Chapter 335: Inside the Bomb Shelter

The bomb shelter’s entrance appeared to have been forcibly breached by some powerful entity, its metal doors crushed and twisted beyond recognition.  

Xia Chao tried bending the door with his full strength, but found the material exceptionally sturdy—even with his cultivation of the Dragon-Tiger Arhat Strength technique, he couldn’t budge it an inch.  

“It must be some composite steel,” Xia Chao mused. Among humans, specialized equipment for four or five-star contract beasts was made from rare, expensive steel alloys. Wealthy individuals even commissioned armor and weapons from such materials for their contract beasts.  

“Harder than you imagine,” Jiang Li remarked. “Your civilization’s strongest materials can withstand attacks from five-star demonic beasts—equivalent to Divine Transformation stage strikes. This door surpasses that—only a full-force assault from a six-star beast could break through.”  

“This is a lost crafting technique.” Jiang Li immediately recognized the door’s manufacturing method, which involved technologies currently nonexistent in Lingxi World. At their current development rate, it would take millennia to rediscover such methods.  

“Then this…”  

“Is this from the future?” Qiu Shi entered the shelter, noting how despite its apparent age, the structure displayed technological sophistication beyond their era.  

“Could future humans have built a time-traveling bomb shelter that arrived in our present?” Qiu Shi’s imagination ran wild.  

“…” Baixue Ling sighed inwardly at such naive boldness. Did he have any concept of the energy required to displace an object of this size through time? Or the technological and temporal comprehension needed? Even Ji Zhi would need to reach the Tribulation Transcendence stage to accomplish such feats.  

“Keep guessing.”  

Jiang Li didn’t mind their speculation. Wiping dust from the walls, he estimated two millennia of weathering.  

The shelter’s interior was pitch black. With a snap of his fingers, Jiang Li conjured rows of flame orbs that illuminated the corridor like soldierly torches.  

Little Green Snake reverted to thumb-sized python form, coiling around Xia Chao’s neck while curiously surveying their surroundings.  

The shelter’s interior showed signs of attack—warped walls and scattered sci-fi-esque firearms, some still clutched by skeletal hands.  

Xia Chao visualized the scene: A monstrous beast battering through the doors, shelter occupants firing useless weapons before being devoured—only discarded guns and severed limbs remaining.  

“Is this… from humanity’s past?” Xia Chao ventured after contemplation.  

Both Xia Chao and Qiu Shi were model students—attentive in class, diligent note-takers, consistently top scorers. Their historical knowledge was impeccable.  

They knew Lingxi World’s verified history spanned two millennia. Beyond that existed only contradictory legends: tales of beast-taming immortals, ancient human cultivators, and speculation that pre-history civilization possessed superior technology.  

While the beast-immortal legends’ veracity was unclear, the existence of immortal realms was confirmed. Though uncertain about ancient humans cultivating, Xia Chao’s current abilities—and Jiang Li’s presence—lent credence to these myths. Xia Chao now suspected the final legend might also hold truth—that human history extended far beyond recorded two thousand years.  

“But our current year is Lingxi 2000. The door says Lingxi 4200,” Qiu Shi pointed out.  

“Then where did our ‘Lingxi Calendar’ originate from?” Xia Chao’s question stumped Qiu Shi. They’d always used the calendar without questioning its naming. There must be deeper origins—perhaps a pre-existing Lingxi Calendar era destroyed long ago, with survivors restarting the count from year one.  

“Your ancestors built this,” Jiang Li confirmed.  

The term “ancestors” felt incongruous to the young men, who imagined primitive agriculturalists—not builders of such advanced shelters. The technological gap suggested they themselves were the primitive ones.  

Deeper inside, they discovered intact jade-like skeletons—their hardness unchanged after millennia. Xia Chao suddenly recognized their resemblance.  

“My bones look similar,” he realized, recalling glimpses of his own slightly jade-hued skeleton during the brutal three-month training when spirit swords frequently impaled him.  

“Your ancestor?” Bone-Winged White Tiger interjected.  

“My bones were normal before cultivation,” Xia Chao clarified.  

“Not his ancestor,” Jiang Li corrected. “Xia Chao’s bone transformation resulted from the Evergreen Technique. This deceased individual was also a cultivator—likely practicing a similar technique at higher proficiency, probably Nascent Soul stage.”  

Qiu Shi’s eyes widened. The legends were true—ancient humans weren’t mere support systems for contract beasts, but genuine cultivators.  

“Try firing this.” Jiang Li picked up a gun. Though two millennia had rendered it fragile, he reinforced its damaged components.  

Xia Chao pulled the trigger. Nothing happened.  

“Jammed?”  

“Channel spiritual energy while firing,” Jiang Li instructed. A gunshot echoed as condensed spiritual energy launched a projectile far exceeding conventional firearms’ power.  

Baixue Ling examined another gun: “Innovative design, truly meant for cultivators. Pity its power pales against Spiritual Treasures.”  

Xia Chao agreed—while stronger than gunpowder weapons, his Dragon-Tiger Arhat Strength punches surpassed these spirit bullets. This evidence suggested early Lingxi World blended cultivation with technology before some cataclysm erased both, resetting civilization.  

Their exploration concluded at a mural-covered wall with fragmented annotations—its surface so durable only Divine Transformation late-stage cultivators could have inscribed it.  

“This,” Jiang Li declared, “is Lingxi World’s history. The history of Lingxi Calendar year 4200.”