That night, people witnessed countless stars shattering in the heavens, more dazzling than fireworks, exploding across the cosmos before vanishing forever. The starry sky seemed cleansed, left dim and lifeless. On the earth below, waves of terrifying energy surged. If not for the intervention of supreme power suppressing it, sparing the vast lands from devastation, everything might have turned to ashes.
At dawn, the sun rose—unscathed, still radiant. Yet, deep in the night before, the moon had diminished, a piece of it forcibly carved away by an unfathomable force. Such was the might of an Immortal Sect Master—once bloodshed began, all things withered.
Golden morning light bathed the land, brimming with vitality. Shi Hao stood atop a high platform, inhaling and exhaling wisps of purple energy, his mind gradually emptying into tranquility. The heavens remained, the cosmos endured. As long as he lived, any hope could still be realized.
The sun climbed high, yet neither the Willow God nor the Little Pagoda had returned. He remained motionless, waiting in silence. The great battle had long since ended, the world restored to peace. The spiritual energy seemed even denser now, though faint traces of blood lingered—perceptible only to cultivators.
A mighty one had perished! The essence they released nourished the vast Desolate Wasteland, causing its spiritual energy to surge—a terrifying, unheard-of phenomenon. The Desolate Wasteland spanned millions, perhaps tens of millions of miles, boundless and vast!
By noon, the Little Pagoda appeared, its body marred with scars—charred by lightning, grazed by chaotic sword energy, still radiating heat from the flames of the Dao. Though battered, it was in high spirits.
“The one wielding my true form is likely doomed. He won’t last many years. Sooner or later, I’ll ascend to the Upper Realm and finish him!” the Little Pagoda declared fiercely.
“And the Willow God?” Shi Hao was worried—it still hadn’t returned.
“After the battle, it learned something crucial and went in search of a legendary opportunity. Turns out, the Desolate Wasteland hides treasures after all. It might just end up benefiting from this,” the Little Pagoda said enviously.
But the treasure seemed useless to it. Though it knew of it, the Little Pagoda chose to return rather than compete. As it put it, certain figures in the Upper Realm would be furious—this battle had shattered the heavens, severed countless stars, and finally revealed traces of that great opportunity. Yet, time ran out, forcing those involved to retreat.
“Several died, shaking the foundations of history. The Upper Realm will surely be thrown into chaos. Others are gravely wounded, nearing death,” the Little Pagoda gloated.
Those who descended in desperation were all at the end of their lifespans, fighting for a chance at survival. But reality was cruel—how many could truly defy the heavens? In the end, blood and life were the only offerings left to fate.
With the calamity past, the world brimmed with vitality. Even ordinary folk felt their spirits lifted.
“I took a trip beyond the heavens—horrifying. All the Venerable Ones and Sacred Beings were captured. An old witch, a madman, and a Daoist—utterly ruthless,” the Little Pagoda recounted.
The Daoist, in particular, had shocked it, clashing with the Western Sect’s Six-Zhang Golden Body Patriarch beyond the heavens. Half the fallen stars were severed by their battle.
Shi Hao was stunned. The meteor shower he had witnessed the previous night—countless falling stars—was the result of two monstrous beings fighting.
“Pitiful. Those who fled the Desolate Wasteland for the heavens still couldn’t escape their fate,” the Little Pagoda remarked.
“Even the Western Sect, Mount Bujie, and the Sky-Mending Sect were attacked?” Shi Hao was intrigued.
“Yes. If not for their formidable strength in the Upper Realm and the presence of their old sect masters, their lineages might have been wiped out,” the Little Pagoda said, flashing with amusement.
Now, the disciples of these great powers in the Desolate Wasteland likely remained unaware of the upheaval in their sects, still believing their influence unshaken.
“This time, I suffered—but also gained. My true form is damaged, but I’ve learned much. I need to recuperate. Don’t disturb me,” the Little Pagoda said before vanishing into the World Treasure Box.
Shi Hao stood still, gazing at the sky, bathed in sunlight, his body glowing brilliantly. He murmured, “The three sects suffered heavy losses, even losing some of their ancestral figures. They should stay quiet for a while.”
Then he laughed heartily and strode out of the palace.
The capital had long lifted its lockdown, bustling with life. The clamor of the mortal world, once tiresome, now felt warmly familiar after the calamity. Shi Hao surveyed the scene, nodding in approval.
Upon returning to the palace, he was met by the Enchantress, radiant as a blooming flower. She moved with ethereal grace, exuding both charm and mischief.
“You seem happy. Did the Interception Sect gain much?” Shi Hao asked.
“Mmm. I heard some Upper Realm bigshots died. I’m thrilled—it means a spot’s opening up for me,” she replied boldly, her eyes curving like crescent moons.
Shi Hao smiled. She truly feared nothing, speaking so brazenly.
“Why seek me out? Planning to dig up a Supreme Treasure?”
“That was a trap—it killed a few bigshots. I’m delighted,” she giggled, waving a fist, her hair fluttering, eyes sparkling.
“Then what brings you here?”
“Of course, it’s the ‘Young Man Cultivation Plan’!” she teased.
Shi Hao’s smile froze. Unfazed, he spread his arms. “Come, see how well I’ve been cultivated. Experience it firsthand.”
The Enchantress, lithe and elegant, twirled away on a cloud, evading his grasp. “Don’t get fresh!” she chided.
Shi Hao laughed. “Who’s taking advantage of whom? My Dao body is peerless. Miss this chance, and you’ll regret it forever.”
“Pfft!” She rolled her eyes and plopped onto a dragon throne. “I bring two pieces of news—one good, one bad. Which first?”
Shi Hao remained calm. “Your choice.”
“The bad one: Moon Fairy has a problem—a big one,” she said gravely.
“And the good?”
“The good is that I discovered it. So for you, it’s an opportunity. Moon Fairy’s in trouble now—hahaha!” The Enchantress, though breathtakingly beautiful, cackled with unbridled glee.
“What exactly did you find?” Shi Hao frowned.
“Be careful. Her consciousness might be sealed with a peculiar divine thought. Wait till I fetch something, then we’ll deal with her!” she said wickedly. “Moon Fairy, trying to outwit me? Your luck’s run out—whether you’re tied to a goddess or not!”
She left as swiftly as she came, warning Shi Hao not to provoke Moon Fairy excessively lest complications arise.
Shi Hao sighed and shook his head.
Later, he visited Moon Fairy in a secluded bamboo grove. She was pristine as a celestial blossom, serene and detached.
“Moon Fairy, when’s our wedding night?” Shi Hao teased, breaking her icy composure.
Moon Fairy, clad in snow-white robes, remained unmoved.
“Come, let’s tour the city,” Shi Hao said, suddenly wrapping an arm around her slender waist and pulling her close.
She struggled, alarmed. If seen together in public, her saintly image would shatter.
“Afraid? I’m announcing our relationship to the world. No more hiding in the palace,” he declared grandly, pointing outward. “Let all understand my will!”
Moon Fairy resisted fiercely.
“Fine. If you won’t expose us, then attend me while I bathe.”
“What?!” She recoiled, flustered.
In the end, she nervously delivered his clothes to the hot spring before fleeing.
“Hey, Fairy, you saw part of me—that’s unfair!” Shi Hao called after her.
Moon Fairy bolted.
“What’s her secret?” Shi Hao mused, awaiting the Enchantress’s return.
Days passed without her, but a visitor arrived—a middle-aged man from Mount Bujie, bearing a golden decree.
Shi Hao remained seated, unmoved.
“This is Mount Bujie’s decree. It should’ve reached you sooner, but we couldn’t find you. Accept it,” the man said, though he didn’t hand it over.
“Expecting me to kneel?” Shi Hao’s voice was calm but carried immense authority.
The man trembled, recalling the fallen Five Venerables. In the past, Mount Bujie’s decrees commanded reverence—even emperors bowed. But Shi Hao simply snatched it from the air.
“Daring to demand my submission?!” he roared.
He had heard of this decree before the calamity, when this man sought him in the Fire Nation’s capital. Later, the man had arrogantly demanded Shi Hao’s presence.
Now, the decree unfurled, golden light surged, symbols shimmered, and divine beasts materialized—awe-inspiring. The seal of Mount Bujie pulsed with overwhelming pressure.
Shi Hao scoffed, resisting the aura, then tossed the decree aside.
“You—!” The man seethed but held his tongue.
“Me what? I heard you berated me for ignoring this decree. Why deliver it now?”
The man stayed silent. He hadn’t wanted to come but feared repercussions for failing his duty, especially after Mount Bujie’s losses here.
Under Shi Hao’s dragon-like pressure, the man collapsed, sensing murderous intent.
Finally, Shi Hao retrieved the decree, studying it intently before closing his eyes in contemplation.
When he opened them, lightning seemed to flash. “Very well. I’ll go to Mount Bujie—to find my parents.”
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