Shi Yun Feng, a sage of ancient times, was once a powerful servant who descended from the “Xian Hall,” a domain shrouded in mystique. His might was said to rival the combined strength of four other deities who had ignited the divine flame, setting him apart as an unparalleled force.
The “Xian Hall” was an ancient and formidable realm, deeply connected to the sanctum of the Overlords. Yet, due to the fragmented consciousness of the three gods, Shi Hao could not fully uncover its secrets, leaving its true power obscured.
The second most powerful among the seven divine beings hailed from the Western Sect, possessing the Body of Adamantine Indestructibility. He had attained an exalted level in the cultivation of the ZhangSix Golden Body, wielding several great divine techniques that made him a formidable adversary.
The remaining few deities were relatively equal in strength, with no significant disparity among them.
Shi Hao contemplated the grave circumstances. The remaining four divine beings grew ever more terrifying, presenting an immense challenge. How could he turn the tide?
“If I were to ascend to the rank of Sovereign and allow my Immortal Golden Body Armor to evolve further, I could confront a single deity. However, the outcome of life and death remains uncertain.” He muttered, his brow furrowed in concern.
Once the divine flame was ignited, one transcended the realm of mortals, rendering the forces of the mundane world insufficient to oppose it. This transformation surpassed all previous great breakthroughs in cultivation.
It was evident that the Western Wastes could only orchestrate a single deadly trap. The same strategy would not succeed again. The remaining four deities would not fall for it twice.
“What should I do? Is there truly no way out?” Shi Hao murmured, his heart heavy with uncertainty. How could he dismantle this deadly predicament? A premonition of impending doom gnawed at his spirit. Was he about to face some calamity?
He departed from the Western Wastes Mountains and soared toward the capital of the Shi Kingdom.
In truth, Shi Hao had recently obtained a piece of more valuable information—a prophecy jointly deduced by the higher realm masters, predicting the locations of several treasures in the lower world.
Although the exact locations could not be determined, they had outlined a general range!
This was undoubtedly a grand opportunity, a piece of news of immeasurable worth. Unfortunately, for Shi Hao, it held no immediate value. His primary objective was survival and the resolution of his current danger.
However, it seemed impossible. For now, there was no solution.
As he approached the capital of the Shi Kingdom, Shi Hao halted and descended in a small town to inquire about the situation in the royal city.
After some investigation, he found that no one knew the city’s condition. There were no conflicts or wars reported; it was as if nothing had ever transpired. The more he heard, the more his brow furrowed.
“Ah?” Suddenly, he spotted a young girl—a familiar figure—despite her plain attire, she exuded an ethereal grace.
In the small town, the girl felt his presence and turned her head, laying eyes upon him. She was visibly startled, covering her mouth in shock, saying, “It’s you!”
Shi Hao recalled her name—Yu Zi Mo. He had met her once in the Hundred Severed Mountains; she was one of the two prodigies of the Yu Clan, possessing a rare gift—the Art of Spirit Communion—which allowed her to glimpse fragments of the future.
When the Yu Clan fell, Shi Hao had not pursued the remnants, allowing the women, children, and the elderly to depart unharmed. Yu Zi Mo had not been in the clan at that time and thus escaped destruction.
Yu Zi Mo lowered her head, but after a while, she suddenly lifted her gaze and strode toward him, saying, “If you’re here to kill me, do it.”
“Leave,” Shi Hao said, frowning. He had no intention to dwell on her fate. His thoughts were consumed by the daunting task of confronting the four divine beings.
Suddenly, Yu Zi Mo staggered back. A crack appeared on her forehead, a trickle of blood seeping out. Staring at Shi Hao, her face displayed shock and confusion.
Clearly, she experienced a backlash from her clairvoyance. Looking at Shi Hao, she said, “When I gazed into the future, all I saw was chaos. When I turned back, behind you was only an abyss of nothingness.”
Meeting again, she still reached the same prophecy, just as she had in the Hundred Severed Mountains.
Upon hearing this, Shi Hao raised his gaze to her, asking, “What does this mean?”
“I don’t know,” Yu Zi Mo wiped the blood from her brow, saying, “You… it seems… you do not belong to this entire ancient history. Perhaps… you are about to disappear from this world.”
Shi Hao immediately understood the latter interpretation—his life was in constant peril. But the former puzzled him greatly. He waved his hand, leaving without further thought.
Returning to the Shi Capital, Shi Hao did so unnoticed. The palace was cold and silent, its guards listless, with no divine presence lurking within.
“Peng Jiu!” Soon after, Shi Hao met Peng Jiu at the Royal Estate outside the city. Peng Jiu was hiding there to recover, though his injuries were not life-threatening.
“Your Majesty… you are still alive!” Peng Jiu was stunned. Not only him, but everyone from the palace had assumed Shi Hao’s demise, his early death inevitable.
Who would have imagined he would survive and return safely? Such an unexpected sight made Peng Jiu widen his eyes, overwhelmed with emotion to the point of speechlessness.
Shortly after, the War King, Ming Wang, and others arrived, all of them elated and in disbelief that they could see Shi Hao again—an almost miraculous occurrence.
He had drawn away three powerful deities and managed to survive their pursuit. Could it be that all three of these formidable beings had perished? The mere possibility made their hearts race with excitement.
“Your Majesty, did you destroy them?”
“They are all dead,” Shi Hao replied.
Everyone was stunned. Then their eyes lit up with brilliance, and excitement surged through them like never before.
“Where is Qing Feng?” Shi Hao asked, not seeing him.
At this question, their expressions darkened.
While Shi Hao risked his life to lead the three deities away, Qing Feng was deeply worried, fearing that Shi Hao might perish. He ascended the altar himself, intending to summon help from powerful allies.
As it turned out, Qing Feng had gone to Stone Village and brought back Mao Qiu and Xiao Hong.
At the very same time, two events unfolded. The first was that one of the deities sought out Yang Li, the Armadillo, and the Death God, clashing directly with Mao Qiu and Xiao Hong, and immediately engaged them in battle, heading into the great wilderness.
The outcome remained unknown to this day.
The second event was that another divine being appeared at the ruins of the Mending Heaven Pavilion, destroying everything being rebuilt, patrolling the area in search of something, seemingly intent on unlocking the ancient Sacred Academy.
Upon hearing this, Shi Hao’s heart filled with alarm. Mao Qiu and Xiao Hong had indeed returned, but they had only recently ignited their divine flames, falling short of the might of the seven deities. Such a confrontation risked their lives.
However, he could not blame Qing Feng. The frail young boy had panicked, fearing Shi Hao’s death, and had mobilized every means at his disposal to rescue him.
“Which deity appeared in the palace?” Shi Hao tried to steady his breath, speaking as calmly as possible.
“It was the practitioner from the Western Sect, cultivating the ZhangSix Golden Body, with an exceptionally blazing divine flame radiating outside his body,” Peng Jiu replied.
“What?!” Shi Hao was chilled to the bone at the revelation, his heart sinking. From the three deities he had encountered, he had learned that among the divine beings who had ignited the divine flame, this practitioner ranked second in combat prowess.
Half an hour later, Shi Hao reached the Deep Within of that mountain range, where he beheld toppled peaks and land that had turned to lava and cooled again, a landscape of utter silence.
He searched meticulously, finding blood-stained crimson feathers scattered everywhere—those of Xiao Hong!
Then he discovered a broken iron rod and golden fur—belonging to Mao Qiu!
Shi Hao’s eyes burned with fury, his blood boiling. All these signs pointed to their demise. He even found a charred Vermilion Bird wing and a piece of Mao Qiu’s bone, covered in golden fur and blood, further confirming that the two mighty warriors were likely dead.
“Ahhhh…” Shi Hao roared like a wounded beast, unable to accept the outcome.
“I refuse to let you die!” He screamed, his eyes red. He had found Mao Qiu as a child and raised him, forging an inseparable bond. Although Xiao Hong’s words were sharp-tongued, he had always been a loyal guardian of Stone Village.
How could they die? This tragedy was unbearable for Shi Hao!
Remembering the last battle in the western frontiers, the two mighty warriors had returned to Stone Village but had not taken their divine artifacts with them. Now armed only with their might, how could they fight back? Especially against a master of the Western Sect renowned for being the second strongest among the seven deities, surpassing even Yang Li, the Armadillo, and the Death God combined!
Shi Hao searched frantically, finding more of Mao Qiu’s bones and golden fur and even another half of Xiao Hong’s wing. This sight drove him nearly mad, prompting him to cry out to the heavens.
For the first time, Shi Hao wept bitterly. Ever since he left Stone Village, he had marched forward triumphantly, crushing all adversaries in his path. Never before had he suffered such a tragedy.
In the eyes of the world, he was a genius, an unbeatable young Overlord. Within the Void Divine Realm, he was a rebellious prodigy whose feats were unparalleled, feared even among deities and spirits.
No one had seen this fragile side of him before. In this moment, Shi Hao cried openly, kneeling on the ground, cradling Mao Qiu’s bones and Xiao Hong’s wing, his grief uncontainable.
“I refuse to accept your deaths! I want you both to live again!” he cried out in sorrow and rage, tears rolling down his cheeks as he shouted.
In this moment, he seemed like the fifteen-year-old boy he truly was, no longer the dazzling prodigy known to all as Xiao Shi. He felt helpless and enraged.
Shi Hao searched the entire mountain range before departing in anguish.
He returned directly to the palace, cautiously opening a hidden passage and erasing all traces before rushing inside, making his way to Stone Village.
Originally, he would never have returned, fearing he might bring calamity, but now driven by sorrow, he could not breathe properly without seeing the truth for himself.
Upon arriving, he heard weeping sounds. Many children were wiping tears, and adult villagers bore expressions of sorrow. The entire Stone Village was shrouded in a heavy, oppressive atmosphere.
Shi Hao rushed onto the altar and saw Qing Feng kneeling and weeping before a coffin, a grim omen.
“Mao Qiu! Xiao Hong!” Shi Hao cried out, spitting blood as tears flowed from his eyes. “You died so tragically!”
At that moment, the entire village fell silent, everyone turning to see him, stunned. Qing Feng especially jumped up, examining Shi Hao’s face closely.
“Who the hell… is cursing my death?” Mao Qiu’s weak yet familiar voice broke through.
Then Xiao Hong’s call followed.
Shi Hao froze in disbelief, and then he saw Mao Qiu and Xiao Hong. Within an instant, he shifted from grief to joy, letting out a triumphant cry.
At the same time, the villagers of Stone Village burst into celebration, rushing forward together.
“Ma Qiu, we thought you were already dead, killed by those three bastard gods.”
“Uncle Xiao Hao, you’re alive! This is wonderful!”
…
The crowd surged toward him, lifting him into the air, touching him repeatedly, all grinning broadly with tears in their eyes.
Shi Hao instantly realized the coffin was prepared for him, a symbol of mourning, assuming he had perished rather than for burying Mao Qiu and Xiao Hong.
“We’re all still alive! It feels so amazing!” Shi Hao wiped his tears, showing an embarrassed grin. For the first time in front of everyone, he had lost composure so utterly.
He saw Mao Qiu and Xiao Hong, both grievously wounded. Mao Qiu had lost the lower half of his body entirely, and Xiao Hong’s wings were torn off—both suffered grievous wounds.
Yet both had survived. With the divine flame ignited, their recovery powers were immense. Given time, they could regenerate lost limbs and heal.
“I thought you were dead!” Shi Hao said.
“We nearly were. That golden body was just too powerful—we couldn’t even land a hit,” Mao Qiu said, wincing in pain, his entire body battered, even his core essence fractured.
Xiao Hong was in a similar state, no part of him unscathed, especially his primal glyph bones, which were cracked—gravely so. It would likely take one or two years before they could fully recover.
“It’s okay. I have the Golden Sap of the Sun God Tree. One drop for each of you, and within six months, you’ll be fully healed!” Shi Hao said, pulling out a jade jar and administering a drop to each of them.
He had obtained only three drops in total, one of which he had insisted on giving to his parents. The remaining two had now been given to these two mighty warriors.
“What happened to that practitioner from the Western Sect?” Shi Hao asked.
“He died—we managed to kill him with great difficulty.” Xiao Hong replied.
“He died?” Shi Hao couldn’t believe it. It seemed unreasonable—how could Mao Qiu and Xiao Hong, having just ignited their divine flames, match the second strongest among the seven deities?
“We used the ancestral artifacts of Stone Village,” Mao Qiu explained.
Stone Village possessed two ancestral artifacts—an ancient bone fragment and a beast skin. On this occasion, Mao Qiu and Xiao Hong wielded both relics, activating their ancient seals. These artifacts proved even more powerful than the true divine treasures of the imperial palace.
Shi Hao was taken aback. “Even so, it should have been difficult to kill him.”
“True enough. We had only just ignited our divine flames, while that practitioner from the Western Sect had possessed his for over a hundred years, making him extremely powerful, far surpassing others of his rank,” Xiao Hong nodded.
The most crucial factor was the other ancient relic from Stone Village—the Black Cauldron.
The cauldron was shrouded in mystery. On ordinary occasions, it appeared unremarkable. However, it would display unusual phenomena when the finest medicinal herbs and the blood of ancient fierce beasts were used in alchemical processes.
Following Qing Feng’s suggestion, Mao Qiu and Xiao Hong brought the cauldron. In the heat of battle, it revealed its true power—its defensive capabilities were astonishing. Sheltering within it, they could evade over ninety percent of incoming attacks.
Most crucially, when they were on the brink of death, the cauldron spewed forth a Danflame that turned the Western Sect practitioner to ash.
“This…” Shi Hao was utterly amazed. So, the cauldron was indeed mysterious. He had always suspected its uniqueness, but he never imagined it could not only refine powerful elixirs but also possess such formidable offensive power.
Shi Hao hadn’t expected that the second strongest among the seven deities could be eliminated so easily.
“Where is the cauldron now? I will use it to slay another deity!” Shi Hao asked.
News of either his ambush against the three deities or of Mao Qiu and Xiao Hong’s victory over the Western Sect’s practitioner had not yet spread.
He wanted to wield the cauldron and head to the Mending Heaven Pavilion, eliminating the isolated deity there and eradicating a major threat.
“It vanished,” Mao Qiu sighed.
As he and Xiao Hong jointly activated it, the cauldron emitted a Danflame, effortlessly incinerating the Western Sect practitioner. Then, within the firelight, it disappeared.
One surprise after another, one event after another—from profound grief to ecstatic joy—left Shi Hao numb. Upon hearing of the cauldron’s disappearance, he felt stunned but not overly shocked—only a deep sense of regret.
“I vaguely saw the cauldron crack open, its black metallic skin peeling away, revealing a white jade-like surface as it transformed into a bone cauldron before vanishing.” Xiao Hong explained.
Master of the Fire Arts, he was especially sensitive during the cauldron’s emission of the Danflame. In that brief moment, he glimpsed an indistinct vision—the bone-white cauldron fading into the firelight.
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