This also indirectly proves that the Imperial Pass has successfully planted “their own people” in the foreign realm; otherwise, the news wouldn’t have traveled back so swiftly.
Outside the Heavenly Beast Forest, while many were exhilarated and emboldened, believing figures like He Ziming could surely slay Huang, others were less satisfied.
“If the supreme beings from our realm who have arrived here were to act, they could annihilate him in an instant!” someone muttered, feeling this operation was overly elaborate and should be concluded.
“If the supreme beings could enter the Heavenly Beast Forest, would they have waited until now? They would have retrieved the rotten wooden chest long ago,” another sighed.
The Heavenly Beast Forest harbors a mysterious force that even supreme beings dread!
High in the sky, several figures sat cross-legged, silent and shrouded in chaos. The quarrels below held no meaning for them, nor did they pay attention. These were the supreme beings, each capable of plucking stars and grasping the moon with ease.
“He Ziming, do not disgrace the legacy of your ancestors!” Finally, one of the supreme beings spoke.
A young man had arrived in the distance, drawing the attention of one supreme being.
He Ziming, with his golden hair cascading like a waterfall, was enveloped in a sacred radiance—serene, holy, and exuding an ineffable transcendent aura. His golden eyes shimmered with confidence, wielding power beyond imagination. With each step, reality seemed to flicker as he traversed from the horizon’s edge.
“I heed your decree. I shall slay Huang!” He Ziming declared with unwavering confidence.
The supreme beings in the sky spoke no more, their forms growing increasingly indistinct within the chaos.
“He Ziming, it is said that Ancestor He has emerged from seclusion and even instructed you. Is this true?” an elder asked fervently, his eyes burning with reverence for Ancestor He.
“Indeed!” He Ziming nodded, confirming the rumors.
Who was He Wushuang? Not of an imperial lineage, yet step by step, he surpassed his contemporaries, ascending ever higher until now, nearly standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Yu Tuo and An Lan.
He was the most dazzling rising star of his era, now on the cusp of becoming a sovereign and progenitor.
“He Ziming, we believe you can slay Huang. If he were to fall at the hands of a mere Daoist cultivator, even if it quenches our fury, it would leave us humbled for ages, a regret we cannot bear!” some youths shouted.
They wished for Huang’s life to be ended by one of their own generation!
“He Ziming, whether the He Clan ascends to imperial status begins with you. You are the touchstone!” an elder remarked with hidden meaning.
“Indeed, by all accounts, your current cultivation should rival that of the imperial clans, no?” another inquired.
He Ziming was hailed as the foremost among the ten young kings of the noble clans, yet all knew he far surpassed the other nine, matching even the imperial clans.
Now, with the legendary Ancestor He emerging to guide him, surprises surely awaited!
“Wait for my news, all of you!” He Ziming strode into the Heavenly Beast Forest, his golden radiance cloaking him as he vanished amidst a shower of auspicious golden light.
Deep within the Heavenly Beast Forest, Shi Hao’s body was battered and broken, riddled with ghastly wounds, his bones shattered in countless places.
Gasping for breath, he had narrowly escaped annihilation under the pursuit of Daoist cultivators, his injuries horrific.
Gulp!
He drank a golden elixir, its fragrance overwhelming, its radiance surging. In moments, his body mended, his bones crackling like roasting beans.
This was the divine liquid from the caverns of the Divine Medicine Mountain Range, the same that had nurtured the Golden Bull.
Without it, Shi Hao would have perished long ago.
Time and again, he had suffered fatal wounds—by all logic, he should have died six or seven times over.
Each time, this divine liquid had pulled him back from death’s brink.
Twice, his body had been torn asunder, yet he had clawed his way back from the underworld.
“Bastards, every last one of you! Once I break through, I’ll slaughter you one by one!” Shi Hao muttered, taking another swig of the golden liquid. His wounds sealed, his bones knit, and he fled swiftly.
He needed a safe place to ascend to the Severing Realm!
His foundation was solid, his trials sufficient.
But danger lurked everywhere—a suitable location was hard to find.
“Huang… is it really you?” a voice whispered from afar.
Shi Hao whirled, his gaze piercing the darkness where a figure beckoned. Had he been discovered again?
Yet he paused—the figure wore the garb of the Imperial Pass.
“We’re here to rescue you. Come!” the voice urged in the tongue of the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths.
Shi Hao hesitated. Had the Imperial Pass truly sent aid here?
Two more figures emerged, clad in black armor, spears in hand—unmistakably from the Imperial Pass. One spear dripped blood, skewering the corpse of a foreign realm expert, freshly slain.
“You’re from the Imperial Pass?” Shi Hao asked.
“Indeed. We possess an ancient chariot capable of unparalleled stealth and speed, allowing us to slip in undetected. The foreign realm hasn’t discovered us yet,” one explained.
Space twisted as an ancient war chariot materialized, speeding toward him. Shi Hao remained wary—he couldn’t be certain of their allegiance.
Thud!
A corpse was flung before him, shifting his doubts.
It was a Daoist cultivator from the foreign realm, his brow pierced, blood still flowing. Half an hour prior, this very man had hunted Shi Hao, nearly tearing him apart.
Shi Hao recognized him—his aura unmistakable.
Relief washed over him. “This place is too dangerous,” he said, turning to the newcomers.
Now convinced, he saw they were indeed from the Imperial Pass.
“Dangerous or not, we had to come. Even if it costs many lives, saving you is worth it,” an elder declared, stepping from the chariot, a bloodied halberd in hand—the weapon that had slain the Daoist.
Shi Hao recognized him—a warrior he’d seen fighting valiantly on the battlefield.
Now certain, he sighed. “My life isn’t worth such sacrifice. Knowing others died for me would weigh on my conscience.”
“It is worth it. A thousand deaths would be worth it,” the elder said gravely, eyeing the rotten wooden chest. “The foreign realm is frantic for this. It must hold immense significance. We’re here not just for you, but to bring it back to the Imperial Pass for the supreme beings to study.”
Shi Hao’s gaze darkened. “Yes, this chest is no ordinary artifact. It harbors great secrets.”
“You’ve had it for some time. Have you uncovered any of its mysteries?” the elder pressed.
“None yet,” Shi Hao admitted.
“This is too critical. When you retrieved it from that cursed land, did the tomb offer no omens, no revelations?”
Shi Hao frowned.
“Brother, why hesitate? This chest may be pivotal—perhaps even a fatal threat to the foreign realm. Speak!” a youth urged impatiently.
“Mind your manners!” the elder snapped.
“Let us leave swiftly. Beyond the foreign realm’s forces, traitors from the Imperial Pass are here too!” the elder spat bitterly.
“Traitors from the Imperial Pass?” Shi Hao knew of the betrayers but had kept silent.
“Yes, some have defected to the foreign realm. We must go now!” The elder ushered Shi Hao onto the chariot.
“Trouble! They’re coming!” a lookout cried.
Shi Hao sensed it too—their retreat was cut off. Powerful cultivators were closing in.
“Go!” The elder urged the chariot forward, sweeping Shi Hao aboard as they fled at breakneck speed.
“Fear not. This chariot is a rare treasure. It may yet evade them and return us safely to the Imperial Pass,” a middle-aged man assured.
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