PGVCW 70

Playing God in Various Catastrophic Worlds

Chapter 70: The Arrival of the Disciples

Dropping one massive bombshell, Xia Wang'an didn't wait for anyone to react before dropping yet another explosive revelation.

A garrison guard rushed inside, stammering slightly as he reported: "Lord Sentinel, outside—outside there are several individuals who have landed on our base riding flying swords!"

Xia Wang'an immediately responded, "They are our people."

Not only was she going out herself, but she also pulled along a companion: "The disciples I summoned have arrived; let's all go meet and get acquainted."

Qiu Zhuang's worldview was teetering on the edge of collapse as he followed behind her with a daze-like expression, feeling entirely as though he were walking through a dream.

Upon stepping outside, they discovered that numerous guards had cordoned off the street, separating these strangers who had arrived via sword-flight from the resident population.

"Wang'an!"

These strangers remained completely unruffled, entirely unbothered by the guards cordoning them off, and even gazed around their new surroundings with wide-eyed curiosity.

Upon spotting Xia Wang'an emerge, one of the young women immediately waved a greeting.

A smile bloomed across Xia Wang'an's face as she waved back in response.

Seeing that these "immortals" were acquaintances of the young girl and were stepping out alongside the Sentinel, the guards relaxed their vigilance slightly.

The Rock Squad, who had rushed out to watch the commotion upon hearing the disturbance, stood nearby; Qingyang immediately whispered to her teammates: "You can tell right away they're with Wang'an."

That look of pure, unadulterated curiosity was an exact mirror image.

The youthful youths and maidens wore their inner thoughts entirely exposed upon their countenances, their gazes directed outward toward the surroundings filled with nothing but innocent wonder.

As the residents of the Pangu Base watched them, their lingering wariness unconsciously faded further and further away. Even a bold soul pushed forward curiously, attempting to strike up a conversation with the most lively among them, Cai Cai.

It was a fundamental trait of human nature: whenever a visible, drastic imbalance in combat power existed between two parties, the weaker would instinctively display repulsion and suspicion toward the stronger. Yet standing before them were several youths radiating sheer innocence and childlike curiosity, effectively neutralizing the rising aversion toward the unknown and powerful.

And this was precisely the outcome the Central Headquarters desired.

This world differed significantly from the preceding two; its guardian still functioned actively, and though its human population was exceptionally meager, the base maintained a remarkably stable societal infrastructure. Because the apocalypse had not transpired excessively long ago, many intellectually brilliant minds had survived.

Consequently, during bilateral contact, Headquarters had invested exhaustive effort into refining and polishing their cover background settings, driving the risk of exposure down to zero while similarly minimizing the probability that Xia Wang'an's spiritual corruption might trigger an explosive relapse.

Xia Wang'an herself remained blissfully unaware of these intricate operational details. She simply bounded happily over to her companions, her sharp eyes instantly picking out the Rock Squad members standing within the crowd.

The raven-haired maiden naturally waved toward them: "Skipper! Qingyang! Come over here!"

Turning back to her companions, she announced, "I'll introduce some new friends to you all."

The Observation Report

The entire Rock Squad felt profoundly flattered.

Ever since witnessing two yellow talismans obliterate an anomaly at the base gates, even if they were foolish, they recognized that Xia Wang'an's identity was extraordinary. Yet now, she was stepping out in the company of the Sentinel herself, cutting a figure that screamed guest of honor—and yet she still treated them with the exact same warmth as before.

While the other team members hesitated, Qingyang was the first to jog forward; the guards glanced at Cen Qi and offered no obstruction.

The remaining members of the Rock Squad hurried after her, feeling a mixture of awkward shyness, mild embarrassment, and tiny flickers of genuine delight.

Cen Qi stood to the side with a smile, watching them introduce one another, though her gaze casually drifted toward several elderly individuals in their fifties and sixties standing within the crowd.

A moment later, her tactical earpiece chimed softly, prompting her to retrieve her terminal with practiced ease to review a lengthy briefing report.

This document contained an analytical breakdown of Xia Wang'an and her entourage. Even as she conversed with Xia Wang'an earlier, covert observers had maintained stationary surveillance nearby.

With the arrival of Xia Wang'an's companions, that observational depth had escalated to a new tier.

Cen Qi eagerly anticipated Xia Wang'an's return, but she bore absolute responsibility for the lives of fifty thousand Pangu Base residents. If she accepted every word out of Xia Wang'an's mouth at face value, the Pangu Base would have suffered total extinction a decade prior.

During the two days awaiting Xia Wang'an's reappearance, she had hardly remained idle, proactively deploying specialized intelligence operatives to assist in the monitoring protocols. To optimize tactical communication, she maintained an earpiece channel year-round; under normal circumstances, reports would have been relayed audibly through the comms link. However, possessing exceptional auditory acuity herself, she recognized the folly in assuming practitioners capable of sword-flight would fail to intercept subtle acoustic leakage from a radio receiver.

Consequently, the briefing materialized in a strictly text-based format directly before Cen Qi's eyes.

The text delivered a granular behavioral assessment focusing on the "guests'" facial expressions, body language, and vestimentary details, ultimately validating the veracity of Xia Wang'an's claims.

Standing nearby, Director Ning adjusted his spectacles, staring at a translucent display projection visible exclusively to his optical interface containing the identical intelligence report Cen Qi was reviewing.

Compared to Blue Star, the local technological infrastructure remained somewhat rudimentary; nevertheless, executing subtle proxy infiltration across external network architecture required minimal effort.

Yet he harbored zero professional condescension toward native capabilities; on the contrary, the exhaustive analytical report compiled within such a compressed timeframe served as definitive proof of the local populace's administrative competence.

They were not one-dimensional literary tropes primed to weep tears of gratitude and hurl themselves blindly upon a perceived savior. While they anticipated Xia Wang'an's return, they maintained rigorous institutional skepticism regarding her underlying agenda—balancing diplomatic friendliness with discreet reconnaissance to verify whether the arriving party harbored hostile intent.

Yuan Ning's gaze shifted toward Qiu Zhuang, who stood nearby looking thoroughly dazed.

No wonder Headquarters elected to anchor their operations by integrating into an indigenous esoteric sect.

The Traditional Gear

Xia Wang'an remained entirely unbothered by complex geopolitical calculations, though she perceptually registered that Cen Qi and the leadership circle exhibited an increased degree of personal warmth toward her.

Operational dialogue was smoothly transitioned over to Yuan Ning.

The communicative agenda centered primarily upon articulating a foundational mythology for the newly established "Saving Heaven Sect," reinforcing their absolute determination to purge anomalies from the land.

For the inhabitants of the Pangu Base, verifying that the arriving faction possessed benign intentions transformed Xia Wang'an's group into a literal mountain of celestial gold; the locals could scarcely contain their eager inquiries:

"Did your sect spend the past few decades stationed entirely in the Western sectors?"

"What prompted your sudden return?"

"What prerequisites govern Daoist cultivation? Can ordinary mortals cultivate as well?"

"If talismans suppress anomalies, can we acquire instruction?"

Yuan Ning maintained an unwavering, amiable smile throughout, addressing each query with patient articulation.

Meanwhile, the remaining members of the Five Tongs Squad scattered like released chicks, bounding off happily to explore the settlement.

Xia Wang'an had changed into standard vestimentary provisions; as she moved, crisp metallic chimes rang out rhythmically from delicate bells sewn into her garments, producing an exceptionally pleasing auditory resonance.

Virtually every Pangu Base resident who observed her distinctive ensemble instinctively registered: That individual is unequivocally a high-ranking master.

While the old adage "respect the garments before respecting the person" carried satirical undertones, apparel unquestionably conveyed profound contextual data.

Aligning with the intuitive appraisal of Pangu Base elders, the supreme patriarch of the Heavenly Talisman Sect, an aged Daoist master named Xuan Cheng, similarly evaluated their aesthetic presentation and elected to accept Xia Wang'an's declarations at face value.

Their novel garments featured standardized embroidered motifs mirroring the institutional insignia of the Heavenly Talisman Sect's formal vestments, yet introduced subtle evolutionary flourishes.

The outer robes were cut with generous breadth—exceeding traditional Daoist dimensions. This expansive scaling was not executed for aesthetic flowing elegance, but functioned to maximize internal cargo capacities. Beyond specialized internal pockets positioned across multiple body zones, external suspension loops accommodated diverse field equipment, while the cavernous sleeve-folds possessed sufficient interior volume to accommodate a portable treasure chest.

The uniform design department had poured monumental labor into the initiative; during initial prototyping phases, hundreds of technical specialists replicated standardized talismanic raw materials, collaborating to synthesize apparel that merged visual dignity with absolute utilitarian functionality.

Every member of the Five Tongs Squad sported an ornamental emerald-embroidered fabric pouch secured at their left flank, housing premier-grade talisman paper, while thin margins of gold leaf peeked out temptingly from their massive sleeve cavities. Suspended from their right waistbands were exquisite writing brushes masquerading as decorative accessories, terminating in cascading clusters of miniature gourds.

Within those gourds reposed pre-mixed talismanic cinnabar ink. Xuan Cheng watched with his own eyes as the disciple named Cai Cai plunged her hand into an opposite sleeve-fold, extracted an ornate storage case, popped the latch, and replenished her waist-gourd with fresh cinnabar reserves.

Given that the primary case accommodated bulk cinnabar supplies, what manner of tactical payloads were sequestered within the dangling gourd clusters?

Unable to suppress his curiosity, Xuan Cheng voiced the inquiry aloud; Xia Wang'an demonstrated the inventory with casual transparency.

"This specific gourd contains rooster blood."

"This unit holds black dog blood."

"This variant—which you observed previously—contains formulated cinnabar ink."

Having introduced the standard variants, Xia Wang'an casually bypassed the largest gourd hanging in the array.

Xuan Cheng blinked: "And what of... that specific vessel?"

The raven-haired maiden smiled with utter innocence: "Ah, that one? That container is reserved for capturing anomalies."

"Certain high-tier anomalies possess complex capabilities that defy immediate liberation rites; under such conditions, we capture them inside the gourd to transport them back for methodical processing."

Concluding her breakdown, Xia Wang'an exhibited mild confusion: "Patriarch, why were you unfamiliar with this protocol? Has the Heavenly Talisman tradition of suspending gourds from the waist not been preserved across the generations?"

Were those not traditionally utilized for storing medicinal herbs?

He had consistently operated under the assumption that the Heavenly Talisman Sect favored waist-gourds due to their superior air-tight sealing capabilities, which kept medicinal compounds completely dry and insulated against atmospheric humidity.

His master had never mentioned that the apparatus possessed the capacity to swallow active anomalies.

Confronted by Xia Wang'an's absolute composure, Xuan Cheng could only offer a strained, apologetic cough: "Our tradition preserved the practice of wearing gourds, but successive generations repurposed them strictly for herbal storage."

"No matter. We fabricated extensive surplus reserves; allow me to provision your lineage with an updated kit."

Extending her palm, an immaculate tactical equipment set materialized instantly within Xia Wang'an's grip.

Hesitating briefly, Xuan Cheng accepted the offering: "My gratitude."

Unclasping an antique jade pendant from his own belt, he countered: "Please accept this token in return."

Accepting gifts without scrutinizing their metaphysical properties represented basic social etiquette; refusing nothing, Xia Wang'an beamed brightly as she received the pendant and immediately secured it to her own belt.

The Remedial Lecture

Observing Xuan Cheng readjust his Daoist vestments, Xia Wang'an offered a proactive proposal:

"Patriarch, since your foundational instruction is lacking, attempting to improvise countermeasures during active anomaly engagements will prove fatal. Allow me to provide a remedial instructional seminar."

Xuan Cheng betrayed visible hesitation: "Would I not be imposing upon your personal schedule?"

"Not at all; we share a common ancestral lineage. It is no trouble whatsoever."

Whenever the topic shifted toward academic instruction, Xia Wang'an radiated vibrant, tireless enthusiasm. Having spent recent days furiously cramming advanced talismanic modules, she harbored an eager desire to disseminate her accumulated scholarship.

Lin Ke and Qiu Zhuang experienced simultaneous facial contortions, turning on their heels to sprint away with practiced efficiency—both suffered from severe academic lopsidedness and despised talismanic lectures.

Cai Cai, conversely, exhibited model enthusiasm, immediately settling into a rigid posture as she retrieved paper and writing implements from her sleeve-fold, projecting an unmistakable aura of [I am fully prepared].

Lux was notably absent; possessing avian wings and lacking operational control over their retraction, he remained temporarily grounded on Blue Star.

Observing Cai Cai's absolute dedication, Xuan Cheng adjusted his expression, forcing his features into a mask of solemn academic focus as he assumed a formal seated posture to signal his attentiveness. At that moment, he completely divorced his cognitive processing from his actual demographic profile—totally overlooking the reality that, as a sexagenarian elder, he was hardly expected to charge onto frontline battlefields to execute anomalies.

Several Pangu Base garrison soldiers assigned to monitor the visitors exchanged meaningful glances.

One soldier whispered tentatively: "May we also audit the seminar?"

Xia Wang'an granted immediate, magnanimous approval: "Certainly."

An instantaneous wave of private elation surged through the soldiers. News regarding the arrival of true Daoist practitioners had saturated the base; everyone was acutely aware that these mystics neutralized S-rank anomalies with a solitary slip of paper.

While military personnel possessed baseline combat proficiency, seizing an opportunity to acquire superior mystical capabilities represented an unmissable tactical advantage. Furthermore, superior command echelons had explicitly instructed them to maintain close observational surveillance over the visitors; attending a structured lecture provided an optimal vantage point to analyze their operational mechanics firsthand.

Fixating their gazes with razor-sharp intensity, several soldiers hastily produced note-taking media mirroring Cai Cai's preparations.

And thus, Xia Wang'an commenced formal instruction.

Progressing systematically from the historical origins of talismanic codification to functional taxonomies, applicable operational scenarios, and precise casting parameters.

Cai Cai listened with absolute absorption; Xia Wang'an's pedagogical delivery exhibited vastly superior practical depth compared to institutional instructors at central headquarters, primarily because every principle she articulated had been rigorously validated through live operational combat. Cai Cai had consistently enjoyed Xia Wang'an's tutorial sessions during their academic tenure, and presently found herself leaning into the material with heightened engagement.

As the lecture accelerated, Cai Cai actively raised procedural queries, successfully driving derivative sub-topics.

The pair grew increasingly animated, causing Xia Wang'an's pedagogical velocity to scale exponentially.

Meanwhile, Xuan Cheng—who had begun struggling to parse abstract structural efficiencies by the foundational taxonomy phase—sat frantically attempting to transcribe handwritten notes while his eyes began rolling back in synchronized confusion.

As for the monitoring soldiers, their cognitive retention collapsed completely before historical origins were fully exhausted. The esoteric nomenclature operated with the cognitive density of an active hypnotic incantation; merely listening induced an overwhelming, systemic urge to drift into deep slumber.

They retained absolute, unshakeable conviction that the Saving Heaven Sect's eight-century structural lineage diverging from the Heavenly Talisman tradition was an indisputable historical fact. After all, the archival genealogical records they had been furnished with (manufactured meticulously by the Background Research Division) extended unbroken across eight hundred years—surpassing their own local sect records, which had been incinerated during historical wartime engagements two centuries prior.

The complex corpus of talismans, medicinal formulations, spatial arrays, and vocal mantras articulated by Xia Wang'an defied spontaneous fabrication.

Xuan Cheng possessed residual sectarian literacy, permitting him to comprehend roughly thirty percent of the baseline terminology. However, as Xia Wang'an transitioned into advanced structural breakdowns, the pedagogical landscape shifted radically:

"Gold paper is categorized into celestial gold, dimensional gold,盘金, longevity gold, print gold, primary gold, supreme gold, quadrangular gold, intermediate gold, and absolute gold..."

"Having detailed necessary instrumentation, one must recognize that distinct anomalies demand specialized talismanic classifications governed by environmental matrices..."

Xia Wang'an maintained uninterrupted instructional momentum across the better part of a diurnal cycle, driving Xuan Cheng's eyelids into heavy, repetitive drooping as he violently slapped his own cheeks to preserve cognitive alertness.

Had an outside observer claimed that either lineage was fraudulent, Xuan Cheng's primary defensive reflex would have been questioning the authenticity of his own bloodline. He harbored deep internal doubts as to whether his own foundational patriarch possessed comparable theoretical mastery.

By mid-afternoon, one of the monitoring soldiers had completely surrendered to physiological fatigue, slumping forward across his writing desk into deep somnolence. It wasn't a lack of professional ambition, but rather the sheer, arcane density of the linguistic delivery acting as a powerful somatic sedative.

As the soldier drifted into a semi-conscious twilight, he caught Xia Wang'an's vocal cadence shifting dynamically: "Now that foundational theory has reached baseline completion, we shall..."

The soldier snapped his eyes wide, fighting through residual exhaustion to snap his torso upright.

Has the lecture concluded?!

Xia Wang'an remarked casually: "...proceed directly to live operational field tests."

Soldier: "...?"

Xuan Cheng: "...?"

The Live Field Exercise

When they found themselves standing approximately one hundred kilometers beyond the base perimeter, confronting an active A-rank anomaly, Xuan Cheng retained a pervasive, surreal sensation that he remained trapped within an unresolved slumber.

Fine drizzle drifted across the gray firmament; he pinched his forearm firmly.

The sharp pain confirmed the reality of the theater.

Ahhhhh—

This was an A-rank anomaly!

The accompanying garrison soldiers wore expressions matching Xuan Cheng's pale pallor; unfortunately, due to their natural sun-scorched complexions, their panic manifested primarily as an uniform intensification of their deep bronze coloration.

Xia Wang'an maintained an uncompromised pedagogical posture.

The target A-rank anomaly functioned as one of several territorial apex predators lingering within proximity of the Pangu Base; at the moment of their spatial transition, the entity was actively feeding.

Feeding protocols entailed entrapping a civilian logistics transport convoy within its localized domain matrix.

Observing the descending cohort materializing via flying swords from the firmament, the trapped convoy personnel assumed the manifestation was a psychological hallucination induced by the anomaly's domain projection. Particularly because Xia Wang'an balanced a multi-passenger load upon a single blade, rendering the physics vastly more absurd than standard hallucinations.

"Everyone remain stationary! Fight down your emotional volatility! These apparitions are entirely fabricated—do not engage!"

A male convoy leader shouted instructions frantically: "Achieve absolute mental equilibrium! Count silently to five hundred; the illusion will dissipate organically."

Glancing briefly toward the transport convoy, Xia Wang'an mentally stamped them with an internal classification of [sub-optimal combat units] and instantly dismissed them from her attentional focus.

She redirected her focus back to her tutorial parameters: "Precipitation is actively falling across the sector. Under such meteorological conditions, what environmental elemental orientation dominates?"

Cai Cai raised her hand immediately: "Water!"

Mimicking instructional mannerisms observed during her own training sessions, Xia Wang'an nodded with gentle satisfaction: "Correct. Water aligns with cognitive depth; heavy precipitation amplifies stellar hostility indices, causing anomalous entities to experience substantial combat surges."

While she lectured, the towering, three-story-tall anomaly situated directly before them emitted a discordant, venomous shriek. Undulating its massive serpentine torso across the terrain, its slick, viscous dermis brushed close to the perimeter boundaries, generating universal goosebumps across the observers' skin.

Within the trapped convoy, numerous civilian occupants broke down into silent, restrained weeping, clamping their teeth desperately against their lips to suppress auditory leakage.

Xuan Cheng and the accompanying soldiers froze into rigid statues, completely immobilized by somatic terror.

Only Xia Wang'an remained entirely unaffected.

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