A cold silence instantly gripped the tower after Zhi Xuan’s sentence ended. Ji Haoxuan and the others stood stunned, feeling the weight of those words. To them, cultivation was a personal ascent toward the peak of heaven, but Zhi Xuan was speaking of the horrific foundation behind every grand glory.
"Senior... do you an that the glory of an Emperor is always built upon a field of willing corpses?" Ji Haoxuan asked, his voice trembling lowly among the tower pillars. "Is there no path more... righteous than that?"
Zhi Xuan shook his head slowly. "I do not know; the figure of a Great Emperor is not sothing that can be understood."
"The darkness is starting to creep in again," Zhi Xuan said, turning toward the outside of the tower where the two statues began to glow. "We will be safe, at least inside this tower for a while. You all can stabilize yourselves here."
The atmosphere inside the tower grew silent, accompanied only by steady breathing and the occasional soft moan from Wu Xingyan, who was still recovering from her illusory trauma. Outside, the underworld sky visible through the gap in the tower door darkened once more. The thick fog of darkness began to batter the tower gates, but the golden glow from the two guardian statues in front of the door created an impenetrable wall.
Zhi Xuan did not sit down. He walked toward the tower wall. His fingers brushed the dust off the wall and found an ancient script, spread out and faint, but what made his eyes narrow was a carving of an ancient bronze coffin that made his mories crawl.
The carving of the bronze coffin was not foreign. Its shape was like a casket, the surface of the carving decorated with chains, yet lacking the labyrinth-like palm prints. Beneath the coffin carving, there were rows of characters that seed to pulse following the heartbeat of the earth they had felt earlier.
"Why is this bronze coffin carving here?" Zhi Xuan thought. "The Great Saint once said that this bronze coffin is from the era of the Nine Heavens. But why does its carving appear here? That pagoda... that figure..."
Zhi Xuan stood frozen, his cold fingers tracing the rough lines of the coffin carving. "Great Saint, who exactly was the figure carrying the pagoda and the bronze coffin back then?"
"I do not know either; my mory finds no trace of that figure," Ruo Xianxue replied, her voice low. "I only know that what might be that bronze coffin is a casket I once saw originating from the era of the Nine Heavens."
Zhi Xuan fell silent for a mont, his divine sense creeping into the wall carving and reading the ancient script beneath the bronze carving and the warriors.
"Vra-Moya... Ish-Kala... Yan-Tu Ba-Ghara..." Zhi Xuan’s mind seed to falter, his tongue stiff. "Xu-Nihan... Arha-Xing... Ze-Mora... Vada-Sa... Ru-Vanhi... Ish-Nulla..."
Every syllable that ca out seed to carry the burden of ancient tis, making the air inside the tower as cold as ice. Zhi Xuan touched his finger to his forehead, his eyes staring at the wall script; the inherited mory of the Ancient Heavens allowed those characters to be read by him.
"Everything is like a dream, every step I take is crossing eight borders. Endless emptiness, I stand above the sea of stars and the river of stars, realizing an expanse that recognizes no clouds, but the river of stars and the universe as the sky."
The aura inside the ancient tower suddenly roared, not because of a gust of wind, but because of the resonance between the ancient script on the wall and the legacy of the Ancient Heavens residing within Zhi Xuan’s soul. A faint golden light crept from his fingertips, illuminating every curve of the bronze coffin carving that seed to begin breathing in the silence.
Zhi Xuan withdrew his fingers, his eyes sharpening as he tried to unravel the aning of those ancient words. "This is... a depiction of the Upper Realm?" Zhi Xuan thought. "The sea of stars as the sky... they are not talking about vast lands, but an endless void where the stars are the stepping stones."
Behind him, Ji Haoxuan and the others woke up from their ditation. The pressure emanating from the tower walls was so extraordinary that it made their spiritual essence churn violently. They saw Zhi Xuan standing in the middle of a storm of glowing characters, his black-and-white robe fluttering.
"Senior! What is happening?!" Ji Haoxuan cried; he tried to stand, but his knees felt heavy.
Zhi Xuan did not answer. His consciousness was now dragged deeper into the carving. As his eyes stared intently at the image of the ancient bronze coffin, the carving suddenly seed to lt. The chains wrapped around the bronze coffin in the image clattered.
DUM... DUM... DUM...
The earth’s pulse they had felt earlier was now centered exactly behind this wall. Zhi Xuan reached out his hand once more, this ti not just brushing it, but pressing his palm against the carving of the bronze coffin.
Instantly, the tower wall vibrated violently. Fine cracks appeared, not because of damage, but because an incredibly complex spatial formation was being forced to open. The light radiating from behind the cracks was blinding.
The wall shifted, revealing a straight and seemingly endless corridor. The light that had radiated was swallowed by darkness, leaving only a lightless void encompassing the hallway. Zhi Xuan turned, looking at Ji Haoxuan and the others.
"You do not need to follow if you are still shaken," Zhi Xuan said coldly. "The path ahead is full of danger, but staying in one place is not an option either."
Without waiting for an answer from the stunned juniors, Zhi Xuan stepped into the darkness of the corridor. His boots no longer made a tapping sound, as if every step was now muffled by absolute emptiness.
Ji Haoxuan stood up with difficulty and turned to his companions. "If we stay here, we are just waiting for death in the fog cycle. Following Senior is the only chance to see the end."
One by one, though with heavy steps and still-pale faces, they followed Zhi Xuan’s receding shadow. As the last body crossed the threshold of the wall, the secret door shifted shut, locking them in a suffocating silence.
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After walking through the corridor, they suddenly found themselves in a vast, circular room. Here, the air felt frozen, not by the cold of ice, but by the presence of an aura so majestic it made their souls want to kneel in pure submission.
Their divine senses felt narrow. Zhi Xuan stopped walking and raised his finger. A flicker of deep purple soul fire illuminated the circular room, but it instead revealed a sight that made Ji Haoxuan cover Ji Yuanyi’s mouth as she was about to scream.
In front of Zhi Xuan, only inches from his face, was the raga of a woman frozen in eternity. Yet her robe looked as if it had been worn yesterday; her hair hung down her back and over her beautiful shoulders. Her face radiated a majestic heavenly aura, her eyes tightly closed.
The woman was not standing, but floating an inch above the floor without moving at all. Both of her slender hands were folded in front of her stomach, radiating eternal elegance. Zhi Xuan froze; the purple fire at his fingertip swayed gently, reflecting the woman's long eyelashes against her marble-smooth cheeks.
On the woman's forehead was a small seal shaped like a blood-red lotus petal. Lu Qingyan stepped forward; her brow was furrowed in thought rather than fear, then her eyes widened for a mont as if seeing lost ancient majesty.
"This is... the Holy Maiden of Yao Chi?" Lu Qingyan whispered. "A majestic figure from Yao Gu seven thousand years ago, said to be the one who made the Heavenly Leaf Sacred Pavilion stand tall before the Ancient Clans. This... one could say she is the ancestor of the three current Holy Maidens of the Heavenly Leaf!"
Lu Qingyan trembled violently, her knees nearly touching the cold black floor. "But... isn't it said she transcended to the Upper Realm? Why... would such a majestic figure end up here? That lotus symbol on her forehead is exactly what is recorded in the ancient texts as the great figure of the Heavenly Leaf!"
"Xishui never ntioned anything about this, it's not like she spoke of the Holy Maiden of Yao Chi," Zhi Xuan thought, his jaw tight. "If this is a real raga... why does the aura radiating from this body keep shifting?"
Zhi Xuan narrowed his gaze, letting his Heavenly Eye dissect the layers upon layers of aura enveloping the woman’s body. Within his sight, the figure kept changing; it was no longer the image of the Holy Maiden of Yao Chi that Lu Qingyan had described, but a constantly shifting, unknown entity.
"It is not the raga of the holy woman from Yao Gu," Zhi Xuan whispered. "This is a fra ford from the echoes of ancient tis. The body keeps changing; this is the Art of Transformation."
Lu Qingyan jolted, her eyes that were previously full of adoration now turned into deep fear. She looked back at the woman, and sure enough, within a single breath, the majestic face shifted.
The sharp nose beca smaller, and the strong jawline softened into a rounded shape, as if thousands of souls and wills were fighting to occupy the sa vessel.
"Transforming Demon," Zhi Xuan murmured. He raised his palm and instantly his scythe appeared in his hand. "Vile and disgusting creature."
The woman who had been floating peacefully suddenly opened her eyes. There were no pupils, no color; only two pits of white light radiating eternal emptiness. Her ruby-red mouth opened, but what ca out was not a human voice, but the sound of bones grinding against each other.
KRAK! KRAK!
The beautiful body twisted unnaturally. Her slender fingers elongated, her nails turning into glossy black claws. Her heavenly robe tore from within, revealing grey scales growing rapidly over her marble skin.
"Cleave!" Instantly, sharp sword intent sliced through the air around the floating woman. Lu Qingyan shot backward, while Zhi Xuan swung his scythe and slashed at the woman’s fra.
TRANG!
The collision between Zhi Xuan’s giant scythe and the creature’s claws created sparks that illuminated the entire circular room. The once-graceful body now moved like a broken shadow, leaping through the air. Every ti Zhi Xuan’s scythe slashed, the creature seed to lt and rge with the darkness, only to reappear in an unexpected corner.
Ji Haoxuan moved his fingers, locking the surging and chaotic spiritual essence in the room, forming a circle that trapped the shadow of the woman’s body as it darted erratically. In front of them, the battle between Zhi Xuan and the Transforming Demon looked like a dance between death and the void.
"This creature... it does not only mimic the fra, it mimics the Intent," Zhi Xuan thought as he felt a sword aura similar to his own bounce off the creature's claws.
Zhi Xuan spun his scythe, creating a vortex of energy reinforced by Ji Haoxuan’s lock. Suddenly, the creature stopped moving. Its constantly shifting face abruptly solidified, turning into a figure Zhi Xuan knew very well—Zhu Qinglan, as she looked when she saw him off during the three-plain competition.
"Zhi Xuan... why do you hurt ?" The voice sounded so soft, piercing directly into his soul, bypassing all forms of divine defense.
Zhi Xuan’s steps faltered for a second. Although his soul was as hard as steel, seeing that face at such a close distance, in the darkest place of the underworld, still created a small ripple in the lake of his Dao Heart. However, just as that "Zhu Qinglan" lunged with claws hidden beneath her sleeves, Zhi Xuan’s sapphire eyes flashed coldly.
"You dare use her face again?" Zhi Xuan hissed, his voice low yet laden with frozen anger. "Even if Heaven itself took her likeness to stop , I would still strike it down."
His sapphire blue eyes flashed with reddish lightning, and imdiately sharp lines ford around him, cleaving and cutting everything he looked at. The Transforming Demon wearing Zhu Qinglan’s face shrieked shrilly, but Zhi Xuan grabbed the figure’s neck and brought his eyes close to the creature’s.
From the creature’s eyes, a figure in a cloak of darkness like the night surged forth, nine tails of darkness glowing like pillars of heaven. That figure did not see Zhi Xuan, but rather the holy form of Ruo Xianxue, forcing all Demons to see the origin of all Demon creation itself.
The Transforming Demon stood as if before a towering holy figure, and when that holy figure reached out her hand as if calling it ho, the Transforming Demon did not move; instead, its face was full of worship and it willingly surrendered itself.
"Return to ..." Ruo Xianxue’s voice flowed lowly, heard only by the Transforming Demon, causing its body to crumble before Zhi Xuan. "Worship ... I am the beginning of every form you take... beco a part of ..."
The Transforming Demon let out a low shriek like a hum of worship. Slowly, without resistance, making the sight haunting, the Transforming Demon lted and solidified into a crystal that fell into Zhi Xuan’s hand, dark purple in color and radiating a thick demonic aura.
Ji Haoxuan and the others were still frozen, their breath racing. The sight of a demon capable of mimicking Intent and form, then lting in absolute worship before Zhi Xuan, was sothing that transcended their understanding of cultivation.
"Vanished... just like that..." Lu Qingyan murmured, her voice still trembling. She stared at Zhi Xuan’s palm with a look of horror. "Senior, that creature... it nearly tore our souls apart just by its existence. How could it surrender so easily?"
"The Banners of Calamity did it," Zhi Xuan replied coldly, pivoting in his tranquility. "The Banners were forged by demons, so it is only right they return to where they belong."
The suffocating aura in the circular room imdiately eased. Ji Haoxuan stepped forward to speak to Zhi Xuan, trying to understand the figure who seed to stare at a demon until the demon simply dissolved. However, a blinding bright light began to crawl from beneath the circular room.
The bright light transported those present, leaving the circular room in silence. The light reappeared, revealing them now in the middle of three closed gates, yet the aura radiated from the three gates was pure.
The three giant gates standing before them looked as if they were carved from a single block of flawless heavenly jade. There were no complex carvings of dragons or phoenixes, only smooth surfaces radiating a milky white glow, yet the pure aura coming from the gaps of the gates was in such contrast to the foul underworld air they had breathed before.
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