"Someone is coming out of the lightning!"
"Is that really a person? Am I seeing things?"
"Impossible!"
...
Cries of shock broke out across the treasure ships.
Among the people aboard, quite a few had witnessed Su Zinan opening Wuwang Hall. Having seen both firsthand, they could feel that this thunderous upheaval was even more terrifying than the gray tide had been back then.
Any random bolt of lightning was enough to blast them into dust.
Fortunately, this was occurring over the open ocean. Had it been on land, the mountains beneath the lightning would have been riddled with holes and utterly collapsed by now.
What kind of person could survive in such lightning?
The roar of wind and waves vanished, completely drowned out by thunder. It seemed as though a vortex of lightning had opened in the heavens, showering down continuous, blinding arcs that grew denser by the second. Soon, the sea of lightning began expanding outward.
"Quick! Flee!"
Someone shrieked in terror.
As the lightning drew near, it brought the stench of death.
Several treasure ships fled in panic, opening their talismanic formations to full power. Buffeted by rain and tempest, they wove between towering waves in a desperate flight for their lives.
None of these were mortal merchant vessels. All were operated by cultivators, and the treasure ships were of decent quality, so none had yet capsized or been swallowed by the monstrous waves.
However, one ship was too close to the tempest. Its speed could not outrun the lightning's expansion, and it was swallowed by countless flashing arcs.
There were no screams.
Not even the sound of the ship's protective barrier shattering could be heard.
When the others looked back, all they saw was a blinding expanse of silver light. In the blink of an eye, that treasure ship had vanished into thin air.
No one on board escaped; all perished alongside their vessel.
And that ship had been overseen by a Core Formation cultivator!
Panic seized everyone.
At this moment, not an ounce of joy remained. Even if Wuwang Hall had truly appeared, the place was simply too terrifying—even Nascent Soul cultivators would be doomed.
Focused entirely on fleeing for their lives, no one had the luxury to watch the sky.
The celestial upheaval was only beginning. Within the lightning, thunderous power accumulated to a staggering degree, coalescing into a silvery-white ring of lightning. Both inside and outside the ring surged with violent electric arcs.
Outside the ring lay raging winds, colossal waves, and the boundless sea.
Inside the ring, it connected to another space entirely.
That realm was suffused with an aura of destruction. The lightning never ceased, its glare so piercing that nothing within could be seen clearly.
Only in the rare pauses between bolts could a fleeting glimpse of the space's deeper reaches be caught.
There, undulating mountains rose beneath a forest of ancient halls.
One could imagine that it had once possessed the grandeur of an immortal abode.
Now, all that splendor was ravaged by lightning, reduced to an abyss of thunder. Even the surviving ancient restrictions and immortal formations teetered on the verge of collapse.
Aside from lightning, wave upon wave of the gray tide swept through heaven and earth.
Yet in such a hellish environment, living beings actually existed—and more than one!
Just inside the ring of lightning, two figures stood suspended in the void, one on the left and one on the right.
They were the ones seen by the people aboard the treasure ships.
Shrouded in lightning, their true features were obscured, resembling two humanoid masses of lightning. Enduring the electric bolts and the gray tide, they surged outward against immense resistance.
Their goal was to breach the ring and escape this space!
Just then, amid the earth-shattering thunder, the sounds of chanting and a shrill screech rang out. Neither sound was particularly loud, yet the roar of thunder could not drown them out.
The chanting came from the figure on the left.
As time passed, the chanting grew increasingly resolute. The lightning around the figure was gradually supplanted from the inside out by radiant golden Buddhist light.
The screech came from the figure on the right. From within the lightning, an azure radiance burst forth like a sharp azure sword piercing the brilliance.
Combining their might, the two unleashed their formidable power. Buddhist light and azure radiance erupted simultaneously, thrusting into the ring of lightning.
Boom!
The ring blazed with blinding intensity, then abruptly dimmed and fractured with a sharp crack.
Seizing the moment, the two burst through the ring in one go and returned to the mortal world. Transforming into two streaks of light—one gold, one azure—they shot beyond the perimeter of the lightning in an instant.
Once they escaped, the lightning outside did not retreat into the ring. Instead, its fury grew even more terrifying. The fractured ring showed no sign of mending, revealing clear instability.
The ring shattered into several segments. Rather than reconverging, the fragments drifted apart and began expanding.
From the fractures, an even more violent surge of thunderous power spilled outward, bringing doom to the entire sea.
Yet the most violent upheaval took place within the ring.
As the ring tore apart, the space inside seemed to lose some binding restriction, slowly manifesting into the mortal realm. At the same time, it triggered spatial tremors that brought about an even more astonishing celestial phenomenon.
Sensing something, the cultivators fleeing aboard their treasure ships turned their heads one after another, struck dumb by the sight in the sky.
A peerless immortal abode faintly appeared in midair.
Neither touching heaven nor anchored to earth, it slowly grew out of the void.
Mountains crouched like true dragons, revealing the tip of an iceberg as ancient halls and immortal residences emerged.
"Wuwang Hall!"
Everyone was dumbfounded.
Nowhere else could possess such grandeur.
Both the Daoist and Buddhist sects, as well as Su Zinan, had opened Wuwang Hall before, but had only ever seen fragments. Now, they were witnessing the true visage of this ancient immortal sect with their own eyes!
Light from ancient restrictions flashed incessantly across Wuwang Hall.
Under the relentless pounding of the thunderous power and the gray tide, those restriction lights went dark one by one. Each extinguished light meant another immortal hall had been destroyed.
Wuwang Hall had already been riddled with damage, little better than a ruin on the brink of annihilation.
Now things were worse. As the last surviving ancient halls fell to ruin, the mountain itself began to crumble, and soon the entire immortal abode followed!
Before everyone's watchful eyes, from its emergence to its destruction, barely a dozen breaths elapsed.
The space was filled with lightning and the gray tide, which continued grinding the remnants to dust until the immortal abode was reduced to nothingness.
The two figures who had escaped with their lives gazed back at the scene behind them, falling silent for a long time.
One of them was an old monk with white brows and a white beard.
His face was lined with wrinkles, and he wore a worn kasaya while holding prayer beads. He appeared to be an octogenarian, yet his eyes were exceptionally bright, capable of peering into people's hearts.
"Amitabha," the old monk murmured, placing one palm before him in salute as he watched the immortal abode perish.
Beside him stood an enchantingly beautiful woman.
She possessed a voluptuous figure and an exquisite face. Her eyes were limpid as water, capable of intoxicating anyone with a single glance. Every gesture she made exuded innate charm, completely unforced and natural.
She was clearly not human. Three fluffy fox tails grew from behind her, yet they seemed not at all out of place, only lending her an exotic allure.
"Wuwang Hall is completely gone. What a pity for the treasures inside, including several important relics of my clan that we couldn't retrieve," the woman remarked with a half-sigh, half-pout, her voice equally captivating.
Unmoved by her beauty, the old monk looked out at the familiar world and sighed. "I never expected to be trapped in Wuwang Hall for three hundred years! No wonder Old Demon Lu hesitated repeatedly after finding Wuwang Hall back then, ultimately choosing not to enter the core. It is fortunate that you aided me with that supreme treasure, Fellow Daoist, or my tribulation in Wuwang Hall would have ended in disaster!"
"We're grasshoppers tied to the same string. This Queen had to look out for herself as well."
"Even so, it was this poor monk who burdened you," the old monk said sincerely.
The woman crossed her arms beneath her full bosom and said languidly, "You can't take all the blame, old monk. Who could have foreseen the demonic voice of the Heavenly Dao suddenly appearing and catching us off guard, leaving us both heavily injured? Otherwise, even if the two of us couldn't break the core ancient restriction together, we wouldn't have been trapped in Wuwang Hall for three hundred years..."
With that, she surveyed their surroundings, her tone turning grave. "The demonic voice of the Heavenly Dao hasn't disappeared. As expected, it wasn't the power of Wuwang Hall—it's a celestial upheaval!"
"The demonic voice of the Heavenly Dao!"
The old monk murmured the words like someone talking in their sleep. His placid expression rippled as he glanced toward the South Sea. "Back then, the South Sea Immortal Palace rose and ascended. Fellow Daoist Danyu had ventured too deep and failed to withdraw in time, getting swept away with the palace. This poor monk rejoiced at having judged the moment wisely, never imagining the palace would trigger a celestial upheaval, turning us into trapped beasts in the mortal realm... That might have been the last chance for ascension."
"Was it truly ascension?"
The woman looked unconvinced. "Who knows where that old ox-nosed Daoist was taken, or whether he's dead or alive! Old Demon Lu had all the luck, departing for Guixu before the upheaval. He has probably found the Gate of the Beacon and avoided this calamity entirely."
"Whether this is truly an upheaval in the Heavenly Dao remains unknown. It is only our speculation, and it still requires verification," the old monk said cautiously.
"What is there to verify? Won't we know just by looking at them?"
The woman pointed toward the sea, selecting one of the treasure ships, and crooked her fair finger slightly.
The treasure ship was currently battling the waves, struggling to flee.
Suddenly, the water beneath the hull surged violently, erupting into a colossal water spout that lifted the entire vessel off the sea and into the sky.
In the end, the ship was encased within a water bubble and floated before the two.
Caught off guard by the abrupt shift, the cultivators in the cabin had no idea what was happening. Filled with doubt and fear, they rushed onto the deck to see, only to freeze on the spot, their eyes glazing over.
Men and women alike saw not the old monk, but only the woman.
Her fox tails swayed gently, the fur at their tips trembling in a way that seemed to pluck at their hearts, filling them with an unbearable, intoxicating itch.
"Late Core Formation stage," the woman said, casting a glance at a scholar in white.
The mental fortitude the scholar took pride in crumbled under that single look. His face flushed bright red, and only one thought occupied his mind—she looked at me!
"He isn't affected by the demonic voice of the Heavenly Dao, and the same is most likely true for Nascent Soul cultivators. Only Deity Transformation cultivators like us, capable of sensing the heavenly mechanisms, can 'hear' the demonic voice of the Heavenly Dao!"
The woman fumed. "From the looks of it, this upheaval isn't confined to Zhongzhou; it likely spans the entire realm! Even if it isn't a natural shift in this realm's Heavenly Dao, but someone manipulating it from behind the scenes, what difference does such terrifying divine ability make to us? As long as this demonic voice doesn't fade, reaching Guixu will be a challenge, let alone ascension!"
She ground her teeth. "Without becoming immortals, you and I are mere ants after all!"
The old monk remained silent for a moment, then said, "There is a difference after all. If it is not a shift in the Heavenly Dao, perhaps one day the demonic voice will cease its endless madness, regain clarity, and become open to communication, rather than continuously assaulting our minds. And if this upheaval was triggered by the immortal palace's ascension, investigating the South Sea Immortal Palace might yield answers."
"I recall you saying that Wuwang Hall was the first recorded force to control the South Sea Immortal Palace. Which faction came after?"
"After tensions between humans and demons erupted in Wuwang Hall, leading to a bitter civil war and its downfall, the South Sea Immortal Palace remained masterless for a time until the Wuxiang Immortal Sect rose in the Southern Frontier. We can only begin with the Wuxiang Immortal Sect..." The old monk knew these matters intimately and recounted each faction that had held sway over the palace through the ages.
The woman sneered. "Wasn't the Wuxiang Immortal Sect divided up by you people?"
Seeming not to notice her mockery, the old monk continued, "The calamity of the Wuxiang Immortal Sect began with a demonic turmoil, when a vicious ancient demon was released from the palace. That ancient demon came from the immortal palace, and the palace's ascension triggered this upheaval. The demonic voice of the Heavenly Dao might be connected to that demon! Back then, the gate of the Wuxiang Immortal Sect vanished from the world without a trace, but its archives should still be preserved inside."
"An ancient demon capable of triggering a celestial upheaval isn't something a mere Wuxiang Immortal Sect could suppress!"
The woman was skeptical of his plan. Recalling the scholar in white who had been left standing aside, she asked, "Over the past three hundred years, has an immortal palace descended in the South Sea?"
"An immortal palace?"
The scholar looked bewildered, unable to recall any major event of the sort, yet desperately scratching his head in his eagerness to impress the goddess before him.
The woman's smile vanished. Cold and ruthless, she brought her palm down toward the ship.
With a crash, the water bubble shattered.
An illusory handprint expanded rapidly in their vision.
With death upon them, the cultivators snapped out of their daze, their faces pale with terror.
Cries of panic rang across the ship.
Suddenly, a cluster of golden light enveloped the vessel, deflecting the palm print and guiding the ship gently down to the sea. A faint, almost imperceptible Buddhist chant sounded in their ears. Growing drowsy, the cultivators slumped limp to the deck, all memory of what had just occurred wiped from their minds.
The woman glanced at the old monk, her expression unchanged, uninterested in arguing over such a trifle.
The old monk flicked his sleeve lightly, releasing several flashes of treasure light. "Though we squandered three hundred years, the time was not wasted. These treasures will be of great use in the future. How do you intend to divide them, Fellow Daoist?"
The woman helped herself to two without hesitation, her gaze falling upon two other glows.
Among them were a square cauldron and a peculiar, multi-colored pill.
"Human artifacts. Keep them with you! But before using them, you must have this Queen's consent!"
The old monk agreed and drew them back into his sleeve.
Just then, a sickly sallow hue washed over his face, adding an air of frailty as his aura fluctuated violently. He pressed his palms together, silently reciting a scripture before his condition stabilized.
Once the old monk recovered, the woman asked in puzzlement, "With the demonic voice of the Heavenly Dao ringing in our ears and constantly affecting us, you still risked injury. Aren't you afraid of damaging your Dao foundation and compounding your troubles? If we had followed the original plan, we could have escaped unscathed within five years. Having already been trapped in Wuwang Hall for three hundred years, why the rush to force your way out?"
The old monk looked north toward Jinyu Province and said, "The Ullambana Festival is approaching."
"The Ullambana Festival?"
The woman pondered for a moment before recalling the human assembly held once every five hundred years. Thoughtfully, she said, "You think the remnants of the Wuxiang Immortal Sect will appear then? Heh, with the Deity Transformation cultivators missing, the realm will fall into chaos if we don't show ourselves. For them, it is indeed an opportunity of a lifetime—and it might just help us locate the sect's mountain gate. You certainly calculated well..."
"That is only one reason."
The old monk looked back, watching the storm gradually subside as Wuwang Hall was wiped clean from the world, leaving not a trace behind.
He set off toward Jinyu Province. "A journey east to Guixu offers no guarantee of survival. Before departing, this poor monk must purge every malice lurking in the shadows."
Hearing this, the woman looked at him incredulously. "Old monk, you can barely save yourself, yet you're still fretting over that wretched monastery? If you fail to ascend, you die and your Dao perishes. With the paths of this realm's cultivators blocked by the demonic voice, achieving Deity Transformation is likely impossible now. Even if your sect's heritage lasts myriad millennia, what meaning does it hold?"
"Amitabha! Heritage is itself the purpose."
The old monk strode firmly northward through the air.
"My sect forged me; I shall forge my sect!"
Chapter 1608