A Pawn's Passage

Qi Xuansu did not know how long he had been unconscious before he finally began to awaken.

The earlier sensation was like encountering a storm at sea. All he could do was cling desperately to a piece of driftwood and drift with the currents. He was in no position to resist, nor did he know where he was heading. This was the terrifying might of Immortals.

At some point, he could no longer endure it and lost consciousness.

While Qi Xuansu was still hovering between sleep and wakefulness, he heard a multitude of sounds—the howling of the wind, the beating of war drums, the roar of battle cries, the clash of weapons, the murmured chants, the thunderous footsteps of colossal beasts, and the rumbling thunder that shook heaven and earth.

In his dazed state, Qi Xuansu saw a battlefield where countless humans and ancient beasts were locked in brutal combat. Immortals swept across the sky, unleashing heavenly punishment. Bolts of lightning fell like rain, turning everything into charred ruins.

It was an incomparably brutal battlefield. From the direction of the black mountains came four gigantic figures that seemed to connect heaven and earth. Though they had humanoid forms, they bore many beastly traits—some with wings, and some with three heads and six arms. These figures wore simple, ancient robes, and their exposed skin was covered with various totemic patterns.

Surrounding their feet were countless figures painted in various pigments, making all kinds of sounds. Some prayed to these four godlike beings, some brandished their weapons, and others chased the strange beasts they had domesticated.

Daoist priests stood opposite these figures.

These Daoists were vastly different from those of today. Their clothing was simple, with no hechangs or Daoist crowns. Instead, they casually wrapped headscarves around their heads. They held tall banners and stood in formation according to the commands.

If viewed from above, they appeared as various enormous talismans, ultimately forming a grand formation that stretched beyond the horizon.

Then, a star crashed down from the sky, smashing into the ground and causing the earth to shake and mountains to tremble.

A massive crater that resembled a lake appeared in the ground. From it, a Yellow Turban Warrior clad in armor emerged, bearing sharp weapons.

Qi Xuansu had never seen such an enormous Yellow Turban Warrior that was over 100 meters tall. It was as if a deity had descended from the heavens. It strode forward in giant steps, wielding dual whips that swept the flying beasts from the sky.

Though those strange beasts far surpassed ordinary humans in size, they resembled mosquitoes and flies compared to this Yellow Turban Warrior. They were utterly incapable of resisting.

Hundreds and thousands of shattered corpses fell from the sky, blood pouring down like torrential rain. Yet this was only the beginning.

One star after another crashed to the ground, likewise transforming into colossal Yellow Turban Warriors that clashed with the beasts.

The sounds of battle grew ever more intense.

Members of the Wuist Sect and the ancient beasts were continuously crushed into pulp.

At the same time, the Yellow Turban Warriors shattered into fragments and dissolved into scattered points of light.

However, the Daoists’ formations shifted unceasingly.

Besides the gigantic Yellow Turban Warriors, countless human-sized warrior puppets also emerged from thin air.

The murmurs of the Ancient Great Witches never ceased, resonating with a strange and mysterious rhythm.

Under this rhythm, the warriors of the Ancient Wuist Sect fought without fear of death and were oblivious to their wounds. Even when they fell and died, as long as their bodies remained mostly intact, their corpses would rise again and rejoin the battle.

A legendary Ghost-Chariot Bird descended from the heavens, its talons crushing the head of a Yellow Turban warrior.

However, the Daoists immediately operated devices resembling giant crossbows, firing arrows forged from thunder itself. Lightning arrows rained down, piercing the Ghost-Chariot Bird’s wings. With a mournful cry, it spiraled downward and crashed to the ground, where three Yellow Turban Warriors rushed forward to beat the divine bird to death.

This was before the end of the era. Yet the four Ancestral Witches, towering as high as Lingshan itself, had not yet made their move.

Suddenly, they all raised their heads.

The heavy clouds in the sky had somehow taken on a purple hue, then transformed into a vortex, like a gigantic purple eye overlooking the earth, coldly gazing at the four Ancestral Witches.

The auras of the four Ancestral Witches grew solemn and oppressive.

In the next moment, a human face formed entirely of clouds slowly emerged. A pair of 300-meter-long sword lights—one green and one purple—crossed as they descended from the heavens, illuminating the entire world. The sword edge severed heaven and earth.

Qi Xuansu jolted awake.

Everything vanished without a trace, yet the scene from just now lingered in Qi Xuansu’s mind, and the faint echoes still resounded in his ears.

Compared with such earth-shaking power, his past battles now seemed like mere child’s play.

When Qi Xuansu came back to his senses, he saw a land torn apart as far as the eye could see. Not a single blade of grass grew on this scorched earth, with deep ravines crisscrossing the ground.

At this moment, he was lying on a rock that shattered under the alternating extreme cold and scorching flames.

Qi Xuansu looked around, finding himself in the middle of a ruined battlefield. White bones and dismembered corpses were strewn everywhere, broken weapons and magical artifacts littered the ground, and enormous craters were visible in all directions. Besides human skeletons, there were also gigantic beast bones, piled like small mountains.

It was clear that what Qi Xuansu had seen in his dazed state was not a dream but something that had truly happened, proving just how brutal that great battle had been.

At the end of his vision stood a pitch-black mountain towering between heaven and earth, blocking most of the sky. At a glance, its summit could not even be seen.

Around the mountain, countless shattered peaks and massive boulders hung suspended in midair, revolving at an extremely gradual pace, like the specks of dust visible in sunlight.

Farther toward the horizon was a warped and chaotic space.

He could vaguely see countless bolts of lightning stretching between heaven and earth, flickering unpredictably. Even from an immense distance, their terrifying might could be felt.

Qi Xuansu recognized the aura of those lightning bolts as the Five Thunder Celestial Heart Method. However, the cultivation of the one who wielded this thunder technique was so high that it surpassed Qi Xuansu’s comprehension, more so even than a First-Tribulation Immortal.

This was a fragmented and collapsing pocket realm, riddled with holes. It was just vast enough to withstand the erosion and scouring of time, so it was not yet completely destroyed.

That mountain that seemingly reached the heavens was undoubtedly the core of the entire realm. The closer one drew to the pitch-black mountain, the more distorted cracks appeared in space, like a shattered mirror.

Ravines spreading in all directions interwove into a vast net, forming a barrier around the mountain.

This scene felt familiar to Qi Xuansu because he had seen this place more than once in his dreams.

It was none other than the Lingshan Paradise.

After many twists and turns, Qi Xuansu had finally arrived at this legendary place, the sacred land of Ancient Wuism.

However, it also felt unfamiliar because his perspective had changed. In the past, within his dreams, Qi Xuansu stood atop that pitch-black mountain and looked down, seeing the scene below. Now, Qi Xuansu stood below, gazing up at the black mountain.

When Qi Xuansu stood on the summit, he could not truly grasp the immensity of Lingshan. Only when he stood at its foot could he feel his own insignificance.

Without a doubt, the secrets Qi Xuansu sought were hidden in Lingshan.

To Qi Xuansu, Lingshan was all too familiar. He had been there countless times, though he did not know whether there would be a massive bonfire up there or whether Shi Hengbo would appear to guide him.

However, beyond Lingshan, Qi Xuansu was not familiar with anything at all.

Although the pitch-black mountain was visible at a glance, there was still a very long distance to truly reach it.

Moreover, given the harsh conditions of this place, Qi Xuansu dared not fly recklessly, nor open a Yin-Yang Gate. He dared not even sprint at full speed because he was afraid that he might accidentally collide with a spatial rift. If so, he would likely be torn to pieces.

Thus, Qi Xuansu chose the most cautious method and traveled on foot.

Sure enough, before Qi Xuansu had gone far, he discovered an extremely subtle spatial rift, as thin as a thread. It was truly treacherous and insidious because he would have been decapitated or at least severely injured if he had walked through it.

It was no wonder Wu Luo would rather create a new divine kingdom than attempt to return to this collapsing paradise. Who knew when it might completely collapse?

Qi Xuansu stopped, studied it carefully for a moment, and then threw a punch.

The original threadlike rift was like a closed eye. After Qi Xuansu’s punch, a crimson phoenix eye opened in fury.

Qi Xuansu glanced at the position of the pupil, which was a chaotic blur, hiding unknown dangers.

After stepping into the Zaohua stage, Qi Xuansu’s strongest lineage was his Martial Arts Practitioner’s lineage, allowing him to shatter the void in both the mortal world and in a pocket realm. In this paradise that was on the verge of collapse, space was extraordinarily fragile, so Qi Xuansu could not recklessly shatter the void here.

If he were to strike a fragile node, triggering a chain reaction that connected many spatial rifts, this area would completely shatter. Qi Xuansu would be like a person standing on a sheet of cracking, thin ice, falling into the icy lake below.

This forced Qi Xuansu to tread carefully. He skirted around this spatial rift and continued forward.

Along the way, he did not see any Daoist corpses, only the bones and remains of Wuists and savage beasts.

This was only natural. After all, the Daoists had won, led by the Ancestral Heavenly Preceptor. So naturally, they had enough time to clean the battlefield, treat the wounded, and gather the remains of their fallen comrades.

By contrast, the Wuists had suffered total defeat. They could not even escape, let alone collect their dead. Even those who survived would have no one coming to rescue them.

They could only wait to be finished off by the Daoists.

The four towering Ancestral Witches Qi Xuansu had seen had all died, including Wu Luo. However, Wu Luo came back to life once again.