The administrator that had been intimidating even Dao lords at the Assembly earlier was nervous as he stood before a certain misty existence, both of them surrounded by an endless void.
"My lord, directly observing the participants will result in their death, they are not able to handle the strain of your perception."
"I see." an ethereal voice sounded from the mist.
"Grant numbers one through eleven pills to heal the damage they took....Except number seven, he had some sort of technique that prevented major injuries."
The administrator quickly looked up who number seven was.
"Feng Zhiming?"
The administrator was confused about why this person was being exempted.
"What kind of cultivator would turn down a gift from a god."
The misty existence started to vanish.
"You seem to be mistaken about something."
"Please enlighten me." the administrator asked with his head lowered.
"That boy, he's a walking contradiction."
…
As he came across the encampment, he noticed that it was obviously not in chaos, there was no sight of bandits running around and looking for a stolen item, this meant the two disciples from earlier were either dead or captured.
He was truly conflicted, if he was going to put effort into this, he wanted something of value in return. He was not a true member of the sect, so why would he blindly complete their missions without something of value.
"Time to spread the Circle of the Forgotten One."
He knew that to survive this game he would need to establish a faction that would be loyal to him, and people in factions were loyal to the ones who held power, or at least loyal to the ones they believe held power.
Before appearing at the encampment Feng Zhiming retrieved his fan from his storage ring.
"Let's make this convincing." he thought to himself.
He gritted his teeth and swung his fan, blood spurted out as he stabbed himself in his left tricep, To stop the bleeding he bandaged it with a torn sleeve from the robe.
The wound was inconsequential, at this stage cultivators could heal flesh wounds the moment they desired given that they had enough spiritual energy.
His current state made him look like he had been through a great battle, one of his arms was bandaged, and the other was sleeveless.
"One more thing."
He circulated his art of demonic suppression, now he appeared as a cultivator at the Qi condensation stage
"Time to commence this play."
…
Within the encampment, 14 people were sitting around a campfire and roasting some meat while drinking. They all wore what seemed to be mixed and match clothing of some sort, all except one, that man wore beast hide.
The man with the beast hide looked like someone that had truly grown up in the forest, an unkempt beard, scars lining his arms and a rugged physique developed through countless trials.
"Then he said, I AM A DISCIPLE FROM THE THREE GREAT DEMONIC SECTS!"
The entire encampment burst into laughter. The person narrating was at the Condensed stage of the Ethereal Core and the vice captain of the group.
"I'm surprised fools like them even made it to the Ethereal Core realm, a couple of show ponies."
The man wearing the beast skin spoke up as he turned to look at the head of the long nosed disciple that had been at Feng Zhiming's side not too long ago.
The head had been stuck onto a spike and planted by the entrance to the camp.
"Were they stupid enough to think two Ethereal Core loose cultivators show up to join bandit groups on the daily." another person in the encampment added.
"Boss another one is walking over to camp, same robes, but he seems to be injured and looks to be a Qi Condensation cultivator." one of the other bandits who was standing guard said.
"Bring him here."
Feng Zhiming was captured and brought before the leader of the bandits, he was forced to kneel as he spoke.
"I am and Mu Han, and the second elder of the Heavenly Divine Demon sect is my grandfather."
Feng Zhiming had calculated that at their core the bandits would be greedy.
"I was walking through the forest when I came across a group of immigrants, the cultivator they had with them was just a little stronger than me, so they decided to rob me and nearly kill me."
The captain of the bandits withdrew his saber and stabbed it into the ground before replying.
"Why should I let you live, and where are the ones you claim robbed you?"
Feng Zhiming wore a terrified expression before he responded.
"I am worth a lot to my grandfather, he will pay as much as you want, as for the immigrants they are camping two miles north of here."
The man looked over at the vice captain and gestured or him to come close before he whispered to him.
"If the camp is weak, rob and kill them all, take everyone with you."
The bandit leader was naturally not an idiot, he knew some of the political powers within the unorthodox territory, this included that existence of the grandchild of a key figure of power.
The group of bandits departed quickly, none of them took the words of their leader lightly, nor were they weary of a beat up Qi Condensation cultivator.
The leader slammed his foot down and created a hole within the camp where he tossed Feng Zhiming.
"Did they have anything of value?"
"I have no idea what treasures they have. But they did mention something about a valuable possession."
This was the start of his plan, he had already calculated that it would take approximately ten minutes for the bandits to massacre the camp. For this plan to work, he needed either the captain alone or the rest of the bandits alone, and he had succeeded.
The captain smirked and began to drink before he turned to look at what Feng Zhiming was up to.
"Praise to the Forgotten One."
Feng Zhiming had his hands clasped together as he slowly repeated one phrase.
"The one who was forgotten and the one who was lost, will be found in the vestiges of eternity."