He slept deeply and comfortably, yet the outside world continuously stirred his aura. Despite his profound drowsiness, he eventually awoke.
The gaunt old man leaned on his cane, standing atop the primordial sun star. Following the aura that had roused him, he gazed into the endless void. Soon, his eyes landed upon a white-robed youth in the Donglin Sacred Realm, casting an illusionary realm over a mountain range—none other than Dongbo Xueying, still pursuing the annihilated demonic race.
“Heh heh heh.” The old man chuckled, his emaciated frame shaking as his eyes crinkled with amusement. “Rare, rare indeed. To think the Vermilion Nightmare Inheritance was what woke me. Has he actually developed the tenth transformation of this legacy? Among the Four Extremities Inheritances I left behind, the Vermilion Nightmare was the one I was least proficient in.”
The Four Extremities Inheritances:
The Balong Inheritance, the Vermilion Nightmare Inheritance, the Nine Serpents Inheritance, and the Mountain Beast Inheritance.
Of these, only the Vermilion Nightmare focused on the soul. The others—Balong, Mountain Beast, and Nine Serpents—were primarily physical. In fact, the Vermilion Nightmare served as a sort of lubricant, allowing the four to merge seamlessly.
“Look at the illusion he’s weaving. Tsk tsk tsk, quite the flavor to it, even carrying a hint of a Cosmic God’s essence.” The more the old man observed, the more pleased he became. “I was a bit annoyed at being disturbed, but seeing such a promising youngster… hahaha!”
He laughed heartily, then glanced down at the colossal primordial sun beneath his feet. “Quite warm, slept well enough. But perhaps it’s time to stretch my legs and take a closer look at this little one.”
With a single step, the gaunt old man vanished.
And reappeared—
Right in the Donglin Sacred Realm, as if he had teleported without the slightest ripple in space.
To traverse such vast distances, even mighty Chaos Realm experts like the Sand Ancestor or the Hall Master of the Questioning Heaven Pavilion relied on their innate Ancient Cultivator talents, often manifesting as spatial corridors with noticeable disturbances. Dongbo Xueying’s long-range teleportation, linked through the apertures of his black mist sphere, was subtler.
Yet this old man left no trace whatsoever.
“Heh heh heh.” The old man continued watching Dongbo Xueying’s movements.
—
Dongbo Xueying stood amidst a vast desert, peering through his black mist sphere to inspect the surrounding regions. Finding nothing unusual, he locked onto a particular nation.
First, he teleported to its vicinity, then instantly appeared above it.
This was merely a nation ruled by a Unity Realm cultivator—its city spanned two hundred thousand miles, its inhabitants sparse. After all, only the strong could offer true security, attracting more followers. A Unity Realm’s domain was usually home to those too weak or hopeless to reside in greater cities.
*Hum.*
As Dongbo Xueying hovered above the city, his illusion descended upon the nation below. Every living being within fell into the dreamscape, each experiencing their own fabricated reality.
“No annihilated demons here.” He prepared to leave immediately.
“So hasty? Cultivators live long lives. Slow down, slow down.” A cheerful voice drifted up to him.
Dongbo Xueying’s expression shifted.
*What?!*
His illusions were no trifling matter. Even ordinary Cosmic Gods would be slightly affected—or at the very least, detected! While his illusionary scouting couldn’t match the precision of his rule-based domain, its range far surpassed the latter’s mere hundred thousand miles.
“Hmm?” He traced the voice to a small roadside tavern within the city. There, a skeletal old man sat, devouring food and drink with gusto.
The scene seemed ordinary—except that every other being in the city was trapped in his illusion. Only this old man remained unaffected.
*Whoosh.*
Dongbo Xueying descended gracefully, landing beside the tavern and bowing respectfully. “Dongbo Xueying greets you, Senior.”
“Sit, sit.” The old man continued eating, speaking between mouthfuls. “Been too long since I’ve eaten. My stomach’s growling.”
Dongbo Xueying took the seat opposite, studying the mysterious figure intently. His illusions had failed to detect this man—a sure sign that this was a being at the highest echelon of cultivation: the Cosmic God level. And not just any Cosmic God, but one of extraordinary prowess.
Yet, he knew every Cosmic God in existence.
A newly ascended one? Even then, they would have been a Chaos Realm expert before. But in all his intelligence, spanning even the Ancient Sacred Religion and the Mother Goddess Sect, he had never encountered any record resembling this gaunt elder.
*Slurp, slurp.* The old man ate voraciously, plates vanishing before him. Finally, he leaned back, patting his belly. “Ahhh, satisfying. But food needs drink to accompany it. The tavern’s fare is decent, but their wine? Lacking.” He grinned at Dongbo Xueying. “Got any good wine on you?”
“Of course.”
With a wave, three jugs appeared on the table.
As a seasoned traveler hunting the demonic scourge, Dongbo Xueying had sampled delicacies and spirits across the Chaos Void. These three represented his personal favorites—not the most expensive, but the finest in flavor.
*Tsk tsk.* The old man poured, sipping with relish, his dull eyes brightening. “Fine wine, fine wine! Didn’t expect a youngster like you to carry such treasures.”
Dongbo Xueying waited patiently as the elder drank.
Halfway through, the old man finally looked up, smiling. “Quite the temperance you have.” With a flick of his hand, a peculiar artifact flew from Dongbo Xueying’s storage—the stone mirror that had guided him in cultivating the Annihilation Blossom.
Dongbo Xueying’s face tightened.
“At your current level, this scale is useless to you now.” The old man chuckled, tossing the mirror into the void, where it vanished. “Let it find someone who needs it more.”
Indeed, the mirror had outlived its purpose—Dongbo Xueying had already surpassed its guidance by unlocking the tenth transformation of the Vermilion Nightmare.
“Did you leave this behind, Senior?” Dongbo Xueying asked urgently.
“Ha! Just a scale I shed.” The old man grinned. “Oh, and my name—‘Shi’.”
“Senior Shi.” Dongbo Xueying bowed again, gratitude swelling within him. He was a man who remembered kindness—this mirror had been pivotal in his path, enabling the creation of the Annihilation Blossom. Its role in his cultivation was undeniable.
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