Purple Mountain. The bell’s toll was long and drawn out, reaching across the ages, splitting the divine void, shaking the past and present, resounding across the great earth.
The moment the bell sounded, the world trembled in submission!
No one knew how many people had turned to stone, nor how many powerful cultivators shuddered, as the entire Northern Territory fell silent in an instant — only the roar of the bell’s shockwaves remained.
It was like a ray of primordial divine light, splitting the boundless earth apart, making all living beings quake to their very souls, its pressure aura crushing down upon the nine heavens and ten earths.
After years of quiet, the Wushi Bell rang again, as if it would collapse the eternal heavens, and every cultivator trembled from the depths of their soul.
At this moment, countless people fell to their knees, bowing toward Purple Mountain, showing sincere reverence and worship.
Many human race cultivators had tears in their eyes, kowtowing with devotion, paying homage as if to a deity, their entire bodies trembling.
“The dark chaos approaches, and the Wushi Bell’s shockwave will decide the fate of the world!”
Many people murmured this almost superstitiously, bowing again and again toward Purple Mountain, all kneeling on the ground, unwilling to rise.
The most glorious era of the human race belonged to the age when the last human Great Emperor of the Ancient Wilderness, Wushi, was born. He suppressed the eight wildernesses and six directions, swept across the lands beyond the domains, and shook the eternal starry heavens — reaching the very peak of prosperity.
Whatever forbidden zone stirred, whatever supreme existence rose, whatever immortal being dared to appear — all were suppressed and slain without exception, without a shred of doubt.
His emergence pushed the glory of the human race to its absolute pinnacle; the nine heavens and ten earths all submitted before him.
But it seemed this had exhausted the fortune of the human race as well. Since Wushi’s passing, the race had declined. Never again did a Great Emperor arise; the world’s vital energy shifted drastically, and the laws of the Dao played out anew.
Over these hundred thousand-plus years, the human race had grown weaker with each generation. By the present era, even Sages had become nearly impossible to find — nothing could compare to that former age.
“Dong…”
The long, deep toll of the bell rang on without end, echoing through the heavens and across the earth. Every human cultivator who heard the bell’s shockwave again was overcome with emotion.
Could Great Emperor Wushi still be alive? This was the first thought of many human cultivators, their blood surging with excitement.
The thought of Great Emperor Wushi reappearing to suppress the myriad ancient races made people’s blood boil just imagining it; they couldn’t resist the urge to roar to the heavens.
The human race seethed with excitement, but the myriad ancient races of the primeval era fell utterly silent. On this day, all of them were struck with dread; many slumbering ancestral kings were awakened, and fell into silence.
The human race’s Great Emperor was like the primeval Sovereigns — unrivaled across heaven and earth. When the Wushi Bell’s shockwave rang out, no one failed to feel fear; all were filled with inner unease.
Ancient Sovereign Mountain was the sacred ground in the hearts of the myriad ancient races, a place of pilgrimage, for the deity in their hearts — the Undying Celestial Sovereign — had once made his home there. Yet in later ages, it had been seized by Great Emperor Wushi, filling every ancient living being with fury and fear. What manner of audacity did it take to do such a thing?
“It’s been over a hundred thousand years — could he still be alive?” one ancestral king of the primeval era muttered to himself.
The bell’s toll continued without pause, causing their expressions to shift again and again — this was a very ill omen. Could the ancient Great Emperor truly not be dead?
None were more anxious than the Divine Spirit Valley. This felt like a heavy blow, like a slap across the face, struck solidly.
Not long ago, they had still been arrogant, looking down upon the world, declaring that unless the ancient Great Emperor was reborn, they would trample the Southern Ridge Barbarian tribes flat and exterminate the entire Ye clan. Yet the moment they finished speaking, the Wushi Bell rang.
Was this coincidence, or a warning? Every single person in Divine Spirit Valley froze in place; the bell tolling at this exact juncture filled them with unspeakable dread.
How could they still march to war now? All the warships that had risen into the sky descended at once. A few waves of the bell’s shockwave were enough to halt their campaign.
Divine Spirit Valley’s forces were utterly humiliated. This mobilization, once so grand, had fizzled out entirely; they themselves felt they had lost all face, yet dared not act rashly.
Everything had to wait. If it truly was a human Great Emperor reviving within Ancient Sovereign Mountain, then not just them, but even all the great clans joined together would be of no use!
An incomparable, overwhelming might! This was Great Emperor Wushi — even after so many years of passing, the moment his bell tolled, it instantly silenced heaven and earth, and everyone fell quiet.
No one dared resist! All the primeval races who were about to emerge into the world all obediently stayed put, lying low in their lairs in the Northern Territory, not daring to take any further action.
Everyone waited, quietly anticipating a definite outcome.
Within Ancient Sovereign Mountain, Ye Fan had faced off for a full day and night against a terrifying being covered head to toe in red fur, and only then had he finally struck the Wushi Bell.
The bell’s shockwave rolled on without end. In the outer regions, entire stretches of withered corpses turned to powder, scattering like ash on the wind — nothing spectacular to look at, yet utterly terrifying.
What manner of beings were these? The subordinates of the Undying Celestial Sovereign! Each one could have rivaled a Sacred Carapace, yet under the Wushi Bell they were nothing at all.
Their annihilation was silent, without a sound. The bell’s shockwave swept through the entire mountain’s interior, sparing no corner — boundless in its terror.
If word of this spread to the outside world, it would surely send even the ancestral kings into shock. Such a scene inspired dread; the Great Emperor’s divine might was beyond measure.
However, the being covered in red fur retreated at the first opportunity, leading the strongest group of dried corpses deep into Purple Mountain, gathering before a crystal coffin.
Then, eighty-one black great banners rose up, snapping and cracking in the wind, encircling the area and shielding those within.
These were the strongest ancient treasures of a group of fierce ghosts, personally forged and refined by the Undying Celestial Sovereign of that era. All eighty-one banners combined possessed the supreme might of an ancient sovereign.
Though the years had been merciless and too much time had passed, leaving the banners incomplete, they had nevertheless been forged by an ancient sovereign, and still retained an undying divine nature, wreathed in dark light that blocked the sound waves.
“Crack!”
The eighty-one great banners let out a cracking sound, fine cracks appearing across their surfaces — left too long, they would surely shatter.
They did indeed bear ancient sovereign markings, but they were not forged from immortal materials such as phoenix-blood vermilion gold or the mother-essence of all things — they could not withstand the imperial might unleashed by the Wushi Bell.
Wave after wave of the bell’s shockwave, fine patterns spreading like ripples in all directions, destroying everything in their path.
“Aaah…” A desolate, mournful cry rang out from within the great banners, filled with unbearable agony, crying out: “I am Zhang Lin!”
With one final resounding toll, the bell’s shockwave vanished. Within Purple Mountain, calm gradually returned — so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
Down a secluded little path came the sound of footsteps, tap, tap. A figure walked forward, utterly forlorn, arriving at the most open space within Purple Mountain.
At this moment, Ye Fan’s face was pale. Long after the bell’s shockwave had ceased, he finally calmed himself, gazing at the approaching figure, and uttered two words: “Ancestor.”
Every inch of Zhang Lin’s body was covered in thick red fur, more than half a foot long, ferocious and terrifying, like a demon. Yet at this moment, his eyes had grown calm, no longer sinister or filled with malice — only endless sorrow remained.
“I don’t have much time. The Wushi Bell’s shockwave is deafening, but it can only grant me a moment of clarity.” His voice was desolate, filled with helpless emotion and a sense of forlornness.
The Fifth-Generation Origin Celestial Master had vanished over ten thousand years ago, transformed into an unknown red-furred monster. Today, he had finally awakened.
Ye Fan’s feelings were complicated, meeting the ancestor of the Origin Celestial Master lineage in such a state — half demon, half man, no trace remaining of his former peerless brilliance.
Back when they were at Stone Fort, Fifth Uncle Zhang had once spoken of everything concerning their ancestors — that in his later years, the Origin Celestial Master had experienced all manner of ill omens, extremely terrifying in nature.
In the end, on the very night he left, a red-furred whirlwind had risen outside, and some unknown, terrifying creature had howled without stopping, screaming through the entire night.
“What exactly happened?” Ye Fan asked. Time was short, and he wanted to understand clearly the ill omens of the Origin Celestial Master’s later years.
“That night, I saw the Origin Celestial Masters of the generations before me.” Zhang Lin spoke calmly as he arrived, sitting on a boulder outside the plaza, as if sinking into a distant memory.
“The Origin Celestial Masters of previous generations — those were people from tens of thousands of years ago. How could they still remain in this world?” Endless questions filled Ye Fan’s mind.
He remembered clearly that the Fourth-Generation Origin Celestial Master had exhausted his mental strength, scheming for many years, hiding within the Primordial Forbidden Zone, taking refuge in a place where things reverse at their extreme — yet in the end he still could not avoid that calamity, and ill omens befell him in his later years.
“That night, the terrifying red-furred whirlwind was massive, howling like a wailing ghost. Outside the window, several figures covered in terrifying fur moved about, shrieking mournfully. Though I had never seen them before, I knew — those were several of our ancestors.”
A chill ran through Ye Fan’s entire body. What kind of power could keep people from tens of thousands of years ago persisting until now, transformed into such monsters?
“In my later years I gained the power to commune with the underworld, and I witnessed all manner of bizarre things — such as the underworld’s army borrowing passage…”
Thousands upon thousands of underworld soldiers and spectral horses emerged from beneath the earth, borrowing the path of the living world, charging toward an unknown destination ahead, while ancient Sages made way for them, waiting quietly for them to pass.
Zhang Lin had witnessed many terrifying things, incomprehensibly strange. In his later years, his body and mind were beyond his own control; he had gone to the Divine Ruins, and to the Immortal Mausoleum — the more such places he saw, the more terrifying it became.
“Muddled and confused — a full ten thousand years, and I don’t even know what I did during that time…” In the end, Zhang Lin sighed deeply. The fate of the Origin Celestial Master could not be changed — half demon, half man, with no memory of the past.
That night, as he listened to the shrieking outside his window, red fur first sprouted on his arms, and then quickly spread across his entire body, and he lost all consciousness from that point on.
“What of the other ancestors?” Ye Fan asked.
“After that night, I never saw them again,” Zhang Lin said.
Ye Fan felt a chill run through him. The ill omens that befell the Origin Celestial Master in his later years — he had actually been called away by ancestors from tens of thousands of years past. It was eerily similar to how ghosts call out to summon a soul, drawing away the elderly.
“Why would such a thing happen to us?” Ye Fan asked.
“Heaven and earth intermingle, giving birth to origin essence. Our lineage has cut open too many extraordinary stones, plundered too many secrets of heaven’s design, dug up too many mysteries — it was fated from the unseen realm long ago.” Zhang Lin, his body covered in red fur, looking utterly terrifying, let out a sigh, and said: “Let me ask you — have you ever cut open an unformed sacred spirit? Have you ever dug open a prehistoric truth that was sealed away? Have you ever encountered an extraordinary stone you dared not cut? Have you ever dug open the underworld’s yin realm… Every generation of Origin Celestial Masters has experienced such things many times over. The ill omens of their later years were fated long ago.”
Ye Fan was stunned, then said: “I only want to know what exactly that is.”
“It cannot be explained, cannot be put into words. I only hope you never have such a later life — some suffering cannot be endured.” The Fifth-Generation Origin Celestial Master’s ancestor spoke earnestly.
“Too late. I already cut open a Nine-Aperture Stone Man long ago, and now I’m not too far from the realm of an Origin Celestial Master myself. The Divine Ruins, the Immortal Mausoleum, the Primordial Ancient Mine — I want to see them all. It’s unavoidable now.”
“I hope you never encounter the Origin Celestial Masters of the previous generations.” Zhang Lin could only let out such a sigh.
The two fell silent. In the end, it was Zhang Lin who broke the quiet, saying: “Why have you come into Purple Mountain?”
“The myriad ancient races of the primeval era are emerging. The dark chaos is coming. I wanted to delay that day, to let the Wushi Bell’s shockwave strike fear into the world,” Ye Fan answered honestly.
“The dark chaos has come again?” the Fifth-Generation Origin Celestial Master murmured to himself, then raised his head. His red fur shook across his entire body, and a cold glint flashed in his eyes as he said: “Then let me put my remaining strength to use. The Origin Celestial Master lineage — I will guard the Northern Territory together with you.”
“Just the two of us…” Ye Fan was astonished.
Zhang Lin spoke calmly: “There’s also a group of death gods. Though once they step out of Purple Mountain they have only one night of life, and will scatter with the wind into dust of history the instant dawn breaks — that will be enough.”