Chapter 1856: The Western Ling Domain

The Western Tomb Realm—it was a land of ancient burial grounds!

Over the long passage of time, the truths about that place had long become obscured, lost to the ages.

All people knew was that even the outer regions of the Western Tomb Realm were littered with the bones of primordial savage beasts, piled high like mountains.

There, vast mounds stretched endlessly. Any one of them, when excavated, would reveal itself to be the grave of a ferocious beast or a monstrous bird. Over the eons, something had gone terribly wrong, and eerie phenomena often occurred.

As they marched forward in a mighty procession, they gradually approached that ominous land.

“Listen well—the Western Tomb Realm is the most dangerous place. Back in the day, I personally ventured through it and witnessed its formation, an act that defied the heavens. Do not take it lightly,” the Great Black Tortoise declared, half-boasting, half-warning.

It spoke no lies. When the Western Tomb first took shape, transforming into a realm of its own, the mere act of its opening had summoned manifestations of Divine Kings and Celestial Deities—terrifying beyond measure.

In those days, Shi Hao and the Great Black Tortoise had to hide and skulk, avoiding the eerie, mindless creatures that roamed within, just to pass through safely.

Had they dared to confront them head-on, not even their bones would have remained.

Now, after so many years, who knew what the Western Tomb Realm had become? Likely, it had grown even more horrifying.

Shi Hao remembered this place vividly. The Myriad Spirit Diagram had originated here. On that altar, several artifacts had once stood alongside it, but back then, he had only managed to obtain the diagram.

“We’ll be careful!” Shi Zhong nodded, brimming with confidence but not arrogance.

“Uncle Tortoise, don’t worry. We’re not delicate flowers raised in a greenhouse. Bring on the trials—it’s time to temper our edge,” Zhu Lin said with a laugh, deliberately lightening the mood.

Her words drew chuckles from the group.

“If you’re not greenhouse flowers, then who is?”

Only the Crimson Dragon remained aloof, its face dark with displeasure. It couldn’t stand the title “Senior Nephew” and was itching to put these troublemakers in their place.

“Senior Nephew, what’s your problem? Don’t believe us?” Zhu Lin teased.

“You brat, what have you even seen? Today’s your first real life-or-death battle, isn’t it?” the Crimson Dragon retorted.

It admitted that the Demon Willow was no weakling—a true force to be reckoned with. Zhu Lin’s ability to slay it proved her own extraordinary nature. After all, the Demon Willow was a unique entity; a single mature specimen meant the deaths of countless beings. Its path of evolution was paved with bones, as it absorbed the essence of all races. Such a creature couldn’t help but be formidable.

“Nephew, do you think my youth means I lack experience? You’re wrong. I’ve seen beings a thousand, ten thousand times stronger than the Demon Willow. The bloodiest battles of this world mean nothing to me. If anyone’s a greenhouse flower, it’s you,” Zhu Lin said with a smile.

Her calm words silenced the younger members of the group.

What had these youths endured in their childhood? Sieges by immortals, the Seven Kings holding the line, True Immortals falling in battle…

It had been too brutal.

The Crimson Dragon roared, “What could a brat like you possibly have experienced?”

“I was born in the Primordial Imperial City. From the moment I entered this world, I fed on the corpses of our enemies—savage birds, ferocious beasts, the weakest of which were Celestial Deity-level fiends. I’ve gnawed on the flesh of Supreme Beings, even chunks of Immortal corpses!” Zhu Lin said flatly.

“Nonsense! A little girl like you, feeding on such beings? A single drop of their blood would’ve killed you!” the Crimson Dragon scoffed.

Zhu Lin laughed bitterly. “If you’d been born in a city besieged for an entire epoch, locked in eternal war against the Foreign Realm, you’d have eaten not just beast flesh but human corpses too. From the moment I was born, the city’s spiritual veins had dried up. No plants, no herbs, no normal food—only corpses. What else could we eat?!”

Shi Hao sighed. It was the truth. He had once entered that city, and the suffering there was beyond words.

Every child was the same—no exceptions. Clad in tattered beast hides, filthy and bloodstained.

To survive, they had no choice but to consume those corpses. Thankfully, powerful elders, remnants of the Seven Kings, had purified the flesh, stripping away the killing intent and lethal toxins.

This was why their physiques were so formidable. Shi Hao had brought them out, placing great hopes in them precisely because of this. Children raised in such an environment were destined for greatness.

By comparison, even the Crimson Dragon, descendant of the Ten Fiends, seemed like a greenhouse flower.

“I’ve eaten Supreme Being flesh, even tasted immortal blood. But I was too young then. Even after the elders purified it, I could only consume a little, diluted with water,” Shi Zhong added.

“You’re thirty-six or thirty-seven now, so back then you were just three or four. What could you possibly remember?!” the Crimson Dragon said skeptically.

“I was twelve or thirteen. My memories are clear. Will you believe me?” Mu Qing interjected.

“Enough. One day, I’ll lead you into the Foreign Realm to avenge your ancestors,” Shi Hao said.

Some things were too painful to revisit. When he had entered the Primordial Imperial City, he’d seen countless pyres burning—the bones of Immortals, the remnants of True Immortals. Their essence was extracted to sustain the ancient city. That war had been a saga of blood and tears.

In the end, the Crimson Dragon believed them. The expressions on Shi Hao’s face and the somber mood of the youths convinced it that these horrors were real.

“My mistake this time,” it said, rare humility in its tone.

“It’s fine, Nephew. We’re not blameless either. As kids, we drank the blood of evil dragons. Whenever we see you, we can’t help but wonder—how similar would True Dragon blood taste?” Zhu Lin joked.

The Crimson Dragon’s face fell, darkening once more.

Clearly, Zhu Lin was lightening the mood, steering them away from despair.

A stone stele marked the entrance to the Western Tomb Realm. Beyond it lay the mysterious zone.

The moment they stepped inside, the world dimmed, and a chilling aura washed over them.

A Taowu suddenly charged at them, its maw gaping like a bloodied abyss. The size of a small mountain, it lunged with overwhelming ferocity, shaking the earth.

*Boom!*

Shi Zhong struck, his fist repelling the beast.

Just as the Great Black Tortoise had warned, the creatures here were formidable—many at the Celestial Deity level. For the Lower Realm, this was unthinkable.

“It’s far more dangerous than before!” the Great Black Tortoise said.

In the past, the beings here had been sluggish, their wills hazy. As long as one avoided them, there was no danger.

But now, they actively hunted intruders!

“Something’s off. It’s half-physical, half-spiritual,” Shi Zhong observed.

Shi Hao nodded. This place was a fusion of spirit and matter, a nascent form of the Void God Realm.

The residual wills of those Celestial Deities and ancient beasts were weaving together, constructing a mysterious domain—a world of its own.

Of course, there had to be something else at play. These battle spirits alone couldn’t have achieved this. A spiritual realm wasn’t something just anyone could create.

*Roar!* A tiger’s snarl echoed.

As they ventured deeper, a White Tiger descended from the heavens, treading on starlight as it pounced.

Around them, towering ancient trees and colossal mountains painted a primeval landscape. Beasts of all kinds, their auras overwhelming, fixed their gazes upon the intruders.

“This is perfect—a true training ground!” Shi Hao remarked.

The beasts here were legion: True Hou, Pixiu, Devouring Sky Sparrow, Thousand-Armed Giant, Taotie, Lightning Lion… legendary species, all.

Many were at the Celestial Deity level, with some even stronger.

Back then, Shi Hao had seen these creatures, but they had never attacked him. Now, everything had changed.

“Kill!”

There was no retreat. They had come to temper themselves. Under the leadership of Mu Qing, Zhu Lin, and Shi Zhong, they pressed forward, fearless.

Shi Hao followed, his brow gradually furrowing.

Despite the fierce resistance, they advanced, pushing toward the heart of the realm.

Along the way, the scent of herbs filled the air—silver Lightning Trees crackled with energy, their fruits radiant and intoxicating.

Dragon’s Tongue Grass glistened with dew, its fragrance intoxicating.

“What a place! So many divine herbs!”

“Don’t eat them!” the Great Black Tortoise warned. The fruits here were half-real, half-illusory—and lethally toxic, infused with deathly energy. Back then, it had nearly died from half a Lightning Fruit.

The deeper they went, the more Shi Hao’s unease grew. Something was wrong.

At the core of the Western Tomb Realm, the beings were almost entirely spiritual, like manifested souls. Even the plants and mountains were vividly constructed from pure willpower.

“This is practically the Void God Realm!” the Swan Sage exclaimed.

“Kill!”

Mu Qing, Shi Zhong, and Zhu Lin led the charge like a stampede of beasts, their killing intent overwhelming as they carved a path forward.

“There!” Shi Hao’s eyes widened. Ahead, a hazy glow revealed a passageway in the sky.

The Western Tomb Realm had merged with another world, opening a gateway.

In a flash, Shi Hao dashed inside, driven by an unsettling premonition.

The Void God Realm!

The Western Tomb Realm had fused with it, forging a bridge between the two.

“This leads straight to the Dark Prison!” Shi Hao’s heart pounded. The Western Tomb was half-spiritual, half-physical, and now his physical body had entered the convergence point.

With a slight effort, he pushed his body deeper, though it felt like wading through mud.

His spirit emerged, leaving his flesh behind as it surged forward, radiant.

“Using the Western Tomb as a key to unlock the Void God Realm’s shackles, to open the prison?” A chill ran down his spine.

The Lower Realm was itself the most terrifying prison, burying secrets of cosmic significance. Only the most ancient traditions of the Immortal Realm held records of it—truths known only to Immortal Kings.