If the barrier between the Three Thousand Worlds and the Ink Battlefield could be compared to a wall, then Buhui Pass was the sole connecting point on that wall.
This was also why Buhui Pass was known as the final line of defense for humanity. If the Ink Clan broke through this point, they could drive straight into the Three Thousand Worlds. Given the nature of the Ink Clan, if they were allowed to enter the Three Thousand Worlds, the result would be nothing short of mass slaughter and the destruction of entire realms.
Buhui Pass was the last line of defense, while the various other passes served as the outer perimeter.
If one stood at a sufficiently elevated vantage and connected all the passes together, it would become apparent that they formed a semicircle—an arc that curved over the barrier between the Three Thousand Worlds and the Ink Battlefield, with Buhui Pass at its center.
As long as the passes held, Buhui Pass would remain undisturbed. As long as Buhui Pass held, the Three Thousand Worlds would be safe.
This was precisely why the recapture of Dayan Pass had been a prerequisite for the expedition. With the Ink Clan in control of Dayan Pass, there was a breach in the entire defensive line. If Dayan was not reclaimed and humanity's army ventured out on their expedition, the Ink Clan could exploit that gap and strike straight for Buhui Pass.
Should that scenario come to pass, would humanity's army turn back to defend, or press forward with the expedition? It would leave them in an impossible dilemma.
To eliminate this threat, Dayan Pass had to be wrested from the Ink Clan's grasp. Fortunately, more than a century of tireless effort by the Dayan garrison, and the sacrifice of countless soldiers, had finally achieved exactly that.
There were no true cardinal directions in the vast cosmos—no fixed axis of east or west. The designations of Eastern Army, Southern Army, Western Army, and Northern Army among the various passes were merely convenient labels.
If one spoke of actual direction in the boundless void, there was only up and down, forward and back.
Behind every human pass lay Buhui Pass. It could be said that this final line of defense, personally guarded by the Dragon and Phoenix Clans, was in some sense humanity's greatest pillar of support.
Early on, when Yang Kai had learned that Buhui Pass was garrisoned by the Dragon and Phoenix Clans themselves, he had harbored some doubts.
The Sacred Spirits had always been proud—every last one of them. In over a thousand years of cultivation, he had seen ample proof of this.
And that pride was all the more pronounced in the Dragon and Phoenix Clans, who stood at the very apex even among the Sacred Spirits.
How could two such supreme Sacred Spirits willingly guard humanity's final line of defense? It could not be a matter of righteousness—there was no moral obligation between different races.
The only explanation was that the threat posed by the Ink Clan was simply too great. The Sacred Spirits understood the principle that when the lips are gone, the teeth grow cold. In the ancient era, the Dragon Emperor and Phoenix Empress had fused with the Great Dao itself to seal away the Ink-corrupted Colossus. How could their descendants dare disregard the sacrifices of their ancestors?
That, most likely, was the reason the Sacred Spirits had held their post at Buhui Pass for countless ages.
Were there other reasons? Yang Kai didn't know, nor was it something he needed to concern himself with.
Though the journey to Buhui Pass was somewhat hasty, it at least allowed him to fulfill a long-held desire—to see what the legendary Dragon Pool actually looked like.
He streaked through the void, his figure flickering and teleporting as the Laws of Space rippled around him.
Traveling from Dayan Pass to Buhui Pass could theoretically be done via the transmission array—quick and convenient. However, Dayan Pass had undergone a complete reorganization over the past two hundred years, consuming enormous quantities of resources. Now was a time for frugality, for stockpiling and conserving what little they had. Reluctantly, Yang Kai had no choice but to fly the entire way.
As the Old Ancestor had put it, he was proficient in the Laws of Space and had an inherent advantage in travel—there was no need to waste resources on him.
What could Yang Kai say to that? He could only obediently set out.
Before departing, he had given some brief instructions to the Chenxi team—nothing elaborate, merely stating that he was heading out on a mission.
Feng Ying had yet to emerge from her seclusion, which worried him slightly. Nearly two hundred years had passed since she had observed Xu Linggong's breakthrough to the Eighth Order. She had gained insights at that time and chosen to enter seclusion, so there shouldn't be any real problems.
But two hundred years without any movement was still somewhat surprising.
There was nothing anyone could do to help in such matters. On the early stages of the cultivation path, there were at least teachers and mentors to provide guidance. But at the level of the upper-grade Open Heaven, everything depended on one's own efforts.
Another's Dao was not necessarily suited to you.
An ordinary Seventh Order cultivator flying from Dayan Pass to Buhui Pass would need at least three or four years. Yang Kai made the journey in less than half a year.
The voyage was exceedingly tedious, for the void along the route was calm and uneventful, without so much as a ripple.
When an enormous parasol tree came into view before him, Yang Kai knew that Buhui Pass had arrived.
That parasol tree was the dwelling place of the Phoenix Clan—home to the legendary Phoenix Nest.
Yang Kai had always been curious about what the Phoenix Nest actually looked like. The Phoenix was such a noble Sacred Spirit—did they really build nests on a parasol tree like ordinary birds? That seemed rather beneath their dignity.
Or perhaps the Phoenix Nest was merely a name, and what it referred to was simply the Phoenix Clan's roost—which was the very parasol tree before him, born alongside heaven and earth, wreathed in eternal flame?
After a moment's thought, Yang Kai decided he was being nosy. He carried the Dragon Clan's primordial essence; if he was going to worry about something, it should be the Dragon Clan's affairs. Why concern himself with the Phoenix Clan?
The closer he drew, the more strongly his Dragon bloodline stirred within him, giving him a sensation akin to a wanderer returning home.
He knew it was the connection between his Dragon bloodline and the Dragon Pool that caused this—that this place was not truly his homeland.
And yet, that feeling was hard to shake. He experienced something like the trepidation of a prodigal son about to return home after many years away, unsure whether he had done well enough to face the inquiries of his elders.