The tranquil Burial Grounds were usually silent, for the lives of the Burial Guards were simple—most of their time was spent in deep slumber.
Whether cultivating or secluding themselves, they did so in sleep, achieving immortality through dormancy, growing in stillness, breathing in the essence of heaven and earth beneath the soil.
Time flowed like a river, and in the blink of an eye, ten thousand years had passed. While the outside world was engulfed in cataclysmic floods and earth-shattering wars, the Burial Grounds remained as still as a desolate wasteland.
Cao Yusheng studied the art of burial, comprehending the great techniques of this race with his living body. He sought enlightenment through analogy, refusing to seal himself away. Instead, he lived in this region for ten thousand years, striving for a breakthrough, hoping to ascend to immortality.
For within the Burial Grounds lay the substance of immortality, the dense essence of heaven and earth—though it also carried the aura of death, the breath of decay.
Within the burial lands, he resembled a Golden Burial Guard, inhaling vitality to nourish himself. He sought immortality in this era, waiting for Shi Hao to return alive, yearning to fight alongside him, to seek vengeance.
Yet, in the end, he had reached his twilight years. His youth had been exhausted in the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths. Though the Burial Grounds held the substance of immortality, it could not sustain him indefinitely.
The little dog, too, clung to life, its fur nearly gone, enduring hardship just to witness this grand era and the outcome of the Great Reckoning.
It refused to accept defeat. Creatures from the Forbidden Lands had seized the weapon of the Endless Immortal King—a relic that might hold the key to his final return. It longed to see Shi Hao awaken, to see the Forbidden Lands purged, to reclaim the Immortal Bell.
Finally, Sanzang and Shenming intervened, gifting them burial elixirs—precious concoctions refined from immortal herbs, reserved for Golden Cultivators.
The Burial Grounds were a mysterious realm, often mistaken for the underworld. Yet they housed treasures like the Soil of All Things, a divine earth capable of nurturing all existence, attracting immortal herbs.
Thus, some regions here were sacred beyond measure, rich with immortal herbs, surpassing even the Immortal Realm!
Each era saw the ripening of these herbs—some were harvested, others left untouched. Sanzang and Shenming, as Golden Burial Guards, were not so different from ordinary humans, allowing them to consume these potent medicines for immense benefits.
**”I have finally been reborn! I have another lifetime to cultivate! Shi Hao, my brother, I await your return!”**
With those words, Cao Yusheng threw himself into frenzied cultivation. The little dog, too, once an immortal, now sought to restore its lost power.
Time flowed on, and over a hundred thousand years passed. The Burial Grounds were finally touched by the chaos outside—wars raged across the heavens, shaking the cosmos under the onslaught of terrifying beings.
Alas, Cao Yusheng’s constitution, as his master had foretold, was extraordinary yet ill-suited for immortality. He was destined for repeated cycles of rebirth.
His master had long since bestowed upon him an ancient technique.
**”Shi Hao, my brother, I have aged again. Though the Burial Grounds are rich with the substance of immortality, they are also saturated with deathly energy—far less pure than the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths of old. I am no Burial Guard. My lifespan nears its end, with but ten or twenty thousand years left!”**
Cao Yusheng sighed.
The little dog, too, grew restless. Its former immortal foundation was shattered, and rebuilding it was harder than starting anew.
**”I shall adopt the Burial Guards’ techniques. I may become neither man nor ghost, but I will endure—if only to see you return alive, my brother!”**
Thus, both he and the little dog chose the same path—to hibernate, to comprehend the Great Dao in slumber, to cultivate the Burial Guards’ forbidden secrets.
Sanzang and Shenming proved true allies, imparting their knowledge to them.
After their departure, the Burial Grounds grew even quieter, undisturbed for countless millennia, steeped in deathly stillness.
Then—**BOOM!**
The silence was shattered.
A golden gourd, spewing chaos, descended from the heavens, suppressing the Burial Grounds. Someone had struck, shattering a portion of the land below.
**”Who dares?!”** A furious Burial King emerged to confront the intruder.
The Great Reckoning had come. No sanctuary remained untouched. War and calamity spread everywhere, even to the most mysterious and terrifying of places—the Burial Grounds.
For the first time in two hundred thousand years, the Burial Grounds were under attack!
**BOOM!**
A cataclysmic battle erupted, devastating the borderlands, splitting them into fragments that hurtled into the cosmos.
Had it not been for the countless protective formations buried here, all would have been obliterated.
Even so, the carnage was immense.
And the Imperial Pass? It had long since ceased to exist, reduced to ruins ages ago.
For years, the Burial Grounds had remained untouched while the outside world descended into chaos. Now, the storm had finally reached them.
**BOOM!**
The heavens split, stars reeled, the universe wailed, and the Great Dao trembled. The world was shrouded in despair as the greatest calamity swept through all realms.
Time was merciless. It felled peerless geniuses, erased forbidden beings. Few could endure its passage.
Whether by chance or fate, countless heroes had fallen, their bones buried in the river of time.
Fifty thousand years had passed since Shi Hao’s demise. The world had changed beyond recognition.
Where were the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths of old? They were nearly impossible to find.
The Burial Grounds, too, had fractured, their fragments scattered across the cosmos, steeped in deathly silence.
A small, desolate landmass drifted through space, no larger than a star. Countless such remnants littered the universe, remnants of the cataclysmic wars and the encroaching darkness.
**”Who… am I?”**
From the cracked, lifeless earth, a disheveled young man struggled free from a patch of Soil of All Things.
Beneath him, the soil shimmered—a rare burial earth, its grains radiant with vitality, capable of nurturing all things.
Even Immortal Kings coveted this soil.
Once, the immortal herb carried by the White Turtle had spoken of an Immortal King who sought it to heal his wounds.
This was the soil used by Burial Kings for cultivation.
Legends said that the gravely wounded could heal within it, and even the dead buried here could one day return to life.
**”Where… is this?”**
The young man stood, shaking off the soil, pushing back his dark hair to reveal a delicate face, his eyes clear as spring water.
The land was desolate, devoid of life.
He frowned, trying to recall, but his mind was blank. His head throbbed with pain.
His body was tall and strong, glowing faintly, clad in shattered battle armor stained with blood.
Someone had gathered the broken pieces and reforged them for him, hoping that upon awakening, he might remember his final battle.
The armor was his. The blood was his. Yet now, he was lost.
**”Where is this?”**
He moved—swift as a ghost, fast as lightning. In a single step, he crossed the entire landmass.
At the same time, ten marks on his body began to glow, scattered across his form like shackles, binding him.
He looked up. The sky was littered with broken stars, the cosmos barren and lifeless.
He wandered the land, searching every inch, but found nothing. Finally, he stepped into the void, traversing the stars.
**”This is…”**
He had not known how to fly, yet now it came naturally. He could journey through the cosmos.
Fragments of knowledge trickled into his mind, teaching him how to cross the void.
**BOOM!**
A golden path unfurled beneath his feet, bridging the stars like a celestial road. He strode forward.
The sight was awe-inspiring. He crossed from one end of the universe to the other.
As he did, the stars trembled, their light converging upon him like a tidal wave, absorbed by his body.
This was not his doing—his flesh reacted instinctively.
Bathed in starlight, his body grew more radiant. But he no longer needed such energy. With a breath, he tore open the void, drawing in the essence of chaos.
After a long while, his pores exhaled chaotic mist. He stopped, his body sated.
**”Why did I do that?”**
He examined his hands, then gazed into the abyss of space.
Instinct drew him back to a certain point. He descended upon a shattered continent, vast and broken, scarred by war.
Here, the ten marks on his body flared again, as if something sought to break free. His aura grew terrifying, then settled once more.
**”Where is this?”**
He landed on a scorched plain, stretching for millions of miles, devoid of life.
He left, stepping onto an adjacent land—this one teeming with ancient forests, bottomless pits, and abysses carved by swords and arrows. The remnants of stars lay scattered, a testament to past battles.
Over time, nature had reclaimed the ruins.
Tribes dwelled in the mountains, kingdoms rose on the plains. The lone wanderer encountered his first gathering of living beings.
**”Who are you? Where is this?”**
The first person he saw was a youth, young but extraordinary, his body radiating an unusual aura.
**”I am Zhang Bairen. This is a wasteland after the great war. You… are from beyond this realm?”**
The boy, clad in animal hides, gazed at him with fiery hope.
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