Chapter 712: Dual Masters Transmitting Technique (Thanks to 'Change name for a hundred bucks')

Chapter 712: Dual Masters Bestow Their Legacy

(Thanks to “Changing My Name Costs a Hundred Bucks” for the Alliance Patron donation)

“Master…”

Staring at the Magnetic Pole Sovereign and Greenwood Sovereign before him, Zhang Yu found himself momentarily at a loss for words.

The Magnetic Pole Sovereign turned to Greenwood and said, “Old Gao, let me speak with Zhang Yu alone for a moment.”

Greenwood Sovereign nodded. In the next instant, his figure flickered like light and vanished from their sight.

Only then did the Magnetic Pole Sovereign turn fully toward Zhang Yu and sigh. “Zhang Yu, to be honest—when you first came seeking me as your master, I never imagined I’d actually take on a disciple like you.”

Zhang Yu blinked in slight surprise, recalling that first encounter: the Magnetic Pole Sovereign’s aloof, dismissive demeanor.

“At that time,” the sovereign continued, “you were just another schemer in my eyes—someone hoping to latch onto the Artificer Division through the backdoor of Civil Engineering, chasing shortcuts up the path of immortality.”

“I’ve seen far too many like you over the years. After all, this world is what it is: so long as one climbs the Immortal Path, nothing else matters. Morality? Conviction? Those have long since twisted beyond recognition.”

“In Kunxu, money is everything. The Immortal Path is the very foundation of existence. No matter how bloody, base, or filthy the means of earning wealth may be, the end result is always reverence, admiration—even awe—from everyone.”

“Whether it’s the sect elders above, former university presidents, or even cultivators like me who’ve reached Nascent Soul—it’s all the same. We’re all just ruthless opportunists, willing to do anything for profit and asset growth.”

“Perhaps… that’s why I disliked you back then. Maybe I saw in you a reflection of my younger self.”

Gazing at his master’s wistful expression, Zhang Yu said softly, “Master… deep down, you never truly liked acting this way, did you?”

“You’re not like those old presidents. You trusted both me and Master Gao. You fought alongside us. You never sold us out for spirit coins, nor hoarded my technological breakthroughs for yourself…”

The Magnetic Pole Sovereign chuckled ruefully. “That’s precisely my failure. I sought the peak of the Immortal Path—I cast aside dignity, righteousness, and belief—but in the end, I couldn’t abandon everything completely.”

“So despite my talent, despite once having real opportunities to rise, I was still cast out of the sect.”

“And even after pouring my heart and soul into everything—if not for this great upheaval reshaping heaven and earth—I’d never have become president of Wanfa.”

He lifted his gaze toward the fourth and fifth layers of Kunxu hanging in the sky above, then murmured, “Maybe… I simply lack true devotion to the Dao.”

Watching his master’s retreating silhouette, Zhang Yu said quietly, “Only the strong can follow the dictates of their hearts. If not for impossibility, who wouldn’t wish to uphold their convictions? Who would willingly betray their own choices?”

“Master… the very fact that you’ve made these choices now proves your strength—not just in power, but in character and will.”

“Perhaps that’s why you could trust Master Gao and me… and why we could trust you in return.”

The Magnetic Pole Sovereign smiled faintly and turned back to face Zhang Yu. “I’d resolved long ago never to take another disciple like you within Kunxu. I wanted only to climb the Immortal Path single-mindedly—to reach the highest peak this life could offer.”

“But fate is strange. Destiny always toys with us in ways we never expect.”

“It made me, in this most heartless realm of Kunxu, remember what it means to be master and disciple.”

“But you’re right, Zhang Yu. In the end, this is my choice. My strength brought me here—and my strength lets me choose this path…”

As he spoke, the Magnetic Pole Sovereign extended a finger and gently pressed it against Zhang Yu’s forehead.

Instantly, torrents of data flooded Zhang Yu’s vision—bank accounts, artifact permissions, spirit-automaton contacts… countless records of their communications, meetings, spatial-tech collaborations, even personal credentials belonging to the sovereign himself.

“This battle,” the Magnetic Pole Sovereign said, “may sever networks, cut off contact, leave me unable to manage affairs at Wanfa.”

“So my assets there—I entrust them to you temporarily.”

“And these documents prove that the spatial technologies unveiled at past conferences were entirely your creations.”

Zhang Yu’s eyes narrowed. “Master… won’t you need these for the final battle?”

Having finished transmitting everything, the Magnetic Pole Sovereign flicked his fingertip lightly against Zhang Yu’s brow and grinned. “Everything I need for the fight is already prepared. What I’m leaving you is just scraps—hardly worth your worry.”

With that, he summoned Greenwood Sovereign back. “You had something to say to him too, didn’t you? Talk. I’ll go ahead.”

As the Magnetic Pole Sovereign vanished, Greenwood Sovereign looked at Zhang Yu and sighed. “Time flies… you’re already a second-year graduate student.”

“Who could have foreseen that the unremarkable boy laboring on construction sites would become the strongest undergraduate—and now the pivotal force behind spatial technology’s advancement?”

His gaze drifted toward the distant construction grounds. “All these years, I’ve worked day and night in Civil Engineering, watching generation after generation pour their blood and sweat into raising campus layer upon layer.”

“I watched the very division that built this university—laying its unshakable foundations—sink to the bottom, becoming mere fodder for Finance, a subordinate to Artificers… But such is the tide of Kunxu. I could only flow with it.”

“Because I was too weak. Someone as powerless as me… could only submit to Kunxu’s currents.”

“Master,” Zhang Yu said firmly, “I… don’t think you’re weak at all.”

He met Greenwood Sovereign’s eyes earnestly. “Without your guidance and trust, I’d never have reached where I am today—never influenced the current war, never shaken the Ten Great Academies so profoundly.”

“It was you who shaped me, Master. And through me, you’ve shaped the academies.”

“To have kept even a sliver of faith in students—to have trusted both me and Master Ci throughout your time at Wanfa, in Civil Engineering… Master Gao, I’ve always believed you were strong. I’ve always admired you.”

Looking at Greenwood Sovereign, Zhang Yu thought of his own journey—the Feathered Tome, the Chain-Method Diagrams, the Dao-Seed Codex… Without these, could he have risen so high? Could he have preserved even a fragment of his ideals?

He had no confidence whatsoever.

Thus, gazing at Greenwood Sovereign now, Zhang Yu felt not an ounce of pity—because even in the smallest measure, this man had already accomplished what countless cultivators in Kunxu never could.

Sensing Zhang Yu’s sincerity, Greenwood Sovereign gave a soft laugh. “Strong? Even after ascending to Nascent Soul, many still don’t see me that way…”

“They know you’d never abuse your power,” Zhang Yu replied. “They know that even with wealth and strength, you’d never resort to bloody, despicable tactics against others.”

“And in Kunxu, such conduct earns not respect—but scorn and contempt.”

Memories flashed through Greenwood Sovereign’s eyes. He shook his head. “Zhang Yu, you truly are different. It’s astonishing—a student your age speaking such words.”

“In any other academy, under any other master, you’d be called a fool, deemed lacking in Immortal potential.”

“But I like what you say. Even knowing full well it’s ‘wrong’ by this world’s standards… I still like it.”

“Perhaps that’s why we can trust each other.”

Greenwood Sovereign reached out and ruffled Zhang Yu’s hair. In the next moment, a surge of “power” flowed from his body into Zhang Yu’s—not cultivation energy, but documents.

Share transfers. Voting rights assignments. One by one, these papers—each a form of real power in modern Kunxu—streamed into Zhang Yu, especially those tied to companies under Grand Void Cloud Treasury, representing the strongest faction among the Ten Academies.

“Master!” Zhang Yu exclaimed, stunned. “Why give me all this?”

Greenwood Sovereign chuckled warmly. “Zhang Yu, you understand: this war against the Righteousness Alliance leaves no room for retreat. It’s life or death.”

“During the battle, neither Ci nor I can oversee Wanfa, the Research Society, or Grand Void Cloud Treasury.”

“But you can. And truthfully, all this belongs to you anyway. I’m merely returning what’s yours.”

He cut off Zhang Yu’s protest before it began. “This final clash hinges not only on our Nascent Soul prowess and resolve—but crucially, on mastery and application of spatial technology.”

“And you are the key to it all.”

“Your role is here—managing Grand Void Cloud Treasury, advancing spatial tech, producing more artifacts. That is how you best aid us.”

Zhang Yu knew he was right. Using immortal-tech to sway the battlefield, to influence Nascent Soul combat—that was precisely his duty now.

He nodded firmly. “I understand, Master.”

Greenwood Sovereign’s eyes shone with quiet pride. “Zhang Yu, I believe in you. One day, you’ll become someone even I must look up to.”

“So while we’re gone… promise me—you’ll cultivate relentlessly. Spare no effort to grow stronger.”

Zhang Yu bowed his head deeply. “I will, Master. I’ll push myself to the limit—and I’ll help you win this war.”

Greenwood Sovereign smiled gently, then summoned the Magnetic Pole Sovereign back.

In one swift motion, the Magnetic Pole Sovereign seized Zhang Yu’s hand and pulled him upward—toward the vast emptiness above the Great Hollow.

Only the sound of Ciji Shenjun’s long, ringing laughter filled the air as he shot skyward, crying, “Come, Zhang Yu—see us off.”

(End of chapter)