Giant stars fell like raindrops, crashing down in a relentless torrent. One after another, colossal celestial bodies hurtled from beyond the heavens, their descent igniting towering flames as they scraped against the void, unleashing boundless destructive power. The sacred had become as worthless as straw—even the revered ones were now bound, shackled by chains of divine order.
The onlookers trembled with terror. This was indeed the Great Calamity—was this entire domain to be annihilated? There was no escape, neither in the sky nor on the earth. Only death awaited. Shi Hao’s heart was shrouded in gloom. How could they survive this? As the stars drew near, even the mighty ones were falling, their bodies turning cold. There seemed to be no way out.
“Whoosh!”
His gaze caught a young Golden Crow, blazing with divine light, tearing through clouds and mist as it soared toward the ninth heaven. Its speed was breathtaking—this was no mere revered one, but a young powerhouse of the Array Formation realm, its swiftness nearly matching Shi Hao’s own. In an instant, it had fled beyond the firmament.
So, there truly were hidden geniuses in this world, unknown to the masses. At the very least, this Golden Crow was extraordinary!
“Strange… it wasn’t captured?” Shi Hao’s expression shifted. He had already halted, unwilling to be ensnared by the chains of divine law. But now, surprise flickered across his face. Could this be the sliver of mercy left by the Great Dao, allowing some cultivators to escape the apocalypse and flee beyond the domain?
A spark of insight flashed in Shi Hao’s mind, as if he had grasped something elusive.
The sound of rending air filled the sky as more descendants of celestial beasts and divine birds surged upward, fleeing toward the outer realms like fleeting light, vanishing in the blink of an eye.
As Shi Hao observed the anomaly, his mind grew tranquil. He watched carefully and saw the divine bell tremble, its rippling waves sweeping over those fleeing figures.
“Shhht!”
The chains of order manifested once more, binding another revered one while allowing the younger powerhouses to escape. Only the peak cultivators of the Desolate Domain were being seized.
Shi Hao moved deliberately, neither too fast nor too slow. He ascended with the crowd, keeping to the middle, his eyes sharp as he silently absorbed everything.
The three divine artifacts had not vanished—they had merely blurred, still hanging in the heavens, emanating waves of inscrutable power that suppressed all existence.
“None of the revered ones who took flight escaped!” Shi Hao shuddered. The divine law descended like an inescapable net, chilling to the bone.
And this was just one corner of the heavens. If several revered ones had already been captured here, the same must be happening across the other great wildernesses and sacred mountains.
“Boom!”
Suddenly, a surge of crimson radiance erupted in the distance, bursting forth like a torrent of dawnlight, shattering the chains that sought to bind it as it surged toward the outer realms.
“Shhht!”
But the calamity was relentless. A crystalline divine blade descended, slicing through the dazzling radiance, severing its path of escape.
Amidst the metallic clangor, countless runes erupted into the sky. A colossal divine manifestation appeared, towering between heaven and earth, exuding an aura of sacred majesty.
“By the heavens—that’s a true deity!”
Even in the face of apocalypse, countless beings gasped in awe. This was beyond terrifying. In this great calamity, even deities could not escape?
The crimson radiance swirled like a flood dragon rearing its head, transforming into dense symbols that clashed against the divine blade, resisting the will of heaven and earth.
A furious roar shook the skies, accompanied by the thunderous chant of scriptures. The divine manifestation grew even more immense, its wrathful visage striking fear into the hearts of all who beheld it. Some vaguely recognized it—this was the sacred idol enshrined in an ancient temple of the southern lands.
“Pfft!”
A flash of blood. The massive head was severed by the divine blade, and the deity’s manifestation collapsed like a toppling mountain. Blood dyed the heavens as the runes dispersed.
What kind of scene was this? Shi Hao was utterly shaken.
All living beings trembled. Many fell to their knees, consumed by despair. If even deities could not protect themselves in this calamity, what hope did mortals have?
“A false god, merely kindling the first sparks of divinity, dares claim godhood?”
A voice, cold and indifferent, seemed to echo from the highest heavens, shaking the mountains and rivers.
Regardless, all cultivators were gripped by terror. The prophecy had come true—the sacred had become as worthless as straw. Even beings of such stature were doomed to fall.
Shi Hao stood in tense silence. What kind of calamity was this?
He watched as beams of light shot upward across the land. Every capable cultivator mounted their treasures, fleeing toward the outer realms in a desperate bid for survival.
Though the events seemed prolonged, in truth, only an instant had passed.
The surroundings were a chaotic sea of fleeing figures, cries of terror filling the air. The mighty were no exception—all were gripped by fear as the stars bore down, their descent shaking the world, the fall of the sacred chilling the soul.
Amidst the wails of cultivators, a pervasive dread spread. In the face of apocalypse, the true nature of all beings was laid bare—madness consumed the strong.
Shi Hao moved with the crowd, fleeing toward the outer realms. Witnessing the despair around him, his fear turned to numbness, then silence, until finally—he sensed something amiss.
The three divine artifacts still loomed in the sky.
Beyond the heavens, the stars’ oppressive might grew ever more terrifying, their flames searing the void, yet they never truly descended.
“Hmm?”
A glint of realization flashed in Shi Hao’s eyes. Having abandoned hope, his mind had cleared, allowing him to perceive this anomaly.
Though little time had passed, some stars should have already crashed down—yet the world remained unbroken.
Ignoring the chaos, he continued ascending with the throng of cultivators. Eventually, they encountered several descending stars, their might unmatched.
Shi Hao trembled. These celestial bodies were too vast—there was no dodging them. Even at the edge of the heavens, escape seemed impossible.
“Wait—this isn’t right!”
At last, he understood. The massive star passed through them like an illusion, leaving them unharmed as it crashed into the earth below.
“Boom!”
A dazzling eruption of light consumed the land below, as if an entire region had been obliterated, unleashing waves of terrifying power that swept across the world.
Yet Shi Hao’s heart grew cold. He no longer trusted his eyes. A thought struck him—this was all an illusion. The apocalyptic descent of stars was not real.
One after another, the stars plunged downward, their flames setting the heavens ablaze like a deluge of infernal fire raining upon the mortal realm.
In that moment, Shi Hao saw revered ones rising from below, along with another colossal divine manifestation—a true deity, fleeing toward the outer realms.
Who could remain calm in the face of such calamity? The stars felt so real—none could discern the truth. Even the hidden supreme beings were forced into the open, only to be ensnared by the sweeping chains of order.
A chill ran through Shi Hao’s veins. What kind of will was this, to toy with the mighty as if they were mere puppets? This illusory apocalypse had driven the revered ones to flee skyward, only to be captured.
Such methods were bone-chilling.
How could one resist?
Time blurred. Eventually, the stars vanished, their terrifying presence dissipating like mist. The land below remained intact, unharmed.
Looking upward, Shi Hao saw the earliest escapees now trapped beneath the divine bell descended from the upper realm. With a single chime, their bodies turned translucent, their secrets laid bare.
“They’re being inspected?”
A cold sweat trickled down Shi Hao’s back. These were not revered ones but the most exceptional of the younger generation, now scrutinized by the bell, their every secret exposed.
He sighed in relief. Had he not sensed something amiss and followed the crowd, he too would have been laid bare.
There was no escape—everything was under control.
“It was all an illusion! The disaster never happened—this wasn’t the apocalypse!”
“The revered ones were captured, but this wasn’t aimed at us. The world remains whole!”
Cheers erupted across the land. Every cultivator was drenched in cold sweat, overjoyed to have survived such a harrowing ordeal.
The falling stars had been mere illusions, conjured by some supreme law. Now that the mist had cleared, the world rejoiced.
Only a few remained silent, their hearts colder than ice. What could be more terrifying than this? A will so vast it had deceived the entire Desolate Domain—this was deception on a cosmic scale.
The masses descended back to the earth. Shi Hao, still silent, landed atop a mountain peak. While others celebrated their survival, he felt only an unshakable chill.
Those who had fled beyond the heavens now returned, though scattered across the land, separated by hundreds of miles.
“The calamity is over. We should be safe now.”
An elderly man appeared on Shi Hao’s peak, leaning on a verdant bamboo staff, his hair streaked with gray, his eyes deep and unfathomable.
Shi Hao tensed—this was a revered one, standing far too close for comfort.
Beside the elder stood a young woman, plain in appearance but serene, clad in snowy robes, her clear eyes tinged with unease as she supported the old man, her posture that of one who had narrowly escaped death.
Then—a sudden gust of sinister wind.
A streak of light shot down from the heavens—a black spear, not long but razor-sharp!
“What’s happening?”
The elder’s face paled. He turned to flee, summoning his immense power to teleport away.
But it was too late.
“Pfft!”
The black spear was too fast. It pierced clean through the elder’s body, carrying him away on a gale of violent wind.
“Ah—!”
The scream did not come from the elder, but from the young woman in white. Though she had merely been supporting him, the spear’s residual force was too much—the gust of wind brushed past her, and her body exploded into mist.
Shi Hao’s blood ran cold, then boiled with silent fury.
Everything was under control. None could escape this calamity.
The mournful howl of wind filled the world as streaks of light crisscrossed the skies, sweeping across mountains and rivers, observing all beneath them.
Shi Hao watched, his expression hardening. This was no illusion—the true calamity had begun. It was not over.
He raised his arm, where a splash of blood still clung—the remnants of the young woman’s shattered form.
“This calamity… it despises all life. It is merciless.”
Shi Hao’s voice was thick with hatred.
And then—faintly, carried on the wind—a cold, indifferent laughter echoed from above, devoid of emotion, as if the heavens themselves watched with detached amusement.
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