The Carvings of the Doomed

Empyrean God Xiuke hurriedly said, “I feel deeply ashamed. I took you for the Snow Fiend, Junior Apprentice-Brother, and struck without a second thought. Thank the Dao it was your strength that prevented me from harming you. If I had killed you… the regret would have been eternal. Ah… I never imagined that I, Xiuke, would sink to the point of launching a killing stroke without distinguishing right from wrong.” A trace of sorrow flickered in his eyes.

“It is nothing to blame yourself over, Senior Apprentice-Brother,” Ji Ning said with a smile.

“No, the fault is mine. But enough of this.” Xiuke frowned as he looked at Ji Ning. “Junior Apprentice-Brother Northmoorn, you must know how dangerous the Moon Underwater Abyss is. Since ancient times, of all the Empyrean Gods who have entered, only Lord Buddha Jueming has ever truly left. How could you be so foolish as to come in again? Back then, I entered because I saw Jueming break through to Buddhahood, and because I found my days unbearably dull, seeking an opportunity here. But it has been over a hundred million years since Jueming Buddha attained his station. At first, a few Empyrean Gods still came… but now, none have come for an age. Why would you…?”

“I am indeed the first to enter in a million years. As for the reason… it is a long story.” Ji Ning sighed. “I was driven by dire circumstances. I had to come to the Moon Underwater Abyss to retrieve a treasure.”

Empyrean God Xiuke nodded, then asked eagerly, “By the way, how fare the Three Realms now? You said my master took on another disciple?”

“The Three Realms…” Ji Ning hesitated a moment.

“Cataclysm has arrived!” Ji Ning’s voice was heavy as he finally said it.

“Cataclysm?” Empyrean God Xiuke was shocked.

“It may be even crueler than the Dawn War,” Ji Ning nodded.

“Impossible! The Dawn War cost so many lives…” Xiuke was stunned.

“Back then, it was Lady Nuwa who broke through to the Pangu-level and turned the tide. But this time… let me explain in detail.” Ji Ning kept nothing back from this disciple of Daoist Carefree. If Xiuke ever got out alive, he would be an ally. Ji Ning laid out the full scope of the coming cataclysm.

The telling took a full half-hour.

Empyrean God Xiuke stood there woodenly, muttering, “So that is how it is. The Seamless Gate had been integrated into our Three Realms for so long, everything was peaceful… how did it suddenly…? This time, without Lady Nuwa to suppress them, with the Lord of All Demons wielding such means, there is no one in our Nuwa camp who can restrain him. And our side cannot restrain the Seamless Gate either. In a true war, both would be crippled. How many of us would be left alive?”

When he had been in the Three Realms, all had been peace and tranquility.

Now, cataclysm had come.

“It is die or be killed,” Ji Ning said flatly. “There is no choice. I am weak, yet even I can faintly sense from the depths of fate itself that one of our two sides must be utterly annihilated.”

“You can sense this?” Xiuke was astonished.

“Yes,” Ji Ning nodded.

“A manifestation of destiny… why? Why such a cataclysm?” Xiuke could not understand.

The cataclysm did not descend without cause.

Just like the Dawn War, it came because two Chaosworlds had been drawing inexorably closer, on the verge of collision and perhaps even merger. The Lord of the Heartlord had wanted to rule the cosmos, but met resistance from the Pangu Chaosworld, and so war erupted. And behind it all, the Lord of All Creation had been secretly guiding events.

The indistinct will of destiny only showed one result: one of the two sides must perish. One side must die for the other to live.

As for the root of this cataclysm?

It remained a matter of conjecture.

The Nuwa camp speculated… perhaps it was the “King” of the Seamless Gate. That King had once been infinitely close to the Pangu-level state. Having merged with the Heavenly Dao, he was gradually awakening. At least part of his consciousness was now active. Through his partial control of the Dao, he was feeding the Seamless Gate vast amounts of intelligence, spurring them into conflict with the Nuwa camp.

This led the Daoist and Buddhist leaders of the Nuwa camp, along with the Three Sovereigns, to wonder: was the Lord of the Heartlord truly able to break free from the bonds of the Heavenly Dao, stirring up this cataclysm?

Or was there a shadow of the Chaos Alien races behind it?

Or some other, even more inscrutable cause?

The cause was unknowable.

The Lord of the Heartlord, who was one with the Heavenly Dao, was the most likely to know. And the orders the Lord of the Heartlord had given were for the Seamless Gate to strike at the Nuwa camp!

…

“How the cataclysm was born is beyond my level to know,” Ji Ning said. “In short, the Seamless Gate has already infiltrated the Three Realms and moved against us. Naturally, we cannot just sit and wait for death. We must fight back.”

“Yes.” Empyrean God Xiuke nodded, a killing intent flashing through his eyes. “That Seamless Gate. Back when Lady Nuwa left the Three Realms, the Lord of All Demons snuck back. We simply did not want to see living beings slaughtered, so we allowed the Seamless Gate to integrate into our Three Realms. I never imagined… after all these years, a dog cannot change its habit of eating filth.”

Knowing this was a war of survival, Xiuke naturally stood with the Nuwa camp.

“But we are trapped in the Moon Underwater Abyss. No matter how much we say, it is useless,” Xiuke shook his head.

Xiuke turned and walked back along the corridor, saying, “Junior Apprentice-Brother Northmoorn, follow me.”

The two walked down the corridor for a time.

They reached the rear hall of the palace. It was utterly silent; the light reflecting off the accumulated snow made every corner of the hall clearly visible.

“I have lived here all these years,” Empyrean God Xiuke said, stepping into the rear hall.

Ji Ning followed, his gaze sweeping the room. The hall was sparsely furnished, but soon his attention was caught by the walls.

“This is…?”

Ji Ning walked over in surprise, staring at the murals and characters carved into the rock. The murals depicted close-combat techniques, and the characters were descriptions—all written in the script of the Three Realms.

“These are carvings left by Empyrean Gods who were trapped here throughout the ages. Out of utter boredom, or in utter despair, they left these marks,” Xiuke said, sitting down on the ground and leaning against a pillar. “Junior Apprentice-Brother Northmoorn, do you have any wine?”

“I do.” Ji Ning produced a gourd of wine with a flick of his hand and tossed it over.

“Good.”

Xiuke’s eyes lit up. He caught the gourd, pulled out the stopper, and drank deeply, gulping it down. After drinking his fill, he let out a long, satisfied breath and laughed. “Marvelous! Truly marvelous! I haven’t had a drink in so long. Stuck in this place, without another soul in sight, constantly on guard against the Snow Fiend’s ambush… this life is worse than death.”

“Junior Apprentice-Brother Northmoorn, there’s nothing worth looking at,” Xiuke called out when he saw Ji Ning staring at the wall carvings. “They were just left by us Empyrean Gods. Their profundity is nothing compared to the techniques passed down by True Gods and Daofathers. Every Empyrean God who knew he was about to die left these arts here, just to let later visitors know they once existed in this place. That is all.”

“You really won’t listen,” Xiuke said, seeing Ji Ning still absorbed in the carvings. He gave up and went back to drinking.

Being able to drink was already a great happiness.

Ji Ning silently gazed at the carvings covering the walls.

“Left by Snowleaf, disciple of the Lord Buddha Maitreya.”

“Left by the Swordbearer, disciple of Master Stonerule.”

“Left by the Wind Earl, disciple of the War God Xingtian.”

…

One Empyrean God after another—some well-known, some who had lived in obscurity. They had come to the Moon Underwater Abyss world, fought their way past the Yaksha, but could advance no further. Knowing their chances of survival were slim, they had carved words into the walls of this hall, telling those who came after that they had been here.

These techniques were naturally not exceptional, and certainly of no use to Ji Ning.

At the Empyrean God level, cultivators generally created their own techniques. Ji Ning, for example, had created his Brightmoon Sword-Art. It was extremely powerful in his hands, but if he carved it on the wall here, other Empyrean Gods would pay it no heed. The Brightmoon Sword-Art was tailored to Ji Ning; it was of little use to anyone else.

Even techniques created by True Gods and Daofathers were of limited use to them, unless they were utterly heaven-defying arts like the Five Treasures Sword Art.

The reason Ji Ning was looking at the carvings was that he could feel, in every horizontal and vertical stroke, in every character, a profound emotional weight. They were left by powerful Empyrean Gods on the verge of death. The weight of their faith and despair made Ji Ning’s soul tremble. He could feel it: these Empyrean Gods had not wanted to die. They had wanted to live.

But they lacked the strength to do so.

“I refuse to leave a carving,” Empyrean God Xiuke said. He had come up beside Ji Ning, wine gourd in hand, his voice flat. “If I die, I die. I have long grown tired of this life.”