The city was vast, yet it lacked vitality, for there were too few people.
The ancient city stood majestic, though somewhat dilapidated, it still retained its grand and imposing presence. Sadly, only a few women, children, and the infirm remained to guard it—too large a city, too few souls.
“This is the dwelling place of the Kings.”
The one-armed elder led Shi Hao to a low hill within the city, its base overgrown with weeds, the place silent and still.
On the hillside, dried black bloodstains marked the earth, lifeless and devoid of vigor.
Only one King remained—what had become of him? Did he still live? Even those within the city did not know the details.
Unless faced with life or death, the last of the Seven Kings rarely acted, for maintaining this solitary city was arduous. Only his existence kept the city from falling, allowing it to harness the power of the Abyss.
“Pay respects to the King!” The one-armed elder bowed with reverence and piety before the hill.
“Shi Hao greets the Ancient Ancestor!” Shi Hao, too, was solemn, offering his respects with deep respect.
No matter what, the Seven Kings were heroes of unparalleled valor, worthy of reverence. They had led their clansmen here to fight, never retreating, holding the enemy at bay beyond the frontier, guarding the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths with their blood and lives.
Shi Hao could not forget the scenes he had witnessed on the altar of the black ancient ship—the Seven Kings roaring, battling heaven and earth, leading their clansmen, including women, children, and the weak, in a desperate fight to the death.
Corpse after corpse had fallen, the city stained with blood, their deeds unparalleled in the world. Yet, none outside knew of them, for time had buried their glory and names.
Suddenly, the hill glowed softly, its light spreading outward in serene tranquility.
“I understand your intent. Take the children away.” These words were spoken to the one-armed elder, devoid of pressure or energy fluctuations, spoken in utter calm.
Yet, Shi Hao sensed a vast and righteous aura—not oppressive, but indomitably majestic and unassailable.
The one-armed elder’s eyes welled with tears, his voice trembling as he knelt. “Thank you, my King!”
“It is our failure that has brought suffering upon the children,” the last of the Seven Kings murmured, sighing softly, his tone desolate, like a withered yellow leaf falling.
Then, the hill’s light receded, but a final message was directed at Shi Hao—just two words: “Stay alive.”
Was this advice, a warning, or a premonition?
With those two words, Shi Hao sensed the calm before the storm, the onset of great upheaval. It foretold rivers of blood and mountains of bones—many would perish.
The last of the Seven Kings was disheartened, as if he held little hope for the Nine Heavens. Was this his guidance to Shi Hao—that survival was paramount?
Long after leaving the hill, the one-armed elder remained silent, lost in thought, his gaze vacant.
He knew the last King harbored endless weariness and sorrow in his heart. Having fought for millennia, his battle spirit spent, his blood and soul would soon return to the earth.
In the city, the children were somber, rarely speaking, quietly observing even when they first saw Shi Hao.
The weight of war had stifled them. There was no laughter here, no childhood, no innocence, no joy—only the struggle to survive, guarding this city.
Most had lost their fathers, deprived of warmth, facing only cold earth, icy weapons, and blood and bones.
*Clang—*
A bell tolled, and instantly, beams of light shone from the eyes of everyone in the city. Even the children sprinted swiftly to their posts along the walls.
In their hands, they held mysterious and powerful artifacts!
Shi Hao was stunned. These children were far more agile than their peers outside, swift as young leopards, their killing intent surpassing even that of fierce beasts.
Even the youngest among them moved with astonishing agility!
But they were still children. Wielding weapons was merely to instill awareness—and because the city had no one else left. The able-bodied had all fallen in battle.
“What’s happening?” Shi Hao asked.
“Enemies approach,” the one-armed elder replied.
He led Shi Hao through the void to a section of the wall, where they looked down.
A curtain of light had risen, shielding the entire city—a barrier of runes capable of repelling immortal attacks.
Below the wall stood a massive beast with two heads: one a golden, radiant ancestral crocodile, the other a fierce and savage roc.
Its body was that of an ancestral crocodile, but it bore enormous golden wings—those of a roc.
Clearly, this was an immensely powerful race. The one-armed elder’s expression tightened at the sight.
Shi Hao had heard that only immortals could reach the city walls. Was this a true immortal creature?
Fortunately, San Zang and Shen Ming were not at this gate—otherwise, disaster would have struck.
“Thankfully, it’s just a corpse. Someone is using it to test the Imperial City again,” the one-armed elder sighed in relief.
This was merely the body of a beast, borrowed by an immortal to probe the city. Such occurrences had grown frequent lately, and the elder suspected the final battle was imminent.
With a wave of his hand, the elder signaled the children to act. Their communication was wordless, almost instinctive.
Though not a true immortal foe, the threat was grave. Yet, the elder entrusted the task to the children.
Silent but resolute, the children stood at designated points along the wall, channeling sacred power through their artifacts, activating runes.
*Boom!*
The wall seemed to awaken, emitting a faint glow before unleashing a colossal sword beam that slashed toward the ancient beast!
These were secret treasures—artifacts that resonated with the wall, summoning defensive runes and offensive techniques.
Yet, their small faces paled rapidly. Some soon sat cross-legged, chanting prayers to commune with “bonfires” within the city.
These bonfires were peculiar, composed of skeletal remains exuding immortal power. The children borrowed wisps of divine light, channeling them through their artifacts.
“Exposing them to such danger at such a young age?” Shi Hao frowned. Though seemingly simple, this was fraught with peril.
The immortal bones, though bound by rune arrays, could unleash deadly flames with the slightest mishap. And if the artifacts malfunctioned, catastrophe would follow.
Still, Shi Hao admired the city’s ingenuity—devising methods for children to fight, instilling courage and resilience in them.
“Is this truly dangerous? Their fathers and forebears once sacrificed themselves by the dozens, hundreds, even thousands, charging out with the bones of immortals to fight alongside the Kings,” the one-armed elder said flatly.
The cruelty was stark, a bloody exchange of lives, yet he spoke of it so matter-of-factly.
“Invoking the Abyss demands an even greater price,” he sighed.
Such desperate measures were likely reserved for battles against Immortal Kings.
*Pfft!*
Some children, though stronger than their peers, were still too young. One spat blood and collapsed.
Others carried him away, tending to him carefully.
“Born here, what choice do they have?” The elder’s simple words said it all.
Reality was harsh. The carefree, laughter-filled childhoods of the outside world were impossible here.
Survival itself was a blessing.
*Clang! Clang! Clang!*
The wall continued to glow, unleashing sword beams that forced the beast back.
But the children’s power was limited. In the end, several elders joined forces, igniting the wall with radiant light. A blood-red halberd materialized and struck forward.
*Thud!*
The beast’s head was severed, a wisp of will escaping.
The carcass was dragged into the city, purified at the gate to ensure no lingering threats.
By evening, bonfires flickered in the city—burning beast bones.
Shi Hao sat nearby, watching the silent children waiting for food, his heart unsettled.
“Try a piece. It’s quite good,” the elder offered Shi Hao some meat—today’s spoils.
The meat brimmed with potent essence, the kind only fearsome ancient beasts possessed. The children could only consume it after the elders refined it repeatedly.
Now Shi Hao understood why these children, though young, possessed strength far beyond their years.
For years, they had feasted on the flesh of beasts.
If nurtured outside, they would become a group of extraordinary warriors—precious seedlings!
“Beasts from the other realm carry ominous substances. Consuming too much invites strange ailments. Otherwise, the ancient beast carcasses in our vaults hold even greater power,” the elder explained.
“Ominous?” Shi Hao was startled.
“Yes. Prolonged consumption can lead to corruption unless counteracted,” the elder warned, advising Shi Hao to refine it carefully.
He suspected that many creatures from the other realm carried traces of this taint, some more, some less.
“Children, tonight, bid farewell to your mothers and grandmothers. Tell them all that’s in your hearts,” the elder announced to the children around the fire.
“At dawn, you will depart to learn greater skills. Return only when you are strong enough to fight alongside us!” His voice trembled with emotion.
This was a final farewell.
Some older children stood defiant. “No! We stay and fight! If the city falls, we fall with it!”
“We won’t leave!”
“This is our home—our blood and bones belong here!”
Their shouts were impassioned, for they knew the elder sought to send them away to survive.
“Silence! Return to your families. At dawn, assemble here!” the elder barked.
The fire died, plunging the city into darkness.
For many children, this was a seismic shift—leaving the only home they’d ever known.
At dawn, as the first light appeared, the elder and his comrades gathered the children in the square.
“Go! Return only when you can match your ancestors—when the weakest among you can shoot down stars with an arrow!” an old man roared.
Beside them stood the mothers and grandmothers, who would remain as the city’s defenders.
Now, the children wept, and the women wept.
Silent in daily life, they now cried out, unwilling to part.
The children clung to their families, sobbing as if they had a lifetime of words to say.
As the sun rose, Shi Hao led the children away, their shadows stretching long in the golden dawn—as if reluctant to leave.
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