Deep beneath the earth, the air moved with extreme slowness, so thin it could barely be breathed, and a great many corpses lay here—apparently suffocated to death—frozen in every posture of desperate struggle.
People had once lived in this underground ruin, and the sudden lack of air had killed the vast majority of them on the spot.
These bodies, already rotted down to skeletons, were very old, but along both sides of the way there were others that were plainly recent.
Some wore armor, some only plain clothes, some professional exploration gear, and around them were clear marks of fighting.
Some had died in infighting; some seemed to have battled invisible monsters and finally collapsed from exhaustion.
Some of the clothing and equipment on these bodies was exactly the same as that on the corpses in the ruins cave—clearly the same group of people.
"Be careful. Don't look back, and don't walk back."
Just as An Jing was studying the corpses closely, the Sword Spirit suddenly spoke, grave: "There's a rather powerful illusion formation here, and it's still operating!"
"Any intruder who comes without permission, if their will is not firm, will be dragged into an inner realm of illusions, plagued by inner demons, and then turn on one another or fight non-existent heart-images until their strength is spent."
"The formation has no effect on those who leave, so as long as you keep walking forward, there's no problem."
"Understood." Raising his brows, An Jing gave a slight nod. Ever since he had shattered the Extramundane Demon at the sacrificial rite, he no longer feared this kind of heart-image illusion, but there was no sense in wasting strength for nothing—let alone that he had never meant to turn back.
Only... why was there an illusion formation here, keeping people from exploring the ruins cave? Who had set it? And to what end?
An Jing walked on, looking at the corpses, and something became clear to him: "Those explorers who were wiped out in the ruins cave must have endured the torment of illusions the whole way, minds and spirits worn to exhaustion—that's why the Vine Extramundane Demon's ambush succeeded."
"Such perfect coordination. Did that monster really appear naturally?"
He couldn't work it out, but there was no need to. An Jing shook his head slightly. "Just as well that I didn't go deeper. This ruin is very dangerous. Better to leave sooner."
He settled his mind and pressed on.
All along the way the ground was strewn with bones; cold, damp vapor dripped down without pause, and the underground cave was like the shadowed capital of the underworld—yet An Jing's heart rate stayed even, without a trace of fear or hesitation.
He had seen a hell that truly frightened him, and he had faced it head-on. Since then, nothing external could shake his mind.
An Jing walked on in silence, with only his footsteps and his slow, heavy heartbeat.
Until, at last.
The cave's exit.
After several hours of walking without pause, at the end of the cave—which had wound and coiled for who knew how long—a bright light appeared before An Jing's eyes. He blinked, startled for a moment, then let his expression ease. "Finally."
He let out a breath, yet stopped where he stood. He breathed deeply, adjusted his state, and only after making sure he could enter combat at any moment did he cautiously conceal his aura and slowly draw near to the light—the cave's exit.
That caution silenced the Sword Spirit, who had been about to offer a warning, and a hint of approval showed instead.
At the mouth of the cave there was no other life—no lurking beast, no human camp.
Aura hidden, An Jing narrowed his eyes and slowly walked out of the cave, into the light.
The entrance to the ruins cave was no round opening or arched doorway. Quite the opposite: it ran several dozen meters long but stood less than three meters high—it was a fissure, a crack in the flank of the mountains.
As though the lingering aftermath of a sword mark had fallen from some far-off point, piercing the mountain and reaching straight down to the underground water veins deep in the earth... After that, the water veins had gradually dried, becoming winding underground corridors and broad hollows, and the people who found this place had raised within them a hidden, ancient, magnificent hall, where they lived and rested.
Having walked out of the cave, An Jing stood amid the mountains' embrace. From where he stood, halfway up the slope, he could gaze out over the broad wilderness not far off, and the gray-black overcast clouds that shrouded the whole vault of the sky.
Clouds and mountains, wind and sand. On the desolate wilderness there were only scattered patches of green and clumps of trees; a turbid great river wound along the course of the hills, flowing from deep within the mountains into the far end of the wilderness. Along its banks there seemed to be some human tribes—or perhaps the ruins of an ancient town.
A rough wind laden with sand beat against his face, and the desolate air with its rust-tinged smell brought the youth fully awake.
"So this is... another world?"
What a barren land.
Eyes wide, An Jing gazed out over the boundless wilderness. Looking back, he saw an endless range of towering, heaving peaks; looking forward, at the far end of the wilderness, there seemed to be a vast, mostly black, majestic shadow that rose straight into the sky, overspreading the dark clouds, with scattered lights glimmering inside it.
Was that... a city?
An Jing narrowed his eyes. He faintly sensed that the black shadow was not a distant mountain range at all, but something man-made—too regular to be natural.
But could any man-made thing truly be so towering and magnificent, reaching even into the clouds?
He had no time to think it through.
Because the Sword Spirit's warning had already sounded in his Divine Sea.
"An Jing!" it cried, with a rare note of astonishment. "Look up. Look overhead!"
Then An Jing raised his head.
Before he saw anything, he first heard wave upon wave of a deep humming. It was like the moaning drone of some colossal beast—a great whale of the sea, or a Kunpeng—sounding from behind the dark clouds, high above, echoing between heaven and earth.
An Jing's hand clenched instinctively—the Blood Killing Aura sword condensed at his will, for he dimly sensed an ultimate danger, and the premonition of meeting something unprecedented and enormous put him on guard by instinct.
A fierce wind blew down from the vault of heaven, brushing An Jing's face, and the thick, solid cloud wall, like a rampart, split apart layer by layer, appearing with incomparably bright spirit light at the very top of the sky.
Rays of light fell, like little suns.
Following the light, an enormous immortal dao warship, vast as a walled city, broke through the dark clouds and descended into this world.
It was as massive as a mountain, its outline smooth as a shuttle, and across the surface of the blue-gray hull spread layer upon layer of root-like patterns, making it seem both mysterious and solid.
Glowing faintly, row after row of orderly luminous formation patterns flickered in sequence like breathing, taking in and giving out spirit qi, loosing their own dazzling radiance between heaven and earth and raising a long whale-song chant.
"This is..."
In the wind and the song, An Jing dispersed the fiend sword in his hand and took an unconscious step forward, his eyes filled with disbelief.
He raised his head and stared blankly at the colossus in the sky. "A warship?"
"An immortal dao warship?!"
"This place, this place—what kind of world is this?!"
Chapter 59