What an invaluable trove of information this was.
Perhaps this was the direction his future efforts should take?
He took a few steps forward, only to suddenly feel as if lead were poured into his limbs, an extraordinary exhaustion washing over him.
General Red's battle armor placed an immense burden on the body; it was far from easy to wear.
Furthermore, the battle against Nailuotian's avatar had been mentally draining. He had kept his nerves taut from start to finish, exhausting every scheme and calculation.
Now that he finally relaxed, He Lingchuan could not help yawning.
Faced with a cunning opponent like Nailuotian, how could one make it let down its guard and descend through an avatar? He Lingchuan's strategy had been to make Nailuotian believe it was orchestrating every single step of this venture into Panlong, convincing it that the greatest dangers within the Panlong Ruins stemmed from the Heavenly Palace and the Dafang Pot itself, rather than from He Lingchuan.
In short, he had to stoke its greed until it overwhelmed its vigilance.
And a truly skilled hunter sometimes had to appear as prey.
He Lingchuan tapped the divine bone necklace.
"Hey, you didn't go and digest Nailuotian's avatar, did you? If you did, all my hard work today was for nothing!"
Why had he gone to such lengths to lay this trap? Was it not precisely to dupe Nailuotian's avatar into stepping inside and get trapped?
Trap it, not kill it!
A celestial god could maintain only one avatar in the mortal realm. With Nailuotian's avatar now trapped within the Dafang Pot, as long as it was kept in an undying, imperishable state, Nailuotian's true self would be unable to perform another divine descent to the mortal realm.
The quota was occupied.
That was why He Lingchuan had remained utterly unperturbed even though he knew the divine imprint in his sea of consciousness had not faded.
So long as Nailuotian's true body could not descend to the mortal realm, it could do nothing to him in the future.
Furthermore, because a vessel could not be transferred and the mark could not be removed by other deities, no other god could entertain designs on this vessel of He Lingchuan's either.
Under the premise that He Lingchuan could not erase the divine imprint mark himself, this was the best possible compromise.
The divine bone necklace did not respond, as always.
He Lingchuan was not particularly worried. Although the Dafang Pot did not communicate with him, its conduct was orderly and reasonable. Just looking at how the Panlong Realm had admitted the mortal adventurers while stranding the celestial god's avatar amid the ocean made it clear that it was indeed quietly cooperating with He Lingchuan's plan.
He even added considerately, "When you have a free moment, remember to let me see it with my own eyes to be sure. That's reasonable enough, right?"
Between imprisoning Nailuotian's avatar and assimilating the Qianling Treasure Lid, the Dafang Pot was likely swamped right now.
He simply sat on the ground and circulated his breath through two cycles of vital circulation. Only then did he feel his body recover slightly, no longer feeling hollowed out.
Just as he stood up, He Lingchuan caught the flicker of a faint glimmer on the ground not far away.
What was that?
He walked over and picked up a small yellow seal from the ground. Turning it over, he saw an indentation on the bottom—not deep, but very fresh.
"The Heavenly King Seal?"
Earlier, Master Sanshui had used this very seal to suppress him, only to be struck back by General Red's black spear.
He Lingchuan had originally thought it was merely a magic artifact conjured by Master Sanshui; he had not expected it to be a real treasure.
The combined might of General Red's prowess and the Gale Army's origin power had failed to shatter this seal. The personal weapon of an ancient immortal truly was extraordinary.
It had to be worth a fortune, right?
He Lingchuan wiped away the blood and grit from the seal, then gave a bow into the empty air.
"My thanks, Master Sanshui."
In for a penny, in for a pound. He began clearing the battlefield, gathering the belongings of the fallen.
Leaving them here served no purpose anyway; they might as well follow him from now on.
He would treat them well.
Before long, he found Master Sanshui's token wedged in a crevice between stones.
"Oho, struck gold!"
Carved upon the medallion were three pythons—black, gold, and blue. With a single glance, He Lingchuan recognized them as the Three Rivers Pythons that had fought him relentlessly just moments ago.
However, after that fierce battle, their vitality had been depleted, and they would need some time to recuperate before they could be released again.
This was Master Sanshui's signature magic artifact. Having accompanied its master through thousands of years of suffocating confinement within the Qianling Treasure Lid, it surprisingly had not perished.
Pity that with the decline of heaven-and-earth spiritual energy, the magic artifact could no longer unleash its peak might. Otherwise, those three great serpents had once wielded what was hailed as the power of three rivers in their prime; even clad in General Red's armor, He Lingchuan would never have withstood them.
Searching the other dead, he found that whether they were Baling people, Andongese, or small-fry adventurers, they were all destitute, unable to scrape together even ten taels of silver between them. The Heavenly Palace contingent, however, was extraordinarily wealthy. The gold and silver jewelry He Lingchuan scavenged from them alone exceeded seven thousand taels of silver in value, along with several dozen magic artifacts whose worth was difficult to appraise for now.
Truly, murder and arson bring quick wealth.
He picked out Zhang Lianhai's candle and asked the divine bone necklace, "Want this?"
In the past, the Dafang Pot had shown interest in Duyun Emissary Bai Ziqi's candle and lamp spirit, but He Lingchuan had lacked the means to procure them back then.
The divine bone necklace was not one to refuse, swallowing it in a single gulp.
He Lingchuan shrugged and continued rummaging.
He Jing also possessed a pale-white-gold candle. As a Duyun Emissary, his treasure was naturally of a higher grade, so He Lingchuan decided to keep it for himself.
Next, he unearthed the Big Dipper Kuixing Formation.
The formation instruments were well preserved, though unfortunately all the Kuixing stones had shattered during the fighting. The formation integrated offense, defense, and replenishment; the Heavenly Palace contingent had relied upon it to repel more than a dozen waves of Que beast assaults, a display that had made his mouth water with envy at the time.
*Keep it safe and see if there's ever a chance to replenish the Kuixing stones later.*
He also stripped several high-capacity storage rings from He Jing's fingers, which were valuable treasures in their own right. Within them lay stored abundant supplies, a complete set of the Lesser Mountain-Moving Bronze Talisman Formation, and tokens used to control several desiccated demon puppets.
"Made a fortune, truly made a fortune." He was short on money, and the Heavenly Palace people were such generous benefactors!
Then, he discovered a rather peculiar corpse.
He Jing had brought four servant boys, but only three had successfully summoned child-devouring ji beasts. The final ji beast had never emerged to fight because its host had secretly consumed medicine.
Judging by He Jing's reaction at the time, that ji beast ought to have been quite formidable; pity it had failed to help the Heavenly Palace turn the tide.
It should still be hiding inside this servant boy's corpse on the ground.
He Lingchuan attempted to store the boy's body into a storage ring, but failed.
As expected, storage rings could not hold living organisms.
Checking the boy's pulse once more, he was astonished to find that the breath was faint as a thread—the boy was actually not dead!
This was an enormous surprise. The boy's eyes and brain had been scorched and ruined by the flame of the pale-gold candle; by all logic, he should have perished on the spot. In his haste to draw out the ji beast back then, He Jing had paid no heed to the boy's life.
Although the ji beast remained in a state of slumber, once the host died, it would have no source of nourishment. Just as a starving person sought food, it would break free on its own to hunt upon being starved awake.
Whether the creature was simply a heavy sleeper or not yet hungry, it had still not shown its face even after He Jing fell in battle.
With his brain destroyed, the servant boy would certainly never wake again, yet his physical body clung to lingering breath. Perhaps this too was the ji beast's doing.
A living ji beast was quite valuable; how should he deal with it?
This presented no challenge to He Lingchuan. He patted the soul-snatching mirror.
"Take him in!"
The mirror contained a miniature world of its own; taking in a few living beings was child's play.
The soul-snatching mirror spat out a few drops of clear water, which turned to foam upon hitting the ground.
He Lingchuan asked curiously, "What's that?"
"Master Sanshui's blue python!" the soul-snatching mirror protested. "You shoved it into me and then ignored it! It was thrashing around inside my miniature world for ages!"
Only when Master Sanshui perished did it finally perish as well.
"Can your miniature world still hold up?" Since joining him, the mirror had reaped numerous benefits, and its miniature world should have become more complete, no longer so fragile.
"...It's fine, I suppose. It died fast enough." The mirror silently drew in the servant boy's vessel. "What do you want this thing for anyway? If it wakes up, it's going to torment me again."
"Bringing a toy for Dong Rui." Dong Rui's demon puppets shared many similarities with ji beasts; seeing this creature would probably make him grin ear to ear.
Just as he straightened his back, he noticed that the sand, earth, and pebbles on the ground were dissolving into black smoke.
Looking around at the surrounding structures, the ruined walls and broken tiles were also turning into mist, drifting in wisps toward General Red's Cenotaph as though summoned.
The soul-snatching mirror cried out, "This realm is about to collapse! No, it's dissolving!"
Harboring a miniature world itself, it was the most qualified to speak on the matter.
He Lingchuan walked alone through the ruins. All around him, a world was fracturing into pieces.
The backdrop of the sky gradually shifted to a pale red.
Surreal, desolate, magnificent.
This was the end of a realm, the final moments of a world unknown to mortals. How many in this world would ever have the fortune to witness such a sight?
He Lingchuan understood that two years ago, the realm he had entered alongside Sun Fuping, Nian Songyu, and the others had been this very same place.
It had fulfilled the handover between Zhong Shengguang and General Red, served as the battlefield for the Dafang Pot to refine the Qianling Lid, and acted as the trap for He Lingchuan to ensnare Nailuotian's avatar.
Its merits were complete; it was time for it to bow out.
He Lingchuan closed his eyes, yet the thought in his mind was:
*What about the Panlong World?*
*Was it fundamentally the same as this realm? And in what manner would it meet its own final curtain?*
***
Having led the army back to the oasis, He Chunhua ordered tents to be pitched.
A military physician arrived to treat the wound on his shoulder.
With the tent flap rolled up, He Chunhua gazed at the rising sun in the east, uttering not a word.
The statue of Nailuotian had been growing warm against his chest the entire time, yet he paid it no heed.
Basin after basin of blood-red water was carried out, yet whether due to the sedating effect of the medicine or psychological numbness, he felt no pain. After fleeing the Panlong Realm and having the lingering relief of surviving a catastrophe subside, his mind automatically replayed his eldest son's impassioned, soul-stirring scolding.
Was that truly Chuan'er?
If not, why had he risked his life to save him multiple times earlier?
If it was, had he not changed far too drastically over the past year and a half? Leaping from a frontier dandy into a pillar of talent.
The tone of his voice, the way he conducted affairs, the look in his eyes—everything was different.
Yet was this not the ideal son every father dreamed of—accomplished, dependable, bringing glory to the family name?
Chuan'er had grown up after all. Children who had a sudden awakening overnight were hardly rare; as the saying went, a prodigal returning home was worth more than gold.
Why couldn't he, He Chunhua, have two fine sons?
The military physician said softly, "My lord, the wound has been dressed. It would be best for you to lie still and rest today."
A new day had only just begun, yet He Chunhua's face was etched with exhaustion. "Leave me."
He drove everyone out.
Zhao Qinghe, being perceptive, first helped him sit upright, then retrieved an incense burner to light seven sticks of incense. He cast a ward for him and properly lowered the tent flap to keep out drafts.
Sitting alone in the tent, He Chunhua pondered for a long time before finally pulling out the statue of Nailuotian, murmuring his prayers.
Chapter 853