The starlight blazed brilliantly, the celestial canopy shimmered, and the Northern Dipper Emperor’s Chariot, seemingly sensing the residual aura at the bottom of the Celestial Prison after Meng Qi and Liu Luo’s return, soared into the sky once more. Dragging a long trail of flames, it vanished into the depths of the void, its final destination unknown—whether it would settle somewhere or drift eternally in the darkness.
At this moment, Meng Qi, standing beneath the pure white celestial canopy, frowned slightly and turned to look back at the Black Prison Celestial Jail, as if searching for something.
“Something amiss?” Liu Luo, an ancient deity with vast experience in warfare, sensed it keenly and inquired silently.
Meng Qi pondered briefly before shaking his head. “Just an indescribable sense of familiarity. Probably just my over-cautiousness making me see enemies everywhere…”
The surroundings were dark and silent, devoid of anything but time and space, with no signs of danger. After remaining vigilant for a while, Liu Luo only relaxed when the Northern Dipper Emperor’s Chariot had carried them so far that the Celestial Jail was no longer visible, convinced that Meng Qi was indeed just being overly sensitive.
As the glow of the ancient constellations and the aura of the Heavenly Emperor’s remnants faded completely, the void where the Northern Dipper Chariot had paused suddenly rippled. A shadow emerged, coalescing into a human figure.
Clad in the robes of an ancient immortal, wearing a towering crown, his aura stretched across millennia—this was none other than Zhen Yuanzi, the foremost of the Twelve Divine Envoys under the Eternal Mother, the “Equal of the World”!
Just moments ago, he had nearly acted, intending to capture Meng Qi and Liu Luo with his “Cosmos in the Sleeve” technique. Yet, a subtle intuition had ultimately stayed his hand.
If he failed to capture both and one escaped, exposing his presence at the Celestial Jail, it would complicate matters far more gravely.
Zhen Yuanzi’s original purpose here had nothing to do with the arrangements within the Celestial Jail. However, after witnessing the grand spectacle of the “Heavenly Emperor’s Procession,” he had secretly followed and observed the entire event, stumbling upon an unexpected boon.
The inexplicable sense of being watched in the darkness that Meng Qi and Liu Luo had felt came partly from Ghost Emperor Cheng Tang and the deity Xingtian, and partly from Zhen Yuanzi himself. Yet, with multiple sources blending and someone else to take the blame, discerning the truth was nearly impossible!
With a single step, Zhen Yuanzi, his sleeves billowing with the grace of an ancient immortal, re-entered the Celestial Jail. Passing through layers of steps and penetrating the abyssal pit, he arrived at the place where the illusory millstone had once ground the Authority of the Great Dao into nothingness.
Gazing at the desolate land where sinister winds howled amidst the black mist, Zhen Yuanzi inhaled softly and sighed inwardly, “Just as I thought.”
At the dawn of the epoch, when heaven and earth first parted, the clear qi rose to form the Celestial Realm, while the turbid qi descended to create the Nine Nethers. Though seemingly distinct and mutually repelling, they shared a common origin—how could there not be subtle connections? Like the birth of yang within yin and yin within yang, they intertwined, returning to the Primordial Unity.
The depths of the Celestial Jail were where “the purest gave rise to the turbid,” directly linked to the Nine Nethers. It was precisely for this reason that the Heavenly Emperor had placed his secret cycle of reincarnation and the Ghost Emperor’s avatar here. Once the cycle formed and the Ghost Emperor’s spirit was nurtured, it could “reincarnate” unnoticed into Luo Feng or the Black Prison, biding its time to replace the Dark Ghost Emperor, then unify the cycle and become the true master of the Underworld, seizing a pivotal advantage in the apocalypse.
The Authority and the essence of reincarnation absorbed by Su Meng were coveted by many, and the Heavenly Emperor’s avatar he took away was cause for caution—yet neither was the most crucial thing in this realm!
Zhen Yuanzi slowly descended as crimson jade talismans and divine scripts manifested around him, intertwining and condensing until they formed vague Dao patterns, with three at the core nearly complete and clear.
As soon as these patterns appeared, the millstone vortex destroyed by Meng Qi re-emerged, slowly rotating, grinding all things into nothingness and generating a subtle sense of reincarnation.
Through mere observation, Zhen Yuanzi had replicated over half of the Heavenly Emperor’s arrangements!
His figure sank deeper, first appearing as a black dot, then gradually exuding ghostly and deathly auras within the cycle, as if reincarnated into a Ghost Emperor. A faint, almost inaudible sigh echoed:
“Equal of the World… yet in the end, all is emptiness…”
The black dot accelerated its descent, seemingly piercing through a subtle barrier and quietly entering Luo Feng’s Black Prison.
The recreated illusory millstone gradually faded away.
After a while, a point of light appeared, bursting forth with boundless radiance that illuminated the entire realm—it was the arrival of the Ancient Buddha Dipamkara, his head adorned with twenty-four perfect halos of Buddha-light.
“Su Meng and the Mystic Fairy have already left,” Dipamkara said impassively.
Within one of the halos, Ananda sat cross-legged, smiling leisurely. “As long as they continue to follow the Northern Dipper Chariot’s guidance, I can predict their next destination and intercept them there.”
The Ancient Buddha Dipamkara nodded slightly, glancing at the shadowy land veiled in black mist. “The Heavenly Emperor was indeed a ruler who dominated his era, laying the groundwork for his own underworld so early.”
Ananda chuckled. “The apocalypse’s end is like the extinguishing of a lamp. Aligning with the path of the afterlife and final rest, establishing and controlling a complete underworld holds immeasurable benefits—not just for the embryonic Dao Fruit but also as a key to the calamity. With the Heavenly Emperor’s foresight and wisdom, how could he not have noticed? Your Buddhist eighteen hells, six paths of reincarnation, Pure Lands, earthly Buddha-realms, the Luo Sect’s Vacuum Hometown, the ancient underworlds of demons and gods, and the Daoist Emperor’s shadow realms—are these not all attempts of the same nature?”
The ancient underworld of the Ten Yama Kings and the Yellow Springs’ cycle, jointly established by Daoists, Buddhists, demons, and the Celestial Court’s deities, had collapsed long ago during the fall of the Celestial Court due to mutual sabotage.
After exchanging a few more words, the Ancient Buddha Dipamkara transformed into a rainbow and shot out of the Celestial Jail, heading straight into the void’s depths as guided by Ananda.
…
“Prince Wang, what do you mean? Do you intend to release *It* and bring calamity upon the world?” The Snow Mountain Sect’s leader was aghast, barely containing his shock, his expression darkening as he asked gravely.
Wang Siyuan’s whereabouts had become a mystery since his Dharmakaya manifestation, and his current strength was unfathomable. The Snow Mountain Sect had lacked a Dharmakaya for generations—no matter how profound their heritage or the relics left by their immortal ancestors, they were likely no match for him now!
Wang Siyuan pressed a fist to his lips, avoiding a direct answer. Instead, he remarked casually, “Your sect has long misunderstood one thing. The being suppressed within the Ancient Immortal’s tomb has never ceased to be known in the outside world, with many still chanting its name—yet it has never broken free.”
“How is that possible?” The sect leader blurted out in disbelief.
But the nine immortals had all warned of this.
“It can only break free if those who chant its name also know it is suppressed here,” Wang Siyuan explained with a faint smile. “Moreover, its nature is unique—neither this nor that. There is likely only one person in this world who can correctly describe its name, not the one you assume.”
His eyes burned with a mad flame, as if eager to lift some seal and unleash a certain name.
The sect leader was both furious and alarmed. “Are you insane? What do you truly seek?”
Wang Siyuan smiled slightly. “If you won’t release it, then let me enter and lend me those nine tokens.”
“Aren’t you afraid of death?” The sect leader had not expected such a reply.
Wang Siyuan coughed a few times before laughing heartily.
“The mad do not fear death.”
…
The Northern Dipper Emperor’s Chariot cut through the void, its journey seemingly endless. Meng Qi began to sense a peculiar fragmentation around him, with fleeting mirage-like scenes appearing intermittently.
Golden-armored celestial generals, majestic divine halls, burning ruins, fragmented glimmers of light—all of which made Liu Luo frown slightly, as if she had returned to the ancient Celestial Court.
Suddenly, ripples of light emerged, and a vast, silent river materialized around the chariot—boundless in width, endless in length, carrying the passage of time itself.
“The River of Time… but where are its tributaries of the future?” Meng Qi murmured in surprise.
Then, the river’s downstream rippled as a figure approached astride a Kui Ox, a sword at his waist and a radiant halo behind his head, encapsulating myriad truths and infinite possibilities—past, present, and future all within, perfect and complete.
Shrouded in auspicious light, the figure was indistinct, yet his serene chant echoed clearly:
“To cleave earth and sky, the Dao is bright;
In Jasper Tower, scriptures take flight.
Five qi converge, the mystic art;
Three blossoms crown, the birthless start.”
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