Chapter 168: Spectacle
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation
In the stillness of the deep night, Qin Ming found himself involuntarily entering a dense, pitch-black mist. Unease gripped his heart as he walked through the fog, unable to make sense of his surroundings. Objects farther away blurred into obscurity, and he noticed his form appeared humanoid, glowing faintly. In his hands, he still clutched a tattered cloth he had grabbed just before this strange journey.
The cloth, roughly palm-sized and square, seemed insignificant at first glance. As an incorporeal being now, size held no meaning, yet he draped the cloth over himself, which gave him a diminutive stature—just slightly larger than a palm.
It was a surreal experience. His senses were sharpened, but his expression remained grim. There was nothing amusing about finding himself in such a situation in the dead of night.
The fog was suffocatingly thick, the atmosphere oppressive and lifeless. He could only press onward into the unknown. Soon, his feet touched the ground—a dark, black soil that resembled the legendary Nether Earth.
A metallic clinking echoed in the silence.
The sound of chains rattling startled him, and moments later, shackles silently flew toward him, their intent unmistakable.
Qin Ming quickly dodged, his heart racing. From deeper within the fog, two towering figures began to emerge, their enormous forms resembling small mountains.
One was a colossal ox demon, its coarse horns twisted and wrapped with iron chains, while its body was covered in black fur. Its golden eyes glowed fiercely, and thick mist clung to its hooves, which trembled the ground as it approached.
Beside it was an equally enormous horse demon, snow-white with silvery eyes and hooves the size of millstones. Each swing of its tail scattered vast swathes of night fog.
“Defying the emissaries of the underworld, are you?” the ox demon’s voice boomed like thunder, shaking the mist as its mountainous figure loomed closer. The chains on its horns rattled, and black mist rolled from its open mouth like an avalanche. It had been the one trying to bind Qin Ming with the shackles.
“What kind of monsters are you?” Qin Ming retorted, unflinching. He had slain his fair share of ancient demons in the untamed lands, but then he realized he was without a physical body—just a consciousness. How was he supposed to fight like this?
At that moment, he noticed something peculiar. His Celestial Light Force was present, accompanying his consciousness.
Realization dawned on him. The secret technique Li Qing Yue had passed on to him, which he had practiced diligently, created a consciousness aura that was mostly absorbed by his flesh but left behind traces. Similarly, the thin booklet gifted by Meng Xing Hai’s martial uncle had fostered a divine wisdom that lingered even after being absorbed. These fragments of aura and wisdom had followed him into the black mist.
Golden light radiated from Qin Ming’s fist, scattering the oppressive fog around him. Invoking the Silk Script Method, his entire form became entwined in golden radiance, faintly resembling the majestic figures he had glimpsed behind Lu Zi Zai and the Six Rulers Patriarch.
However, his form was far smaller, nowhere near the towering, heaven-piercing giants.
“What are you?” the ox demon rumbled, momentarily startled.
Its chains rattled again, the attached shackles emitting a multicolored glow as they flew toward Qin Ming.
Qin Ming refused to sit idly by. Swinging his arm as if to throw a punch, he deliberately let the tattered cloth on his body flutter. He had already tested this cloth in his physical state and found it extraordinary. Now, he hoped it would work in this strange realm.
With the slightest activation, the cloth emitted a faint light. Instantly, the multicolored shackles shattered into pieces.
The horse demon stomped forward with its massive hooves, but when one of its silver hooves grazed the cloth, it recoiled with a howl. White smoke rose from the hoof, as if it had been burned, and the creature backed away in panic.
“Pure Yang Light? The Flame of the Soul?” the ox demon muttered in shock.
“The shackles don’t bind you. That means you bear no sins,” the horse demon added. “We made a mistake.”
Qin Ming’s gaze turned cold. “Don’t tell me you two are Ox-Head and Horse-Face, and this is the Netherworld.”
“Not exactly, but close enough. There’s been some misunderstanding between us,” the ox demon admitted.
“Pure Yang Light allows access to the Netherworld. We made an error this time. You’re a person of great importance and should head toward the Heavenly Gate,” the horse demon said, pointing in a direction.
Qin Ming narrowed his eyes, sensing their true strength wasn’t overwhelming. Without using the tattered cloth, he activated his Celestial Light Force, which ignited the two demons like dry kindling.
“Not Pure Yang Fire… but why does it feel so similar?” the ox demon cried before both colossal figures dissolved into ash.
Qin Ming surveyed the area. The dispersing fog revealed a high platform in the distance. He approached it cautiously. The platform, though made of multicolored mystical stones, lacked brilliance. Instead, it radiated a quiet simplicity, as though tempered by countless years into its purest form.
Three symbols were etched into its surface, written in an ancient script unfamiliar to him. As he touched the platform with his mind, the symbols resonated with him, their meaning becoming clear: Ascension Platform.
Qin Ming couldn’t help but feel incredulous. “This black mist world really has everything, doesn’t it? They’re even throwing around names like this casually.”
He hesitated to proceed but found that the force guiding him had vanished. Looking back, he saw no familiar landmarks, only an endless expanse of barren Nether Earth.
“Is this what lies in the depths of the black mist behind Lu Zi Zai and the Six Rulers Patriarch?” Qin Ming muttered, perplexed. With no answers in sight, he pressed onward toward the platform.
Though skeptical, he climbed the platform, daring to test its claims. As soon as he stepped onto the multicolored stones, a radiant glow erupted. Hundreds, even thousands, of beams of resplendent light surrounded him, lifting him into the air.
In that moment, Qin Ming realized he was ascending—heading toward an unknown realm.
Melodic music filled the air as the oppressive night dissolved into a pale dawn. Standing atop white clouds, he gazed at a magnificent palace complex in the distance. Behind him, there was no way back.
“Since I’m here, I might as well face whatever comes,” Qin Ming muttered, wrapping himself in the tattered cloth and striding toward the buildings.
The path ahead was wreathed in multicolored mist and ethereal clouds. He soon found himself crossing a vast arching bridge of white jade, which spanned a seemingly insurmountable chasm. Beneath the bridge, a lake or sea shimmered, where golden lotus flowers the size of small mountains bloomed. Beneath the enormous lotus leaves, dragons swam gracefully.
Crossing the jade bridge, Qin Ming arrived at a place that resembled a heavenly palace. Before him stretched an endless expanse of grand buildings made of jade and marble, with golden tiles and sparkling gemstones—a sacred and magnificent sight.
He saw many women in flowing, colorful robes, their graceful forms drifting through the air as if they were celestial beings. Overhead, a golden bird cried out, its radiance spreading across the heavens. The brilliance was akin to a blazing sun, so sacred and majestic that Qin Ming, who had long lived in the shadowy Night Fog World, found himself momentarily entranced, gazing again and again.
“Senior, are you here to attend the banquet?” a purple-robed woman descended gracefully, her beauty striking as she offered a courteous bow.
“Do I look that old?” Qin Ming asked with a smirk.
The woman smiled. “Only those whose consciousness aura has reached the Pure Yang level, unafraid of thunder or fire, can ascend to the Nine Heavens. Such a feat is only achievable by esteemed seniors.”
“What is this place?” Qin Ming inquired.
The woman’s expression turned solemn. “This is a divine kingdom, ruled by my master, the True Martial Demon-Slaying God.”
Qin Ming nodded. “Tell your master to come and see me.”
The purple-robed woman’s face darkened in anger. “Senior, you’re being unreasonable. No matter your status, such a demand is disrespectful. If you wish to attend the banquet, you should show proper respect to our host.”
Qin Ming laughed heartily. “Quite the performance, isn’t it? Putting on such a grand display for someone as insignificant as a mere newly awakened individual like me. The only explanation is that you’re far weaker than you want me to believe. That puts me at ease. Ha!”
The woman glared at him, but at the center of the palace complex, in front of the grandest building, a colossal figure emerged. The towering form grew larger and larger, resembling a mountain as it loomed over Qin Ming.
Other colorfully dressed women floated in the air, watching from a distance. A few guests sitting in resplendent carriages craned their necks to see the commotion.
Qin Ming called out, “I’ve told you, I’m just a small, insignificant newly awakened individual. Putting on such an elaborate show only reveals your weakness.”
The towering figure before the central palace was a middle-aged man wearing a ceremonial crown, its dangling beads swaying as he stared coldly at Qin Ming with an imposing air.
Qin Ming sighed. “I must thank you for this spectacle. Living in the Night Fog World, scenes like this are a mere fantasy—something I could only dream of. But today, you’ve constructed this illusion for me. Even though I’ve seen through it, these beautiful images will linger in my mind for a long time.”
“You’ve seen through it all?” The purple-robed woman’s voice faltered. Her efforts had been in vain, and she had unwittingly provided a feast for his eyes.
“Yes,” Qin Ming replied. Through emotional resonance, he had sensed overwhelming resentment and discerned the falsehood of the scene, constructed by consciousness aura.
“Enough!” he barked, unwilling to waste more time. He feared making a mistake in such a dangerous setting.
“Once, in my eyes, even beings of the Outer Saint Realm were no different from ants crawling on the ground. And yet, look at me now. How pathetic,” the mountainous figure muttered, blue light flickering in his eyes. With those words, the celestial maidens and banquet guests shattered into nothingness.
Qin Ming dared not lower his guard. Even knowing the opponent was weak, he attacked with full force.
Activating the tattered cloth on his body, he summoned the faintly glowing remnant of a sun depicted on the fabric. With a roar, a dazzling golden sun manifested above him, illuminating everything ahead.
In an instant, the heavenly palaces were set ablaze. The grand structures collapsed, and the middle-aged man let out a pained scream, his voice filled with disbelief. “What is that? How do you possess such an object?”
He retreated swiftly, but his weakened state left him incapable of escape. Compared to his prime, his strength now was negligible, as evident by the lengths he had gone to stage this charade with an “ant.”
A thunderous crash resounded. The skies and earth seemed to split as the entire palace complex burned and crumbled. The once-majestic scenery revealed its true state: rubble and ruins, scorched earth, and desolation.
A faint, blue-hued centipede screeched weakly in the distance, thrashing about in rage but powerless to retaliate. It was the remnant spirit of the entity that had once sought to subjugate Red Glow City and its surrounding lands. Tonight, it had attempted revenge against Qin Ming, using a ritual to draw his consciousness into this realm and reclaim its stolen divinity.
However, with the light of the cloth’s remnant sun, the altar shattered, destroying the ritual.
“Damn it all! I was meant to ascend to godhood, yet I was struck down! Now, not even a lowly newly awakened soul can be dealt with. To vanish like this—unjust! Heaven, how cruel you are!” the blue centipede roared in despair.
Once, it had been slain by four powerful masters. This remnant spirit, filled with resentment, had stirred chaos in this unique black fog realm, where its former divine kingdom now lay in ruins.
“You deserved your fate,” Qin Ming said coldly. “To carve your path to godhood, you sought to devour the entire surrounding region, sentencing an entire city to death. If you had ascended, that would’ve been the true injustice.”
The last wisp of blue light exploded and faded into nothingness. Qin Ming searched the ruins but found that everything of value had already been scavenged by the four masters who had destroyed this place.
Near the shattered altar, however, he discovered a golden scale. The centipede had used it to reactivate the broken altar and lure Qin Ming’s consciousness into this realm.
Qin Ming noted that this item had not originally been here; otherwise, it would have been taken by the four masters. The remnant spirit must have retrieved it from elsewhere. He surmised that the centipede had intended to sacrifice him on the altar.
The golden scale bore tiny inscriptions. Qin Ming was overjoyed at the unexpected discovery, certain that the text contained valuable information.
At that moment, he felt a familiar pull, a force guiding him back. He realized he was returning to his physical body. Moments later, he passed through the dense black fog and re-entered his room, merging seamlessly back into his flesh.
The room was quiet as he woke with a start. Sitting upright, Qin Ming wondered if everything he had experienced had been real or just a dream.
Looking down, he saw the golden scale lying on the bed, shining brightly with its intricate inscriptions. It was undeniable proof. Everything had been real.