The fall of Wuma Jiuxing and Motong sent shockwaves across Xinghuan Heaven, casting a bloody shadow over the bustling Linglong Assembly.
“When a god perishes, the sky for tens of thousands of li turns crimson, blood rain falls from the heavens, and every blade in the world wails in sorrow. Who could have imagined that the one to fall would be Wuma Jiuxing? A thousand years ago, he was invincible in the mortal realm!”
“Who on earth is the god-slayer?”
“Rumour has it that it was an elderly cultivator of unfathomable power, mysterious in origin and immeasurably profound in cultivation.”
…
“The Blade Venerable has finally been enraged. He has issued a divine decree: whoever kills that old man shall become his divine envoy.”
“The Blade Venerable is no ordinary existence. I wager even high gods will fight for the chance to claim that title. Just wait and see. Another war among gods is sure to erupt in Xinghuan Heaven soon.”
Zhang Ruochen walked along the main street as waves of conversation reached him from all directions.
Some discussed the Linglong Assembly five days hence, others spoke of the god-slaying incident.
Some praised the legends of peerless experts such as Shang Hong, Yu Taizhen, and Hai Shang Minggong, while others recounted the beauty of the various tower mistresses of the Twelve Towers of the Goddess.
The position of divine envoy to the Blade Venerable was naturally a tremendous lure.
Once one became the divine envoy of a god, within a certain star domain one could borrow that god’s power for one’s own use.
In other words, becoming the Blade Venerable’s envoy would allow one to wield a portion of his divine might. This temptation was considerable not only against gods of the Butian realm, but even against some great gods.
Moreover, should a divine envoy fall into mortal danger, the patron god could sense it and come to their rescue, provided the distance was not too great. If it was too far, even a god who wished to save them would be powerless, and divine power would likewise be unable to reach them.
Take Zhang Ruochen, for example. Although he was nominally the divine envoy of Goddess Tianmu, he could borrow none of her power from the Abyss of Darkness. By contrast, when he had served as divine envoy to the Moon Goddess, he could directly draw upon her divine strength.
Having already promised to meet Bai Qing’er, no matter how dangerous the situation, Zhang Ruochen still left Wuming Villa. He would not be frightened off by a mere Shang Hong.
After passing through street after street and exiting the western city gate, Zhang Ruochen headed straight towards the Yuhong Mountain Range three thousand li away.
He concealed his aura with powerful spiritual strength, appearing no different from an ordinary mortal. Even if he strode openly through the streets, ordinary gods would not sense him.
The Yuhong Mountain Range was the ancient range closest to First Goddess City. Stretching five thousand li from south to north, it formed a natural barrier against the boundless ocean to the west.
Because it bordered the ocean, the mountains were shrouded in mist and received abundant rainfall. Seven-coloured rainbows often arched across the forests and peaks.
Thus the name “Yuhong”, meaning Rain-Rainbow.
Being close to First Goddess City and situated at the edge of a divine vein, the mountains were rich in divine qi, making them an outstanding cultivation sanctuary. They had given birth to tree spirits, stone spirits, flower demons, and other such beings, and holy medicines grew in the deep valleys and abysses.
As the sun climbed higher, Zhang Ruochen ascended a lofty peak and finally beheld a desolate area within the range.
Amid the lush green mountains lay a patch of red earth. The air was grey and hazy, making it impossible to discern the spatial layout deep within. Along the edges were enormous craters dozens of li across, their origins unknown, shocking to behold.
Zhang Ruochen moved and appeared at the border of the red earth. Before him emerged powerful divine inscriptions.
These inscriptions were formless and invisible, fused with the rules of heaven and earth, perceptible only through spiritual strength.
“Worthily a great world that once produced a Heavenly Venerable. Extraordinary places abound.”
Zhang Ruochen did not deliberately touch the inscriptions. Relying on his spiritual strength and the power of the Heart of Truth, he sensed and avoided them as he ventured deeper into the red earth.
The ruined divine temple Bai Qing’er had mentioned should lie deep within this red wasteland.
The weather here was scorching, the air temperature exceeding five hundred degrees. An ordinary person stepping inside would feel as though they had leapt into a cauldron of boiling oil.
The deeper one went, the hotter it became.
Zhang Ruochen was acutely sensitive to spatial forces and noticed that the spatial rules of heaven and earth here were unusually active, showing clear signs of artificial alteration. There were traces of spatial reversal, spatial folding, spatial collapse, and more.
After walking for an unknown time, he arrived just before noon and saw a vast collapsed divine temple. Only a few dilapidated structures still stood.
Outside the temple grew dense thorny plants with broad green leaves that stood out starkly against the reddish-yellow ground.
Among the thorns stood row upon row of gravestones.
Each gravestone was cracked and weathered, the characters upon them long since illegible.
Of the temple gate, only two stone pillars and a crossbeam remained.
From the crossbeam hung numerous skeletons, their bones crystalline and translucent, unrotted after ten thousand years. They were the bones of great saints.
Long thorny vines coiled around the pillars, climbed the crossbeam, and suspended these skeletons. It was unclear whether the thorns had killed them or some other danger had.
Old Yellow Ox grew uneasy, pawing the ground with its hooves, unwilling to proceed.
“What is there to fear? I am here!”
Zhang Ruochen tugged the rope and stepped slowly towards the gate.
The surrounding thorns writhed like green serpents, dragging themselves across the ground and slowly closing in on him.
“Retreat at once, or I shall burn you all to ash.”
Zhang Ruochen released his divine majesty. Divine pressure erupted from his body, kicking up sand and stones. Instantly, the thorns, as though possessed of intelligence, rapidly withdrew into the graveyard and dared not bare their fangs again.
The moment he passed through the gate, Zhang Ruochen suddenly felt the world spin. Space violently shifted, as if trying to drag him deep into the earth or tear him to pieces.
Fortunately, his understanding of space was profound. Sensing the danger, he swiftly stepped back.
The skeletons on the crossbeam above began to sway, creaking ominously.
Zhang Ruochen approached the right-hand pillar and ran his fingers over its surface.
Whoosh!
Lines of spatial array inscriptions emerged upon the pillar.
“What profoundly sophisticated spatial arrays. Who set them?”
Zhang Ruochen studied them carefully, his expression growing increasingly astonished. He discovered that this was none other than the Xingmen Fukun Grand Array, one of the Nine Yin Evasion Arrays.
The Spatial-Temporal Secret Canon left by Saint Monk Xumi recorded both the Nine Yin Evasion Arrays and the Nine Yang Evasion Arrays.
These were divine arrays of spatial manipulation.
Surely Saint Monk Xumi himself had not set this array here?
Though the Xingmen Fukun Grand Array was only one of the Nine Yin Evasion Arrays, its power was immense, sufficient to trap and kill gods.
Zhang Ruochen had escaped easily because of his deep comprehension of space, his study of the Nine Yin Evasion Arrays, and the fact that the array had stood for many years, its inscriptions weakened.
While he examined the spatial array on the stone gate, noon arrived unnoticed.
The sun stood directly overhead, and all shadows vanished from the ground.
Rustling sounds rose from the thorn thickets.
Gravestones slowly lifted, the earth cracked, and grey death qi seeped out.
It was plainly high noon, when yang energy should be at its peak, yet the place turned eerie and cold. The temperature, previously over a thousand degrees, plummeted, sending chills down the spine.
From the collapsed ruins of the temple came a strange song, as though a young woman were singing. The voice was ethereal, illusory, deep, and uncanny, conjuring images of a hideous female ghost dancing within.
Zhang Ruochen had dealt with the Ghost tribe many times, yet even he could not suppress a shiver of dread.
He probed with spiritual strength, but the spatial array blocked him. Raising his voice, he called, “Lady Bai, is that you inside?”
There was no reply.
The singing grew clearer, carrying bewitching power. Mist gathered before Zhang Ruochen’s eyes.
“Thousand Stars Linked!”
“Thousand Stars Linked!”
…
A hoarse voice rose from beneath the earth, low and persistent, repeating those four words.
Old Yellow Ox trembled violently and suddenly spoke in human tongue: “Flee! Flee! Flee…”
Zhang Ruochen glanced at it in surprise, then peered into the ground with divine sight and sent his condensed spiritual voice downward. “What does ‘Thousand Stars Linked’ mean? Who are you?”
“Flee! Flee! Flee…”
Old Yellow Ox thrashed madly, whether from terror or excitement was unclear, but it could not break free from Zhang Ruochen’s grasp.
At that moment, some force triggered the divine inscriptions in the red earth.
Boom!
Far away, divine fire erupted from the ground, accompanied by powerful divine fluctuations.
“A god has intruded here.”
Zhang Ruochen’s gaze sharpened. Paying no further heed to the anomalies, he stepped back and concealed himself within the Xingmen Fukun Grand Array. By now, he understood the array thoroughly.
Moments later, four beams of powerful divine light streaked over and halted outside the temple gate.
They were the four gods of the Paradise Faction: Fourth Armor Blood Ancestor, Yan Shen, Kailan Feili, and Jialin Nan.
Zhang Ruochen had seen them before. They had followed behind Celestial Son Shang Hong, each radiating profound cultivation and majestic divine might, far beyond newly ascended gods.
Fourth Armor Blood Ancestor’s divine body was charred black, smoke still rising from his head.
Clearly, he had triggered the divine inscriptions earlier and suffered the divine fire’s assault.
“Why have they come here?”
A bad premonition rose in Zhang Ruochen’s heart.
The four gods surveyed their surroundings, as though searching for something.
“This ghostly place feels wrong. It is sinister, as if something is about to crawl out from below.”
“Do you hear that faint singing?”
“What is there to fear? We do not even fear Ghost gods. Why fear a few lonely souls and wild ghosts here?”
Yan Shen stepped beneath the gate, peering with divine sight into the collapsed temple. “Is the information reliable? Is that old fellow truly hiding here?”
“The information came directly from Bai Qing’er to the Celestial Son. How could it be false?” Jialin Nan, an angel god with handsome features, radiated gentle divine light from his white wings, purifying the surrounding grey death qi.
Fourth Armor Blood Ancestor laughed loudly. “Countless gods have gone to pay respects to Bai Qing’er, yet she met only the Celestial Son and even told him the old man’s hiding place. Clearly she hopes the Celestial Son will seize the Heavenly Venerable’s Treasure Gauze and take her as his wife.”
“The Celestial Son defeated Hai Shang Minggong, his cultivation surpasses all in this kalpa, and he is the grandson of Shang Tian. If I were Bai Qing’er, I would choose him too,” said Kailan Feili.
Yan Shen grew wary and released his divine realm world. “Everyone, be careful. The old man’s residual aura truly lingers here. He may well be hiding nearby.”
