The 'Om' Sound Emerges: A Hundred Experts Annihilated

The celestial 'Om' sound had killed a hundred experts in one stroke, shaking the world. From all directions, powerful masters began to gather, drawn by the shockwaves.

The Tiger Clan dispatched wave after wave of experts, surrounding the small mountain village. Hai Yunxue looked as though she had gone mad. Before her very eyes, Xiao Chen had slaughtered Hai Fanyun—a complete trampling of her soul and the honor of both herself and the Tiger Clan.

Yet Xiao Chen sat unmoving on the Yellow-Clay Altar, laboring bitterly at his profound arts. He let the wind and snow assail him, as still as a stone statue, utterly indifferent to the world outside.

After using the Eight Syllables of Origin in battle, Xiao Chen had spent time in quiet contemplation. The 'Om' sound had seared itself into his mind, fusing with his soul, and he had gained a far deeper understanding of its truth.

Snow fell thicker and thicker, the world transformed into a realm of pure white. A heavy blizzard once again buried Xiao Chen. From within the Yellow-Clay Altar, the ancient sounds of the Eight Syllables pulsed in turns—sometimes like a fierce war hymn, sometimes like a gentle melody, ever-changing and unfathomable.

Xiao Chen and the Yellow-Clay Altar were completely sealed within the snow. One could only make out the silhouette of a figure seated cross-legged upon the platform.

Hai Yunxue was incandescent with rage. Her elegant brows were inverted, her phoenix eyes wide and round. A murderous look stained her peerlessly beautiful face, and baleful energy surged in her gaze. But she could do nothing to Xiao Chen; she could only watch helplessly as her great foe sat there in quiet cultivation.

Fang Tianqi, who had been enfeoffed as a king on Mount Tai, was originally one of the ten strongest young experts in the Cultivation World. Now he was even more renowned, his name shaking the world. Upon learning of his younger brother's death, he led a large force of experts to the scene.

Ye Tian, also one of the ten strongest young experts of the Cultivation World—enfeoffed as a king on Mount Hua—had lost his younger sister Ye Jun to Xiao Chen. He too arrived in force at the earliest opportunity.

For three days, experts from all directions heard the news and came flocking.

Rumor had it that the famously powerful young masters Zhao Chongyang, Xuewu, Meng Xienji, and Canghai had also come to the outskirts of the Primordial Ancient Village, though no one knew where they were hiding. Those who could be enfeoffed as kings and lords in their own lands were naturally the most outstanding of their generation, and all wanted to see how Xiao Chen had instantaneously killed a hundred men.

Naturally, older generation figures arrived as well, and the experts sent by great powers like the Sun Church, the Chan Sect, and the Jie Sect were all extraordinary individuals.

But for those three days, Xiao Chen neither asked nor responded. His body was like dead wood, sunk in silence. He paid no heed to the powerful enemies outside, remaining unmoved. His heart was utterly still. The Heavenly Stele Profound Art rose in his mind, the Eight Syllables of Origin rang in his ears, and strands of essential qi seeped from every pore on his body, flowing slowly over his skin. He became one with the world outside, gradually merging into unity.

The so-called Union of Heaven and Man was slowly becoming manifest at this moment.

Some cultivators outside keenly sensed his state, which only infuriated Fang Tianqi and Ye Tian further. While others stood in the wind and snow, he was cultivating as if no one else existed—infuriating and hateful.

On the fourth day, Xiao Chen finally awakened. The ice and snow encasing his body shattered and fell away.

At that moment, the snow finally stopped. The morning sunlight spilled down, turning the pure white snow into a crystalline, jade-like world.

Seeing the countless figures moving among the woods beyond the village, and the many experts gathered there, Xiao Chen rose to his feet. When he saw Hai Yunxue, Fang Tianqi, Ye Tian, and others who wished him dead, he burst into laughter. The strange sound tore through the sky, shaking the snow from the trees, which fell in a cascade.

"Xiao Chen, come out and fight!" Fang Tianqi roared from outside the village. Immortal qi swirled around him, but it could not hide the killing intent that soared to the heavens.

Ye Tian, already clad in a purple-gold immortal battle-robe, stood in midair with a golden bell suspended before him. Its light made the sky glow bright, and even seemed to tinge the white snow a faint gold. He said coldly, "If you dare come out, I'll fight you with one hand tied behind my back."

"You say battle when you want to? I say when it's time to fight, then it's time," Xiao Chen replied, sweeping his gaze across the enemy before him. He turned deliberately and walked back into the village, leaving them all standing there without a second glance.

"You...!"

Several hot-tempered young cultivators glared furiously at his back, too enraged to speak.

"Wait there. When the battle begins depends on my mood."

Xiao Chen's voice drifted back from the street, making the hot-tempered ones burst with fury.

"Damn it! Did I come all this way just to be insulted?"

"Get out here, you coward! I'll crush you with three fingers!"

Many were cursing.

Xiao Chen paid them no heed. His heart was utterly peaceful. Three days of silent contemplation had deepened his understanding of the profound arts. The Heavenly Stele Divine Diagram, the Martial Imprint, the Eight Syllables of Origin, the Reverse Dragon Seven Steps—all surfaced in his mind, and many hidden meanings gradually became clear.

Walking along the snow-covered village lane, Xiao Chen's body slowly grew indistinct, as if it might vanish at any moment, blending into the surrounding heaven and earth. All was harmonious and natural—a classic sign of profound arts advancing.

Beneath a grove of ancient locust trees within the village, Xiao Chen sensed an incomparably powerful life fluctuation. It was... the snow-white little beast. Only now that he had stepped into the Nirvana realm did he truly understand how immense Keke's potential was. Within that fluffy, snowball-like body lay unimaginable strength.

Xiao Chen rose into the air and, as if plucking a bird from its nest, reached into the cozy nest woven from spiritual herbs atop the tree and pulled Keke out.

The little creature was sleeping soundly, curled into a round ball. Even when snatched, it was still mumbling in its dreams.

"Ya-ya ya-ya..." The little thing blearily opened its big eyes and made dissatisfied sounds, as if blaming Xiao Chen for disturbing its sweet dream.

Still half-asleep, its round body seemed to have grown a bit plumper, adorable beyond words. Its snowy-white fur was smoother than jade, glimmering with a faint luster. It grumbled its discontent, then lazily reached into Paradise Lost and pulled out a foot-long golden ginseng, nearly as long as its own body. Clutching it to its chest, it began to eat with relish.

Xiao Chen couldn't help but laugh. This little thing had hibernated for months, and the first thing it did upon waking was look for food. Truly, old habits die hard. Xiao Chen carried it to the ground and headed home along the silent street.

The things happening in the village were hard to understand. Even now, all the villagers were still in a deep, sweet slumber.

First, he shook the two little girls awake. The moment Linglong and Tutu opened their eyes, they lashed out with over a dozen streaks of multicolored light, nearly sending Keke, who had dodged just in time, flying. Their alertness was extraordinary.

Then the three energetic troublemakers began chasing each other noisily.

Xiao Chen looked at his parents and began to call to them softly. In the end, the two elders also woke up. Nothing seemed abnormal, as if they had only slept for a moment. But when they saw the snow-covered world outside the window, they were stunned speechless.

Next, Xiao Chen woke some of the other villagers, mostly the elderly, to ask if similar events had happened in the past.

"Yes... something very much like this happened before," said one man nearly a hundred years old, leaning unsteadily on his cane. "It's been many, many years... I don't know exactly what era it was. Our villagers fell asleep for no reason at all, and we woke up to find that centuries had passed in the outside world."

The old man slowly recounted the seemingly absurd secrets. "Everyone thought they had only slept a single night, but they were shocked to learn that dynasties had risen and fallen several times outside. The strangest thing was, nothing in the village had changed at all—even the water in the pot was still warm, the fire in the stove hadn't gone out. Everything was frozen at that one moment."

A single day in the cave; a thousand years in the mortal world.

Xiao Chen was greatly startled. Such a thing had happened before? It was truly unbelievable. But the old people who had been woken showed no fear at all. On the contrary, they were overjoyed.

"Great-grandfather... how can you laugh?" Xiao Chen asked in astonishment.

The oldest of them held Xiao Chen's hand mysteriously and said, "Legend has it that after that great sleep, many of our ancestors became beings who could fly through the sky and travel through the earth. This time... maybe..."

All the old men narrowed their eyes and smiled.

Xiao Chen was at a loss for words. He could not fathom what secrets this so-called Primordial Ancient Village held.

By now, all the villagers who had not yet woken were aroused. Xiao Chen hurriedly told them not to leave the village. Unexpectedly, not a single person was afraid. After hearing the old men's words, everyone smiled. Many young people were excited, apparently waiting to become immortals.

Xiao Chen was thoroughly speechless.

No more forced labor on the Yellow River. Life in the village had become rich and prosperous. The air was filled with joy. They killed sheep and chickens, preparing to celebrate a belated Spring Festival.

Xiao Chen walked around the ancient village, worried that the villagers might disregard his warning and leave. But he soon relaxed; no one did.

Seeing the villagers busy and smelling the meat and wine, the cultivators trapped in the frozen wilderness outside glared darkly at Xiao Chen as he paced about, shooting him cold looks.

Xiao Chen uttered the celestial 'Om' sound once more. This sound held the power of life and death. But this time, he did not use the force of death to kill. Instead, he used the force of life to make the flowers and trees in the village burst through the snow, sprout new buds, and bloom. Fruit trees in front of every house and behind every hut produced enticing fruits.

Jade-green trees grew lush and full. Among the green leaves, pink peaches, golden persimmons, fragrant apples, split-open pomegranates—every branch was heavy with fruit, a magnificent harvest.

Against the backdrop of this snowy world, such a vibrant scene was nothing short of a miracle. The villagers were overjoyed, more certain than ever that immortals who could fly through the skies would appear in the village.

Seeing Xiao Chen's feat, the cultivators outside were greatly shocked. Even a Deathless Longevity expert could not make every tree and blade of grass in an entire village burst into life in an instant, could they? What kind of power was this?

They did not understand—this was not a matter of cultivation level.

Xiao Chen realized that this too was a form of cultivation. By controlling the celestial sounds and vibrating his soul in resonance, his understanding of the 'Om' sound slowly deepened.

This fresh and lively method of cultivation satisfied the villagers while refining Xiao Chen's own cultivation. He grabbed Keke, who was in the middle of a 'great battle' with the two little girls, and asked it to take out some divine trees and exotic flowers from Paradise Lost.

Paradise Lost was filled with many rare flowers and trees. Though the fruits they bore were not top-grade spiritual essences, to mortals they were extraordinary fruits rich in dense spiritual qi—enough to prolong life. If shared with the villagers, they would naturally live longer.

The little creature was extremely generous. It waved its little paw as if to say, "Take whatever you want. As much as you like." These fruits were everywhere in Paradise Lost, and Keke's appetite had long since become picky; it couldn't be bothered to eat them.

The only thing it cared about in Paradise Lost was a grove at the center, where divine trees had grown from the fragmented spiritual energies of over a dozen half-ancestors who had been killed in the great battle with Otherworld half-ancestors in the Ancient God Wasteland of the World of Immortality.

Each tree was a towering giant, covered in unripe fruits. Every time it woke, the little creature would visit it seven times a day, hoping for a harvest. But these fruits seemed as if they would never ripen, never changing no matter how much time passed. It could only gaze at them longingly.

In less than half a day, rare flowers and exotic fruits had replaced the original plants. A thick spiritual energy began to permeate the ancient village, convincing the villagers even more firmly that immortality was at hand. The children eagerly climbed the trees to pick the golden, glittering fruits.

Xiao Chen felt that planting these spiritual trees truly consumed vital energy, but it was definitely a kind of training. He silently recited the 'Om' sound, cultivating amidst the ordinary life of the village.

The villagers were beaming; the cultivators outside, glowering.

Xiao Chen did not want to fight a great battle in front of the villagers.

When noon came, something astonishing happened. The strange flowers and divine trees Xiao Chen had planted released even denser spiritual energy. Rainbows of light began to swirl around them. The snow at their roots melted rapidly. The entire village seemed to stir to life like a giant living organism—not just the plants.

Before long, all the ice and snow had melted. The ground became radiant, and a faint, colorful mist rose, hazy and illusory, curling through the entire village like a dream, like a fairyland. It was not only the villagers who were amazed; even the cultivators surrounding the village paled in shock and uncertainty.

How could this be? Xiao Chen found it hard to understand. He once again sat on the Yellow-Clay Altar at the village entrance, calming his mind and sensing the whole village. He discovered that spiritual energy was surging from deep within the earth, connecting with the roots of those strange flowers and trees.

The strange trees had linked the spiritual veins, thereby transforming the ancient village into a paradise. Xiao Chen concentrated his mind and probed deeper underground. Suddenly, his heart was shaken. Beneath the source of spiritual energy, an enormous dark shadow stretched endlessly. It was a massive—

—an underground city!

Though he was using his celestial eye to see through the earth, he could not make out the details. It was blurry, as if endless dark clouds were swirling around it.

So the ancient village was truly extraordinary. Xiao Chen was now certain that it was far simpler beneath its surface than it appeared.

Though he did not know how many miles underground it lay, Xiao Chen could still feel its weight and immensity. That vast city's shadow was filled with an ancient, timeworn aura that stirred his heart, sending his emotions rippling. An unimaginably powerful pressure radiated up from below the earth.

At that moment, Xiao Chen was startled. That was...

Clouds rolled and churned. The underground giant city appeared faintly in the darkness. A point of light from within the ancient city entered Xiao Chen's heart, striking him like a thunderbolt. The shock sent him tumbling off the Yellow-Clay Altar.

Many cultivators outside the village gloated, thinking Xiao Chen had lost control of his cultivation and fallen into a demonic deviation.

Without the Yellow-Clay Altar, he could not perceive what was underground. Not wanting the people outside the village to notice anything unusual, Xiao Chen carried the Yellow-Clay Altar back into the village and sat down cross-legged on it once more.

That point of light again reached his heart from below. The Yellow-Clay Altar trembled faintly. The ancient sounds of the Eight Syllables rang out together, and he finally saw clearly what it was—a divine lamp, burning with an eternal flame, suspended within the ancient city. It was the only light there.

How strange and sinister. Countless ages had passed, yet it had not gone out.

The Eight Syllables of Origin rang together, sometimes rough and heroic, sometimes gentle and melodious, until only the single 'Om' sound remained. The Yellow-Clay Altar shook violently. At the same time, the broken stone man within Xiao Chen's body rippled with faint fluctuations.

"BOOM!"

It was a great tremor!

This entire realm shook. Xiao Chen felt the sky spin and the earth turn. Then the world around him became utterly bright. He could see nothing else; only a soft, sacred light filled his vision.

When everything calmed down, Xiao Chen was still sitting cross-legged on the Yellow-Clay Altar. An ancient divine lamp hovered silently beside his left shoulder, as if illuminating the path before him.

Neither metal nor wood, it had endured endless ages, yet the ancient lamp burned on with a long, undying flame.

The light flickered, casting shadows on the Yellow-Clay Altar. Xiao Chen and the altar seemed to have fused together into a single, motionless whole.