Chapter 163: Truth and Surprise
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation
In the dead of night, a blue mist silently engulfed the surroundings.
The entire city was eerily quiet, devoid of any sound or movement.
Sweat trickled down Tai Ming’s forehead as he ventured deeper into what felt like a ghost town. Apart from him, there wasn’t a single living soul to be found.
The Fire Spring appeared utterly abnormal. Its intense blue hue was so captivating it seemed almost hypnotic, drawing one’s spirit toward it.
It resembled the ghostly will-o’-the-wisps lingering in ancient graveyards, radiating an unsettling blue light that chilled the soul.
Qin Ming’s body tensed, his senses heightened as he stood on full alert.
Where had all the people gone? he wondered, his mind unable to fathom such an occurrence. The oppressive silence blanketed the entire city, amplifying the heavy atmosphere.
Suddenly, he felt a shift in the air. Turning quickly, his sharp eyes caught a shadow moving through the dense mist. The figure approached openly, its footsteps faint yet distinct against the empty street. In just a few blinks, it closed the distance.
The figure stood no taller than 1.5 meters. It was unnaturally thin, wearing a tattered straw cape and old, worn-out sandals. Beneath its straw hat, a pair of dark red eyes glinted with both hunger and reverence as they fixed on the ethereal blue flames of the Fire Spring.
When it finally lifted its face, Qin Ming’s hand instinctively tightened around his blade. The creature’s visage wasn’t human—it was a scarecrow, its face obscured by the same straw it was crafted from.
The scarecrow turned its gaze toward Qin Ming and opened its mouth, emitting a raspy, crackling sound.
“What are you saying? What is this place?” Qin Ming demanded.
“A clueless newcomer?” The red light in the scarecrow’s eye sockets flared as it emitted a wave of mental energy.
Without further warning, the scarecrow lunged forward. Drawing a rusted iron blade from behind its back, it unleashed a deadly slash toward Qin Ming’s neck, its motion swift and precise.
A sudden and ruthless ambush!
Though baffled, Qin Ming quickly reacted. Why had this bizarre creature attacked him out of nowhere? Regardless, since it sought to take his life, he had no choice but to fight back.
With a resolute swing of his White Jade Alloy Blade, he unleashed its radiant light, akin to divine flames roaring into existence. A metallic clang echoed as the scarecrow’s iron blade snapped in two. The luminous energy of Qin Ming’s weapon seared through the air, scorching the scarecrow even before contact.
“Stop! This is a misunderstanding!” the scarecrow cried out in terror, hastily retreating.
But Qin Ming didn’t waver. The scarecrow had struck first, and showing hesitation in battle often spelled disaster. Without hesitation, he swung again, the blade slicing cleanly through the creature’s torso. The scarecrow disintegrated into a flurry of straw.
A sphere of red light erupted from the remains, attempting to flee. However, Qin Ming’s blade struck it mid-flight, shattering it into sparks that scattered like embers before dimming into oblivion.
Qin Ming furrowed his brows, glancing at his White Jade Alloy Blade. Its exceptional properties made it a bane for aberrant creatures like the scarecrow. What sort of strange event had he been dragged into now?
Before he could contemplate further, a faint disturbance in the blue mist drew his attention. A small, ethereal beast floated toward him, riding on a peculiar object. Its form was faint and translucent, not entirely physical. Beneath it was a two-foot-long, fluffy tail shimmering with soft light.
“A weasel spirit riding its own severed tail?” Qin Ming muttered, gripping his blade tightly. Tonight’s encounters were growing increasingly bizarre.
Some in the Beyond referred to certain out-of-body states as “spiritual manifestations,” though this notion was widely debated among scholars of the exotic arts.
For most, such spirits were imperceptible, as if they didn’t exist. But for Qin Ming, these entities were as vivid as any material being.
The weasel spirit studied the scattered straw remains before turning to Qin Ming. Bowing slightly, it addressed him in a polite tone. “This place…”
Qin Ming frowned, choosing silence to prompt the spirit to explain further.
“This place is fraught with peril, yet it offers great fortune to those willing to risk it. Many come here seeking their destinies. However, I have no quarrel with you,” the spirit declared. “You may proceed first.”
Qin Ming nodded as the situation finally began to clarify. With the evidence of his “victory” scattered at his feet, the snake spirit finally seemed willing to engage in a proper conversation. He decided to get straight to the point.
“What exactly is going on here?” Qin Ming asked, kicking aside the remains of the scarecrow.
“This place is tied to divine blessings. It holds a dense concentration of divinity, capable of refining spiritual artifacts and rapidly enhancing their quality. With enough courage, one could even enhance their own divinity. However, such attempts are fraught with danger and risk severe backlash. The domain of gods is terrifying and commands immense reverence,” the snake patiently explained.
It floated to the edge of the Fire Spring, depositing its shed skin into the glowing pool. Almost immediately, the dull skin began to radiate light, its spiritual essence increasing significantly. Satisfied, the snake quickly retrieved it.
“Why don’t you continue?” Qin Ming inquired.
“My old skin cannot carry any more divinity—it’s already reached its limit,” the snake replied.
Despite this limitation, the snake seemed elated. It appeared tempted to leap into the pool itself several times but ultimately restrained itself.
“What about this city? And where are its inhabitants?” Qin Ming pressed.
“This is a divine city. A great being once resided here, striving to ascend to godhood. However, something seems to have gone awry. As for the residents, I have no idea,” the snake said, its tone uncertain. It seemed genuinely puzzled, as if it had never encountered any of the city’s former inhabitants.
Qin Ming’s expression grew heavier as he recalled the dazzling blue light he had seen earlier. Even from a great distance, it had been powerful enough to shatter the clouds. Could it truly be connected to a failed ascension to godhood?
The snake noticed Qin Ming’s troubled look and hastily clarified, “This divine city appeared here abruptly. It seems the great being met with some accident. I’ve never seen its people—if there were any.”
“You mean to say that this city suddenly materialized here?” Qin Ming asked, astonished.
“Exactly!” the snake affirmed, nodding solemnly.
The snake, along with the scarecrow and the weasel spirit, had been the nearest entities imbued with divinity when the city appeared. Their spirits had instinctively emerged to investigate the anomaly.
Qin Ming lightly tapped the ground with his White Jade Alloy Blade, eliciting a crisp, clear sound. The solidity of the stone beneath him felt genuine enough, yet the implications of the snake’s words were unsettling. Could the situation truly be so extraordinary?
“Can my blade be nurtured with divinity?” he asked.
“You tread the Path of Awakening, and your weapon likely hasn’t undergone any significant refinement. The results might not be as impressive,” the snake said diplomatically.
From the snake, Qin Ming learned that the Fire Spring was the heart of the divine city, a remnant of the “great being” who had met their demise. The snake departed soon after, its desires for the spring curtailed. With a flicker in the night, it vanished into the distance.
Qin Ming approached the luminous blue Fire Spring and dipped his White Jade Alloy Blade into it. There seemed to be little change at first. Shortly after, he retrieved a palm-sized piece of cloth he had obtained after defeating a youth capable of vaporizing his form in Black and White Mountain. This fabric, intricately woven with metallic threads, bore cloud patterns, though it was too small to discern its original design. Even his blade had been unable to cut through it.
He placed the fragment into the Fire Spring. The pool erupted with activity, as though a brilliant sun had plunged into its depths, illuminating the surroundings and sending thick blue mist spiraling into the air.
“This… this is incredible! What on earth is this thing?” Qin Ming muttered, awestruck. He had never imagined that a seemingly insignificant scrap of cloth could cause such a commotion.
The divine spectacle lasted only a fleeting moment before the pool returned to its serene state, and the “sun” conjured by the fabric dimmed and extinguished. Yet Qin Ming’s sharp instincts noticed a subtle change—the pool’s vibrant blue hue seemed to be fading, ever so slowly.
Crouching, he retrieved the cloth. It had grown slightly larger, its edges expanding outward. The fabric now emitted a faint, mystical radiance. What once felt lifeless now appeared as if it had been “revived.”
Examining it closely, Qin Ming’s heart surged with shock. The once-dull metallic threads now gleamed with purity. Some were white and flawless, while others shimmered with purple mist, unmistakably crafted from exotic metals.
Taking a sharp breath of the blue mist, he realized this unassuming cloth held significant origins. Its resemblance to the Eight Trigram Furnace—a near-immortal artifact belonging to Li Qingyue—was uncanny, both forged from a blend of exotic metals.
Inspecting the enlarged cloth further, Qin Ming spotted a partially visible sun motif along the edge. He now understood the earlier phenomenon. As the cloth expanded and repaired itself, the residual image of the sun had momentarily burst forth, emitting radiant light.
The sun was woven from golden threads—there was no doubt it was an artifact of divine quality.
Qin Ming studied the pool again, confirming his suspicions. The Fire Spring’s vibrant hue was gradually fading as the cloth continued to absorb its essence. His anticipation grew, his mind racing with possibilities.
Meanwhile, beyond the city, more spirits began to gather, drawn by the divine city’s aura. Their eyes burned with yearning as they approached cautiously.
In the distant Red Glow Domain, an astonishing scene unfolded. Blazing suns filled the sky, illuminating the blackened night.
“A mere worm dares to dream of devouring this city to ascend to godhood? We’ve been waiting for you!” a voice declared coldly from one of the suns, brimming with malice and power. Its overwhelming presence sent tremors through the earth, causing countless creatures to cower.
It became clear that the “great being” mentioned by the snake had not simply failed but had been targeted by powerful hunters intent on their destruction.
The figures within the suns were not corporeal but glowed brilliantly, illuminating the night sky. Among them, an elder with white hair and eyes like twin celestial swords commanded, “Qing Xu, you and your group enter the divine city. The opportunities there are boundless—act quickly!”
“Yes, Master!” Li Qingxu replied.
A high-level aberrant bird unfurled its vast wings, carrying disciples from the Beyond swiftly toward the city. Qin Ming recognized some familiar faces among them.
“Don’t fall behind, disciples of the Secret Sect!” another voice urged from a second blazing sun.
A massive ferocious bird appeared, carrying the Secret Sect’s followers toward the divine city as well.
From a third sun, an elephant’s trumpet and a resounding roar echoed. “Hurry, follow them!” Clearly, even aberrant creatures like the Six-Tusked White Elephant and the Purple Lightning Beast had joined the fray.
What was once a quiet, desolate city had become the stage for a divine struggle, a feast where factions and creatures vied to claim the remnants of a “great being” who had sought godhood but met an untimely end.