The True Dragon Horn, polished into a war trumpet, could shake the ages with its sound, igniting courage and battle fervor in all who heard it. Thus, the crowd was instantly invigorated, feeling as though their strength had multiplied!
“There’s nothing to fear! At worst, we die. Are the creatures from the other shore truly immortal? We’ll trade life for life, blood for blood, and fight them to the end!”
“Time and again, they trample our world as if we are weak, slaughtering without restraint. Do they truly think us no better than livestock? We’ll fight them to the death!”
…
Roars erupted from the crowd. Some clenched their fists, their hair whipping wildly, their eyes nearly splitting from fury.
“Elder, please speak plainly—what power did our world possess in the past that forced those terrifying beings from the other shore to retreat? You know their might is unmatched, with undying existences among them. Even the True Immortals of this realm fell in battle!”
Some voiced their doubts, urging the elder to reveal the secrets of the past.
In truth, this was what everyone wished to know. In that era, the other shore had triumphed, slaughtering all the mightiest of this world. Even the Ten Fierce—Heavenhorn Ant, True Dragon, Leviathan Roc—were either defeated or slain. The Peerless Immortal King and the Reincarnation Immortal King had perished beyond the borders, their bodies wrapped in shrouds.
How tragic it had been! The strongest of that age had all fallen, their blood staining the frontier.
Yet, in the end, the invaders from the other shore did not remain. After lingering for a time, they inexplicably withdrew, vanishing without a trace.
This mystery had confounded all, becoming an enigma through the ages.
The elder gazed at the crowd before soaring into the air, his sleeves billowing. “The heavens and earth are balanced. Every force has its counter, and those fiends from the other shore are no exception. They will be defeated in time. As for who shall strike them down—that will be revealed when the moment comes. Do not fear!”
“The creatures from the other shore shall meet utter defeat!” echoed an elder from the Sacred Academy.
The crowd erupted in fervor, their fear forgotten, their battle spirit soaring.
Shi Hao’s pupils contracted. Standing close to the elder, he knew him well—and noticed the slight tremor in his lips as he spoke. The words had been forced.
Seeing this, Shi Hao’s heart sank. The elder had spoken thus only to rally their spirits. The truth was likely far grimmer.
A heavy silence settled over Shi Hao, suffocating him with dread.
Recall the end of the Immortal Ancient Era—even as this world’s mightiest perished, no one had intervened to stop the invaders from the other shore.
If anyone had acted at all, it was only after this world had been cleansed of life, when they turned their attention to the other shore.
But by then, what meaning did it hold? The land was strewn with bones, its people nearly extinct. It was as if the world itself had been annihilated.
What cruel reality was this? Why had those with the power to intervene not acted sooner?
There must be secrets buried here, truths too bloody and horrifying to speak. Thus, the elder had withheld them, offering only half-truths to steel their resolve.
“The darkest age in history!” These words surfaced in Shi Hao’s mind—a prophecy, a revelation, perhaps the full truth laid bare.
The future might be far more terrifying than any could imagine, surpassing even the horrors of the Immortal Ancient Era. A landscape of bones, rivers running red—what desolate scene awaited them?
A calamity beyond all past ages, plunging all into despair—the most terrible upheaval was about to unfold!
Shi Hao pondered deeply. Those who could intervene in this war—were they allies or enemies? It was impossible to say.
If they were foes, then the situation would deteriorate beyond their worst nightmares.
Could this be the reason behind the prophesied “darkest age”? The implications were vast.
What manner of beings were these? Shi Hao had his suspicions. Three years prior, learning of one individual’s origins had shaken him to the core, offering both shock and insight.
“Woo…”
A piercing howl tore through the sky as an immense bone warship, vast beyond measure, approached the Heavenly Deity Academy.
“Who goes there?”
“The Patriarch of the White Bone Mountain Clan, leading all his elites, answering the call of the Ancestral Dragon Horn!” came the booming reply.
A supreme clan had arrived. The White Bone Mountain was a forbidden land, its entrance barred to outsiders. Bones littered its grounds, and legend held that its inhabitants were incarnations of skeletal deities.
“Whoosh!”
From beyond the heavens, a meteor streaked across the sky, trailing a blazing tail as it descended upon the academy.
This was no ordinary meteor—it was a warship forged from a star. As it halted, its rugged, gray stone surface gleamed with unyielding solidity.
“The Molan Clan brings all its elites!” Another mighty clan had come.
“Roar…” A gale roared as a colossal violet vessel breached the dimensional barriers, dwarfing even the stars as it hovered in the firmament.
“It’s… the Xu Clan of the Eternal Dynasty!” someone gasped. These were the kin of Princess Yaoyue. Along the ship’s edge stood row upon row of elders, thousands strong, their auras towering and immense.
“Even the ancestors have come?!” Princess Yaoyue exclaimed in shock.
One after another, vessels materialized in the sky as the Eternal Clans arrived in force. This was the pinnacle of martial might, a sight to awe all who beheld it.
With calamity looming, every clan had mobilized its full strength. If the Great Scarlet Heaven fell, which among them could hope to survive?
Soon, the heavens were thick with warships. Across the Nine Heavens, the mighty clans were legion. The sounding of the True Dragon Horn had shaken them all, compelling them to halt all endeavors and rally their forces here.
“Move out! To the Great Scarlet Heaven at once! There’s no time to delay. Those who arrive later must follow in support. We march now!” the elder commanded.
Time was of the essence. The Great Scarlet Heaven was in turmoil—none knew its current state. Perhaps… it had already fallen.
Yet regardless, they had to press forward. Whether to join the battle or reinforce the borders, speed was paramount.
“Elder, I wish to go as well!” Shi Hao stepped forward, eager to witness the conflict.
“Youngster, what place have you in such a battle? Stay behind!” snapped an elder from the Immortal Academy.
“What use is staying? Will it grant me time to grow? The darkest age is upon us—there’s no time left for cultivation,” Shi Hao retorted bitterly.
Fate had been unkind. This day had come too soon, denying him the chance to attain his full strength.
The other young prodigies shared his frustration. None had yet reached their peak when this catastrophe struck.
“All of you, return to your training! This war is not yet yours to fight. It may last years—decades! When we have fallen, or withered with age, then shall be your time!” bellowed an elder from the Sacred Academy.
The youths were torn between gratitude and helplessness, lamenting their ill-fated timing. They were hailed as geniuses, yet powerless to change the tide.
“We bear the name of geniuses, yet cannot raise a blade in battle. How pathetic!” one young prodigy sighed. The timing could not have been worse—they had not yet ascended to the world’s summit.
“Patience! Your time will come!” the elder interjected, addressing the youths. “Do you think we old relics have pinned all our hopes on you? Know this—through the ages, talents have been nurtured in reserve! Many peerless geniuses of past eras still live, still stand strong. Focus on your growth!”
The elder’s booming voice carried a startling revelation, meant to steady their hearts.
“Each generation births its own heroes, ruling for a hundred thousand years!”
Such was the cycle of the cultivation world. Many prodigies had risen—some fading into obscurity, others vanishing without a trace.
The elder’s words shook them all. The reserve of talents had never ceased. The young champions of yesteryear had matured—now was their hour.
This revelation struck like thunder.
“Leave the battle to us! Focus on your breakthroughs!”
From the decks of the great warships emerged figures—some middle-aged, others elderly, their years spanning vast ranges.
“Let us, the old guard, hold the line first. You must grow stronger—waste no thoughts on this!” they declared, their voices resounding.
The younger generation felt their eyes grow moist, then their blood surged with renewed fire.
These were the vanished geniuses of legend, now stepping forth to fight—a battle from which most would never return.
“We wish to witness it, even from afar!” pleaded Lan Xian, Princess Yaoyue, and other young maidens, their eyes glistening with unshed tears.
Women were ever the softer-hearted. They knew these elders, once young champions like themselves, would soon stain the battlefield with their blood.
“Very well. Let them see the face of the enemy, the brutality of war, and the sacrifices of their forebears. Let them remember—and avenge us in time!”
An elder from the Immortal Academy relented, but only on the condition that the youths be shielded by formations, ready to be whisked to safety at a moment’s notice.
“Set sail!” the elder roared.
Amid the blare of the True Dragon Horn, the armada surged forth!
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