The ancient stone path was silent, as it had been since time immemorial. Apart from the gathering of prodigies when they first arrived, the place was desolate, so quiet one could hear a pin drop.
Wispy strands of chaotic mist drifted hazily through the air. Three thousand ancient paths, weathered by time, stretched silently into the distance.
Shi Hao sat cross-legged, deep in thought. If he continued down this path, he would likely face mortal peril. Those who had walked this road in ancient times had met no good end.
Flecks of crimson radiance shimmered like red coral—this was a sacred herb, seized from the Netherworld Clan. He offered it to the distant Imperial Butterfly.
“You’re really biased, kid. That’s a sacred herb, and you just gave it away so generously. Yet when I ask for a few stones, you make it so difficult,” the Divine Striking Stone grumbled indignantly.
“Have you no shame saying that?” Shi Hao shot it a sidelong glance. “Whether it’s Fate Stone or Primordial Chaos Stone, any one of them would shake the Upper Realm if unearthed. And I gave them all to you.”
“Urp.” The Divine Striking Stone, utterly shameless, let out a belch on the spot and fell silent in embarrassment.
The Imperial Butterfly transformed into a golden streak of light, darting forward to embrace the radiant coral-like herb and began nibbling on it, nodding gratefully at Shi Hao.
“I once promised that if we entered the Immortal Ancient, I’d help you find all kinds of great medicines to aid your transformation,” Shi Hao said with a smile.
Back on Demon Island, the Imperial Butterfly had been a tremendous help, leading an army of insects in a sweeping assault. Its might and influence had left him stunned at the time.
Moreover, Shi Hao was curious to see just how extraordinary and powerful a legendary Imperial Butterfly could become after evolving.
According to vague records in bone scriptures, only one Imperial Butterfly had ever appeared in history, emerging from the deepest reaches of the uninhabited zones in the Upper Realm before descending below.
Its feats were few—merely a single, gentle flap of its wings had reduced three Heavenly Gods to dust, annihilating them in an instant. It was this act that had etched its name into history.
Of course, only the Lower Realm remembered it.
In the Upper Realm, its legends were scarce, and few had witnessed its ethereal dance or the divine might of its wings splitting the heavens.
“Drawing upon one hundred and eight types of dao flame hasn’t yet revealed anything particularly special,” Shi Hao murmured, touching his arm, where wounds and bloodstains marred his skin.
During his duel with Luo Dao, his opponent’s hair had suddenly surged, coiling around his forearm and inflicting damage. Though not fatal, it had left him injured.
Shi Hao reflected. So far, igniting himself with the dao flames of the stone path hadn’t truly manifested its heaven-defying potential. His current strength was entirely rooted in his own foundation, the accumulation of his past.
“Unless I ignite hundreds, or even thousands of flames—then perhaps I’ll witness a different phenomenon?”
But one hundred and eight had already wounded him, scorching his body. What terror would hundreds or thousands bring?
Shi Hao knew his journey had only just begun. The true trials of life and death still lay ahead.
Otherwise, why had so many peerless cultivators of ancient times either perished or been crippled after setting foot on this path?
“Let’s begin!”
Shi Hao calmed his mind and entered seclusion.
For the next several days, he remained motionless, as if petrified, without the slightest ripple of disturbance.
He was adjusting himself, fully healing his earlier injuries, preparing to charge forward at his peak—igniting the dao flames to achieve his metamorphosis.
A gentle breeze stirred, dispersing the hazy mist.
Five days later, the stone path was no longer silent. One by one, the paths emitted faint glows, transforming into glyphs that spread across the ground, coiling around the young man.
One path, two paths…
Soon, one hundred and eight paths were alight, flames surging to engulf him in a blazing inferno.
Upon closer inspection, one could see symbols within the fire, densely packed, their patterns interweaving and constructing themselves into roaring flames that wrapped around Shi Hao.
This was what he had experienced before. Now, retracing his steps, his body remained unharmed.
“Now, the true trial begins.” Shi Hao took a deep breath—only for the flames to surge into his mouth and nose, filling his abdomen as divine fire wreathed his body.
Clang!
Shi Hao began forging a cauldron, using the heavens and earth as materials, carving out the void to construct a “great vessel” to temper himself.
The void twisted and blurred as a cauldron slowly took shape, encasing him within. It began drawing upon the power of the world, transforming into an ancient, unadorned vessel.
Other stone paths glowed, glyphs spreading as flames gathered to incinerate the cauldron. A radiant light shot into the clouds, illuminating the sky.
The ancient land was no longer silent. Shi Hao’s trial of life and death had begun. The dao flames increased—one after another, they were both hope and chains of death, coiling around him.
“One hundred and nine, one hundred and ten…”
One by one, the flames increased. By the time they reached one hundred and fifty, Shi Hao felt unbearable heat, his entire body in agony as if about to be burned through.
This was indeed a trial of life and death. With just a few dozen added, his flesh was already injured. How could he possibly endure the rest?
Yet he felt no despair, no discouragement. Firm in his belief, he pressed forward step by step, his eyes gleaming with unwavering determination.
One hundred and seventy flames—the fire blazed to the heavens!
At this moment, all who witnessed it were moved. With just a few dozen more flames, the might had escalated dramatically.
From afar, the inferno raged, swallowing everything. Dao patterns intertwined like lightning, creating a scene so terrifying it sent shivers down the spine.
“Pfft!”
Black blood spilled from Shi Hao’s lips. The flames were too intense, warping the cauldron of heaven and earth, nearly burning through it.
Enduring the pain, he silently observed the glyphs and dao principles within the flames. He wasn’t seeking to replicate the paths of his predecessors—only to use them as fire, to burn away the false and reveal his true self.
At one hundred and eighty flames, holes began appearing in Shi Hao’s body, a horrifying sight. Dozens of new flames entered his flesh, illuminating him from within.
This was suffering, but also opportunity. The dao patterns seared his bones, dozens of principles entangling within him, producing a resonant chant that rumbled through his body.
Time passed. Shi Hao himself lost track of the days. By the time two hundred flames were ignited, his body had withered, his vitality nearly extinguished. Charred and blackened, worse than before, his body was riddled with gaping holes burned straight through.
He sat motionless, his flesh lifeless, yet his eyes blazed with a dazzling light, like twin golden lanterns illuminating the darkness.
He added no more flames, silently enduring, carefully comprehending as the two hundred fires flowed through him, burning his blood and bones.
Days later, he adapted to the burning. With nothing left to consume, his body was now wrapped in blackened skin over bone, the fiery patterns branded onto him like swimming dragons, spreading throughout his form.
Shi Hao felt a sense of transcendence. Though his body was on the verge of destruction, it was as if he had stepped outside himself, observing it all. At times, he forgot the pain, immersed only in the comprehension of the dao.
Much later, the two hundred flames extinguished, the cauldron collapsing as Shi Hao fell to the ground.
“Kid, have you gone mad?” The Divine Striking Stone rushed over. The Imperial Butterfly, still clutching the half-eaten sacred herb, landed beside him in a beam of light, its concern evident.
“It’s nothing.” Shi Hao stood.
Apart from his human shape, he was nearly unrecognizable—his blackened skin cracked, his eyes sunken, his body utterly desiccated.
Within him, two hundred points of light still burned fiercely.
“Just a minor injury. A couple of days of rest will heal it,” Shi Hao said, though this was no minor wound. His body was pierced through, the damage severe beyond measure.
With nearly a hundred more dao flames, the power wasn’t just doubled—it was far worse.
Had he not already attained divinity, his strength greatly advanced, he would have been reduced to ashes long ago.
“I have no time to waste. Everyone else is advancing, improving their cultivation. I must recover quickly.” Shi Hao took out a sacred herb.
This was no time for hesitation. Even if sacred herbs were rare treasures, they were now mere sustenance.
The Divine Striking Stone and the Imperial Butterfly stepped back, saying nothing more, only standing guard and watching closely.
A black sacred vine over half a meter long appeared in Shi Hao’s hand, its leaves shaped like dogs—the Hound-Leaf Vine. As the leaves rustled in the wind, dark light surged, and the sound of mastiffs barking echoed.
Shi Hao swallowed the leaves one by one. Black radiance erupted from his body—the concentrated essence of the medicine, swiftly coursing through his limbs to replenish his losses and heal his wounds.
Sacred herbs could revive the dead, regenerate flesh and bone, and nourish the soul.
Shi Hao’s condition rapidly improved. His vitality surged as his withered skin cracked, his body absorbing the essence of heaven and earth, gradually swelling back to fullness.
Yet the cost was immense. Over several days, he consumed half the sacred herb before his wounds finally closed and he began to recover.
For ordinary injuries, a single bite of a sacred herb would suffice. Yet he had eaten half!
“You’re slowly killing yourself,” the Divine Striking Stone said. This path was too dangerous—just the beginning, and it would only grow harder.
“The path of cultivation has always been thus. Every road has its perils. If it were easy, history’s most dazzling talents wouldn’t have perished or been crippled,” Shi Hao sighed.
Without delay, he resumed his seclusion, tempering himself once more.
This time, as time faded, he added another hundred glyph flames, scorching his flesh and soul until his body was gaunt, his injuries worse than before.
Three hundred flames burned through the clouds, shrouding the sky.
When he stopped, Shi Hao devoured the remaining half of the Hound-Leaf Vine and half a Golden Grass—equivalent to an entire sacred herb.
The situation was dire, demanding even more medicinal essence.
After four hundred flames, Shi Hao consumed the other half of the Golden Grass and an entire Desert Silver, yet still felt lacking. Finally, he stewed and devoured over a dozen flood dragons before his vitality was fully restored.
“This is terrifying. The injuries grow worse, the consumption more severe. You’ve exhausted all your sacred herbs,” the Divine Striking Stone said.
The Imperial Butterfly flew over, offering a fragment of a red herb—all that remained.
“No need. I still have a Void Heaven Divine Vine.” Shi Hao patted it gently, his smile warm.
Divine herbs were astonishing. The Void Heaven Divine Vine emitted light like a blazing white-gold sun, coiled within its radiance like a true dragon.
After five hundred flames, Shi Hao was in ruins. Yet after consuming a single snow-white leaf, his body crackled with energy, his blood and qi boiling back to life.
At six hundred flames, he ate another leaf and a segment of the vine, recovering once more.
With each increase in flames, he felt himself growing stronger—a wondrous sensation!
By nine hundred flames, as Shi Hao consumed the Void Heaven Divine Vine, he glimpsed scenes within its leaves and vines—imprints that left him petrified.
“What is this?” His heart trembled violently. The images were too shocking.
“Swear you won’t consume me entirely,” the Void Heaven Divine Vine communicated through a unique “ripple.”
Shi Hao nodded. “I’ve said before—I won’t let a divine root like you go extinct. I’ll only take parts of your leaves and vines to heal my dao wounds.”
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