The Dead City Descends

A gentle breeze stirred the ancient grove of locust trees, carrying the fresh fragrance of blossoms through the air. Petals scattered like swirling snow, drifting in profusion—the white flowers, succumbing to the growing warmth, were withering at last. They fell like tears of rain, as if foretelling an era of turmoil about to descend upon this desolate primeval village.

For forty-nine days, Xiao Chen had kept silent vigil in the village. Now, at last, the Dead City from the mysterious lower space began to manifest in the real world. On this day, it slowly rose and emerged, standing above the earth. Yet it remained shrouded in a haze, as if endless mist coiled around it, lending it an unreal, illusory quality.

The Dead City had not yet fully broken into the Mortal World, but clearly its descent could no longer be stopped. The day of its complete manifestation might come at any moment. Its walls, black as iron, rose over a hundred meters high—thick and solid, pressing down upon all who beheld them with an indescribable weight, as if the Five Sacred Mountains had merged into one and stood here. Though mist swirled, the grand city gate was still faintly visible; the breath of death could not be fully sealed, and its terrible atmosphere could already be felt.

Both Xiao Chen and Keke had ventured into the Dead City before, barely escaping with their lives. Those harrowing memories seemed only yesterday.

The ancient village had already lifted from the ground to make way for the Dead City, floating to a spot not far away in midair, as if standing guard over the great and fearsome city as it descended. The undying eternal lamp left the Dead City and flew above the ancient village, hovering motionless, illuminating the entire place.

As the days passed, the ancient city grew clearer and clearer. Its majestic aura overwhelmed the sun and moon, causing the very stars to tremble.

The transfer of royal power does not always require bloodshed. When the old emperor ascended to heaven, the throne of the Nine Provinces passed not to any of his sons, but to his most beloved daughter—Zhao Lin'er. Rumors of usurpation and forced abdication spread through the palace, but they could not change the fact that Zhao Lin'er had become a reigning empress. After one of the crown princes vanished for half a month, the various rumors gradually subsided.

Zhao Lin'er ascended the throne facing south, and her first act was to consolidate imperial power, ensuring that voices inside and outside the court were united. The four seas acknowledged the sovereign empress. Then she issued a secret decree, quietly commencing construction projects across the realm, building many halls and temples.

Almost simultaneously, the Sun God Church, the White Tiger Sacred Church, the Chan Sect, the Jie Sect, the Immortal Sword Sect, and others sprang up like bamboo shoots after rain, establishing preaching grounds in every part of the Nine Provinces. The temples had clearly been prepared for them.

The imperial palace in the capital stood majestic—carved beams, painted rafters, gold and splendor, like celestial halls descended upon the mortal world. It gathered the finest architecture of past and present, a pinnacle of craftsmanship.

"The dragon qi of the Nine Provinces surges to heaven; imperial power is heavenly power. The empire's fortune will endure for ten thousand years. The empress will preside over the rise and fall of the world... provided she survives this critical time."

If any powerful cultivator had been present, they would have been astonished to see that the guests the empress feasted were beings of extraordinary origin: for instance, the Sun Divine Son Aolituo, the Third Son of the White Tiger Saint Emperor Hu Ben, and one of the Twelve Golden Immortals of the Chan Sect.

The imperial palace blazed with light, filled with song and dance. Zhao Lin'er smiled and chatted amiably with these great figures of the cultivation world.

"If that man does not die, my heart will never find peace..." said the Divine Son Aolituo, whose body Xiao Chen had once shattered, though he had now fully recovered.

"Let us hope the ancient method works," said Hu Ben. One of his tiger legs had been roasted and eaten by Xiao Chen, but he too had completely recovered. A cruel smile touched his lips. "I am eager to see the Yellow-Clay Altar seek another master... I can hardly wait."

Ye Xiao, the favored daughter of the Three-Babe Grandmistress, was a graceful and dignified beauty. She shook her head. "The time is too short; it may not have any effect at all."

"Not necessarily," Hu Ben replied, his voice calm yet cold. "The vow power of the people of the Nine Provinces might curse him to death directly, not merely strip him of the Yellow-Clay Altar."

Far on the distant horizon, a crystal tower shimmered with seven-colored radiance, bright as a colossal pearl in the night sky. It rotated slowly, dreamlike and surreal. Below it stood a girl who made the very moon seem pale. Clad in white, her skin like snow, her long black hair smooth and lustrous, her eyes holding poetry and spirit, she stood quietly in the void, bathed in the hazy moonlight—more ethereal and lively than any celestial maiden.

"So the master's crystal tower is best used for eavesdropping. Heaven knows how many juicy secrets he spied back in the day." Qingqing laughed softly, as carefree as ever. She murmured to herself, "I thought building all those temples and gathering the people's faith was meant to preserve the Half-Ancestors' lives. Turns out they were working a malicious curse..."

The outside world knew that something had changed at the ancient village, but not the details. Black clouds churned around the primeval village; fog filled the air, sealing the place completely. No one dared approach.

Xiao Chen and Keke held the village, cultivating quietly each day, waiting for the Dead City to fully cross over. He wanted to know what would happen. But in recent days, he had felt vague signs of disaster. Whenever he attempted to meditate, endless malevolent souls and demonic shadows swarmed around him, trying to devour his spirit. Without the Yellow-Clay Altar protecting him, his divine consciousness would have collapsed several times. Misfortune clung to him like a curse.

The Yellow-Clay Altar trembled constantly, and the Eight Syllables of Origin shattered countless evil spirits, but this could not continue. Constantly disturbed, he could not cultivate at all. Xiao Chen had the vague sense that someone was working against him, but with the Dead City's descent at a critical juncture, he feared missing something and was reluctant to leave.

On the sixty-third day of silent vigil, a thunderous roar shook the entire Nine Provinces. One corner of the Dead City descended into the mortal world. In that moment, though the outside world did not know of the Dead City's arrival, all cultivators felt a terrible anomaly. They sensed that something monumental was about to happen. The whole world trembled!

At the same time, out on the ocean beyond the Nine Provinces, faint silhouettes appeared in several places—glimpses of great cities, desolate wastes, and ancient islands seeming ready to cross over. The most distinct among them was Dragon Island, already showing vague outlines. Faint dragon roars and beastly howls could be heard from the Eastern Sea, terrifying sounds that chilled the heart. Vague, colossal forms at the island's edge were just barely visible, and many recognized them at once as savage dragons!

The reappearance of ancient savage dragons spread through the Nine Provinces in an instant. Countless people turned their attention there. It was an earth-shattering message: a dragon race that could make even gods tremble, if it truly reappeared in the world, would likely reshuffle the entire cultivation world. Cultivators from the World of Immortality knew full well how terrifying they were. The practitioners of the Cultivation World blanched at the news. The disciples of the Half-Ancestors felt dread in their hearts; they vaguely guessed that the sweeping changes across the Nine Provinces were linked to the Half-Ancestors approaching their end. The great cities and ancient islands seemed to be manifesting for them.

Xiao Chen truly understood that someone was using an unknown secret art against him. Several times his divine consciousness nearly collapsed. But as the Dead City came forth bit by bit, the evil curse ceased to work. A crack opened in the city gate, and it seemed that all the attacking evil spirits were devoured into it. Xiao Chen was deeply surprised.

"Something's wrong..." came an astonished voice from the distant imperial palace. "So much time has passed—why hasn't the Yellow-Clay Altar stirred at all? It should have been drawn out by the people's faith. Strange!"

"Is it truly unshakable?" Hu Ben's eyes gleamed with cold light. "I don't believe that brat is perfectly fused with the Yellow-Clay Altar."

In the following days, not only did Xiao Chen cease to be plagued by malevolent resentment, but a pure and mysterious power surged toward him like a vast tide, making the entire region sacred and peaceful. It was like sweet dew falling from heaven, like divine springs gushing from the earth. Endless spiritual energy was driven by a gentle wave, coalescing from all directions. The essence of heaven and earth, the rays of sun and moon, seemed summoned, all converging upon Xiao Chen.

He clearly sensed that this was a mysterious force opposite to the malevolent resentment—endless, gathering from every direction. He did not absorb this force itself, but rather drew in the limitless spiritual energy it brought. It was an unimaginable gift. Endless heavenly and earthly spiritual energy, condensed by mysterious vow power, submerged Xiao Chen.

Spiritual energy was of little use to cultivators at the Nirvana realm; what they needed now was to break through the deathly tribulation, not material power. But for Xiao Chen, this energy so dense it was nearly liquefied was a tremendously effective supplement. His acupoints were like bottomless voids, madly absorbing and devouring. In just a few days, six or seven acupoints glowed brilliantly, filled with boundless spiritual energy, completely divinized.

Days passed. In the imperial capital, an angry voice finally rang out: "Why are the effects completely reversed?! That area is clearly serene and auspicious—though shrouded in black mist, it must be filled with thousands of radiant lights inside, just not bursting forth yet!"

"Investigate! Find out what happened!"

A day later, Hu Ben, Ye Xiao, the Sun Divine Son, and the others were stunned by the news: in nine great temples across the Nine Provinces, the spirit tablets of the Half-Ancestors had been replaced with Xiao Chen's.

"Pfft!" Hu Ben crushed a palace maid's head with one hand, then in fury smashed several halls to rubble with a single palm strike. Ye Xiao, the Sun Divine Son, and the others were equally darkened of face, remaining silent for a long time.

Empress Zhao Lin'er arrived upon hearing the news. After learning the situation, she frowned. She vaguely sensed that things were going badly—she would likely be implicated by these Half-Ancestor disciples.

"Find out who did this!" the Sun Divine Son Aolituo said, his voice calm but carrying a chill.

At that moment, the true culprit, Qingqing, was leisurely touring the scenic spots of the Nine Provinces, visiting every famous mountain and great river, utterly unconcerned about the incident of the swapped spirit tablets. "Boring, so boring. All the blessed grottoes are occupied by those big sects. I'll go check out the primeval village." She journeyed westward, leisurely heading toward Yongzhou.

What should have been a moderate disaster had, thanks to Qingqing's meddling, turned into a blessing in disguise. Over those days, the mysterious power drove endless spiritual energy to flood the ancient village. Xiao Chen's body acted like a bottomless abyss, absorbing like a sea receiving a hundred rivers. He fully divinized over a dozen acupoints. Moreover, the malevolent resentment had attacked him several times, nearly annihilating his body and soul, forcing him to undergo two Nirvana death-tribulations. After passing through them, he entered the Sixth Heaven of Nirvana.

If Hu Ben and the Sun Divine Son had known this outcome, they would have been furious enough to smoke from their seven orifices.

Having entered the Sixth Heaven of Nirvana, the body's treasury was opened again, releasing boundless potential. Xiao Chen's cultivation rose to a new peak. He was now certain that his combat power might already surpass experts at the peak of Deathless Longevity. If he successfully completed his Nirvana journey, he would indeed—as Liu Mu and Niu Ren had said—leap directly over the Nine Heavens of Longevity and enter a higher great realm.

At that moment, the soundly sleeping Keke suddenly woke. Rubbing her big eyes drowsily, she sniffed the air, then suspiciously leaped out of the floating ancient village. Soon, Xiao Chen heard Keke's voice—it seemed she was in trouble. Alarmed, he grabbed the Yellow-Clay Altar and rushed out of the village, hovering in midair to look into the distance.

Clouds churned. Keke seemed to be fighting someone, sweeping out seven-colored divine light. But the hazy figure moved like a dream, passing through space as if strolling through a courtyard, evading all attacks. As the little beast's rainbow light intensified, the figure's movements grew more elusive, impossible to catch. Once, the figure darted close and nearly caught Keke, making her cry out in alarm.

The invincible little beast, nearly bested? Keke's power had grown greatly, and she too had acquired extreme speed—yet she had nearly lost against this opponent. Xiao Chen was shocked.

Finally, the little beast opened Paradise Lost, turning the tide completely. From then on, she was inherently undefeatable, and several times nearly trapped her opponent inside. At that point, the attacker ceased. She traversed space, flickering across the sky. A voice like heavenly music laughed softly: "All right, little one, stop fussing. I'll give you a Celestial Fruit."

"Qingqing!"

Xiao Chen was astounded. It was Qingqing who had come. She was as beautiful and ethereal as ever. This airy maiden, every time one met her, seemed so kind—her joy seemed to infect others. She evaded the little beast and flew lightly over, dimples appearing on her jade cheeks as she smiled.

She had long known of Keke's existence, learning of the little beast's nature from Xiao Chen. So she had lured Keke from afar with the fragrance of a divine fruit, trying to trap her. Once Xiao Chen explained, Keke grew huffy—she had been treated like a greedy cat! Too embarrassing! But as Qingqing shook a Celestial Fruit at her, all discontent vanished in an instant. Keke hugged the fruit blissfully, her face full of rapture, and was smoothly picked up by Qingqing. The little beast made a small protest, but she had accepted the fruit after all, so her voice was very weak.

Xiao Chen laughed. It was the first time someone outside had held Keke; she had finally met someone who could handle her.

When he learned from Qingqing about the scheme of Hu Ben, the Sun Divine Son, and Ye Xiao, he understood everything about the strange events of recent days. He laughed heartily at Qingqing's bold move, imagining the green-faced fury of Hu Ben and the others.

"So this is the Dead City? Nothing so special about it," Qingqing said, flitting about it like a sprite, trying to study it closely.

"Boom!"

The Dead City shook, revealing another corner. Qingqing hastily retreated, clutching Keke. Only then did she feel the terrible aura within. So she joined the vigil. More than ten days later, the Dead City descended completely.

In that instant, a vast, crushing pressure swept across the Nine Provinces, like an overwhelming flood drowning the entire land. Then the monstrous waves vanished in a flash. It came and went swiftly; everyone thought it must have been an illusion. But in that brief moment, the souls of all living beings trembled. Cultivators knew that a startling change had occurred at the ancient village.

Endless dark clouds rolled, lightning and thunder crashing. Three days passed before the mist covering the area slowly dispersed. The great city was revealed to the mortal world for the first time. The ancient village once again became the focus of the realm. Countless cultivators rushed to gaze from afar. The Dead City upon the earth brought an indescribable pressure—it seemed a colossal thing, ready to awaken at any moment.

The Heavenly Stele, once knocked down by the old Ancestral Dragon's Six Paths of Reincarnation, had long since erected itself again, standing like a mountain, suppressing ten directions.

"Roar..."

Eerie roars erupted from within the ancient city from time to time, shaking the soul, as if a supreme demon lord beneath the abyss was about to awaken.

When countless cultivators arrived, they saw two figures standing atop the hundred-meter-high city gate tower. A young girl of ice skin and jade bones, light of form, with delicately arched brows holding a poem's grace and autumn-water eyes full of spirit, holding a lively little beast in her arms, clad in white, like a celestial maiden. Beside her stood the man who was the common enemy of the realm—Xiao Chen.

Everyone felt something was wrong. Those who had come from the World of Immortality and knew the Dead City's nature felt especially uneasy. To stand upon its gate tower—did that mean they now controlled the entire ancient city?