After uttering those three words, Shi Hao spat out a golden “bird bone,” which landed on the stall.
The stall owner had just stood up, but upon seeing it, he immediately plopped back down onto the ground, thoroughly terrified. He could confirm it was the leg bone of a roasted Golden Luan, though now it looked no different from a chicken bone—hard to recognize without close inspection.
“My lord, this has nothing to do with me!” Cold sweat poured down his temples as he trembled uncontrollably. He was certain he had encountered a true troublemaker.
“Where are those people? Take me around,” Shi Hao said.
The stall owner hesitated. Any of those major factions could crush a mere Divine Flame cultivator like him effortlessly—utterly incomparable, worlds apart.
“My lord, spare me! If word gets out, there won’t be a place for me in all of Immortal Ancient. I’ll be dead for sure,” he pleaded, his face pale with fear.
He also told Shi Hao that even if they went now, they likely wouldn’t find the leaders. Normally, only ordinary powerhouses were stationed there. The true First-Gen cultivators didn’t stay in one place; they were out seeking opportunities and only returned periodically.
As for the ancient freaks? Forget about them. They had never shown themselves, leaving everything to their powerful followers, who scoured the land for rare treasures.
“What’s there to fear? Stick with me, and no one will dare touch you. Do you think those major factions were born revered? They fought their way to the top,” Shi Hao said.
“My lord… what are you implying?” the stall owner, Louis, asked nervously.
“Become part of a major faction, and who would dare kill you then? You’d be just like them,” Shi Hao replied with a faint smile.
Louis was stunned. He looked at Shi Hao, making sure he hadn’t misheard. A storm of thoughts surged within him—was this troublemaker planning to establish his own faction in Radiant City?
“Let’s go. Show me around and point out where those scoundrels live,” Shi Hao said, stepping forward.
Louis hurried after him, a mix of excitement and unease. He tried to dissuade him, “My lord, don’t act recklessly. The city’s rules can’t be broken, or you’ll face the combined wrath of all factions. If you provoke someone like the Dark Divine Son or an ancient freak, no one can withstand their retaliation.”
Shi Hao nodded. “I know. I’m just here to look around.”
Then he added, “They stole my Eight-Treasure Qilin. I’ll make sure they regret it!”
The value of such a treasure was immeasurable—rarer than the finest divine herbs, as it could amplify medicinal effects several times over.
Even the upper realm’s overlords would fight to the death for it. Imagine refining a divine herb alongside it—its worth would multiply exponentially.
“I’ve never tasted Eight-Treasure Chicken—left it back in Stone Village—but I won’t miss out on this Eight-Treasure Qilin,” Shi Hao muttered. He had long coveted the legendary Eight Treasures of the Primordial Era.
So far, he had only tasted the Eight-Treasure Dragon Carp, a delicacy raised in a lake within the imperial capital of the Stone Kingdom. There were only a few of them.
Back when he was the Human Emperor of the lower realm, Shi Hao had shamelessly stolen and eaten one. The memory of its flavor still intoxicated him.
“The Eight-Treasure Qilin ranks first among the Eight Treasures—exceedingly rare. No one can afford to eat it. Once caught, it’s treated like an ancestor, reserved for critical moments in alchemy,” Louis explained.
As they spoke, they ventured deeper into Radiant City. Upon entering a certain street, the light faded, replaced by darkness and an eerie chill. Few people walked this path.
“Is this the Dark Divine Palace?” Shi Hao asked, hands behind his back as he surveyed the massive estate occupying half the street. Black mist shrouded it, exuding a sinister, bone-chilling aura.
Despite the high sun, this place felt like the underworld.
At the entrance stood members of the Nether Clan, guarding the premises like corpses, devoid of vitality, their eyes gleaming ominously.
“I despise this clan the most. They reek of death, cold and inedible—utterly worthless,” Shi Hao remarked casually.
Louis nearly collapsed in fear. Speaking like this outside the Dark Divine Palace? If overheard, it was a death sentence.
The Dark Divine Son was terrifying. He had once ventured out and slaughtered his way through several minor realms, leaving rivers of blood and mountains of bones, shocking even deities.
That single battle cemented his supreme might. Afterward, he retreated into seclusion and hadn’t been seen since.
“Even without mentioning the Dark Divine Son, his six Nether Generals—all First-Gen cultivators—are extraordinary. They nearly killed Luo Dao and Lan Yichen, forcing them to flee in a trail of blood.”
“Oh? I’ll slaughter them all when I get the chance,” Shi Hao said coldly.
He couldn’t tolerate anyone stealing his Eight-Treasure Qilin, driving Luo Dao and Lan Yichen to flee while bleeding. He demanded answers.
“Who are you? No loitering here.”
“If you have rare treasures, you may trade them.”
A voice, icy and ghostly, sent an uncomfortable chill through the air.
“I’m looking for two people. Do you know Lan Yichen and Luo Dao?” Shi Hao asked calmly.
Beside him, Louis shuddered. This man was no pushover—clearly here to stir trouble. Fear and anticipation warred within him. Was this truly a monster on par with the ancient freaks?
“Haha, you’ve asked the right person. I do know—they’re outside the city,” an old man said with a grin.
Several Nether Clan members turned their gazes toward them.
“Shall I take you there?” the old Nether man offered, his dark eyes swirling.
“Sure,” Shi Hao agreed.
The old man’s eyes flashed coldly. He studied Shi Hao, sensing trouble—someone this confident must be formidable.
“How about using the Dark Divine Palace’s teleportation array? It’ll be quick,” he suggested, testing the waters.
“No problem,” Shi Hao said.
Louis paled, tugging at Shi Hao’s sleeve, urging him not to go. It was surely a death trap.
“No worries,” Shi Hao dismissed.
“Only a true dragon dares cross the river,” the old Nether man mused, realizing Shi Hao’s confidence meant he was no ordinary foe.
He led Shi Hao inside. A teleportation array stood in the first courtyard, where a group of Nether Clan members stepped onto it.
“My lord, don’t! The other end is likely a trap—perhaps leading to the seclusion grounds of First-Gen cultivators!” Louis frantically warned via mental transmission, fearing for his life.
“Just a few Nether Generals? I’d prefer if it led straight to the Dark Divine Son’s seclusion—save me the trouble,” Shi Hao replied mentally.
“Young man, stand steady. If you fall here, you’ll never rise again,” the old Nether man said ominously.
“Lead the way,” Shi Hao said simply. He noted that even the Dark Divine Palace, powerful as it was, avoided breaking city rules—choosing to act outside instead.
The city’s agreements clearly held weight.
A flash of dark light, and the group vanished, reappearing in a vast valley.
“Bad news—this is the Nether Clan’s killing ground! Rumors said they were preparing it, but I didn’t expect it to be complete!” Louis cried out.
“Dare to provoke the Dark Divine Palace? None shall leave alive. Kill them all!” the old Nether man declared.
The Nether Clan members disappeared as endless black mist rose around them. A massive formation activated, its murderous aura overwhelming, stretching endlessly into the darkness.
“Where are Luo Dao and Lan Yichen?” Shi Hao asked in the dark.
“Fleeing like stray dogs. We’ll catch them soon. You’re their backer, aren’t you? Once we kill you and dump your corpse outside Radiant City, they’ll learn their place,” the old man sneered.
“Oh?” Shi Hao’s voice was icy—right behind him.
“You—!” The old man bolted, sprinting through the formation. But to his horror, the youth shadowed him effortlessly, nearly pressed against his back.
Shi Hao had locked onto him, turning the formation’s deadly paths into open roads. He didn’t even need the Divine Striking Stone to break the formation—his speed alone sufficed.
“Nether Generals, attack!” the old man shouted.
The so-called Nether Generals were First-Gen cultivators—not Nether Clan members but allies or defeated powerhouses under the Dark Divine Son.
*Thud!*
The old man screamed as a kick shattered his spine, splitting him in two.
Horrified, he realized the killing formation, capable of slaying First-Gen cultivators, had failed against this youth.
“Ah—!” His consciousness faded as Shi Hao crushed his skull underfoot.
The killing formation erupted with screams as a radiant figure moved like lightning, slaughtering all in his path.
“Why are the Nether Generals absent?!” the Nether Clan members despaired.
Soon, silence fell. Black mist churned as Shi Hao and Louis emerged, the latter dumbfounded.
“Disgusting. None of these corpses are edible,” Shi Hao grumbled.
Louis was speechless. This man was terrifyingly strong.
They returned to Radiant City, where Louis eagerly guided Shi Hao, pointing out landmarks.
“This is the Dragon Palace, the estate of the ancient freak, the Dragon Maiden. She’s never appeared, leaving her followers to handle affairs and gather treasures.”
Shi Hao nodded. The azure-blue palace emitted a soft glow.
“It’s unclear if the Dragon Palace was involved in hunting those two.”
“Then let’s try another place,” Shi Hao said.
Along the way, Shi Hao learned about the city’s factions—Sword Valley, Dragon Palace, Divine Temple—all backed by ancient freaks.
“That place looks imposing. Which faction is it?” Shi Hao asked.
Ahead stood grand palaces, their central hall forged from bronze, majestic and imposing.
“The Immortal Palace,” Louis answered.
“So they plan to root themselves in Immortal Ancient, preparing for centuries of cultivation,” Shi Hao mused.
“Not entirely. Radiant City has existed since ancient times. These structures were left behind by past generations,” Louis explained.
“Then let’s visit the Immortal Palace,” Shi Hao decided.
—
**Outside the Forbidden Region’s Edge**
A year and a half had passed. Many had left, but more had arrived, their numbers growing.
People eagerly awaited the ancient freaks’ emergence, curious about their newfound strength and paths.
Lately, it had been dull. Sect masters inscribed names on the immortal petals, but many remained obscured by mist—protected by the Dao from prying eyes.
“Has Huang emerged? It’s been months since we last inscribed his name. Let’s try again,” someone suggested.
—
**Before the Immortal Palace, Radiant City**
“Are you here to provoke us by asking about those two?” A young man stepped forward, hands behind his back, golden eyes gleaming.
Shi Hao instantly recognized his true form—a Golden Crane. It reminded him of the battle against the Seven Gods in the lower realm, where an old servant from the Immortal Palace, also a Golden Crane, had cursed him.
To defeat the foe, Shi Hao had shattered his own Supreme Bone, sacrificing himself. He had been buried in a yellow-earth grave.
“I’m their elder brother. I heard the Immortal Palace forced them to hand over the Eight-Treasure Qilin. I’m here to ask why. How is that provocation? You’re the ones hunting my friends,” Shi Hao said.
“Do you think being a First-Gen cultivator grants you the right to defy the Immortal Palace’s authority?” the young man sneered, summoning a group of powerhouses.
At his signal, someone prepared a Void-Shattering Talisman to forcibly teleport Shi Hao outside the city for execution.
This blatantly violated city rules, but the Immortal Palace was arrogant enough to silence all witnesses.
“You… want to die?” Shi Hao asked calmly.
“Who do you think you are? Our lord is about to emerge, fused with immortal blood, transcending the ordinary Dao. Killing you would be like slaughtering a chicken. Provoking us now is suicide!” the young man spat, chin raised.
*Slap!*
Without another word, Shi Hao grabbed him and delivered a resounding slap.
The onlookers gasped. His speed was unimaginable—no one could react!
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