Chapter 765: The Sacred Relic

On the vast grasslands, a dozen True Gods of the Celestial Clan had gone mad, scouring the land in a frenzied search, only to return empty-handed.

“Why haven’t our Heavenly Gods arrived yet?” Their eyes burned with fury, having lost something so sacred and crucial.

Had they been more cautious, had the Heavenly Gods arrived just a step sooner, this would never have happened. Regret and self-blame gnawed at their hearts like ravenous beasts.

“Who is this person?” A group of experts wore grim expressions, itching to find the culprit and flay him alive with the most excruciating tortures.

“He can’t have escaped far with just a Void-Shattering Talisman. We can track his coordinates. But that movement technique of his is too bizarre—unbelievably fast,” one True God said, his face dark.

The others also looked troubled. They were True Gods, yet their quarry was merely a Supreme Being, yet he had outsped them and slipped away.

“One of his techniques is the human race’s great divine ability, ‘Shrinking the Earth to an Inch.’ The other belongs to a divine avian,” an elderly True God said, his experience vast.

“I think it resembled the Golden Roc’s movement technique,” another added, recalling the faint glimpse of golden wings behind Shi Hao’s back.

“Wrong. It was even faster than the Golden Roc’s technique!” the old True God corrected.

“Faster than the Golden Roc? Then could it be—” Someone’s eyes widened in realization.

“Exactly. It must be that brat—he’s taking revenge!” The old True God’s face darkened, cold light flashing in his eyes.

“That kid our clan captured but later escaped?” Another expert’s gaze turned sinister, his fists clenching. A former prisoner had snatched their great fortune?!

“Who else but him would know the Kun Peng’s technique?” The old True God’s expression soured. He had guessed it—this was none other than Huang, the Shi Hao from the lower realm!

“Has he grown tired of living?!” One man stood up, baring his snow-white teeth in a chilling grin. “This little dog—we’ve been searching for him, and now he’s exposed himself. He won’t escape this time!”

The other True Gods also seethed with rage, their killing intent erupting. The temperature around the divine mine plummeted instantly.

“I think he deliberately left clues, wanting us to know it was him. This is blatant revenge—he’s telling us he’s here, making our Celestial Clan suffer,” someone remarked.

“A mere Supreme Being, stealing what belongs to our clan—unbearable! My heart… burns as if scorched by hellfire!” a True God muttered, nearly driven mad by the thought of Shi Hao’s vengeance, his blood boiling with fury.

“He succeeded, filling us with regret and torment. Hmph, let’s hope he never falls into my hands!” Another’s hair whipped wildly as his gaze sharpened like blades.

They believed the lost sacred stone likely contained a nascent “Immortal Seed”—a loss too great to bear. Any major sect would go insane over it.

This… could forge a peerless expert!

For they had heard that in the ancient Great Decisive Battle of the Three Thousand Provinces, the champion had used an “Immortal Seed” to achieve the Divine Flame Realm, standing unrivaled among their generation.

—

Deep in the grasslands, Shi Hao had no idea how many thousands of miles he had fled. Even after using the Void-Shattering Talisman, he hadn’t stopped, constantly shifting directions as he raced onward.

Finally, as the sun began to set, he halted, certain he had shaken off the Celestial Clan’s experts.

“What exactly is this thing?” He examined the object in his hand.

Wrapped in a swirling mist, it fluctuated in size—sometimes as large as a millstone, other times as small as a longan fruit.

Its weight also varied unpredictably—sometimes heavier than a mountain, other times light as straw.

Shi Hao’s body was covered in bone scripts, his divine power sustaining the object. At times, it was so heavy that without his support, it might have sunk straight into the earth.

Eventually, it stabilized, growing light enough to rest on the grass without sinking.

Shi Hao sat cross-legged, extending his divine sense to inspect it closely.

The mist was thick, obscuring the treasure within.

“Is this Primordial Chaos Qi?” he wondered. It was legendary, and the Celestial Clan’s True Gods had exclaimed it might be just that.

Rumors said Primordial Chaos Qi could nurture life and forge peerless treasures. It was a mystical substance—if gathered in sufficient quantities, it could serve as immortal-grade material.

But its most unique trait was that its presence signaled the birth of something divine, for it absorbed the essence of the world.

Called “mother qi,” it acted like an umbilical cord, linking to the treasure it nurtured, channeling the world’s origin and the Great Dao.

After careful examination, Shi Hao confirmed it was indeed Primordial Chaos Qi, matching the descriptions in ancient bone texts!

This substance could weigh enough to crush mountains or float weightlessly in the void.

Moreover, it harmonized effortlessly with the Dao, imprinting the laws of heaven and earth onto the treasure it nurtured.

“If this is what nourishes the treasure inside, how precious must the real prize be?” Shi Hao’s eyes burned with excitement.

To the outside world, even the Primordial Chaos Qi was a rare treasure. If gathered in bulk, it could be refined into immortal material. What, then, of the treasure it enveloped?

The mist was peculiar—even his dual-pupiled vision struggled to penetrate it. Carefully, he reached into the Primordial Chaos Qi, probing to discern its contents.

The mist resisted, pushing his hand away, isolating the object within.

After multiple attempts, he succeeded—and his expression turned odd.

Because its shape was… an egg!

“An Immortal Seed?” He was stunned.

Others used “Immortal Seed” broadly—a drop of immortal blood, a fragment of immortal bone—anything that could be used to plant the Dao in the Divine Flame Realm for supreme evolution.

But he had literally obtained a “seed”—an egg that might hatch a living being.

An immortal egg… The thought made Shi Hao’s eyes gleam. Could it be a True Dragon egg? Or perhaps a Phoenix egg?

“If I ate this, what kind of fortune would I gain?” he mused, nearly drooling.

Anyone hearing him would gape, then scold him—you glutton, you prodigal, your thoughts are too unconventional!

The egg shifted slowly, shrinking from three feet in diameter to one inch, then expanding again, its size unstable and puzzling.

Shi Hao refrained from reckless actions, instead pressing his hand against the egg and closing his eyes to sense it deeply.

What he discovered left him stunned, his body trembling in disbelief.

The eggshell bore countless imprints, infused with the Great Dao, as if connected to the entire world. He glimpsed all things—every blade of grass, every tree.

“I can’t eat this egg.” He was profoundly moved. He had long pondered an alternative to igniting his divine flame with the Great Scarlet Heaven Fire or similar methods.

Though the flames of true immortals were powerful, aiding perfect evolution, they still formed a framework—a path trodden by ancients.

“Using the world as a crucible, the myriad Daos as fire—this would temper my body into divinity, perhaps making me stronger.”

Now, he saw a glimmer of hope. The egg seemed linked to the world’s laws, allowing him to faintly perceive something extraordinary.

“Exactly! As bone texts record, sacred objects form by being fed by heaven and earth, nourished by the Daos. This must be it!”

Shi Hao understood, trembling with excitement. This was a rare opportunity. By holding the egg, he could commune with the Daos, using it as his flame—surpassing all else.

“Wait, I should consult the old man. He knows more than I do.” Shi Hao couldn’t stay still—this concerned his future.

Yet, upon calming slightly, he hesitated. Qi Daolin was no saint—notorious, in fact. What if he killed Shi Hao and took the egg for himself?

“I trust him!” After deliberation, Shi Hao set off resolutely.

Though their time together had been short, and Qi Daolin’s reputation was foul, Shi Hao’s instincts told him the old man had his own code. He hadn’t seized Shi Hao’s Thunder Emperor Technique or Kun Peng’s method, despite knowing his identity.

—

Shi Hao returned to the dilapidated mountain gate and sought guidance.

“So, you raided a nest and got an egg?” Qi Daolin opened his eyes—and they immediately bulged.

“Elder, what kind of egg is this? If I ate it, what would happen?” Shi Hao couldn’t shake the thought. If consuming an immortal egg also granted enlightenment, he’d gladly indulge.

“You prodigal! You still want to eat it? I’ll beat you to death!” Qi Daolin sprang up, chasing Shi Hao with raised palms.

“Ow!” Shi Hao yelped, darting away. He hadn’t expected such a violent reaction—no explanations, just a thrashing.

“This is unjust! It’s not what you think!” Shi Hao wailed. His joke had backfired spectacularly.

Who’d have thought a single sentence would provoke the old man into chasing him down?

Finally, Shi Hao clarified the situation, nursing his bruises. “What did I even do to deserve this?!”

“You think this is an egg?” Qi Daolin gave him an odd look.

“Isn’t it?” Shi Hao was skeptical.

“All you think about is eating! Just because it’s egg-shaped doesn’t mean it’s an egg!” Qi Daolin corrected. This was no immortal egg—the shell was merely a byproduct of the world’s nourishment.

“Then what is it?” Shi Hao asked.

“Likely an immortal metal—perhaps Seven-Colored Immortal Gold, or Void Immortal Gold… Definitely not an egg!” Qi Daolin sighed. The kid’s luck was absurd. If the old Celestial learned the truth, he’d lose his mind.

“Immortal metal…” Shi Hao murmured, satisfied. Such treasures drove sects to madness—rare beyond measure.

“Though immortal metals drive men to obsession, making sect leaders shed blood… this isn’t its most valuable aspect,” Qi Daolin said.

“There’s more?” Shi Hao pressed.

“You’ve already sensed it. The shell intertwines with the world’s Daos—this is the rarest of fortunes!” Qi Daolin said gravely.

According to him, regardless of what lay inside, the greatest value lay not in the metal itself, but in the current “placenta”—the combined Primordial Chaos Qi and shell, which resonated with the world’s Daos, absorbing nourishment.

Since ancient times, how many had witnessed the birth of a sacred object?

During its gestation, the accompanying “placenta” held unimaginable power—communing and merging with the myriad Daos, its worth incalculable.

Neither the Primordial Chaos Qi nor the shell alone had this effect. Only during gestation, when these substances combined, did the miracle occur.

“Does this mean I don’t need a divine flame? Can I use this to plant my Dao and enter the Divine Flame Realm?” Shi Hao asked, restless, voicing his earlier thoughts.

“At best, it’s a slim possibility, a glimmer of hope,” Qi Daolin said solemnly. “Throughout history, countless geniuses have had this idea. Yet… all likely failed. None succeeded.”

Using other immortal seeds was one thing, but borrowing the world as a crucible and the Daos as fire to achieve divinity? Near impossible.

“Elder, what should I do?” Shi Hao asked.

“Use this placenta wisely, and you have a twenty percent chance of success. Fail, and even the immortal metal inside will be ruined—and you’ll turn to ash,” Qi Daolin warned gravely.

“Don’t be so grim. Say something auspicious,” Shi Hao grumbled.

“The best outcome? Forty percent chance of success, with the immortal metal unharmed—even becoming your weapon, forged by heaven and earth, imprinted with Dao traces and laws,” Qi Daolin said.

“Even the best odds are only forty percent?” Shi Hao was dumbfounded. Death outweighed survival. How could he proceed?