The Gathering of Half-Ancestors

The Three-Yuan Ancient Lord had the face of an infant but hair white as snow, draped in a gossamer robe embroidered with the Eight Trigrams and leaning on a dragon-headed staff. She was as deep and unfathomable as an abyss. She studied the Yellow Clay Altar at length before withdrawing her gaze and speaking coldly to the old knight of the Sun Church:

'You have a profound cultivation, enough to count as a figure of note. But how could you be so reckless? Seeking death for yourself is one thing, but dragging my descendants into it—ten lives would not be enough compensation.'

All the cultivators nearby dared not even breathe loudly. This old woman had a savage reputation in their world; she was fiercely protective of her own and would not hesitate to bully the weak if provoked.

The old knight of the Sun Church bristled. His brows shot up and his golden hair streamed as his tiger eyes blazed. As a Holy Knight of the Sun Church, no matter his age, the defiant spirit of youth never died—it was a cornerstone of their power.

But he forced his fury down. As one of the few surviving strongmen from the ancient war, he could sense the old woman's terror clearly. To clash with her before the five hundred knights united would be nothing but a pointless death.

'Do not glare at me. If not for your Sun God… you would have died ten thousand times over,' the Three-Yuan Ancient Lord said.

'Where is your sister?' she asked Ye Tian.

'She… is missing.'

'Heh!' She snorted heavily. 'She was killed.' She pointed her dragon-headed staff at Xiao Chen. 'I have sensed the blood aura on his hands. You, as her brother, did not know until now.'

'What!' Ye Tian turned to Xiao Chen in fury. 'Xiao Chen, you dare kill my sister! I will never let this go.'

Xiao Chen did not wish to argue. Disputes were pointless; it was better to cultivate his mind in silence. Facing a host of enemies—this was the truest test of a cultivator's heart.

The Three-Yuan Ancient Lord struck Ye Tian with her staff, sending him flying. 'Dead is dead. What use is rage?'

'Yes,' Ye Tian replied, tense despite his reputation as a terror among the younger generation.

She was called the Three-Yuan Ancient Lord for a reason. She had cultivated three infant spirits—not like Deng Yu, who had shattered his original infant into five out of necessity. From the very beginning, she had aimed for the summit, blazing a perilous path of her own. She forged three golden cores, transformed them into three spirits, passed through countless trials, and emerged as a perfected being of immense power. Each of her spirits wielded strength nearly equal to a half-ancestor; with three united, her might was beyond measure.

In a sense, her three spirits were akin to Laozi's 'One Qi Transforms Three Purities,' but hers were far more enduring. In the cultivation world, she was one of the two mightiest women, a match for Qinglian Tiannu and a half-ancestor with few rivals.

'You are Xiao Chen, the one with some ties to Chiyou? I saw you on the Eastern Sea,' the Three-Yuan Ancient Lord said coldly. 'You do not yet understand your situation. All half-ancestors will be your enemies. Except the two who are half-sealed in the mortal world, every other half-ancestor wants you dead.'

Xiao Chen did not react, maintaining his silence.

'I am not exaggerating,' she said. 'There is only one way to change this fate: seal the Yellow Clay Altar and bind this ancient village. Otherwise, no one can save you.'

Xiao Chen finally opened his eyes. 'Since you are so mighty, you seal it yourselves.'

A roar split the heavens as a colossal white tiger descended from the sky, landing beside the Three-Yuan Ancient Lord. It was the White Tiger Saint Emperor in his true form.

Hai Yunxue and Hu Diewu hurried forward and bowed. 'Greetings, Patriarch.'

'Arise. You are not at fault for failing to kill Xiao Chen and seal this place.' The White Tiger Saint Emperor shook his head and turned to the Three-Yuan Ancient Lord. 'It seems we have arrived too late. We knew something was wrong here, but never imagined such a catastrophe was buried within. Had I known, I would have stormed this place even at the risk of total annihilation.'

The Three-Yuan Ancient Lord was silent for a long moment before replying, 'Those two half-sealed fools from the mortal world masked all the aura. They have been sitting on this place, blinding everyone's perception.'

The cultivators were stunned. What secret lay hidden here that could make half-ancestors so alarmed?

A flash of golden light: a blazing sun descended—the Sun Holy God incarnate. Golden light radiated from him in waves, and he sighed, 'Who exactly are Renwai Tian and Tianwai Tian? They must be famous powerhouses who appeared in history.'

The Sun Knights immediately paid their respects.

Three half-ancestors from two opposing worlds—the Eternal Continent and the cultivation realm—stood here together. Even the least perceptive cultivator could tell that the ancient village was of dire importance, touching the very safety of the half-ancestors themselves.

The Twelve Golden Immortals of the Chan Sect arrived together, followed by clouds of auspicious light. The Chan Sect's founder, Primordial, descended from the sky.

'Lord Tongtian and I tried to pursue Tianwai Tian and Renwai Tian, but they escaped,' Primordial said with a sigh.

Murderous aura surged as Tongtian Jiaozhu descended from the heavens, his Four Immortal-Slaying Swords howling, their gale forcing every cultivator below the half-ancestor level to stagger backwards.

'How hateful!' Tongtian's eyes blazed as he swept his gaze across Xiao Chen on the Yellow Clay Altar.

The White Tiger Saint Emperor sighed. 'My fault. Renwai Tian's disciple blocked the demon shadow I refined. I should have come myself. I never imagined such a great calamity was hidden here.'

He snorted heavily, his sharp gaze cutting toward Xiao Chen like a blade of divine light. The Yellow Clay Altar rose with a surge of Xuanhuang qi, shattering the light sword and sending it rebounding toward the White Tiger Saint Emperor. The tiger king leaped into the sky to dodge before descending again.

'If we force our way in, what are our chances?' Primordial asked.

'One in ten,' Tongtian replied, his eyes fierce with murderous intent.

At that moment, two more half-ancestors descended: Zhunti and Jieyin, followed by several from the cultivation world. Da Yu and Hou Yi, figures of legend, also appeared.

All around, the onlookers felt as if they were dreaming. Half-ancestors gathered in one place!

'You are here too. The two of you might not necessarily die,' Primordial said, looking at Da Yu and Hou Yi.

They did not speak.

'Still, Laozi and the Buddha are detached, not even showing their faces,' Tongtian mused. 'But even if they survive…' He frowned, unable to predict what would come.

Gales swept the sky as two war-godlike figures manifested and descended. Xing Tian swept his gaze around, utterly unafraid of the assembled crowd. 'Everything will be settled now. Those who should not exist will naturally vanish.'

Tongtian replied coldly, 'I know you will survive, but your friend Chiyou will surely die.'

Chiyou remained calm. 'Death is nothing to fear. To have existed is enough.'

Xing Tian shook his head. 'Even with his power reduced, surviving is not a problem for him.' He turned to Da Yu and Hou Yi. 'You two will live as well. Why walk with them?'

'Just came to look,' Hou Yi and Da Yu said shortly.

From the Yellow Clay Altar, Xiao Chen watched everything. When Chiyou glanced his way, he asked heavily, 'Because of this village, you might die?'

'Yes,' Chiyou nodded.

'What must I do to save you?' Xiao Chen asked.

'There is no need to force it. Some things cannot be stopped,' Chiyou said, serene.

The Three-Yuan Ancient Lord laughed coldly. 'You are quite open-minded about this.' She turned to Xiao Chen. 'If you want to save him, seal the Yellow Clay Altar and bind this ancient village. Then nothing will happen.'

'Do not listen to her. Let things take their course. No one can resist.' Chiyou shot into the sky and left the place.

'Follow your own heart,' Xing Tian said, casting a deep glance at Xiao Chen before departing as well.

The surrounding crowd was utterly stunned. They knew something monumental was about to unfold.

But Xiao Chen understood nothing. He had no idea what the half-ancestors feared.

'When yin and yang wage war, blood soaks the dark and yellow. We have at most three years. Let us prepare early.' Tongtian soared into the sky.

Primordial, the Sun Holy God, Zhunti, and Jieyin departed one after another.

Then the Three-Yuan Ancient Lord, Da Yu, Hou Yi, and the other half-ancestors of the cultivation world stood in silence for a moment before they too took to the heavens.

No one could grasp what had happened, why it had come to this.

Xiao Chen pondered for a long time but could not understand how the ancient village could annihilate half-ancestors. He looked at the Yellow Clay Altar beneath him and sensed no destructive power within it. All the villagers had fallen into an endless sleep—unwaking but unharmed. Linglong and Tutu, the youngest daughter of the Yellow Emperor, were fast asleep in a lane, and Xiao Chen carried them to a room.

He set aside his worries. Since some things could not be avoided, he would wait for them to come. He began to cultivate in silence.

Autumn winds withered the grass and sent yellow leaves tumbling, leaving ripe fruit on the far fields. But no one picked them; the village lay desolate.

Cultivators still passed by, but none dared approach. Most came only to see what that strange place looked like.

Xiao Chen sat like a fossil, utterly still. Dead leaves and dust covered him; autumn rains washed over him. In time, he was buried in sand and grime, a true stone carving. His hair, once dark and lustrous, faded to gray and then withered, as if a single gust of wind would snap and scatter it.

Snow fell. Winter arrived.

Xiao Chen was frozen within the ice, deathly silent. No breath of life emanated from him; it seemed he had already passed into stillness.

Over the months, Liu Mu, Niu Ren, and Yi Zhen heard the news and came, but they could not approach the village. No matter how they called, they could not wake Xiao Chen.

They did manage to rouse Keke once, but the little creature glanced at them and fell back asleep.

Only on New Year's Eve did Xiao Chen stir from the deathly stillness, a flicker of life awakening within him. After months of silent meditation, he had grasped the true meaning of life and death, resonating with the voice within the Yellow Clay Altar. His cultivation soared, breaking into the Nirvana realm.

For months he had sat like a withered tree—it was itself a manifestation of nirvana. Now, having crossed into that realm, he faced the crisis of death. He had already passed through the first heavenly tier's tribulation.