Chapter 1633: The Legendary City

Rough lines, simple strokes, etched into the dry earth, forming a teleportation array!

If word of this got out, it would surely be dismissed as absurd—just a few simple lines, not an altar built from divine stones nor a formation crafted from precious materials, yet capable of teleportation?

Anyone who saw it might think it was just the scribbles of a child!

But now it was glowing—brilliantly, sacredly. As the trio channeled their power into it, the dry earth erupted with energy, opening a portal!

At the same time, they noticed something strange in the sandy expanse. Like steam rising from a cauldron, wisps of bloody mist emerged, interwoven with swathes of dark light.

**Crack!**

In the distance, the Lightning Abyss roared violently, countless bolts of lightning streaking across the sky, striking toward this very region.

“This place…” Shen Ming grew increasingly uneasy, finally sensing the source of the looming danger.

A terrifying aura spread, carrying an ominous presence, vast and overwhelming.

The Lightning Abyss seethed in response, its surging electricity transforming into tidal waves, submerging the sands and the surrounding area.

“Does the Lightning Abyss exist to suppress this region?” San Zang murmured gravely.

A realization dawned upon them—the Lightning Abyss, the sands, the earthen land, the embankment—they were all connected by some unseen causality, not existing independently.

Now, their scalps tingled with dread, sensing that something terrible was about to befall them. The sands grew ever more ominous, as if death itself was approaching.

“Go!”

The portal had opened. Without hesitation, they turned and dashed through, vanishing from the spot.

**Boom!**

The portal closed behind them, and at the same time, they heard a tremendous crash—the gate had shattered!

But they were already far away, heading toward the unknown.

A moment later, and disaster might have struck.

“What was that?” Shen Ming wondered aloud.

Had some creature awakened? Or was it an ancient formation or some strange power stirring back to life?

“Could it be something that crawled out from the embankment?”

“Or perhaps an undying True Immortal or an Eternal One, slumbering in that region?”

With these questions lingering, they departed.

The path ahead was uncertain, and none of them dared to be careless. Anxiety gnawed at them, for though they had activated teleportation arrays repeatedly, they had yet to find a way back.

“We *will* return,” Shi Hao declared, trusting in the path the Willow Deity had guided them to—it couldn’t possibly lead to a dead end.

Ahead, a faint glow emerged.

Like the first light of dawn, hazy and indistinct, yet undeniably present.

But with it came an oppressive pressure, suffocating and heavy—solemn, iron-willed, laced with killing intent.

Gradually, their vision cleared. A city, vast and imposing, stood before them.

They had emerged from the passageway, arriving at their destination.

A city.

Where was this?

The land was desolate, devoid of life, bereft of human presence—only silence remained, along with an ancient sorrow that had accumulated over countless ages.

The city stood alone, cold and desolate, its battle-scarred walls bearing the marks of endless warfare, visible even from afar.

As they landed, Shen Ming trembled uncontrollably.

San Zang, too, felt his scalp prickle, sensing an overwhelming majesty and a chilling, murderous aura. His body swayed involuntarily, his heart gripped by fear.

As Golden Burial Knights, they could feel the peculiar nature of this land—this was a battlefield where countless bones had been laid to rest, where innumerable lives had been lost in war!

The earth beneath their feet was not true soil, but the pulverized remains of the dead—dark red from blood, white from shattered bone.

And the fallen here had been *powerful*. This place undoubtedly entombed beings of supreme might.

Shi Hao, too, shuddered—not from fear, but from the boiling of his blood, resonating uncontrollably. He wanted to roar to the heavens!

Here, his brow glowed, forming ancient, radiant patterns that shattered the clouds above!

The blood of sin boiled, sundering the heavens.

Here, the blood of the Shi Clan surged and burned. On his forehead, the mark of his lineage appeared—like a character, dazzling beyond compare.

Between Shi Hao’s brows, it was as if a miniature sun had ignited. When he raised his head, the light shooting forth tore through the sky.

Shen Ming and San Zang stared at him, stunned.

They trembled from the terror beneath the earth, where countless peerless beings had been buried—yet Shi Hao’s reaction left them deeply shaken.

*Where is this place?* The question weighed on all three of them.

The city was still far, yet even across the battlefield, its presence made their skin tighten under immense pressure—as if it were a slumbering titan of the immortal path.

It took them a long time to calm their racing hearts.

But the mark on Shi Hao’s brow did not fade. It continued to glow like divine flames, burning as if to consume the heavens!

Surveying their surroundings, they found themselves on a vast, floating landmass—not endless, but expansive enough, with the city at its center.

Instead of approaching the city, they moved toward the edges.

The ground was littered with remains—some mere skeletons, others still clad in flesh, preserved over countless millennia without decay, their resilience defying time.

As expected, the land had limits. At its edges, a translucent barrier encased it, unyielding to their touch.

“Hmm?”

San Zang noticed something unusual.

Through the semi-transparent barrier, they could see the outside world—they were suspended in the sky!

Below stretched a vast desert, golden sands reflecting faint light, dotted with withered bones.

And on the distant horizon stood a towering fortress, piercing the heavens, vast beyond measure—a bulwark guarding the border of a realm.

“The Imperial Pass?” Shi Hao’s expression shifted in astonishment. He recognized it—but where *were* they?

Were they floating in the sky *beyond* the Imperial Pass?

Suddenly, realization struck him. His breath quickened, his blood roared, and he whipped his head around to gaze at the desolate, mysterious city.

“Could this be… the legendary… *that* city?” Shen Ming gasped, her voice trembling.

Shi Hao no longer looked at the Imperial Pass. Instead, his blazing eyes fixed upon the ancient city atop this floating, broken land. His heart surged with emotion, his excitement uncontrollable.

“The city guarded by the Seven Kings of the Borderlands!” he murmured to himself.

His battle blood ignited. Now he understood why his body had reacted so intensely upon arrival.

His ancestors had fought here, had bled here, defending the borderlands, their blood staining the heavens!

Long ago, during the Three Thousand Provinces’ genius battles, within the ruins of the Immortal Ancient Era, Shi Hao had boarded a bloodstained black ship adrift in the void. There, he had encountered horrors and witnessed the corpse of a fallen king.

Through an altar on that ship, he had glimpsed the brutal war at the borderlands—how seven supreme rulers had led their clans to hold the line.

He had seen their people, generation after generation, dwindling in number until even the elderly and children had climbed the city walls, sacrificing themselves to hold back the forces of the Other Side.

In the end, some of the Seven Kings had fallen, their clansmen—women and children included—reduced to near extinction.

Shi Hao had always assumed that the city guarded by the Seven Kings was the Imperial Pass.

But only after entering the true Imperial Pass did he realize—it was not. There was *another* city, further ahead.

Yet for countless years, that city had remained unseen, hidden from the world.

Many believed it had been destroyed.

Now, he was seeing it with his own eyes—standing before it!

Step by step, Shi Hao advanced toward the city, determined to reach it, to step inside.

To be precise, this was a floating island—not an endless continent, but vast enough to serve as a battlefield, with a massive city at its heart.

Compared to the Imperial Pass, this mysterious city was smaller in scale, though no less imposing. It was not built from the remains of stars but from ancient stone.

Yet somehow, to Shi Hao, this city felt *greater* than the Imperial Pass—more majestic, more enduring, more unshakable.

Not in size, but in spirit.

This city bore the weight of eternity, etched with the sorrows of countless battles, steeped in the blood of immortals—a monument that had stood unbroken through the ages, holding back the iron tide of the Other Side.

“The legendary city… the *true* Imperial Pass!” Shen Ming whispered, voicing the thought aloud.

“The true Imperial City. To think it still stands, unyielding,” San Zang murmured in awe.

Then their gazes turned to Shi Hao’s brow, to the glowing mark there, their expressions shifting with realization.

“The mark of a lineage that achieved peerless glory—an undying legacy, flowing in their blood,” Shen Ming said softly, her words heavy with meaning.

Shi Hao’s body stiffened.

The so-called “sinful blood,” the so-called “mark of shame” on his forehead—was *this* the truth?

The Burial Knights *knew*.