Chapter 140

Upgrading the puppets was inevitable.

The current Twelve Divine Generals only possessed strength at the early Foundation Establishment stage. This was sufficient for dealing with cultivators from Changshou Sect and Green Willow Sect—but when facing stronger opponents, they would quickly be exposed and beaten down.

Yet Han Luo needed them to do much more: test new divine abilities, gather intelligence, run errands, and perform various other tasks. Given their importance, he was determined to refine them further.

At present, the materials he had on hand weren’t exactly rare, but more than adequate—especially the ten-thousand-year Nether Tree branches. Using these as the skeletal core, combined with other materials, would improve the puppets by an entire tier.

Han Luo retrieved a deep-black branch from his copper ring. With his current strength, he couldn’t damage the main body of the Nether Tree, let alone extract any core essence. He had only managed to collect a few branches—but even these were tougher and more spiritual than most magic treasures.

Nether Tree is also known as Ming Tree.

He calmed his mind, transformed his qi into a carving blade—normal tools couldn’t carve the Nether Tree’s wood—and began shaping the components with great care.

Having already crafted the first Twelve Divine Generals, he proceeded smoothly this time, though the tougher material meant it took longer.

Three days later, after meticulous effort, the core components for a new puppet were complete.

This was another Mao Tu puppet. Compared to the previous version, this one was more refined. Its signature long legs were better proportioned and more aesthetically pleasing, while its upper body had also been enhanced. The overall result was quite eye-catching.

Moreover, Han Luo had added a pair of highly distinctive rabbit ears. On the surface, they were simply cute, but in truth, they were powerful offensive weapons—capable of firing beams, emitting sonic waves, spraying flames and water, and more than a dozen other functions.

Such a cute appearance would easily lower opponents’ guard—precisely the effect Han Luo intended.

In addition, he incorporated several new design elements that he planned to test later.

Overall, this upgraded Mao Tu now had combat strength equivalent to a mid-Foundation Establishment cultivator.

He used a sound transmission stone to recall the original Mao Tu from the field, then transferred its soul array into the new body.

"How does it feel?" Han Luo asked as Mao Tu adjusted to its new form.

"Reporting, Master—I feel much stronger."

"Of course," Han Luo pushed his glasses up.
"This new body uses Nether Tree branches as the skeleton, reinforced with spirit iron and rare spiritual woods. It’s my finest creation to date. I’ve also added several new elements—you’ll discover them once the upgrades are complete."

He was very satisfied with Mao Tu’s new form—it was exactly his type.

"Ready for testing?"

"Of course."

Han Luo tossed Mao Tu into his Ten Directions World for full-range testing. A new body required time to adjust.

Inside the Ten Directions World, Mao Tu moved gracefully, battling dozens of qi-formed enemies at the Foundation Establishment stage.

These enemies represented various elemental types, ensuring that every strength and weakness could be thoroughly evaluated.

For close combat, Mao Tu relied on its signature leg techniques. Its powerful long legs delivered both elegance and devastating force.

For ranged attacks, it used moon-themed spells—while not absolute top-tier, these attacks were well above average.

After two hours of testing, Han Luo nodded in approval.

The new Mao Tu had reached about 25% of his own strength, a full 5% improvement over the previous version.

Satisfied, he didn’t immediately recall it. Instead, after recharging its qi, he ordered further testing.

"Alright—show me your new abilities."

He adjusted his glasses for maximum resolution, determined not to miss any details.

Soon, a powerful opponent appeared.

Instead of its usual techniques, Mao Tu shifted with mechanical sounds.

In an instant, it transformed from a long-legged beauty into a massive, imposing Mao Tu beast.

Gone was the cuteness; this form was distinctly terrifying.

The beast opened its mouth wide. Within, a brilliant white light gathered—then burst forth.

"Divine General Flash: Moonlight!"

The piercing beam instantly annihilated all mid-Foundation Establishment enemies. Its destructive power was astonishing.

Of course, such force came at a price.

After reverting to its normal form, Mao Tu showed no outward strain, but Han Luo could sense that its qi reserves had been more than halved.

Observing the entire process, Han Luo nodded again.

The inspiration for this transformation came from countless anime heroes—shouting louder, transforming more grandly, fighting harder after each setback.

Mao Tu followed the same logic: when normal attacks failed, it would transform. In this state, it could wield 30% of Han Luo’s strength—but only for two strikes. If victory wasn’t achieved within those two attacks, its qi would be depleted.

And without qi, a puppet was nothing more than deadwood.

Unfortunately, Han Luo sighed—though effective, the cores of the Twelve Divine Generals remained top-grade spirit stones. With better materials, their strength could climb another level.

But such materials weren’t available on Luoxian Mountain. He would have to venture to special regions to find them.

His plan was to finish upgrading all Twelve Divine Generals, then send them out to participate in the Eastern Domain’s youth competitions.

First, this would give them valuable combat experience. Only through battle could they evolve—and perhaps even attain legendary "alternative life" forms.

Second, it would allow them to seek out suitable core materials on their own. If they succeeded, excellent. If not, the process itself would be worthwhile training.

Third, Han Luo needed intelligence—the more detailed and comprehensive the better.

The Eastern Domain was a chaotic place. Whether one liked it or not, sooner or later one would get involved.

Luoxian Sect was special—but it was often precisely such "special" sects that attracted disaster.

Better to be prepared than to regret it later.

In particular, he wanted to monitor the current generation’s rising talents. They were his peers—and sooner or later, their paths might cross. Knowing their abilities in advance would ensure he wasn’t caught off guard.

He wasn’t fond of fighting—but no one liked losing. And when the time came, it wasn’t as if he could just call a timeout and say, "Hang on—I need to go investigate your abilities first."

Planning ahead was always wise. The sooner he started, the better prepared he’d be.