Guns were introduced in the land of Cultivation.
And just like that—everything changed.
The next time the Demonic Beasts came, thinking they were returning to an easy hunting ground, they didn’t find fear or screaming civilians.
They found bullets.
It started with a single patrol.
Bai Zihan led the way, the crude gun slung over his shoulder like a divine instrument of war.
Hong Tao and Lao Shen followed behind, each carrying a fresh prototype.
They were supposed to just test range and accuracy.
Instead, they got ambushed.
A pack of Four-Eyed Hellhounds, gnashing their teeth and howling with bloodlust, surged from the shadows of a ruined building.
In the past, this would’ve been a problem. Hellhounds were fast, their hides tough.
Usually, it took a team of elite soldiers to bring one down—if they were lucky.
But this time?
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Three shots. Three corpses.
The hounds didn’t even reach them. Their speed was nothing before the speed of a bullet.
Bai Zihan lowered his gun, his face calm.
Lao Shen blinked.
“That’s it?”
Hong Tao stared at the smoking ruins of the beasts.
“They didn’t even get close…”
They knew the gun was a powerful weapon, but even then, they seemed to have underestimated it.
Four-Eyed Hellhounds who once terrorized with insane speed—dodging attacks and launching ambushes—were killed without being able to do anything.
Lao Shen and Hong Tao were also excited about their first Demonic Beast kills.
Normally, for people like them—weak, ordinary—killing a Demonic Beast was nothing more than a dream.
But with a gun, they had achieved it. And easily, at that.
They went around testing—or more like, it turned into fun after a bit—and before they returned to the shelter, they had already killed almost twenty Demonic Beasts.
An insane number for a team of three, made up of two who had never killed a Demonic Beast before.
Moreover, Bai ZIhan didn’t even participate in most of their kills.
When they returned, Hong Tao couldn’t help but brag about his achievement to the other people of the shelter, though all he did was pull the trigger.
The other people listened in amazement and couldn’t stop praising Bai Zihan for developing such a weapon in a time of need.
Five more people were selected to test and try the gun. They were all amazed and excited after their first try.
With these weapons, they had high hopes that they could reclaim what was once theirs.
Ironmist’s reclaiming began!
It was brutal! Efficient! One-sided!
Beasts that once inspired terror became nothing more than training targets.
Armed patrols—led by Bai Zihan, supported by black powder and a growing arsenal of guns—swept through the ruins like a cleansing flame.
In the past, clearing a single block might take half a day. Now?
Ten minutes!
Bang. Reload. Bang. Move on.
Ruthless!
Some tried to dodge. Others charged blindly.
Didn’t matter.
As soon as that click came, they were dead.
Their hides might resist swords. Claws might shatter shields.
But none of them could stop a bullet traveling faster than sound and fire.
Even Demonic Beasts—those with stronger defense—were no match for the sheer destructive force of a bullet to the skull.
So what if you had thicker skin?
You might survive one bullet—but can you survive ten?
Those who were only good at defense had no method of counterattack and just stalled for time until their defense broke and a bullet pierced through their brain.
They were like sitting ducks—it just took an extra bullet to kill them.
But Bai Zihan understood that while the gun was efficient against low-grade Demonic Beasts, it wouldn’t be as effective against high-grade ones.
It took quite a lot of bullets and skilled tankers to kill a Grade-2 Demonic Beast. Previously, even that was impossible with soldiers and civilians.
But that also made him realize that it wouldn’t be of much use if they were to face Grade-3 Demonic Beasts and above.
Well, he already anticipated that.
Even his real body wouldn’t be scratched by a bullet. Guns were only effective because they were dealing with low-grade Demonic Beasts.
Anyway, for their situation, a gun was the best weapon they could have.
The shelter expanded outward, one cleared street at a time.
Collapsed buildings were repurposed into watchtowers and outposts.
Survivors trapped in pockets of the city were rescued in droves—dozens, hundreds at a time.
Each time, they were greeted not by frightened soldiers, but grim-faced warriors holding smoking barrels and cold steel.
To the rescued, Bai Zihan became something else entirely.
Not a man.
Not even a hero.
A reaper in human skin, wearing soot and blood like a crown.
He didn’t rest. Didn’t smile much. Barely even talked.
But when he stood in front of charging beasts, he killed them all without giving them a chance to resist.
Although guns were developed and distributed, Bai Zihan hardly used them. He still preferred his sword.
***
Inside the shelter, things changed too.
Children played with wooden rifles, mimicking gun sounds and pretending to be Bai Zihan.
Soldiers trained day and night, their hands blistered from reloading drills.
Guns were still rare, but production was ramping up, with Lao Shen prioritizing getting out as many guns as possible.
Because he knew this was their hope of getting out of this hellhole.
Every new one was greeted like a newborn child.
Each bullet was counted. Tracked. Honored.
Because each bullet was worth a life.
Or a death.
Lao Shen’s smithy never slept.
Black powder was being stored in reinforced chambers.
But Bai Zihan was deep in thought.
He didn’t know just how long it was going to take to complete this trial.
It had already been a week since this Trial started, and there seemed to be no end.
No matter how many Demonic Beasts he killed, how many people he saved, and how much territory he reclaimed, he still had no idea what the Trial was about.
(Just what is this Trial about?)
Bai Zihan wondered.
By now, he thought he might get an idea—but all he saw was endless destruction in this massive city and nothing else.
(Just what does Immortal Emperor Feilian want from this Trial?)
He had no idea.
He looked at the Inner City.
(Is the objective inside the Inner City? Should I go there?)
Bai Zihan considered entering the Inner City.
Though the Inner City seemed to be protected by a barrier, Bai Zihan could tell it was nothing but a low-level formation that even the weakest of the sect wouldn’t use.
But for mortals, perhaps they considered it an impenetrable barrier.
He could easily sneak into it without so much as sweating.
But of course, who knows what’s inside?
He didn’t want to underestimate this place just because it had been too easy for him until now.
Just then, a team returned from their hunt of Demonic Beasts, smiles on their faces.
But Bai Zihan sensed someone trailing them.
Bai Zihan narrowed his eyes.
He could see a few figures at quite a distance.
They seemed skilled in keeping their distance and erasing their presence—though that didn’t work on Bai Zihan.
He didn’t do anything but feigned ignorance for now.
After some time, Bai Zihan came to the conclusion that they weren’t assassins or enemies.
He thought they either came from another shelter of survivors or—more likely—from the Inner City.
After some time, they disappeared.
They didn’t appear for a few days before finally coming to him personally, where he learned that they were indeed from the Inner City.
They explained their mission and talked about how great guns were and how they could potentially save the city.
Then they asked Bai Zihan to come with them, saying it was an order from their princess.
Bai Zihan refused on the spot. There was no telling whether who he was going to meet was an ally or an enemy.
And with how the Inner City had abandoned the Middle and Outer City, he was more inclined to think it was the latter.
“Captain Bai, the Princess of the Vermilion Throne wishes to speak to you personally. Can’t you spare a bit of your time?”
The scout leader tried to persuade Bai Zihan.
He thought the reason for his refusal might be because of his care for the survivors and his need to look after them.
“Even if it was the Princess herself—if she wants something from me—then it’s only right that she should come to me, not the other way around.”
The scout leader, thinking Bai Zihan disliked the princess, asked again.
“The Ministers also want to speak with you.”
The scout leader lied, trying to make Bai Zihan come along with him.
???
(If I don’t even want to answer your princess’s call, why would I come just because of the ministers?)
But Bai Zihan figured it out quickly. There was politics everywhere, and this city was no different—power was divided.
He gave a similar response, telling them that no matter who it was, if they wanted something from him, they should be the ones coming to him—not the other way around.
The scout leader also asked to take one of the guns with him, but Bai Zihan refused.
He considered the possibility that their real objective was to get the weapon. If they got their hands on it, he might never meet the Princess or the Ministers.
He knew he had to meet them eventually to perhaps understand the objective of the Trial—but he would do it in a place where he had the advantage.
Bai Zihan figured the princess might not come herself—it was too dangerous.
But who could’ve guessed—
Just a few hours after his conversation with the scout leader…
The princess actually came to their shelter.
“Hello, I am Princess Feilian! Can I speak with you?”