit vein zone with ungraded spiritual flora.

Once this land was opened to the public, anyone who stepped inside would immediately discover the spirit herbs and ores brimming with spiritual energy.

To cultivators, these might not be worth much.

But to ordinary people, they would be priceless.

Through these items, people would come to realize the true value of Mount Beimang’s spirit vein—and from there, the wheels of spiritual energy development would start turning.

And all Lu Yan would need to do… was nudge things along slightly.

In doing so, he would transform the research efforts of the upper echelons into a chain reaction—one that would ignite a full-blown revival of spiritual energy across the entire urban version of the world!

(End of Chapter)