The Bleeding Altar

Of all the deadly lands in the Nine Provinces, the City of the Dead ranked among the top three.

At ordinary times, yin energy coiled here thick and sinister, black mist drifting endlessly. No cultivator willingly approached. The various powers that had once maintained watch outside its walls had long since withdrawn—over a hundred years ago. They could discern nothing from outside.

Xiao Chen stood atop the City of the Dead. All around him, radiance blazed. The demonic pattern on his forehead shone brilliantly, shooting beams of light. His divinely transformed acupoints glittered like stars within his flesh, and mysterious diagrams appeared on his skin. Phantom images of the heavenly steles flickered in and out of existence around him.

Twenty-seven War Swords floated in the four directions, arranged in a profound and complex sword formation, shooting up sword-light that pierced the heavens. In this moment, he felt filled with overwhelming power and, faintly, a certain connection to the City of the Dead.

"Xiao Chen, what's wrong?" the Divine Tribe giant Qier shouted.

Xiao Chen's body was flooded with divine power, light surging into the sky. His frame grew hotter and hotter, as if it were completely burning up.

In that instant, he finally understood that he had reestablished a link with the City of the Dead—just like in the old days!

Yes, now he felt his pulse beat as one with the city. He sensed its vast, majestic power, as if his will was about to merge with its own.

"You should go. I'll stay here for a while." Xiao Chen stood upon the City of the Dead, his jet-black hair flying wildly in the wind like ink. The holy radiance behind him shot up like a ten-thousand-zhang waterfall, piercing the sky, while around him endless black death-mist rolled and churned.

The group looked at one another in dismay. Tianya called out anxiously, "Big Brother Xiao Chen, be careful!"

Only Jin Sanyi shrugged, unconcerned. "It's fine. Bad grass lives for a thousand years. He and I have long lives—can't die even if we want to."

Ice Orchid and Snow Dream added a few words, then shouted toward the City of the Dead and departed first.

After Jin Sanyi and the others had all left, the area before the City of the Dead returned to stillness. Xiao Chen jumped straight down into the city.

If anyone had witnessed this bold move, they would have been utterly dumbfounded.

The deadly reputation of the City of the Dead had spread across the Nine Provinces and the myriad worlds beyond. Many great powers had sent people into the city to investigate its secrets, but every one of those cultivators had gone and never returned—however many entered, that many died.

As soon as one set foot inside the city, a sealing force blocked their escape. But that was not the most terrifying part. The most horrifying thing was that every deep house and ancient courtyard within the city harbored vicious spirits. No matter whether man, god, or demon, none could escape—they would be devoured alive!

Inside the City of the Dead, all was silent. The broad, ancient streets lay empty. Even under the noonday sun, a single figure walking there seemed dark and gloomy, heavy with death.

The colossal city had stood for uncountable ages. The ancient buildings lining the streets were carved with the weathering of time, yet they seemed immortal, forever standing undefeated.

Xiao Chen walked alone through the City of the Dead, feeling that stillness. The scenes of those bygone days seemed to reappear before his eyes.

In a daze, he seemed to see again the towering, heroic figure of Ancestral God Suiren, standing forlorn atop a building. Vaguely, he seemed to see many legendary figures who had long since passed, locked in battle amid flashing blades, flashing shadows, seas of blood, and mountains of bone.

Of course, these were all illusions—simply because his state of mind had merged with the feelings of those days.

On both sides of the great avenue, every ancient mansion held the fleshly body of a god, long since bereft of consciousness. Now, like prisoners, they had become part of the army that defended the City of the Dead.

How many men, gods, and demons had fallen in the City of the Dead? No one could say. An autumn wind blew, desolate and sorrowful, spreading through the city.

"Tap, tap, tap…"

On the silent old streets, only his own footsteps echoed. The vast city was dead and desolate.

Though the haunted mansions were filled with evil spirits, not a single fiend rushed out.

He had fought here. He had roared here. But now, revisiting the old ground, Xiao Chen's heart held only loneliness. No words could express his feelings at this moment.

Faintly, as if through a veil, he seemed to hear again the ancient song that had risen during the Calamity of the False Gods.

"Those broken mountains are the spine of heaven and earth; that dry, hard yellow clay is the blood of the earth; those mountain-like corpses are the sorrowful remains of the ancestors… Who still remembers that Suiren lit the path of mankind? How can we forget Shennong tasting the hundred herbs, his bones buried in a foreign land…"

He walked step by step toward the center of the city. That was the place where the heavenly stele had once suppressed the land. The Demon Well—even from far away, he could already feel its oppressive weight.

He stood silently in the middle of the square, gazing at the sealed Demon Well. Long he remained still, as if in a trance he could see again Qingqing, her white robes pure as snow, her soul ethereal and free.

Finally, he walked forward slowly, circled the well once, and then silently sat down before it.

He wanted to say something to the Demon Well, but found he could not force out a single word.

Sunrise and sunset, Xiao Chen sat there quietly for three days.

At last, he stood up in silence and walked away, step by step.

Suddenly, a tiny crack appeared in the bluestone ground of the square. Xiao Chen's divine eyes swept the area. To a casual glance, it looked no different from before, but under his heaven-seeing gaze, these minute details were fully captured.

There were many hidden cracks around him—very fine—but with Xiao Chen's level of cultivation, he could still detect them.

His heart stirred. He examined them carefully and discovered that the cracks radiated outward from the Demon Well as the center. However, there were none right next to the well—only at a slightly greater distance were they faintly visible.

The center of the radiation was the Demon Well!

Once he realized this, Xiao Chen's heart jumped. He immediately turned back.

The Yellow Clay Altar was hard and dry, firmly sealing the Demon Well. It looked perfectly normal.

Xiao Chen placed his left hand on it. He could sense no frightening fluctuations. But when he lifted his palm, he was shocked to see a few spots of crimson on his fingers—traces of blood had stained his hand!

This alarmed him greatly. The Yellow Clay Altar was seeping blood! What was happening?

The sealed Demon Well had developed a problem. Xiao Chen's heart sank.

This was a matter of great importance—one could even say a matter of heaven-shaking magnitude.

Xiao Chen's divine consciousness blazed like a bright moon, concentrated, and probed into the Yellow Clay Altar. All was dim and murky; he could not see anything clearly. He could discern no result.

The false gods of the past had all been eliminated cleanly. It could not be them causing trouble. So what had brought about such a result?

Thinking of the worst, it was terrifying. Anything was possible.

Thinking of the best, the Yellow Clay Altar was formed from the flesh and blood of Ancestral Gods—perhaps it still had vitality…

Regardless, the fact that the altar sealing the Demon Well was seeping blood was a problem that could not be ignored. Xiao Chen guessed darkly that this might be the trigger for why he had become one with the City of the Dead's pulse.

"Hmm?"

He noticed that the spots of blood on his hand turned into fine rays of light and rushed back into the Yellow Clay Altar. He touched it again, but no more crimson stained his hand.

He kept watch before the Demon Well for another three days, but had no further discoveries.

Having spent ten days in the City of the Dead, Xiao Chen left the square. No sealing force impeded him; he flew out of the city with ease.

"It's hard to say what will happen in the future. I hope I am overthinking this." He decided he must find a half-ancestor as soon as possible and inform them of this phenomenon.

Xiao Chen left the City of the Dead. He had intended to go find Keke, but after thinking it over, he abandoned the plan. He had already learned from the Divine Tribe elder Li Mu that the little one had nearly been bored to death in the Divine Village, had fled back to the Nine Provinces, and then entered the Sacred Mountain on Dragon Island to sleep—over a hundred years had passed without her awakening.

When he heard this result, Xiao Chen was not at all worried. He knew that the little one's strength would probably soar again. The little creature had a peerless natural talent and an extraordinary constitution; sleeping was equivalent to cultivation.

The City of the Dead was not very far from the ancient capital Chang'an in the western region. Xiao Chen came here.

After so many years, this millennia-old city was even more prosperous. The streets were thronged with traffic, people coming and going in an endless stream.

More than one hundred and fifty years had passed. The fourth most famous tower in the world—Misty Rain Tower—still stood tall and had become even more renowned. Over the past century, not only had many literati left poems here, but even more divine beings had inscribed their words.

Moreover, ever since three half-ancestors had once ascended here, the fame of Misty Rain Tower had been pushed to its peak, subtly gaining the momentum to become the second most famous tower in the world.

Over the past hundred years, several very famous secret battles had occurred here. The Five Elements Heavenly King and Wu Ming had dueled here with their divine arts. The Yecha Queen and the War God King had clashed here. A master of the Celestial Race had single-handedly killed five opponents of the same rank here. Three imperial-level experts had once been at swords' points here…

Many great experts had appeared here, making the tower's reputation grow ever greater. It had become a favorite gathering place for cultivators.

Now revisiting the old ground, no one recognized Xiao Chen. This made him sigh at the merciless passage of time. The current owner of Misty Rain Tower was the great-grandson of the original owner, and the guests upstairs were all people from the last few decades.

On the seventh floor, he quietly enjoyed his meal, savoring the wine. Naturally, there were many cultivators upstairs, and quite a few were discussing matters of the cultivation world.

"Xu Ziyan's Golden Snake Art is truly formidable—he single-handedly strangled four spellmasters of the same rank. Impressive."

"Don't forget who his grandfather is—the famous Nine-Headed Serpent. He was born a half-spirit, half-demon, so naturally he has exceptional talent."

"Hmph, what is Xu Ziyan? There are plenty of young people more powerful than him." Someone nearby sneered. "Have you ever heard of Wu Xiaoshi? A heaven-born prodigy, still in his twenties, almost undefeated among his peers."

"How could I not have heard?" someone immediately responded. "I've heard that Wu Xiaoshi is the son of a certain legendary Heavenly King."

Such gossip instantly drew the attention of many nearby. Someone asked, "Which Heavenly King's descendant?"

"It must be that legendary Heavenly King by the name of Wu."

"What? Wu Xiaoshi is his son?"

Some cried out in surprise, but more showed puzzled expressions.

"Which Heavenly King Wu?"

Someone scolded impatiently, "Are you a rookie? Forty years ago, he roamed the world and dueled the Five Elements Heavenly King right here in this tower. The Heavenly King surnamed Wu—surely you've heard of him? Twenty years ago, he fought a master of the Celestial Race for a full day and night and won. With such fame, you don't know him?"

The upstairs burst into exclamations.

"It's the legendary Wu Ming Heavenly King—among Heavenly Kings, he is definitely one of the strongest!"

"Exactly. With the Undying Imperial Heavenly Bell over his head and the Purple-Gold Heavenly Thunder Hammer in his hand, aside from the exceedingly rare experts of the Celestial Race, almost no Heavenly King of the same rank can shake him."

Not far away, Xiao Chen was startled. Nearly a hundred and sixty years had passed, and Wu Ming had already become a figure of legend. One could well imagine how many events had transpired. Time flies.

"Wu Ming Heavenly King's son, Wu Xiaoshi, is indeed extraordinary. In another hundred years or so, he will probably be the second Wu Ming Heavenly King."

"But I've heard that the son of the Gold King among the Five Elements Heavenly Kings, Huang Xinren, is also a remarkable figure—he will likely be a formidable rival for Wu Xiaoshi."

"Mm, there are indeed some extraordinary figures. The famous Little Asura is a powerhouse who can walk sideways. Even many old-timers give him a wide berth. They say he was trained by Cold Hanbing, the number one among imperial-level experts."

"Cold Hanbing? That sounds familiar."

An old man with white hair and beard sighed. "That is the Asura Emperor of the Earth-Penetrating realm, born in ancient times, peerlessly talented—the first among imperial-level experts."

"Oho, old sir, you sure know a lot—you even have this clear an understanding of old antiques like the Asura Emperor."

On the other side, a young man looked as if he had suddenly realized something, then laughed. "I remember now. That Asura Emperor appeared once about a hundred years ago, but it seemed he was beaten into a pig's head. Is he really the top imperial-level expert?"

In another corner, a young Asura by the window stood up.

"Shut your mouth! Don't slander my ancestor!"

"Brother Asura, I'm just stating facts. Many old-timers know this. Are you saying it's not true? If you only allow us to sing the Asura Emperor's praises, that's not fair. Over there is a brother of the Celestial Race—he also just mentioned that a master of the Celestial Race lost to Wu Ming Heavenly King, and he didn't say a word. Why are you being so domineering?"

The Asura nearly lost his temper on the spot, and it took the persuasion of others to stop him.

The white-haired old man said, "Let us speak freely, but let's not hurt the harmony. That Asura Emperor did indeed suffer a great loss over a hundred years ago. I was fortunate enough to witness that battle—it was truly world-shaking. I will be content for the rest of my life."

"Old sir, you're whetting our appetites again, aren't you? You must be referring to the great battle a hundred and sixty years ago in the Forbidden Sea. The stories that have come down to us are all distorted. Since you were lucky enough to see it, give us the details."

The old man stroked his beard and sighed. "That battle was earth-shattering. Heaven and earth were torn asunder, the seas reversed their flow, even the Forbidden Sea boiled over. The War Swords swept across the sky, their sword-energy as thick as mountains, shattering the eight wastelands, piercing the heavens, even reaching into the cosmos. Half-ancestors were nearly killed…"

Everyone was captivated by the old man's voice, all listening intently.

Finally, someone who was not yet satisfied said, "Old sir, you've talked for so long but haven't mentioned the names of the fighters. Isn't that tormenting us?"

"Exactly. The legends now are so messed up—there are all kinds of versions about who fought, and no one knows which one is true."

The white-haired old man smiled and shook his head. "I can't say. The people who participated in that battle had terrifying backgrounds. It concerns their dignity. If I told you, I might be found dead in my home tomorrow."

Everyone knew he was being evasive, but they couldn't force him to speak.

"Just like my grandfather—timid as a mouse! He also saw that battle with his own eyes, but he never tells us. He says 'trouble comes from the mouth' and won't let us know."

"Ah, my grandfather was lucky enough to see that battle too, but he also keeps his mouth shut. He says it concerns the dignity of half-ancestors. If I found out and blurted it out, it might bring destruction on our family."

…

Everyone talked at once, full of regret.

Just then, a skeleton wrapped entirely in a cloak, only hollow eye sockets exposed, climbed up to Misty Rain Tower.

Someone immediately muttered, "What's a skeleton doing here? It can't eat or drink tea—what's it coming to the fun for?"

"Hey, skeleton here has money, what's wrong with that? I want to, I feel like it." He shook his cloak, unabashedly took a table for himself, and called out, "Waiter, bring a table of the finest food and wine!"

The waiter rushed over, stammering, "Can… can you eat?"

"If I can't eat, I can watch, can't I?"

The waiter turned to go downstairs, but the mysterious skeleton called him back. "Wait. Also, find me a few pretty girls. I like listening to songs and watching dances."

"$#@!%……" The waiter cursed inwardly. What kind of skeleton is this? Doesn't it think about its own state? And it still has this lecherous heart.

Someone nearby said in a low voice, "I know which skeleton this is."

"It's that ultimate skeleton. Not long ago, he sneaked into Skeleton Island, cheating and swindling, and even brazenly said he was looking for a peerless beauty among the skeleton race to be his wife."

"I'm dizzy. Don't tell me it's that Sha Polang skeleton. I heard he's an outsider. He really made a mess on Skeleton Island. I wonder if he ever found that beautiful skeleton lady."

Far away, Xiao Chen was quite speechless. This Sha Polang really knew how to stir up trouble.

Suddenly, the door to a private room opened, and a burly man strode out, his cold gaze sweeping over the cultivators on the floor. "Keep it down! My elder brother is about to entertain a distinguished guest here."

"Who are you to tell us to be quiet? Misty Rain Tower isn't your property."

The temperature in the room plummeted. The burly man's eyes were as sharp as knives. The cultivator who had just spoken immediately collapsed to the floor.

The upstairs fell silent.

"Bang."

The man turned and closed the door again.

"Who was that? Terrifying."

"That seems to be an expert of the Tiger family—and possibly… that legendary Heavenly King!"

"I heard that a stunningly beautiful woman of the Tiger family is going to marry Wu Ming Heavenly King's son, Wu Xiaoshi. Could it be that today they are entertaining Wu Ming Heavenly King?"

This remark caused an immediate uproar upstairs, though the crowd quickly lowered their voices.

A gathering of Heavenly Kings!

They might get to see a legendary figure. Many were filled with anticipation.

Just then, a distant bell tolled. A majestic figure strolled through the void, his aura of union between heaven and man indescribable.

"It really is the legendary Wu Ming Heavenly King!"

"I never thought I'd see him here—the so-called undefeated Heavenly King!"

…

Everybody discussed excitedly.

"Wu Ming, long time no see. I was just looking for you."

Suddenly, a voice, now on the left, now on the right, rang clearly through Misty Rain Tower, reaching the distant sky.

Wu Ming was instantly startled. He stopped in his tracks and stood in the void, asking, "Who are you?"

"Has it really been only a hundred and fifty years? Have you already forgotten me?"

The voice was very ethereal. None of the people in Misty Rain Tower could tell where it came from.

But what shocked them was this:

The legendary, nearly undefeated Heavenly King Wu Ming—the one with the Undying Imperial Heavenly Bell over his head and the Purple-Gold Heavenly Thunder Hammer in his hand—looked as if he had seen a ghost. Without even turning his head, he fled in panic!