Shrouding the Heavens

Chapter 321 - The Bell of Purple Mountain

The moment the words Primeval Desolate Sacred Physique left An Miaoyi’s lips, Ye Fan’s heart gave a jolt. He stayed silent, merely listening to the others’ discussion.

“I once heard,” someone said, “that the Primeval Desolate Sacred Physique’s Bitter Sea isn’t lifeless or dim, it’s golden, overflowing with incomparable godpower.”

“I’ve also seen a record in an ancient scripture,” another added. “Their Dao Palace gives birth to no god-spirit, instead, all their Dao power nourishes their own flesh.”

Ye Fan was taken aback. These people were no ordinary cultivators; their knowledge ran deep. Even he hadn’t known such things, he’d once thought his own cultivation path was flawed when his Dao Palace remained empty.

A man in black, Xu Heng, spoke next.

His skin was pale and smooth as jade, his aura sharp yet restrained, like a divine sword hidden in its scabbard.

“Those born with such a constitution, once they reach Grand Completion, their very blood becomes a divine medicine. According to the notes of an Alchemy Sage, it is priceless beyond measure.”

“Would Brother Xu explain in detail? Miaoyi listens with full attention,” An Miaoyi said softly, her long lashes trembling slightly, her bright eyes gleaming with spirit.

Xu Heng was no ordinary man; his grandfather Xu Tianxiong, the Third Warlord of the Northern Region, was said to rival even Supreme Giants such as the Azure Flood Dragon Monarch.

He smiled faintly, his expression cold as carved frost.

“My grandfather once came upon it by chance, inscribed upon a stone wall.”

Xu Tianxiong had great fortune in his lifetime. Over a thousand years ago, he had seen the writings of an Alchemy Sage carved into a sheer cliff face.

“In the ancient days,” Xu Heng continued, “a fully awakened Primeval Desolate Sacred Physique once bestowed half a bowl of his own sacred blood to an alchemist. The blood was refined with herbs into a divine pill. It revived a dying man, and that man later broke through to a higher realm.”

The crowd stirred, many showing astonishment. “Such miraculous power?”

Another voice joined in, a man in golden battle armor, his skin a bronzed wheat hue, his face chiseled and proud. This was Jin Chixiao, successor of the Northern Plains’ Imperial Gold Bloodline, a peer of the Grand Xia prince, and no less formidable.

“It’s true,” Jin Chixiao said. “I, too, have seen records. In the distant past, a Grand Completion Primeval Desolate Sacred Physique used his own blood to save countless mortally wounded comrades. It is written that ten drops of his blood could revive the dead and restore flesh to bone.”

“The world before the Desolate Era was in turmoil?” An Miaoyi asked, her gaze flowing toward him.

“Indeed,” Jin Chixiao replied. “Demons and fiends ran rampant across the world, but they were finally subdued by the Primeval Desolate Sacred Physique and the ancient Grand Emperors.”

A man in purple laughed coldly. His bearing was regal, his eyes deep as the stars, Yao Yuekong, heir of the Godfiend Palace.

“Fiends running rampant? I’d say it was the primordial spirits of heaven and earth who had not yet perished. They roamed freely then.”

“Yao Yuekong, what do you mean by that?” Jin Chixiao snapped, his sword-like brows lifting sharply.

“I might ask you the same,” Yuekong said, his purple robes fluttering, voice calm but filled with pressure. Though he remained seated, his aura was overwhelming.

The Godfiend Palace was a force that had endured since antiquity, producing countless Demon Monarchs throughout the ages, even the Azure Flood Dragon Monarch was said to have come from their ranks.

“I spoke nothing but truth,” Jin Chixiao said evenly. He didn’t back down, the Imperial Gold Bloodline’s heritage was no less ancient.

Though their clan now stood in the Northern Plains, they were rumored to have originated from the Eastern Wilderness, perhaps even descendants of primordial spirits, carrying traces of primordial Golden Blood.

In the North, their prestige rivaled that of the Grand Xia royal line in the Middle Continent, immovable, supreme. Naturally, they stood as equals to the Godfiend Palace.

“Hmph,” Yao Yuekong snorted. “When those ancient creatures stirred chaos, the ancient emperors suppressed them. Some families fled north in those days, away from the Eastern Wilderness.”

The two had fought before and bore grudges; now, every word was edged with hostility. It wouldn’t take much for another battle to erupt.

Ye Fan listened quietly, astonished. He hadn’t expected the Imperial Gold Bloodline and the Godfiend Palace to share such ancient, mysterious origins.

“Yao Yuekong,” Jin Chixiao said coldly, “we of the Imperial Gold Bloodline are human. Do not slander us.”

“Some primordial beings,” Yuekong replied with a faint smile, “stirred storms in bygone days, and now call themselves a royal human bloodline.”

Their words carried venom, but neither truly wished to make a scene. Soon, they quieted, neither wanted to give the crowd a show.

An Miaoyi lifted a jade flask, filling two cups with wine. With a graceful flick of her wrist, the cups floated through the air to land before Jin Chixiao and Yao Yuekong.

“Miaoyi toasts the two young masters,” she said with a smile. “Let there be no contention between you. Please, drink.”

Though tension still lingered, both men lifted their cups. In a setting like this, it would be rude to refuse. They drank.

Someone nearby spoke up, “Brother Yuekong, the Godfiend Palace has endured since time immemorial. During the Desolate Era, it’s said your kind fought fierce battles against the Primeval Desolate Sacred Physiques. How much truth is there to that?”

Yao Yuekong’s black hair flowed as he replied calmly, “We did battle the humans, but that was ages ago. Today, peace reigns. Old grudges have long faded into history.”

“Forgive me, Brother Yuekong,” the man said quickly, bowing. None dared offend someone from the Godfiend Palace.

An Miaoyi smiled, her bright eyes rippling like moonlight. “Brother Yuekong, please don’t mind. Miaoyi herself is curious about the Primeval Desolate Sacred Physique. We only wish to learn.”

Ye Fan frowned slightly. Why was she so interested in that? Was it simple curiosity, or something deeper?

“The Primeval Desolate Sacred Physique,” Yao Yuekong said, his tone turning solemn, “was invincible. That was the judgment of my ancestors.”

“In the Desolate Era, when demonkind flourished, the Godfiend Palace stood unrivaled, the world itself trembled beneath their rule. Yet when they fought the Primeval Desolate Sacred Physique, blood flowed like rivers, and countless demon lords fell. Our race nearly perished.” He paused. “The Primeval Desolate Sacred Physique restrains all phenomena, no domain, no law, no technique can bind him. In battle, he moves as if through an infinite void.”

A murmur swept through the room. Most present were Saints, young geniuses of great sects, many of whom had cultivated ancient celestial phenomena allowing them to fight across realms. But against such a foe, all their advantages would vanish. It was a chilling thought.

Ye Fan sat uneasily, silent. Their words seemed to peel away his secrets layer by layer. He did not like it.

Yao Yuekong said no more. Instead, he looked toward Xiang Yifei and Primordial Beginning’s Saint.

“Didn’t some of the sacred lands once try to cultivate a Primeval Desolate Sacred Physique?”

Everyone turned to those two.

“Yes, I’ve heard rumors,” someone said. “But never the details.”

An Miaoyi personally poured wine for the two men.

“Brother Xiang,” she asked sweetly, “could you enlighten us?”

Xiang Yifei nodded. “That was tens of thousands of years ago. It ended in failure.”

The Grand Ascension Sacred Ground had discovered a Primeval Desolate Sacred Physique by chance. They spent a million kilos of source to help him reach the fifth stage of the Dao Palace realm.

“But it was a bottomless pit,” Xiang said. “Even if we had ten million kilos of source, we’d have crippled our foundation. Many elders believed that even if he reached the Four Pillars realm, further advancement would bring unimaginable difficulty.”

“What became of that Primeval Desolate Sacred Physique?” someone asked. The question hung heavy, it was what everyone wanted to know.

Xiang Yifei said nothing.

Xu Heng answered for him, his tone cold. “I heard he met a miserable end.”

Xiang Yifei sighed. “In truth, the Sacred Ground could have provided ten million kilos of source, but when all hope seemed lost, they gave up.”

Another man said, “These days, the sacred lands mine countless source veins in the Northern Region. Spending such wealth again wouldn’t be a burden.”

Primordial Beginning’s Saint shook his head. “No one will risk it. If the Primeval Desolate Sacred Physique meets another bottleneck beyond the Four Pillars, the cost will be ruin.”

Blackwater, ever bold, laughed. “But isn’t there a Primeval Desolate Sacred Physique alive today? Perhaps the sacred lands should consider raising him, an invincible champion!”

The room fell silent. Everyone thought it, what a terrible idea. Not only did Ye Fan have deep grudges with the Sacred Grounds, but he wasn’t one of their own disciples. That alone made it impossible.

Ye Fan finally spoke.

“Fairy An, why this fascination with the Primeval Desolate Sacred Physique?”

An Miaoyi’s smile was calm. “Miaoyi seeks the Dao. I wish to understand its source. In the notes of a senior, I read that the Primeval Desolate Sacred Physique is innately close to the Grand Dao, so I wish to learn.”

The Grand Xia prince laughed. “The Primeval Desolate Sacred Physique once shook the world. I, for one, look forward to seeing him break the curse and step into the Four Pillars!”

An Miaoyi suddenly rose, her graceful figure like moonlight made flesh. She approached a jade table and lifted a small bronze cauldron.

“Honored guests,” she said softly, “Miaoyi invites you to examine this object, and tell me what you see.”

It was ancient, covered in green patina, engraved with patterns of fish, birds, and beasts. Its divine aura was faint, the Dao Runes broken and incomplete.

Everyone’s expression changed. An Miaoyi would not bring out something ordinary. It seemed clear now, this gathering had been arranged for this very purpose.

One by one, the guests examined it, but none could discern anything special.

Then Ye Fan took it in hand, and his heart gave a violent leap.

On its surface, he saw a mark he recognized, a ghostly face. It was the brand of that ruthless being.

Jiang Yifei, calm and poised as ever, said nothing, until the cauldron reached his hands. Then his expression finally shifted.

“Where did Fairy An obtain this?” he asked.

“You truly live up to your family’s legacy, Brother Jiang,” An Miaoyi said with a knowing smile. “You recognize its meaning, do you not?”

Jiang Yifei nodded slowly. “It bears the mark of a Grand Emperor.”

Yao Yuekong’s eyes narrowed, he, too, was shaken.

“The mark of a Grand Emperor…”

An Miaoyi inclined her head. “You all hail from the greatest lineages of the Eastern Wilderness. Miaoyi admires your insight.”

Jiang Yifei looked at her steadily. “So you mean to say this cauldron can lead us to that half of a Paragon Artifact?”

An Miaoyi nodded. “Yes, but to obtain it, the God-King Physique, the Primeval Desolate Sacred Physique, and the Heaven-Demon Physique must all appear together.”

BOOM!

A deep bell tolled through the heavens.

Everyone froze, the sound was vast, reverberating through heaven and earth. Their bodies trembled as the shockwave passed.

“What was that!?” someone cried.

At that instant, the entire Celestial City was shaken. The bell’s voice was like the clash of great bronze and iron, ringing across the sky.

Jiang Yifei’s face suddenly changed. “Someone is crossing the void, entering the Celestial City directly! On the Desolate Dao Altar! But… only sacred lords can do that!”

“What’s happening!?” Panic spread among the young elites.

Throughout the Celestial City, cultivators poured into the streets, gazing skyward. No one could remain calm.

Ye Fan’s heart pounded. He recognized that sound, he would never forget it for as long as he lived.

It was the bell of Purple Mountain.

A Sacred Lord had crossed the void, and the shockwaves of that bell had reached even here.

“What’s happening in Purple Mountain…?” Ye Fan thought grimly. “Have the Sacred Lords fled here, to the Celestial City itself?”