In the outside world, unrest was brewing. Across the lands, outrage spread like wildfire. The Seven Deities were a topic on everyone’s lips. Some whispered of Xiao Shi’s might, hoping he would rise in fury, swallowing mountains and rivers, and slaying the final divine being!
Yet the Seventh Deity remained unseen, failing to appear even once.
Shi Hao had once traveled beyond to find the Demon-Striking Stone and the Royal Butterfly, bringing them back to Shi Village. He also fetched rare heavenly treasures from the Shi Kingdom to prepare for the coming confrontation.
“Is this the old site of Shi Village?” a group of children asked in amazement, staring incredulously at the giant crater below.
Golden Roc, Xiao Qing, and Zi Yun descended, carrying a group of youths and children to revisit this once-familiar land, now sprouting greenery and no longer desolate.
Fifty thousand li around had once been drenched in blood, leaving behind a wasteland devoid of life, littered with bones. But now, nature had begun to reclaim it, bringing signs of renewal.
Shi Village had vanished into the skies, leaving behind a vast crater and nothing more. Da Zhuang, Er Meng, and Xiao Rascal were awestruck. Since leaving, this was their first return.
“Hey, there’s something down below!”
The Golden Roc dove low, now vastly different from its former self—an eagle with golden-feathered wings, resembling a true Roc as it landed at the bottom of the chasm.
Xiao Qing landed as well, using its sharp claws to dig through the earth, revealing a massive skeleton gleaming with a purple-gold luster, exuding a mysterious aura of power.
From within Shi Hao’s thick, flowing hair, a golden gleam appeared. The Royal Butterfly fluttered down, soon vanishing into the bones buried below.
“Is this a divine skeleton?” the group exclaimed in shock.
The Golden Roc and Xiao Qing tore through the earth, revealing the enormous skeleton slumped at the crater’s base. It stretched a hundred zhang, its entire frame composed of purple-gold bone.
“Long ago, Willow God took root here, drawing on the divine power of this skeleton to recover just a sliver of its divine might, thereby surviving,” Shi Hao murmured. He understood this history well.
Though Willow God had bathed in ten-thousand zhang thunderbolts from the heavens, cutting all ties to life, this divine corpse, though not comparable, had provided some benefit to the withered tree.
By establishing roots here and enduring over a decade of quietude, Willow God managed to sprout a single branch, regaining a bit of its former vitality.
The Royal Butterfly fluttered gracefully, carrying a sparkling purple-gold crystal up to Shi Hao’s shoulder, nibbling at it with a crisp “clink.”
“What is this?” Shi Hao placed them in his palm.
It was a pebble the size of a fingernail, resembling a shard of purple gold, slightly transparent, with a soft luster and an unusual energy pulse.
The Demon-Striking Stone let out a cry, wriggling free to fight the Royal Butterfly for the crystal, eager to devour it.
“Stop fighting!” Shi Hao interrupted.
But both stone and butterfly darted back into the crater, diving into the massive skeleton, scavenging furiously.
Qing Feng, Er Meng, Xiao Rascal, and others gathered in curiosity, watching intently. The children, wild as monkeys, peered over and rushed down into the valley to explore.
“This god was huge! So big that it’s over a hundred zhang long! What did it eat to grow like this?” a young child exclaimed, full of innocent wonder.
Shi Hao and the others arrived at the crater’s bottom, surrounding the colossal skeleton in awe. The purple bones were incredibly hard, ringing like metal when struck, still pulsing with faint energy.
“What kind of crystal is this?” Shi Hao inquired of the Demon-Striking Stone, discovering a dozen more crystalline formations within the divine remains. The largest was as big as a walnut, brimming with energy.
“This is Divine Crystal, a byproduct of only the most powerful Deities. I never thought such a divine treasure would be hidden here,” the Demon-Striking Stone explained as it nibbled.
“Unfortunately, the rest is dross—impure divine energy, chaotic and tainted,” the stone lamented.
Tasting a few, both the Demon-Striking Stone and Royal Butterfly dared not take another bite. The crystals held not only divine energy but also traces of death, too impure to absorb comfortably.
Clearly, these were remnants left over after Willow God’s absorption.
“Actually, the divine energy stored in this crystal is terrifying. If harnessed properly, it could become a devastating weapon,” the stone added.
“Can we forge it into a killing weapon? For Big Brother,” Qing Feng suggested, concerned for Shi Hao.
“That’s exactly what I was planning. Let me think this through. This massive corpse still brims with unspent essence, every part a treasure,” the stone answered.
Eventually, the children retreated from the crater, giving the stone space, knowing full well how critical this task was.
Shi Hao, Er Meng, Xiao Rascal, and the rest revisited familiar sights, guiding the children throughout the area. They observed how fierce birds and beasts had returned to dwell here.
The final battle was coming, and Shi Hao had come to remember the past, fearing he might not see these places again. He revisited cherished memories.
In the end, the group brought the giant purple skeleton back to Shi Village. The Demon-Striking Stone sought the help of Mao Qiu and Xiao Hong to jointly refine and forge it.
“Use the Divine Crystals as a power source, the purple skeleton as prime material. Craft a one-time-use ultimate weapon. Augment it with formations, and the devastation will be unimaginable!” the stone declared confidently.
Days later, in the capital of the Shi Kingdom.
An old man strode in slowly, each step marked by a unique rhythm and cadence. The streets teemed with people, but despite the crowd, he touched no one as he entered the city.
He wore a tattered Daoist robe, his skin weathered, hair gray, yet his eyes shone with vitality. He moved through the city with calm, taking in every sight with composed fascination.
Before long, he stood in the palace, startling the guards who had no idea how he had entered.
“These formations are quite skillful,” he murmured, nodding approvingly as he scrutinized the palace arrays with narrowed eyes.
He made no move to harm anyone but said, “Where is your Sovereign? I wish to speak with him and discuss matters.”
The guards remained silent—whether or not they knew the location of Shi Village, they would not have divulged such information.
“Hmm…” the old man did not retaliate. He circled the palace once, then vanished into thin air. Half an hour later, he appeared at a secret estate outside the imperial city, where he met Peng Jiu.
“Don’t be alarmed. I come in peace, seeking an audience with your Shi Emperor,” he smiled kindly.
Peng Jiu’s hair stood on end. Even at his strongest, he doubted he could scratch a single hair on the old man’s body. Standing before him was like a lamb before a divine beast, hopelessly outmatched.
“The Emperor has departed. I do not know where he is,” Peng Jiu forced himself to remain calm and answered.
“Is that so… Then I will wait in Shi City,” the old man’s figure faded away, disappearing into the void.
Back in Shi Village, Shi Hao ascended the Sacred Altar.
At this moment, the entire village gathered to see him off. Though their mouths opened, no one knew how to say goodbye. All words had already been spoken.
“Child, protect your body, preserve your life. Living is more important than anything else!” an elder cried.
“Uncle Hao, we’ll wait for you! You promised to take us to raid the Golden Roc’s nest and hunt divine beasts. You must come back!” a child wiped tears.
…
Unwilling to watch the farewell unfold, Shi Hao activated the portal and surged into it, vanishing from sight.
“Your Majesty!” a guard shouted in alarm.
The moment Shi Hao emerged from the Imperial Altar, he sensed a colossal pressure. The city pulsed with a powerful energy—an individual radiated like a golden sun blazing in the void.
Invisible to ordinary eyes, the presence was unmistakable to the guard, who rushed to the palace’s highest peak. From there, he saw a distant tavern glowing with golden light!
Though twenty li apart, both felt each other instantly—the acute awareness of mighty beings.
The tavern shimmered radiantly, visible to Shi Hao in perfect clarity. An old figure radiated golden divine flames, a being ablaze like a golden sun.
The old man was drinking alone, yet as if seeing across space, he raised his cup from twenty li away and nodded respectfully in Shi Hao’s direction.
“Long have I heard of Emperor Shi,” the old man smiled, downing a cup of wine.
Shi Hao summoned wine and a goblet to his hand. Sitting atop the palace hall, he acknowledged with a toast and drank.
“Why not share a table for a drink?” the old man stood, his smile warm.
“Distance breeds harmony,” Shi Hao replied.
“Emperor Shi, you are too cautious. Our meeting need not end in conflict,” said the old man, introducing himself as Huang Yu, a messenger from the Xian Hall.
Xian Hall—an ancient and mysterious force of terrifying might. Shi Hao had only glimpsed fragments from the shattered consciousness of the Three Deities, already enough to grasp their transcendence.
“I, too, hope for peace, free from war,” Shi Hao nodded.
“Would young sir consider joining our Xian Hall?” the old man inquired.
Startled, Shi Hao was unsure why he was extended such an invitation.
“You may not know much about us yet. But joining would not diminish your talent or status,” the old man smiled, offering a brief explanation.
The Xian Hall—never more than five members across all generations! Yet their might was unfathomable. Even in the Upper Realms, no one dared provoke them. Each Hall emissary represented invincibility, unmatched in battle.
Shi Hao was stunned. If true, such a revelation was beyond imagination.
He knew the Upper Realms teemed with countless races, lands stretching beyond comprehension—countless times vaster than the Lower Realm. Among such vastness, geniuses and even gods clashed for supremacy.
In such a world, a sect with fewer than five members through each and every generation, yet standing equal to mighty sects and boasting invincibility—its might must be unimaginable.
“What is your relation to the Supreme RulerHall?” Shi Hao asked.
According to what he knew, the Supreme RulerHall even outnumbered them—boasting only one member per generation, shrouded in mystery. From the Three Deities, he had learned a tenuous link between the two.
“Hehe…” the old man chuckled, finally replying with two words: “Rivals.”
Shi Hao was astonished—it was the last answer he expected. He thought perhaps they were of the same lineage, but instead, they were enemies.
“The Supreme RulerHall once resided in the Upper Realms. But countless eons ago, they were defeated and fled to the Lower Realms,” the old man smiled.
Shi Hao was taken aback. Such a revelation was almost unbelievable.
It was said that the Supreme RulerHall possessed the Middle Chapter of the Primordial Truth—Entitled “Transcendence,” heralding immortality. Its members, once revealed, became unmatched anywhere in heaven or earth.
Such an invincible sect had still suffered defeat. Then just what kind of sect was Xian Hall? Could it possess scriptures rivaling even the “Transcendence” chapter?
“I heard a rumor that you once claimed yourself the last inheritor of Supreme RulerHall. Is that true?” the old man smiled, eyes narrowing slightly.
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