A gentle breeze blew, swaying the purple bamboo.
This was a relic, its soil scorched black as if struck by thunder and fire, soaked in blood.
Shi Hao stood there, motionless, his face wooden yet streaked with tears that had yet to dry.
“I actually cried,” he murmured, touching the warm tears on his face.
Everyone he had seen in that lifetime had vanished. The bamboo grove remained, but the emerald sea had long dried up. Was this the South Sea Purple Bamboo Grove of that era? Now, only ordinary purple bamboo remained—neither tall nor thick, utterly unlike the scene he had witnessed when dreaming back to the Immortal Ancient.
Was it a dream?
Yet it felt so painfully real. Shi Hao’s heart ached as the memories flashed before his eyes—one after another, his familiar friends had fallen in pools of blood.
So vivid, so brutal—like a nightmare. But why did it hurt so much? Watching friends he had spent months with perish before his eyes left him suffocated and anguished.
Unable to contain himself, Shi Hao let out a roar, then swiftly wiped away his tears.
The road ahead still stretched long. He abruptly raised his head. Words had already been spoken—in that lifetime, in that era, in that dream. What could he do now? Only grow stronger, transcend!
Lost in thought, Shi Hao walked a final circle around the site, paying his last respects.
*Clang!*
Using his Heavenly Eye, he spotted a fragment of rusted metal. Despite the passage of countless years, it had not fully corroded, still shimmering with a faint white glow.
Shi Hao’s pupils contracted, his gaze igniting like twin torches—blazing and piercing.
The Radiant Immortal Gold Sword!
Now, only a fragment remained—less than three inches long. The trace of immortal gold within had not decayed, still flowing with faint white light.
Breathing heavily, Shi Hao ran his fingers over the broken sword. A suffocating weight pressed on his chest, a stifling rage that longed to erupt and shatter the heavens.
It wasn’t a dream. It was real. This place truly was the South Sea Purple Bamboo Grove, where a gathering of young supremes had once taken place—and he had “witnessed” it.
His Heavenly Eye flared again as he unearthed another discovery—a fragment of bone buried underground. In an instant, his blood surged, his body trembling violently.
It was a peculiar bone, shimmering with five-colored light, though faded. Yet its aura was unmistakable—it belonged to the Phoenix Maiden!
They had sparred, exchanged words—he couldn’t be mistaken.
This was undeniably bloody proof. Shi Hao trembled slightly—it was all real!
He dug two graves here, burying the broken sword and the phoenix bone, silently paying his respects before turning sharply and striding away.
“Dreaming back to Immortal Ancient…” Shi Hao muttered, wanting to laugh, yet tears streamed down. Those friends, separated by endless time, were all buried here.
A mix of loss, sorrow, and desolation weighed on him. Even after traveling tens of thousands of miles away, his heart remained heavy.
How could such an experience be possible? Separated by an entire era, by endless time, yet he had befriended such a group—only to watch them fall, their blood staining the earth.
It was a knot in his heart, hard to untangle. His chest heaved violently. He was certain little time had passed in the outside world, yet he had lived so long in that lifetime.
“Enough. The road is long. I’ll see for myself what those enemies are made of, what makes them so extraordinary!” Shi Hao declared.
In his dream of Immortal Ancient, he had witnessed the brutality of war but couldn’t fully discern the enemies—gray mist had descended from beyond the heavens, obscuring everything.
“I made such friends, only to watch them die!”
Days later, though far from that place, his heart refused to settle. Each memory brought a searing pain, his eyes stinging.
Yet he was not one to wallow. Even with friends “just” lost, he quickly regained his composure.
Dwelling excessively would change nothing. What he needed was to rise swiftly, grow stronger!
One day, he would face those enemies again. And when that time came, it would be his turn to fight, to wage war.
That would be the moment he avenged his fallen friends.
*Whoosh!*
That day, as Shi Hao traveled, a tattered beast hide on a crumbling stone mountain suddenly glowed, shooting out countless golden needles—faster than he could imagine.
*Thud!*
The surrounding mountains were pierced, riddled with holes before collapsing.
A cold sweat broke out on Shi Hao’s back. Those “golden needles” were actually the hide’s fur—more terrifying than any treasure.
What kind of weapon was this?
Shi Hao tensed. It was too sudden. Had he been a step slower, he would have been skewered. Even a swarm of Heavenly Gods wouldn’t have survived—they’d have been turned into sieves.
He doubted even sect masters could withstand it.
The source of danger? A dull, weathered beast hide, its fur nearly gone, which had coincidentally erupted just then.
Shi Hao was stunned. The hide looked utterly ordinary, as if from a common beast—nothing remarkable.
A strong mountain wind swept through, flipping the hide and carrying it away. Had it been blown here by chance?
It was baffling. As it tumbled, more fur fell, transforming into golden divine needles—unstoppable, shattering everything in their path.
The earth, mountains, sky—all were torn apart by its fur. It was that terrifying.
Wide-eyed, Shi Hao dodged frantically, avoiding the falling fur and the hide itself. Its power was overwhelming.
Now he understood—the depths of this vast forbidden zone held too many incomprehensible things. Even a tattered beast hide could unleash world-shaking power.
What kind of creature had shed this hide? Using it as a weapon was horrifying.
Soon, it struck him—this was likely a remnant from a fallen supreme being. Given the great war of Immortal Ancient, it might be an artifact from that era.
That only underscored its rarity and lethality.
Shi Hao tried to seize the hide but found it impossible to approach. The gale carried it deep into the mountains.
In fact, he suspected the “wind” was the hide’s own divine power.
Drawing closer, he confirmed it—the hide generated the wind itself, propelling its flight.
Realizing this, he retreated swiftly, breaking out in cold sweat. Had he persisted, death was certain.
Now he grasped why even veteran sect masters perished here. With such sinister artifacts, it was inevitable.
This hide was absurdly powerful—beyond measure. What kind of being had it come from? A Immortal King, perhaps?
Lost in thought, Shi Hao pressed on. At a hillock, he halted—the terrain seemed deliberate. Then his hair stood on end, and he bolted.
The hills were moving—ancient graves, each oozing fresh blood.
They surged toward him, seeking to engulf, suppress, and devour him.
Truly bizarre. Each encounter deepened his understanding of the forbidden zone’s dangers.
Looking back, he saw thousands of corpses strewn along the path—young geniuses from the three thousand provinces, all dead, none surviving.
The vastness of this forbidden zone held too many perils. A single misstep meant eternal damnation.
A month had passed since leaving Sheng Province, yet he still hadn’t glimpsed the so-called ancient city.
A lightning-struck divine tree!
Shi Hao was astonished. Along the way, he spotted a sacred tree—charred black by lightning yet still standing tall.
Within its trunk, a faint glow flickered—a heavenly treasure, perfect for crafting thunder-based artifacts.
But as he neared, a warning surged in his heart. He fled without hesitation. Later, testing with a sacrificial artifact, he triggered the tree.
*Boom!*
A hundred-mile radius exploded—the earth collapsing into a black abyss, the sky shattering.
“What kind of cursed wood is this? What lightning does it harbor?” Shi Hao gaped, chilled to the bone. That power could kill a sect master!
With a shudder, he hurried away.
Two months later, he encountered a squad clad in iron armor, their auras steely—veterans of countless battles.
Mounted on fierce beasts and raptors, they exuded a savage air. The weakest were True Gods, with several Heavenly Gods among them.
“Who are you?” one barked.
“A seeker of the Dao, an explorer heading to the ancient city in the forbidden zone,” Shi Hao replied.
He wondered where they came from. Was the city near?
“You crossed the wilderness alone, from the three thousand provinces?” someone asked, shocked.
“Yes. This path is my trial,” Shi Hao answered.
“The city isn’t far. We’re scouts from there,” one said.
Their mounts advanced.
*Whoosh!*
Suddenly, the leader struck, hurling a secret treasure to suppress Shi Hao.
Simultaneously, a dazzling signal lit the sky—a call for reinforcements.
“Kill!”
They sought his life? Shi Hao wouldn’t hold back. With a sweep of his sword, radiant as a rainbow, he felled several instantly.
Yet they fought like fanatics, fearless of death. The survivors charged again.
“Who are you?” Shi Hao demanded, sensing something amiss.
*Thud!*
Without hesitation, he cut down the rest. Then, a tide of black-clad figures on crimson ancient beasts surged forth—each at the Heavenly God realm!
“Kill him!” someone commanded.
Confused, Shi Hao wondered—was the city nearby? Why attack him? These were battle-hardened killers, steeped in bloodshed.
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