The reappearance of the lost Qiankun Pouch beyond the desolate borders—how could this not stir chaos? It foretold the arrival of beings from the other side.
“Hurry, inform the elders of the academy! A calamity is upon us!”
Some immediately dispatched their followers to relay everything happening here to the elders aboard the golden warship.
The Qiankun Pouch was unadorned, exuding a primal aura. Tens of thousands of beast hides had been fused together, emanating chaotic energy that pressed down upon heaven and earth.
This was a supreme treasure—if not the greatest in history, it was certainly among the top ten. Crafted by an immortal, it was one of the most renowned weapons ever forged.
It expanded, forming a radiant barrier as if carving out a miniature world within the void.
Winds howled as the pouch rumbled, continuously swelling, causing the pocket dimension to grow. What had initially enveloped only the mountaintop now covered the entire black peak.
Only then did it stabilize slightly.
Everyone could see—it was resisting the laws of this world, standing unyielding against the entire realm!
What kind of power was this? None could remain unmoved!
Above, the sun, moon, and stars trembled in the firmament, as if they could be pulled down at any moment. Such divine might was unimaginable.
“It now carries the will of beings from another world, opposing this realm to open a passage!” Lü Tuo declared.
The descendants of immortal clans possessed far deeper knowledge than others, instantly recognizing the truth.
At these words, everyone’s expressions darkened.
Once, this had been a sacred treasure of the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths, a guardian of their homeland. Now, was it aiding the beings of another world?
“Blame not the pouch—it has been refined, its actions no longer its own,” sighed a three-headed, six-armed creature.
A chill ran through the crowd. Rumors spoke of this as the weapon of an Immortal King, the peerless Qiankun Pouch, capable of swallowing all things, even the boundless stars of the cosmos.
If even such a mighty artifact had fallen into another’s hands, how terrifying must the beings from beyond be?
In mere moments, an overwhelming pressure settled over them, casting a shadow of despair. How could they possibly resist?
“They cannot cross yet!” someone shouted.
Awakened by these words, the others looked up, staring at the pouch and the hazy passage atop the black peak, momentarily stunned.
Many pondered a question: In the past, the beings from beyond had once conquered the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths, shattering this ancient realm. Why had they retreated?
And now, why was their return so difficult?
There must have been some unforeseen event. If they could unravel this mystery, perhaps they could turn the tide.
Otherwise, with the current forces of the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths, they stood little chance against even a single fierce assault from the other side. The thought was suffocating.
Shi Hao’s gaze deepened as he studied the black peak and the Qiankun Pouch. He had once ventured beyond the desolate borders.
The same black, boundless mountain—its traits eerily similar to the Immortal Mountain he had seen. At its summit, too, lay a passage.
Yet there, passage was possible, while here, it was restricted. The beings from beyond struggled to cross.
“There!”
At the horizon, several elders appeared, their sleeves billowing as they rode the tempest, arriving with incredible speed.
In a single step, they traversed endless distance, their expressions grim as they fixed their eyes on the pouch and the altar.
“So the day has finally come?” one sighed, voice tinged with melancholy, worry, and a rising battle spirit.
Upon the black peak, the Qiankun Pouch stabilized, no longer stirring the winds. A gentle radiance bathed the mountain in a holy glow.
The eerie wailing ceased, leaving an unsettling silence.
*Crack!*
A brittle sound echoed, like bones clattering, emerging from the blurred passage.
Then, shadows shifted—a figure stepped forth.
“What? They can cross already?!” The crowd was stunned.
They had assumed the beings from beyond would need vast time to breach the barrier, to overcome the will of this ancient world.
Yet now, one had arrived.
The figure swayed unsteadily, but to their relief, only a single entity had crossed.
All held their breath, staring intently at the passage, eager to see what manner of formidable being had come.
Sacred light shimmered, veiled in seven-colored mist, lending it an aura of sanctity and serenity, an indescribable mystique.
“A skeleton!” someone gasped.
It strode onto the mountaintop, surveying the crowd with an imperious air.
Shock rippled through the onlookers. They had expected a domineering creature, perhaps one exuding immortal majesty—something awe-inspiring.
Instead, they beheld a mere skeleton, devoid of flesh, far from imposing.
“Still so weak.”
Its first words were laced with disdain, a haughty dismissal of this world’s inhabitants. Light swirled in its hollow eyes.
Humanoid, its bones were jade-white, slender, even delicate compared to an average person.
Was this what beings from beyond looked like? Were they all skeletons?
Silence reigned as all scrutinized the figure.
“Not its true form—merely borrowing this skeleton. Yet these bones are extraordinary,” remarked an elder from the Celestial Academy.
“Ah, in life, she was a peerless beauty. How ironic—powder and rouge reduced to bones,” the skeleton mused, critiquing its own frame.
Of course, it “spoke” through divine will, for without flesh, it lacked true speech, and the languages of the two worlds differed.
The crowd stirred at its words.
Some activated mystical sigils in their eyes, studying the ivory bones.
The academy elders frowned, as if recalling something. Their gazes grew profound, fixed upon the skeleton.
At a certain level of cultivation, one could see past flesh to the bones beneath—or, conversely, envision the flesh that once clothed a skeleton.
Shi Hao attempted this, curious about the skeleton’s “true appearance,” given its cryptic remarks.
Moments later, he succeeded. In his mind’s eye, flesh regrew upon the bones, forming a flawless, breathtakingly beautiful figure—a true paragon of elegance.
Others who managed the same were equally awed. This woman had been stunning, her presence hauntingly sorrowful, tinged with regret.
None recognized her, yet the sight stirred unease.
Then, an academy elder suddenly roared in fury, his divine power surging as if he wished to strike.
“Elder, what troubles you?” someone asked cautiously.
“That is an ancestor of my clan!” the elder seethed.
The crowd was stunned. This elder’s origins were ancient, his lineage tracing back to an immortal clan—a golden family surviving from the previous era.
“What of it? There are bones of greater geniuses where she came from. I merely borrowed hers,” the skeleton said dismissively.
The crowd surmised that in life, this skeleton had been at least a figure surpassing sect masters, a powerhouse on the cusp of immortality.
Shi Hao glanced at Wang Xi and whispered, “See? Even a beauty like her ended as bones when the great calamity came. Best not cling to vanity.”
“What nonsense are you spouting?!” Wang Xi nearly activated her Vajra Hoop to constrict his skull and soul.
“Ah, some in the past forced their way through, sealing themselves in stone chambers, only to leave behind empty shells as their spirits vanished. Now, we return their bones, awaiting their revival,” the skeleton remarked.
All were baffled. What was it saying?
Only Shi Hao trembled inwardly, recalling certain truths, his eyes widening in disbelief.
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