In the Upper Realm, within an ancient hall with peeling walls:
“I feel as though I have already seen a sky dyed in blood, countless lives withering away,” one figure spoke calmly, his voice serene, his entire form shrouded in chaotic mist.
“The twilight of heaven, the ode of life, a path paved with blood and bones, the crimson moon traversing the sky, opening a rift in the void,” another figure murmured from atop a lotus cushion, surrounded by swirling mists, vague and ominously alluring.
…
In the Lower Realm, at the Three Lives Mountain:
Shi Hao had been in seclusion for two months when one day he suddenly felt something amiss and awoke from his meditation.
“It’s been a long time, and everything has remained quiet. Could something be about to happen?” he murmured to himself, rising to his feet and gazing around. Verdant peaks and lush valleys stretched before him, brimming with life.
He left the mountains and arrived at a small town, sitting in a tavern. Suddenly, he felt an inexplicable longing for Stone Village. He missed his loved ones and yearned to see his parents.
“Why do I suddenly miss them? Why do I long so deeply to see my family?” Shi Hao whispered, not having yet left the Lower Realm, yet already reluctant to depart.
Children laughed and played nearby. Older children ran through the alleys, while younger ones staggered after them, eventually tumbling, crying with tears streaming down their cheeks.
Instantly, several older kids rushed over, lifting the little one to his feet. The small child, with tear-drenched lashes and a mix of weeping and laughter, was delighted beyond measure.
Touched by their innocent joy, Shi Hao recalled his own carefree childhood—those days of running around without a worry, his heart pure and simple.
“Those truly were happy times,” Shi Hao murmured, rising to his feet.
Half an hour later, Shi Hao strode down the road accompanied by a group of noisy children.
“Big brother, I want a sugarcane candy!”
A little girl, about two or three years old, sat perched on his left shoulder, stretching her tiny hand toward a candy cart ahead while quietly swallowing hard.
“Me too!” a little boy, just learning to walk and still sniffling from his earlier fall, chimed in from his right shoulder, doing the same.
“Boss, one sugarcane candy for each child,” Shi Hao said with a grin.
“Coming right up!” the vendor beamed.
The children burst into cheers, swarming forward to surround the cart, stretching out their little hands eagerly.
Eventually, every child was blissfully satisfied, joy radiating from their faces as they gathered around Shi Hao, progressing forward together.
Shi Hao reflected inwardly, wondering if he had missed something. A child’s heart is the purest and easiest to satisfy, free of worries and cares. Yet he had always strived to ascend to the Upper Realm, caught in endless struggles.
“This is my path, but these children will eventually grow as well,” he mused, glancing at the passersby along the street—people toiling for their livelihoods. In another ten years, these children would join their ranks.
Compared to them, he had a much higher starting point in seeking Dao and transcendence. He should be content, smiling every day.
“I should laugh, I should be joyful, even if I leave my loved ones behind and enter the Upper Realm. I will keep that spirit,” Shi Hao chuckled lightheartedly, flashing a row of bright teeth. “And as for those bastards who want to oppose me—I’ll just eat them all up!”
“Ahh, that smells delicious… Those earth-dragon dumplings are said to contain powerful essence. I’ve never eaten one before, though—I’ve heard they’re a really fierce beast.”
Passing by a large dumpling shop, an older child swallowed audibly, mumbling to himself as he covered his embarrassment with a tattered sleeve.
Hearing this, the other children also turned toward the shop, their little faces smudged with dirt, eyes gleaming brightly, silently drooling.
“If you want to try them, come on, I’ll treat you all!” Shi Hao smiled.
“Really? That’s awesome!” the children erupted into joyous celebration. Even the two little ones on his shoulders couldn’t stay still, practically leaping off him to jump around on the ground.
In the end, Shi Hao brought them down the street, from stall to stall, indulging every small delight these little ones could crave. When the time finally came to part, the children clung to his sleeves, reluctant to let go.
“Goodbye!”
Shi Hao departed, vanishing from the town and reappearing atop Three Lives Mountain. He reflected inwardly: though he had grown more powerful, he had no desire to distance himself from the mortal world. In fact, he cherished this feeling of connection.
“I am a man, flesh and blood. I do not understand why those so-called gods always look down from above. If they wish to remain that way, let them stay gods—why descend at all?”
In Hong Domain, a vast swamp:
Mists drifted heavily, exuding heavy yin energy. Mud crocodiles lurked within, waiting silently for prey.
Ahead loomed a strange and eerie altar, entirely black, gleaming ominously, its surface etched with countless divine and demonic glyphs capable of piercing through the Netherworld.
Several figures materialized on the altar, standing silently at its corners, each inspecting the inscriptions with meticulous attention.
Finally, a gray-clad figure broke the silence, his voice rasping. “Begin.”
As he spoke, they all ascended into the air, chanting in unison. The altar flared to life, emitting jet-black beams that pierced the sky, terrifying all living things.
In an instant, the mud crocodiles in the swamp went mad with fear, fleeing desperately. But it was futile; they exploded instantly, their blood and souls transforming into red lights that floated toward the altar.
“A blood sacrifice to heaven and earth, the twilight of gods, paving the way to eternity, the descent of heaven!” someone whispered, his voice like a curse, stirring the wind to blow mournfully through the trees, leaves scattering into the sky.
Boom!
A gray-robed figure flicked his sleeve, and millions of people cried out in agony, tumbling from the sky like rain, filling the air and splattering onto the dark altar.
It was a catastrophe, a living hell on earth.
Some fell directly onto the altar, while others exploded midair, dissolving into blood rain that released threadlike streams of light, which were absorbed by the altar’s divine and demonic glyphs.
At that moment, the altar seemed to transform into a world of its own, endlessly absorbing all that fell from the heavens, never filling. Blood flowed, staining the foundation, seeping into its Wen Luo.
Glyphs blazed like tiny snakes slithering through the air, transforming into lightning, accompanied by crimson flashes, soul-force, and the anguished cries of countless people.
It was a tragedy beyond words.
Millions of lives were offered in sacrifice, spilled blood fueling the altar’s power, all to establish contact with the Upper Realm, summon divine beings, and forge a passageway.
Boom!
Another figure moved, opening a crimson gourd in his hand. Countless living beings spilled from it, some exploding in midair, others splattering on the altar—pitiful, tragic, beyond comprehension.
On the other side, the remaining figures acted in unison, each unleashing their techniques, hurling captured lives onto the altar. Souls bloomed, and countless vibrant lives vanished.
The altar was a grotesque vision—blood gleamed vividly, soul-force and life essence accumulating until the altar itself seemed almost too terrifying to behold, as though it could draw in a person’s very soul.
“I don’t want to die! What is happening? Why am I here?” cried a captured cultivator, but his voice was in vain. He continued to fall, his bones shattering, his body broken.
If even cultivators suffered thus, how much worse was it for ordinary people?
“Mother! Where are you? What’s happening? Why—” cried a group of children, falling from the sky. Cold wind howled, filling their mouths before they could speak another word.
“Heaven above, open your eyes! How can it be allowed—demons and monsters roaming freely, ravaging the world…” an elderly man cried out in anguish.
…
All was helpless. Countless lives were thrown into the altar, their existence reduced to blood essence, their souls collected. It was an atrocity too cruel to witness.
“Blood—Sacrifice!”
Finally, every cry of sorrow and wail of grief was swallowed by these two merciless words as the Venerable Ones in the sky worked in unison, advancing the ritual to its climax.
On the altar, soul-force surged alongside bloodlight, black mist drifting outward—a terrifying and eerie sight. In an instant, it opened a connection to the Upper Realm, preparing to tear open a gateway.
In the Upper Realm, within the mysterious hall:
“I can hear their call. The blood sacrifice has begun. Let us act together and open the path. Let beings who have ignited divine flames descend to the Lower Realm to seek out those treasures of fate,” one dreamlike figure said, sitting cross-legged and forming a seal.
Beside him, another figure flicked his sleeve.
A gigantic skeleton appeared, standing within the ancient hall. The space around it became blurred, warped, and opened automatically, revealing countless pathways.
This was a Void Beast, once equal in might to the greatest beings of old. It had perished in the Netherworld, but its skeleton remained intact, capable of transcending dimensions.
“This is the supreme treasure of my Netherworld sect. Searching the Upper Realm, you will find none like it. Fellow cultivators, let us begin,” the Lord of the Netherworld declared coldly, his massive shadow seated on a lotus cushion.
“It is still not enough. We must also sacrifice the skin of the Void Beast to truly open a path, aiding us in challenging the will of heaven and allowing our disciples to remain in the Lower Realm permanently, not just temporarily.” someone added.
A silence fell. Then, the Netherworld sovereign raised his hand, and a massive beast hide flew forth, covering the skeleton.
“Let them proceed!” someone commanded.
Instantly, over a dozen beings appeared—representing various races, each having ignited the divine flame of godhood. To mortals, they were Invincible, unconquerable.
“It cannot be stronger. These are the only ones we can choose. Otherwise, when challenging the will of heaven, we shall be wiped out completely, with no hope of success.”
Each of them flew into a bronze furnace, a sacred artifact of their sect. Ordinary gods could neither forge nor possess such a divine tool, nor even glimpse one.
“The Void Crucible!” someone whispered. It was undoubtedly a grand undertaking.
The cauldron shrank to the size of a fist before vanishing into the skull of the Void Beast, disappearing completely.
“Blood sacrifice to heaven and earth!”
“Challenging the will of heaven!”
…
These cries echoed within the great hall as all cultivators formed seals, channeling their power to open a passage connecting with the altar below.
The area was instantly engulfed in howling wind and surging chaotic mist, the hall itself twisting, distorting, becoming unrecognizable.
At the same time, a strange bolt of lightning tore through the sky, transforming into a celestial blade that slashed downward, splitting the hall asunder with a deafening roar, sending shards of stone flying.
Even though an unparalleled formation had been set, it was effortlessly cleaved through, the hall damaged.
“Challenging the will of heaven! Fellow cultivators, unite your strength, or you will be devoured yourselves—there will be dreadful consequences!”
Crackle!
Only during the birth of the universe were such chaotic lightning bolts seen, rarely appearing otherwise. Yet now, the sky poured forth countless such bolts.
The cultivators radiated with divine light, each becoming a vessel of Dao, emitting infinite radiance and glyph-covered energy in all directions.
Shi!
Celestial lights rained down, even more immense, the shadows of terrifying entities gradually coalescing.
Boom!
Finally, a massive collision occurred.
A crack formed, a passage opened, and the Void Beast, roaring, dove downward, descending to the Lower Realm in an instant.
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