The black paper boat was small, no larger than a palm, delicate and exquisitely crafted, bearing none of the imposing aura of a ghost ship, let alone the colossal size of a mountain. Shi Hao’s heart trembled. The true form of the ghost ship that had drifted down from ancient times was just like this—was its origin here?
The river was formed from liquefied spiritual energy, crystal-clear and radiant, shimmering with misty light. Just approaching it gave one the sensation of ascending to immortality, their entire body suffused with unparalleled comfort. Shi Hao wondered—was that gate truly connected to the divine realm? Otherwise, how could such a phenomenon exist? Where else in the world could a river be formed from condensed spiritual essence? In the Great Wastelands, this was utterly inconceivable. A river like this would incite wars between ancient kingdoms, provoke struggles among the great sects of antiquity—it was far too precious.
As he drew near, a flicker of runes flashed in his palm, intercepting the drifting paper boat and bringing it into his grasp. Instantly, he sensed an overwhelming surge of vitality. At the same time, his soul shuddered, nearly causing him to collapse to the ground. It felt as though the sun, moon, and stars were falling, the vast heavens and earth on the verge of overturning.
“What is this…?” Shi Hao was horrified, taking a long moment to steady his mind. What kind of terrifying power was this? And all of it was caused by this black paper boat. Finally, his heart settled into clarity, and the disturbances ceased.
The black paper boat looked as if it had just been folded, pristine and new. A line of words shimmered upon it, vivid and dripping with color—a line written in blood: *Only I remain.*
With the whisper of the wind and the flow of the river, it was as though a woman’s sigh echoed from the distant past, carrying sorrow and melancholy… Shi Hao’s hair stood on end. The paper boat remained unchanged, still fresh, the blood not yet dried. Could that woman still be here, within that radiant gate?
No—though the blood had not dried, still crimson and glistening, he could distinctly sense the weight of time upon the boat. Focusing his mind, he could perceive it. People had discovered ghost ships in ancient times, but the true origin of this black paper boat was unfathomable. Aside from him, no one else knew its secret.
Shi Hao’s heart surged with unrest. Where did this black paper boat come from? Could it truly be from another world? How could it have drifted for countless ages, its bloody message still intact? Who was it meant for?
“The Kun Peng built its nest in the primordial era, adjacent to this gate…” Shi Hao fell silent, standing motionless for a long time.
Eventually, distant cries of battle snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked down at the black paper boat in his hand, his heart inexplicably stirred. It was as though he had glimpsed a woman seated high above the heavens, her sorrowful gaze turning back for but a moment—yet in that instant, eternity passed.
He shook his head forcefully, snapping back to reality.
“This blood is incredibly powerful, incredibly mysterious. Only this black paper boat could contain it,” Shi Hao murmured in awe. The crimson bloodstains on the boat concealed an immeasurable divine energy. If left undisturbed, it was harmless—but if provoked, it could darken the heavens and earth!
“So terrifying!” Shi Hao was stunned. No wonder, when he first held the boat in his palm, he had seen visions of stars falling and the world collapsing—was this the power hidden within the blood?
A mere trace of blood had transformed the paper boat into an invincible ghost ship. Now, though its divine essence had faded somewhat, a remnant of its former glory remained, its brilliance restrained.
Carefully, Shi Hao stored the boat away in his Qiankun pouch. He forced himself to push these thoughts aside—now was not the time for distraction. A single misstep here could mean death.
By the radiant gate, the crowd had grown, and a commotion erupted. Suddenly, a group attacked, runes filling the sky as battle broke out.
“By the heavens! There’s a piece of divine wood here!” someone exclaimed, drawing the attention of those near the Kun Peng’s nest. Many powerful figures rushed over.
Shi Hao’s eyes sharpened. Within the blazing gate lay a rotting log, soaked nearly to decay, yet still exuding a divine glow, shimmering as it floated. He realized—the black paper boat must have drifted out after being blocked by this log for untold years.
The log appeared to be a branch, as thick as a bucket, its surface etched with dragon-like patterns. Though rotted beyond recognition, it still pulsed with dense divine radiance, astonishing to behold. The brilliance of the gate and the spiritual river had obscured it until now.
“Look at those patterns! That glow! Could it resemble the legendary Kun Wood from myth?” someone gasped.
“And there’s a green leaf, crystal-clear and unspoiled, submerged in the water—it looks exactly like a Kun Wood leaf!”
The area erupted into chaos. The fighting intensified as beings of different races called for reinforcements. Blood sprayed, bodies fell in droves—the battle was brutal.
The island reef seethed with activity, the crowd rivaling that at the Kun Peng’s nest. All were driven mad by the mention of Kun Wood. Creatures packed the area, runes filling the air, drowning the scene.
Shi Hao was equally stunned. What kind of place was this? How could such divine wood exist?
“Could this be the birthplace of creation? Does this gate lead to the divine realm?”
“Kun Wood—are we certain? This is unbelievable! Could it truly be real?”
Amid the fighting, some creatures shouted to their kin, confirming their suspicions before charging recklessly into the river, desperate to seize the rotting log.
*Boom!*
Yet as they entered the water, attempting to pass through the gate against the current, their bodies exploded instantly, burning to ash and dissolving into radiant rain.
The sight was horrifying. Even massive sea beasts hundreds of feet long burst apart, reduced to bloody mist—utterly powerless. The gate seemed a forbidden realm, barring entry to mortals.
Shi Hao stood at a distance, his heart surging. He thought of the black paper boat, the Kun Peng’s nest, the radiant gate, the Kun Wood—all converging here. It was overwhelming.
Kun Wood, born of heaven and earth, was said to be the ladder by which gods ascended, the bridge connecting the realms of gods and men. Such a tree existed only in legend, reputed to pierce the heavens, unparalleled in majesty.
It was said to have been felled in the primordial era, vanishing from the world. Only the oldest divine mountains might still hold a leaf or two, the rest preserved solely in ancient texts.
At first, amid the fighting and exclamations, some had doubted, thinking it merely a similar ancient wood. But now, witnessing the gate’s forbidden power—as though the divine realm lay beyond—many were convinced.
This was likely genuine Kun Wood, containing the mysteries of creation. Possessing even a single leaf could enhance one’s cultivation, accelerating enlightenment—a treasure beyond compare.
Here lay not just a pristine Kun Wood leaf, but also a rotting log. No wonder even pure-blooded creatures were driven to madness.
“All of you, *scram!*”
A thunderous roar erupted, domineering and imperious, accompanied by a flood of golden light that sent many coughing blood, hurling them backward. A group caught in the golden tide was crushed instantly, fragile as porcelain, their lives snuffed out in an instant.
“The descendant of the Sea God!” The crowd trembled.
It wasn’t that the fallen were weak—it was that the Sea God’s descendant was too strong. Clad in golden battle armor, his azure hair flowing, his eyes like sapphires, he was as beautiful as a maiden.
This was a youth of absolute dominance. Raising his golden halberd, he declared, “Retreat, or die!”
Golden waves surged around him as though he stood amidst an ocean, his spirit blazing like a furnace, his aura overwhelming, his gaze contemptuous.
Naturally, some refused to yield. Among them were those who had surpassed the Transformation Realm, incensed by this young upstart’s arrogance.
The heavens trembled as though meteors were descending. A barrage of treasures rained down as the crowd struck.
*Boom!*
Yet the youth swept his golden halberd, unleashing a light that pierced the sky, a momentum fit for slaughtering armies.
*Thud! Thud! Thud!*
Amid the golden tide, before the halberd’s edge, bodies burst apart. Only the strongest were bisected at the waist, their remnants preserved—none survived.
Every treasure shattered, falling to the ground in ruins.
All who charged had perished—not a single survivor. Such dominance, such invincibility, shook every witness to the core. It was as though the young Sea God had been reborn!
“If you value your lives, *retreat!*” The Sea God’s descendant was peerless in his arrogance, his azure hair whipping in the wind, his halberd pointing accusingly. Though young, he carried an aura that could swallow mountains and rivers, a presence that declared *I alone am supreme.*
The surrounding crowd involuntarily stepped back. This youth was too formidable—at the pinnacle of the Transformation Realm, he stood as a young deity among mortals.
“Did you not hear? Retreat, unless you seek death!” A group clad in golden armor appeared, their expressions icy. One of them pointed at Shi Hao, who stood his ground, and barked, “You there! Move!”
“A mere servant dares to act so arrogantly?” The little rascal was incensed. The youth’s insolence was bad enough, but now his underlings dared the same?
“You should be grateful we haven’t killed you yet! Opposing the Sea God’s lineage? You seek death!” The golden-armored warriors glared, their eyes frigid. One leaped forward, his foot descending toward Shi Hao’s chest with ruthless efficiency.
These were battle-hardened sea warriors, seasoned in bloodshed, accustomed to acting without mercy. Their strike embodied their usual brutality—descending from above, their eyes filled with disdain, runes flaring in their palms.
The crowd paled. This was an exceptionally powerful sea creature—no wonder he and his master spoke with such cold authority.
Many realized they stood no chance against him. Even the Sea God’s descendant’s servants were this formidable?
Shi Hao’s gaze turned icy. Without a word, he raised his black broken sword and slashed upward. A dark light erupted, tearing through the sky.
The sea warrior screamed, unleashing all his treasures and runes in a desperate defense—but it was futile.
*Splat!*
Shi Hao cleaved him cleanly in two from below, blood raining down as the halves thudded to the ground.
“That broken sword is terrifying—and he’s only just entered the Transformation Realm,” someone observed.
The crowd’s eyelids twitched. Such a powerful sea warrior, slain just like that? Many felt a surge of vindication—these golden warriors had been far too overbearing.
Everyone had been seething, forced back by the Sea God’s descendant, then berated by his servants. The injustice had been unbearable.
“You dare kill my follower? Seeking death?!” The Sea God’s descendant turned, his golden halberd pointing at Shi Hao, his azure hair whipping wildly, his eyes shooting out beams of light.
“Who do you think you are? The Sea God himself? Even if the Sea God were alive, if he provoked me, I’d chop him down all the same!” The little rascal retorted fiercely.
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage