The Ancestral Hall of Azure Ethereal Vapors Mountain, as usual, was shrouded in the shadows of ancient pines and cypresses. The massive edifice loomed intermittently through the verdant foliage, but the silence was soon shattered by the hurried footsteps of a large group from the Azure Ethereal Conclave, rushing to this hallowed ground where the revered ancestors of the conclave were honored.
From the outside, everything seemed as serene as ever, but upon reaching the grand hall of the Ancestral Shrine, both the bewildered disciples of the Pinnacle of Heaven and the frantic Su Ru came to an abrupt halt, their eyes wide with shock.
The shrine, encircled by the solemnity of pines and cypresses, lay in disarray. Splintered wood and broken fragments littered the sacred ground. The once majestic entrance, with its vermilion-lacquered doors, was now a mangled, grotesque gap, hardly recognizable as a door at all.
The outer walls of the Ancestral Hall bore witness to the destruction, with shattered windows and holes of varying sizes riddling the facade. The once-revered hall was now a heartbreaking sight, filled with scars and blemishes. Only the dim light from the broken windows and the countless breaches in the walls provided a faint, eerie glow to the darkness within.
“Yi!”
Su Ru was the first to react, heedless of the reasons for the calamity that had befallen the Ancestral Hall. She darted inside, hoping to find the one she sought. Master Water Moon, Elder Yang, and Elder Fan followed closely behind.
Inside, the Ancestral Hall mirrored the devastation seen outside. Once-formidable structures now lay in ruin, the smooth stone slabs shattered, and the colossal oil lamps broken. As the group reached the most sacred spot, they found the massive sacrificial table split in two, and the spirit tablets of the esteemed ancestors of the Azure Ethereal Conclave scattered across the floor, many of them shattered into multiple pieces.
Yet, amidst the chaos, there was no sign of a single person.
Su Ru’s face paled, her body swaying precariously. Master Water Moon, frowning, stepped forward and embraced her, offering words of comfort. Turning to Xiao Yicai, who trailed behind, she asked, “What happened here? And where is Daoxuan Shixiong?”
Xiao Yicai, his expression still one of shock, replied, “When I arrived, Shishu, this is what I found. As for my master, he has been meditating in the Ancestral Hall almost every day for the past month. I can’t imagine him being anywhere else.”
Master Water Moon’s concern deepened, her words trailing off. At that moment, a faint sound echoed from the side, and the seasoned disciples, with their profound cultivation, instantly heard it.
“Someone’s there,” Elder Yang quickly deduced, identifying the sound as coming from behind the broken sacrificial table. Su Ru, weak and trembling, suddenly felt a glimmer of hope, straightening up and calling out, “Is that you, Yi?”
Disciples rushed over, struggling to lift the massive, ancient table. Underneath, they found a figure, groaning softly. It was Lin Jingyu, a disciple of the Dragon Peak, who had been guarding the Ancestral Hall. His clothes were stained with blood, his face deathly pale, and he remained unconscious, unresponsive to the calls of those around him.
The joy on Su Ru’s face faded, replaced by even greater worry and anxiety. Master Water Moon stood beside her, soothing her with gentle words. Elder Yang’s face darkened, scanning the desolate hall. The Ancestral Hall, a place of utmost importance, rivaled the Illusory Moon Grotto in significance. This level of devastation was unprecedented, and more crucially, the two most important figures in the Azure Ethereal Conclave seemed to have vanished.
“Xiao Shizheng,” Elder Yang turned to Xiao Yicai, “Are you certain that the Sect Leader was here?”
Xiao Yicai, his gaze fixed on the unconscious Lin Jingyu, steadied himself and replied, “Yes, Master has been meditating only in the Ancestral Hall for the past few days. Whenever I needed to consult or report to him, it was always here.”
Elder Yang, clearly agitated, seemed at a loss. Xiao Yicai, clearing his throat, approached and whispered, “Elder Yang, we should not delay. The gathering of so many disciples here, witnessing the damage to the sacred hall, is harmful. Moreover, according to Su Ru, there might be hidden circumstances involving Master and Uncle Tian of the Great Bamboo Peak. Let’s first ask the others to leave, and then we can decide on our next steps.”
Elder Yang, realizing the gravity, nodded and retreated to discuss with the white-bearded Elder Fan. Xiao Yicai, taking charge, addressed the assembled disciples, “Dear elders and juniors, the Ancestral Hall has suffered a great calamity. We must not sit idly by. Qin Shizhi, take ten men and secure the perimeter. No one is to enter. If there are any enemies hiding, report back immediately.”
A tall disciple, Qin, bowed and led a group to the perimeter. The Ancestral Hall fell silent, with Xiao Yicai standing at the center, exuding a sense of command.
“Chang Shizhi,” Xiao Yicai continued.
“Here,” Chang Jian, a man of resolute demeanor, stepped forward. He had once led Zhang Xiaofan and others to the mountain for the martial arts contest, where he faced off against Song Daren, the chief disciple of the Great Bamboo Peak.
“Chang Shizhi, the most urgent task now is to find Master. With his guidance, nothing can shake us. Though a great calamity seems to have occurred, Master’s divine powers are unparalleled. Ordinary demons cannot harm him. Take one hundred and fifty men and search the entire mountain, from top to bottom. Do not miss any clue.”
Chang Jian, deeply worried, did not hesitate. He quickly organized the group and left, though the number was still short of the requested total, likely needing reinforcements from the front mountain.
As the crowd departed, the Ancestral Hall appeared emptier, with only the elders, Xiao Yicai, Wen Min, and the unconscious Lin Jingyu remaining.
Xiao Yicai sighed, bowing to the elders. “Elders, the Azure Ethereal Conclave faces a great crisis. If I have made any decisions without proper consultation, please forgive me.”
None of the elders spoke, but Elder Yang nodded. “Xiao Shizheng, you’ve done well. What more can we do? Just tell us.”
Xiao Yicai thought for a moment, “We must be cautious. Elders, please return to your respective peaks. If the worst happens, you can protect your own disciples. Unfortunately, Lin Shizhi is still unconscious. If he were awake, we might learn what happened.”
The elders frowned, their minds heavy. Su Ru, calmed by Master Water Moon, began to accept the situation. Though she worried, she held onto hope. As she watched Xiao Yicai, her thoughts turned to Tian Yi.
At that moment, her gaze fell on Lin Jingyu, and she noticed something in his hand. “Hmm!”
“What is it?” Master Water Moon asked.
“He’s holding something,” Su Ru pointed out.
Xiao Yicai hurried to Lin Jingyu’s side and gently turned him over. In his right hand, he clutched a rectangular black wooden tablet. Xiao Yicai tried to remove it, but it wouldn’t budge. Lin Jingyu, though unconscious, held it tightly, never loosening his grip.
The elders, puzzled, examined the tablet. “It looks like a spirit tablet,” Elder Fan observed.
“Yes, it is,” Master Water Moon confirmed.
Xiao Yicai, after much effort, finally managed to pry open Lin Jingyu’s fingers. The tablet, of utmost importance, was examined by all. To their surprise, it was blank, with no inscription.
Who was it meant to honor? And why was it placed among the ancestors without a name?
Lin Jingyu, clutching the tablet even in his unconscious state, seemed to hold the key to the mystery. Many questions swirled in their minds.
In the Southern Frontier, deep within the Ancient Demon Cavern, the legend of the place was a curious thing. Legends, inherently unreliable, often evolve over time, becoming distorted versions of the original. As the years passed, the truth was often lost, and the legends themselves became distant, forgotten tales.
In the darkness of the Ancient Demon Cavern, the howling wind seemed to still, leaving only a profound silence. This was the deepest part of the cavern, where Hei Mu had brought the sacred artifacts of the five tribes to revive the body of the Beast God. Now, the once-thriving demonic aura had dissipated, leaving only an eerie quiet and the occasional low, rasping breath.
The breath, accompanied by a faint, ominous red light, emanated from the depths of the darkness. A low, growling snarl echoed, carrying a mix of aggression and unease, even fear, directed at the flickering red light.
The growls ceased, as if something had calmed the beast. The cave returned to silence, save for the flickering, eerie red flame.
A woman’s voice, melodious yet devoid of emotion, echoed, “Your Taotie seems to have no fondness for me.”
The voice seemed to travel far, reverberating in the vast, empty space. It came from behind the red light.
A calm laugh responded, “You need not worry; it never trusted humans.”
The woman snorted, “So, it sees me as human now?”
A low growl rippled through the air, and a fire flared in an ancient, rusted brazier. The flames cast a bright, vibrant light, illuminating the surrounding area. Beside the fire, the Beast God sat, his face pale and gaunt, leaning against a stone wall. Next to him, the monstrous Taotie, its eyes wide and fangs bared, stared viciously at the red light.
The Beast God, though pale, was calm, even smiling. “You spent a thousand years cultivating to become human. You should be pleased I see you that way.”
The woman’s voice fell silent, and the red light flickered. The Taotie growled, its attention fixed on the light.
The light moved, approaching the Beast God. The Taotie, growing more menacing, slowly rose. The Beast God, placing a hand on the Taotie’s head, calmed it.
The light hovered before the Beast God, like an eye, staring at him.
“You and I have known each other for a thousand years. Though we are not close friends, we are old acquaintances. Why are you so wary of me now, especially when I am wounded?”
The red light flickered, emitting a sharp whistle as it retreated, extinguishing the brazier’s flames briefly before vanishing into the darkness.
The woman’s cold voice resonated, “I do not trust you, just as your Taotie does not trust me.”
The Beast God laughed, “Well said. But why, if we lack trust, are you helping me?”
Her voice was indifferent, “Because only you can give me what I want.”
The Beast God smiled, “These ugly images etched on the walls and floors?”
He waved his hand, his smile tinged with deeper fatigue. The flames in the brazier flared, growing larger and hotter, casting a blinding light. The shapes within the flames began to shift, forming the vague outline of a dragon.
The woman’s voice, soft and chilling, said, “I remember these images. They imprisoned you for countless ages, didn’t they?”
The Beast God’s smile, indiscernible as either bitter, mocking, or cold, faded as the fiery dragon took form, roaring silently into the darkness. The heat wave surged, engulfing everything in its path, revealing eight patterns on the ground and walls.
These patterns, identical to those seen by Ghost Li in the Xuanhuo Altar of the Burning Incense Valley, were the Eight Fiends Xuan Fire Formation.
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