This time, no accidents occurred.
Under the watchful eyes of all, the celestial rift shrank into a white seam before vanishing entirely.
"Did the Divine Venerable succeed?" On the ground, many immortals still gazed up into the firmament. "This battle... we won!"
Every living creature on the ground let out a long breath of relief.
Flocks of birds landed on mountaintops and tree branches, keeping a solemn, silent vigil.
Many people sank to the ground, sitting in a daze for a long while before bursting into wails of grief.
Dense banks of clouds rolled across the sky, completely blotting out that solitary patch of clear, sunlit blue.
The man in the cyan jade crown looked toward the western sky, pity in his eyes. "Trillions of lives have been reduced to ash, and seven or eight out of every ten great powers in the realm are gone. We cannot even call this a Pyrrhic victory; we merely drove off the Heavenly Fiends. Yet the tribulation of the mortal world has only just begun!"
The crowd remained silent.
Only after a long while did someone whisper, "It is time for the next step."
With that, the seven leaders returned to their respective sects and tribes to carry out the deployments planned beforehand.
Three days later, the crowd gathered once more.
Not far away, the barrier of light radiated by the stone stele silently protected the oasis. The dragon scale embedded in the stele gleamed dark and glossy.
This open clearing was packed tight by an immense crowd of tens of thousands, yet each of the seven leaders was followed by only a few dozen disciples.
The other six asked the man in the cyan jade crown, "Immortal Shou'an, do you truly intend to stay? The spiritual energy of the world has already withered. Even with your great power, you cannot hold out for very long."
To stay meant being prepared to perish and see one's Dao extinguished. This held true not only for Immortal Shou'an, but for everyone remaining here.
"You enter the grotto-heaven to ensure the Daoist lineage survives; I remain outside for the exact same reason." Immortal Shou'an gave a faint smile. "You will be in seclusion for a very long time. Who knows what unforeseen events may arise out here? Perhaps the Heavenly Fiends left behind in the mortal world will stir up trouble. With me watching over the realm, evil will not be able to raise a storm!"
"With Immortal Shou'an here, the world will be safe!" Moved, the six bowed together in gratitude for his protection. Then, turning to their respective sects, they said, "The duty of guiding and educating all living beings is entrusted to you."
With those words, each began to chant incantations. Behind them, the air rippled like disturbed water, revealing a small opening.
Beyond lay another minor world, brimming with lush green mountains, clear waters, wondrous flora, and churning spiritual energy. Just standing at the entrance, a moist, gentle mist caressed their faces, refreshing both heart and soul.
Compared to the living hell outside the barrier of light, this was unquestionably a grotto-heaven and blessed land.
Tens of thousands knelt and cried out, "Farewell, Immortal Venerables!"
Leading their direct disciples, the six Immortal Venerables strode into the minor world without looking back.
The paradise of the grotto-heaven slowly closed before everyone's eyes, as though it had never existed at all.
Ten thousand people lay prostrate on the ground, weeping.
This was a parting in life as final as death.
Afterward, Immortal Shou'an waved his hand toward the crowd. "Disperse, all of you. Your Immortal Venerables have assigned your tasks. Go and attend to them."
Seeing him stride away, his disciples hurried after him. "Master, where are you going?"
"When the Divine Venerable struck the celestial rift just now, a red light flew westward. It must be investigated," Immortal Shou'an said with certainty. "That thing is surely tied to the supreme treasure the Heavenly Fiends used to fuse heaven and earth. Moreover, the Divine Venerable sacrificed himself by ramming the sky, and his whereabouts are unknown. I must go and see for myself."
The streak of black light that had darted across the sky earlier was likely the Black Dragon.
He glanced back at the crowd. "Why are you still following me? Why haven't you set about the tasks assigned to you?"
"We are about to begin, but Junior Brother Qu Yu has yet to appear. We cannot divine his condition."
Immortal Shou'an paused briefly in his stride, casually summoning his longsword.
The tip of the sword was broken, its blade bare and plain, yet it still gleamed like autumn water and bore a row of carved talismans.
Holding the sword, Immortal Shou'an murmured a few words, and the talismans on the blade lit up. He tossed the sword into the sky.
The divine sword took flight without wings, transforming into a wisp of light and shooting westward.
Only then did Immortal Shou'an speak. "I warned him long ago that he would be safe as long as he stood under the sun. He did not listen. Alas, it is fate."
The disciples were shaken. "Junior Brother Qu Yu has already..."
"There is no need to look for him."
The disciples understood. Then they said:
"Your injuries are severe. Please rest and recuperate before embarking on a long journey."
Immortal Shou'an sighed. "Time waits for no one. Remnants of the Heavenly Fiends must still be out there; we cannot allow them to find it first. I have a premonition that the object that fell from the sky is extraordinary."
A disciple gave a bitter smile. "The realm is shattered to such an extent that the Heavenly Fiends are too busy hiding in ignominy to dare show themselves. Without any further spiritual energy to replenish you, Master, please take care of yourself!"
Immortal Shou'an instinctively slowed his pace.
The previous fierce battles had indeed taken a heavy toll on him, leaving him wounded from head to toe. His young disciple was right: the spiritual energy of this world was all but extinguished, and even someone of his lofty status as an Immortal Venerable could hardly find replenishment.
From now on, he could no longer act or cast arts with reckless abandon as he once had.
Seeing his expression soften, the disciple asked further, "Those Immortal Venerables entered the grotto-heaven for forced seclusion, claiming that in one or two centuries at the shortest, or four to five centuries at the longest, the spiritual energy of heaven and earth will surely flourish again, and only then will they emerge. But... what if the world's spiritual energy never recovers?"
Immortal Shou'an gave him a strange look. "Why would you think that?"
The disciple persisted, "What if? Just what if?"
"Then the outlook is bleak. Naturally, they can hold out longer than us, but the spiritual energy inside the grotto-heaven is limited as well. Besides, two of those old fellows are more heavily injured than I am—they thought I couldn't tell."
At that moment, the volcano closest to the oasis began to rumble and erupt once more. Magma tumbled into the sea, sending endless plumes of white steam billowing upward.
How many more years would such apocalyptic scenes persist?
When would the spiritual energy that all living things desperately awaited ever return?
Immortal Shou'an gazed into the distance and let out a faint sigh. "If your words prove prophetic, I fear that a thousand years from now, the Daoist lineages will be severed, all living beings will be trapped in ignorance, and there will be no more immortals under heaven."
With that, his enthusiasm waned. He swept his sleeve, and his figure was already a hundred zhang away.
The disciples looked at one another and smiled wryly: from now on, they had to ration their spiritual power, yet their master seemed to have forgotten once again.
The scene shifted to an entirely different sight.
A Daoist sect nestled amidst green mountains and clear waters had once been secluded from the world. Now, the stone monolith at the mountain gate carved with the two large characters "Yuyang" was stained crimson with blood.
Corpse after corpse lay strewn across the winding mountain path, stretching all the way to the sect's main hall.
The Yuyang Sect had suffered defeat. Most of its disciples were dead or wounded, and the survivors had no choice but to surrender. The victors were an army of more than two thousand men. Their leader paid no attention to the captives kneeling all over the rear hall. Grabbing the superintendent of the storehouse by the collar, he hauled him to the back of the mountain and slammed him down before the treasury gates.
"I hear you have a suit of precious armor forged from ancient black dragon scales?"
"Yes, but..."
"Open the gates!"
The man pressed his blade against the superintendent's brow, blood still dripping from the tip. Left with no choice, the superintendent produced the key and unraveled the restriction.
Red light flashed twice upon the treasury gates, and they slowly swung inward.
Inside were several magic artifacts and a modest amount of gold and silver, but the leader did not spare them a single glance. He followed closely behind the superintendent into a partition deep within the vault.
Only a single suit of black war armor rested here.
No one knew how long it had lain in this place; its plates were coated in dust, drab and lackluster.
The leader scoffed. "A supreme treasure left to gather dust, never put to its full use—what a waste you cultivators are!"
The superintendent stammered, "The Luosheng Armor is an evil armor our founding patriarch forged by mistake. It has flaws and remains incomplete, which is why it was sealed..."
"Where are its flaws? How is it incomplete?"
"With treasures of this caliber, not even an exalted immortal can control their ultimate quality upon completion—it is what one calls a 'serendipitous stroke of genius,'" the superintendent said in a hushed voice. "Before his martyrdom, the Black Dragon attained a cultivation that transcended mortality and entered sainthood. As the sole Divine Venerable in the realm, he had fully comprehended the supreme principles of heaven and earth. A precious suit of armor crafted from his scales grows stronger by absorbing karmic debt, yet what cultivators fear most is becoming tainted by karmic cause and effect..."
The leader cut him off. "We military men don't fear that. What else?"
Leading troops and killing enemies—how could one avoid incurring karma? He dared to act and dared to bear the consequences, unlike those hypocritical so-called immortals who planted wicked causes yet cowered before the wicked fruits.
Pure affectation!
"After the armor was forged, a piece was missing. The founding patriarch went to great lengths and finally found the Black Dragon's heart scale to complete it—the very scale the dragon clan refers to as the 'reverse scale.' However—" His mouth grew dry, and he coughed several times before continuing, "the first time this armor was granted to the eldest disciple to wear, the heart scale was inexplicably lost. Our founding patriarch calculated for a long time but could not divine its whereabouts. He could only sigh and say it was the will of heaven, telling us to search no further."
"Your patriarch was careless enough to lose a treasure like that? Or did it grow legs and run off on its own?" The leader shook his head. "What does this reverse scale do?"
"That... I do not know." He was merely a storehouse keeper who had heard a few old legends of questionable veracity; how could he know everything? "The piece currently on the breastplate was added later. Afterward, the armor exhibited an increasingly sinister nature. Deeming that it should not remain in the world, the patriarch sealed it away."
The leader strode directly toward the black armor and tore off the seal above it.
What did a missing heart scale matter? A treasure was still the treasure he desperately needed.
The moment he rested his hand upon the helmet, a look of astonishment crossed his face, as if the armor possessed something extraordinary. Yet immediately following that came delight. "Truly miraculous!"
His expression turned solemn, and he bowed three times to the armor, declaring gravely, "I, Pang Yuan, hereby invite the divine armor to accompany me in warring across the land and forging an unprecedented dynasty! Once I conquer this realm and ascend the throne as king, you shall be the foundational treasure of my nation!"
This was his solemn pledge to the Luosheng Armor.
When he touched the Luosheng Armor again, it dismantled on its own, turning into a stream of black mercury that wound up his arm like a python and coiled over his body.
In an instant, it reformed into black war armor, covering Pang Yuan from head to toe.
The man threw his head back with a loud laugh and turned to stride away.
Pang Yuan did not break his word. Later, when he carved out a vast empire, he indeed made the Luosheng Armor its founding treasure.
Yet he ruled with tyranny and harsh laws, inciting frequent uprisings across the realm. Pang Yuan continued to don the armor and ride into battle, putting down thirty-seven rebellions over a span of ten years to stabilize his domain.
In his old age, Pang Yuan grew increasingly temperamental and erratic.
On his deathbed, he personally sealed the Luosheng Armor on Mount Ke, forbidding his descendants from ever donning it.
Time slipped by, and two hundred years passed.
With the empire on the brink of collapse, the last emperor defied the ancestral decree and summoned the Luosheng Armor back into the world, yet he could not halt the crumbling of the great edifice.
From then on, the Luosheng Armor was lost to the mortal world, reemerging every few decades to stir up storms of blood and slaughter.
Chapter 1178