The Lightning Spirits moved away, carrying the corpse on the straw mat into the distant void.
“What about this fish?” Shen Ming asked.
There was still a fish, suspected to be a Kun Peng—a mysterious creature that had somehow led them out of the foreign realm, as if breaking free from the River of Fate.
“Provoking it brings ill omens; best leave it be!” San Zang said.
Having perused some jade burial scriptures, he knew that once a Primordial Fish Fry underwent metamorphosis, it would become something unfathomably bizarre. It was best not to kill it recklessly.
“Any being that breaks free from its original life trajectory is extraordinary, unique, and blessed by the heavens,” San Zang elaborated.
According to him, they owed their arrival in this mysterious place to the fish. Otherwise, they would never have made it here.
“Some fish may leap up, glimpse the river’s surface, foresee their path and future, but in the end, they are still fish—destined to fall back into the river. Unless they transform into Peng, spread their wings, and truly escape the River of Fate,” Shi Hao remarked.
“Indeed. It all depends on its destiny now,” San Zang nodded, his eyes gleaming.
“What about that river?” Shen Ming asked.
Where was the Sea Waterfall? It should have flowed here, into this mysterious void, yet now it was nowhere to be seen.
“I remember seeing it just moments ago, but it blurred and vanished,” San Zang said.
“Look! It’s chasing after the Lightning Spirits too. Let’s go!” Shi Hao exclaimed.
To their astonishment, the Kun Fry swam through the void, flicking its tail as it pursued the Lightning Spirits—coincidentally, the same path they were taking.
The Lightning Spirits were incredibly fast, nearly vanishing in the blink of an eye. The group hurried after them, not daring to delay lest they lose track.
The boundless ancient land, suspended in nothingness, occasionally revealed massive, broken star remnants drifting by, adding to the desolate silence. It felt like a forsaken realm.
Suddenly, the bone bracelet on San Zang’s wrist glowed, emitting a hazy, five-colored radiance—both enchanting and eerie.
“Trouble! The space-time here is unstable, prone to collapse and utter destruction!” he warned.
Ahead, the void was riddled with cracks, the air devoid of spiritual essence, resembling a honeycomb of shattered holes and scars.
It resembled a decaying boundary wall, now half-destroyed.
Hundreds of Lightning Spirits surged past without hesitation, vanishing into the distance.
Then, mist curled through the broken starscape—an odd, rare phenomenon carrying a sacred aura, unlike ordinary matter.
Next, Shi Hao was utterly stunned as he beheld a field of tombstones—an ancient burial ground.
San Zang and Shen Ming, however, froze before erupting in ecstatic joy. Was this their destined fortune?
A graveyard, no matter how one looked at it, resembled an ancient burial site!
“Legends say our ancestors came from beyond this realm. Could it be true? Is this the place?” Shen Ming cried out in delight.
The Lightning Spirits slowed as they entered the graveyard, their eyes emitting divine light as they scrutinized every inch of space.
The burial ground hovered beneath the starry sky, shrouded in mist. Though eerie, it exuded a sacred energy—an unsettling contradiction.
“Could the Lightning Spirits be planning to bury that person here?” Shi Hao wondered.
But if that person was indeed an ancient emperor, with an aura so overwhelming, why would they need to relocate his burial site after millennia?
What were the Lightning Spirits’ true intentions? Who was this person? These were the questions burning in their minds.
The Kun Fry continued following, flicking its tail as if swimming through an ocean, keeping pace effortlessly.
“Primordial Fish Fry, Kun Fry, Lightning Spirits—all in their juvenile forms. Is there a connection? Are they all destined to follow this path for metamorphosis?” Shi Hao mused.
Finally, the Lightning Spirits halted before a massive black earthen tomb, circling it as if searching for something.
The tomb was colossal, towering like a mountain. After careful sensing, they began breaking into it, preparing to carry the corpse inside.
“Are they really going to bury him here?” the group gasped.
Had the Lightning Spirits’ mournful journey been to find a new resting place for this person?
“This tomb is special. I sense the aura of a Burial Being—it must have once buried one, with an extraordinary past!” San Zang declared with certainty.
The situation grew more complicated. Did this involve Burial Beings?
Yet, the tomb trembled as the Lightning Spirits burst out, stirring up dark soil. They carried the corpse away once more, continuing their journey.
Why leave again? Why not bury him here?
The Kun Fry was the first to dart into the tomb, as if searching for something, then swiftly exited.
Naturally, San Zang and Shen Ming wouldn’t miss this opportunity. A potential Burial Being’s resting place was irresistible. They entered the tomb to investigate.
The tomb was ancient, its soil weathered.
Inside, a stone coffin had long since decayed, its remnants blending into the earth.
“A tomb devoid of life energy!” San Zang’s expression darkened.
Shi Hao was speechless. Since when did tombs have “life energy”? Weren’t they all just pits for the dead?
“I sense a familiar aura!” Shen Ming added.
A Burial King from their realm had once ventured beyond the boundary, and this energy matched his.
“The tomb once housed a great medicine, but it’s been harvested!” San Zang concluded.
“Legends say that Burial Being, before becoming a king, rode a Primordial Fish Fry out of the foreign realm. Could his fortune have been found here?” Shen Ming speculated.
“The tomb once held… great medicine,” San Zang sighed, regretful.
“Wait, I don’t understand. What ‘great medicine’ grows in tombs?” Shi Hao interjected.
“Tomb medicine is useless to you, but invaluable to us. It allows our metamorphosis. Across the heavens, such a thing is nearly impossible to find!” Shen Ming lamented.
Shi Hao had no interest in such macabre treasures.
“Could the Lightning Spirits be seeking tomb medicine for that person? But he’s not a Burial Being—it’d be useless to him.”
“Perhaps they’re simply searching for a burial site for that emperor.”
“No! Tomb medicine could be a catalyst. Are they trying to refine a resurrection elixir?”
The two Golden Burial Beings debated.
“Could you elaborate? What exactly is this ‘tomb medicine’?” Shi Hao pressed.
“Tomb medicine is the condensed essence of the strongest blood, accumulated over at least three epochs before transforming into an herb—also called ‘Three Lives Medicine,'” San Zang explained.
For Burial Beings, it was a peerless treasure, irreplaceable by anything else. Its formation was exceedingly rare.
A tomb must endure three epochs, each bathed in the blood rain of divine beings, the essence slowly condensing into medicine.
Rumors said consuming it directly would cause instant death for other beings. But through esoteric methods, it could be refined as a catalyst for otherwise impossible elixirs.
“Does a true resurrection elixir exist?” Shen Ming doubted.
“No. Ancient texts describe it as a collective term for certain medicines—a euphemism. It cannot revive an ancient emperor,” San Zang said.
“Now I understand why that Burial King’s path changed after leaving. He must have found Three Lives Medicine here!” Shen Ming realized.
That foreign realm expert, who rode the Primordial Fish Fry, ultimately became a Burial King!
For Burial Beings, Three Lives Medicine surpassed the combined value of ten immortal herbs—more precious than life itself.
“So, the Lightning Spirits might have unearthed that corpse from an ancient tomb, carrying him to seek resurrection?” Shi Hao theorized.
But how bizarre was that?
A man dead for millennia, no matter how mighty in life, couldn’t possibly return!
“Let’s follow. There may be more shocking discoveries ahead!”
The area was vast—ancient tombs and towering steles shrouded in mist, an enigmatic sight in the starry void.
They trailed the Lightning Spirits while San Zang and Shen Ming occasionally explored other tombs, hoping for fortune.
Yet, their expressions darkened with each fruitless search.
**Boom!**
A deafening wail erupted, magnified countless times. Faintly, they saw countless ancient beings kneeling, praying, and offering sacrifices.
The straw mat in the Lightning Spirits’ grasp emitted a faint light, replaying ancient events.
What was happening?
Behind them, the group was stunned.
“Look! Time is flowing, forming a river. The boundary is unstable, reflecting ancient scenes,” Shen Ming said.
For Golden Burial Beings who slept for millennia—even half an epoch—their “ancient times” could mean anything.
The visions grew more chaotic, filled with countless figures.
“These are past events!” The graveyard was strange, triggering these phenomena as the corpse passed through.
Soon, Shi Hao was petrified. The scenes left him dumbfounded.
He heard shouts and saw a fat Taoist—eerily familiar. Wasn’t that an adult Cao Yusheng?
**Crack!**
A bloody lightning bolt struck, sharpening the visions.
San Zang and Shen Ming noticed too.
“A powerhouse—at least immortal-level!” Shen Ming paled, staring ahead.
“Is that real? Not an illusion?” San Zang murmured, grave-faced.
“Where’s the Three Lives Medicine? I need it to defy the heavens!” the fat Taoist yanked his hair in frustration.
Nearby, a massive beast—larger than a mountain—stood covered in blood.
A gigantic black dog, square-headed with saucer-sized eyes, equally wounded, suddenly lunged at the Taoist’s rear.
“Damn mutt, biting me again!”
Shi Hao gaped as a chaotic chase ensued—man and dog brawling across the stars and tombs.
“I’ll stew you one day, you cursed dog!” the Taoist raged.
“Stop biting! Without Three Lives Medicine, we can’t refine the legendary elixir. Then it’s truly over!” the Taoist lamented.
What in the world was going on? Shi Hao was utterly lost.
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