“Just this one?” The plump white-robed man looked down at the miners in the chamber below.
“Correct,” Dongbo Xueying nodded.
The plump white-robed man stroked his upturned beard and gazed downward. An invisible ripple descended, enveloping all the miners. The miners couldn’t see above them—they had been inexplicably transported here and were somewhat nervous. However, since they had already been living in unbearable suffering, things couldn’t get much worse, so they remained relatively composed.
Suddenly, all the miners felt an unseen force descend upon them. The seals on their divine seas and true divinity hearts were shattered, allowing divine power to flow freely within them once more. Their true divinity hearts could now clearly sense their surroundings and manipulate the energies of heaven and earth.
“Thank you, Senior, for saving our lives!”
“Thank you, Venerable One, for your mercy!”
Immediately, all the miners cried out in gratitude.
The plump white-robed man smiled faintly as he stroked his beard. In an instant, the miners in the chamber below were teleported away, leaving only the solitary Emperor Yunhai behind.
Emperor Yunhai was stunned. He looked around—just moments ago, he had been surrounded by a large group of companions, some from the Heavenly Sword Sect, others from various captured groups, all enslaved miners. Now, with the seals lifted, why were his companions suddenly gone?
The vast chamber was eerily empty, with only him remaining. A chill crept into Emperor Yunhai’s heart.
“Senior,” he called out respectfully.
No response.
“Venerable One?”
Still no response.
—
Above, by the railing, the plump white-robed man stood beside Dongbo Xueying.
“They’ve been sent away,” the man chuckled. “They’re all deities—they’ll be fine on their own.”
“You are most merciful, Senior,” Dongbo Xueying quickly said.
“Merciful?” The plump man grinned. “Very few call me that. I just woke up from a nap and was in a decent mood, so I decided to help those little fellows. However… your attack on that fortress woke me up prematurely, cutting my slumber short by hundreds of millions of years. Do you realize the gravity of your mistake?”
“This junior is ashamed,” Dongbo Xueying replied. “I did not know you were in deep slumber.”
He understood.
For beings with such long lifespans, some World Gods grew increasingly silent over time, while others descended into madness. Inevitably, their temperaments shifted, and losing their original hearts was common. Without sufficient cultivation, maintaining inner peace under the erosion of time was impossible. Once a true divinity heart collapsed, death followed.
Thus, World Gods often resorted to methods like sealing their memories, abandoning their power, and reincarnating—a desperate gamble, as rebirth without strength left them vulnerable to early death.
“Slumber” was a more conventional approach.
By sleeping for eons, they allowed their minds to regain clarity.
Clearly, this plump white-robed man had been in such a slumber, having set a predetermined time to awaken. The violent fluctuations from the fortress’s destruction had roused him far earlier than intended.
“You’ve got nerve,” the man remarked. “Knowing you’ve offended me, yet showing no fear? I reversed time earlier and saw you practicing World God-level secret arts. Are you the disciple of a mighty one?”
“If I had a mighty one backing me, I wouldn’t have needed to attack this outpost myself,” Dongbo Xueying admitted. “I’ve had some fortuitous encounters and learned World God-level techniques, but I lack guidance. I plan to join the Divine Court’s Myriad Flowers Banquet, hoping to be taken under a mighty one’s wing.”
The plump man nodded. “As I suspected. I can tell you’ve only cultivated for about two millennia.”
“Correct,” Dongbo Xueying confirmed.
Determining cultivation duration was usually difficult, but for those with profound insights—especially into time—it was as simple as gauging a mortal’s age by their appearance.
To this man, the “marks of time” on Dongbo Xueying were faint, indicating his youth—barely two thousand years old.
Having assessed this, along with witnessing Dongbo Xueying’s combat prowess, mastery of World God-level arts, multiple perfected second-grade divine hearts, and self-created techniques—even hybrid ones—the man saw great potential.
“If you make it to the Divine Court’s final battles and perform before the mighty ones, your mere two millennia of cultivation will almost guarantee you a place as a disciple,” the man said with a smile. “Master a first-grade divine heart within ten thousand years, and you might even become a personal disciple.”
“Legendary first-grade True Intent transcendents are beyond reach, but mastering a first-grade divine heart in ten millennia is still remarkable,” the man mused. “Your Penetrating Point, Void, and Star divine hearts are all at deity-level perfection, with self-created techniques. You’re poised to take that final step. Hah! Your future achievements may even rival mine.”
“You flatter me, Senior,” Dongbo Xueying said humbly.
The Void heart was expected—he had long mastered the World heart. But Penetrating Point and Star had indeed reached deity-level perfection, and his years of refining techniques bolstered his confidence for the Myriad Flowers Banquet. He hoped to spar with other elite deities, seeking enlightenment to grasp another first-grade divine heart and ascend to the second-tier World God realm.
“Enough with ‘Senior.’ Call me elder brother,” the man laughed. Reaching this level in two millennia made Dongbo Xueying’s future as a World God inevitable—perhaps even mastering a first-grade divine heart within ten thousand years. “Ah, I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Baisha. Your elder brother resides in Anhai Prefecture, ruling Baisha City. Visit me there sometime. And your name?”
“I am Dongbo,” Dongbo Xueying replied, inwardly enlightened.
Before entering the Divine Realm, the artifact spirit Hongshi had briefed him extensively.
Baisha, Lord of Baisha City—one of the top ten powerhouses in Anhai Prefecture under the Bloodblade Divine Court. Compared to him, the Blackbone Mountain Lord was a mere underling. Baisha’s story was legendary: once a nominal disciple of the Bloodblade Divine Emperor, he became a second-tier World God before daring to steal and consume a ‘World Sandheart Fruit’ meant as tribute to the Emperor.
Fleeing in terror, he broke through to the third-tier World God realm. Over thirty billion years had passed since then.
Though expelled from the Emperor’s lineage, Baisha thrived as a socialite, his strength placing him among the elite—second only to fourth-tier World Gods and mighty ones.
“Dongbo, you’ve heard of me?” Baisha noted Dongbo Xueying’s expression.
“Indeed,” Dongbo Xueying replied. “Lord Baisha’s fame spreads far and wide in Anhai Prefecture. Of course I know of you.”
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