234: Chapter 234: The Gate to the Ruins

The two races traded trash talk for a full cup of tea's worth of time.

They cursed everything from each other's Bloodline ancestors to their descendants, and from their cultivation Realms to their appearances and intelligence...

If the Old Ancestors at the Body Integration Stage from both sides hadn't been present to keep order, they probably would have started fighting long ago.

Zhao Wudi had the foulest mouth; he insulted all six great Bloodlines of the Yao Race by himself, even making up stories about the locations of their ancestral graves.

Shi Haokong was so angry that his mane stood on end, flashing with chaotic golden light.

If Clan Leader Shi Tianba hadn't suppressed him with a single look, he would have lunged forward right then and there.

en own source text reference to mythology mythology's sixteen eyes widened like copper bells, and venom gurgled in his throat; he desperately wanted to spit it all over them.

Quae Wangmang opened his giant beak, wanting to swallow Zhao Wudi along with his words.

Lei Qianjun crackled with electricity all over his body, scorching the ground beneath his feet.

Only Feng Qingyin remained silent, merely shaking her wings gently, her multicolored feathers emitting a brilliant glow in the darkness.

Her gaze fell upon the Human Race camp, sweeping past Zhao Wudi, Sword Dust, and Li Qingyun, before finally lingering on Xiao Ran for a brief moment.

A flicker of curiosity flashed in her amber eyes.

Xiao Ran felt that gaze, looked up, and met Feng Qingyin's eyes.

He curled his lips and winked at the multicolored Phoenix.

Feng Qingyin was stunned for a moment, then turned her head away, her feathers glowing even brighter.

Li Changsheng exploded in the Soul Link.

"Xiao Ran! What the hell are you doing? Flirting with the Yao Race?"

Xiao Ran: "I'm just testing if that Phoenix can transform into human form."

Li Changsheng: "... You are sick."

While the two were bickering, the space in the center of the wasteland suddenly twisted violently.

A massive crack appeared in the grey-black sky; the edges of the crack were not smooth but jagged like broken glass.

Every fragment reflected a blinding white light.

Within the white light, projections of mountains and rivers, ruined palaces, the bones of Yao Beasts, and broken weapons were interwoven, flashing by frame by frame like a chaotic, unedited movie.

The crack grew larger and wider, eventually forming a hundred-foot-tall gate of light.

The gate of light was not static; it was breathing.

Each contraction was accompanied by a low rumble, like the heartbeat of an ancient giant beast.

Each expansion saw countless runes peeling off from the door frame, rotating, annihilating, and being reborn in the air.

"The ruins have opened!" someone shouted.

Everyone's gaze focused on that gate of light.

The Human Race gripped their Magic Treasures, while the Yao Race bared their claws and fangs.

City Lord Li Qingge turned around, looking at the one hundred Human Race Prodigies behind him.

His gaze lingered on each person's face for a moment. He didn't say the usual cliches about returning alive, but simply said calmly,

"Go in."

As soon as he finished speaking,

Zhao Wudi was the first to rush out, his black battle armor flashing and vanishing in the light, leaving only one sentence behind.

"City Lord, wait for me to bring you back some local specialties!"

Sword Dust followed closely behind, his white robes like snow, his entire being transforming into a streak of sword light that shot into the gate of light.

Li Qingyun led the eighteen Prodigies from the City Lord's Manor in, entering one after another with neat, orderly steps, without a hint of panic, as if they had rehearsed countless times.

Xiao Ran mingled with the crowd and stepped into the gate of light.

Opposite the gate of light, the Yao Race moved as well.

Shi Haokong roared at the sky, golden Demonic Qi rising into the sky like flames as he charged into the gate of light.

en own source text reference to mythology mythology raised all nine of his heads simultaneously, his sixteen eyes filled with madness, and followed him in.

Feng Qingyin shook her wings gently, her multicolored feathers flashing and vanishing in the light.

Quae Wangmang opened his giant beak, swallowed a mouthful of white light, and charged in as if he had just taken a breath of air.

Lei Qianjun was surrounded by electrical light, transforming into a bolt of lightning that shot into the gate of light.

Chi Hanyuan breathed out a mouthful of cold air, freezing the ground beneath his feet, then flicked his tail and darted inside.

One hundred Humans, one hundred Yao.

Two hundred figures disappeared into the gate of light.

City Lord Li Qingge and Clan Leader Shi Tianba exchanged a glance and simultaneously snorted coldly.

They each turned and led their Elders to retreat to a distance to wait.

The gate of light closed slowly, and the wasteland returned to silence.

Only the deep claw marks and footprints on the ground proved that the two hundred Prodigies had just been there.

...

The moment Xiao Ran stepped into the gate of light, he felt as if he had been stuffed into a tumble dryer.

The world spun, upside down, and his internal organs churned.

The howling wind in his ears was so sharp it felt like someone was scraping bone with a knife, and the white light before his eyes was so blinding he couldn't open them.

"What the hell!"

He wanted to curse, but as soon as he opened his mouth, it was filled with wind, and even his voice was blown away.

He felt his body plummeting at high speed, but he completely lost his sense of direction.

He didn't know which way was up or down.

This state lasted for about three breaths.

Or maybe thirty breaths; in this godforsaken place, the sense of time was completely distorted.

Then, with a bang, he crashed onto a hard surface.

Xiao Ran grimaced as he climbed up, rubbed his sore butt, and looked around.

Before him was a grey, hazy wasteland, completely different from the ruins he had imagined.

There were no green mountains or clear waters, no birds singing or flowers blooming; there was only infinite desolation and deathly silence.

The sky was lead-grey, with no sun, moon, or stars; only a thick layer of clouds pressed down on his head like an inverted coffin.

The air was filled with the mixed scent of rust and blood, making his throat tighten with just one breath.

He looked down at his feet; the ground was dark red, as if it had been soaked in blood countless times.

Stepping on it felt soft, neither like stone nor soil, but rather like stepping on rotting flesh.

He squatted down and touched the ground with his fingers, feeling a sticky sensation on his fingertips, and brought them to his nose to sniff.

This was the smell of Spirit power mixed with flesh and blood, decaying.

"This place... is a bit evil." He stood up and looked into the distance.

In the distance, some vague outlines could be faintly seen. Some looked like peaks, some like buildings, and some like—people?

Xiao Ran narrowed his eyes, pouring Spirit power into his eyes, his gaze piercing through the grey mist to see the scene in the distance clearly.

His pupils constricted sharply.

It was a battlefield.

But it wasn't a battle happening now; it was a projection of that great war from ten thousand years ago.

Countless phantoms wandered the wasteland; there were Human Race Sword Cultivators, holding broken swords and slashing at the air.

There were giant beasts of the Yao Race, opening their bloody maws to tear at the Void Realm.

There were old men with the bearing of immortals, their bodies flowing with incomplete Spell runes.

There were Demon Lords with towering Devilish Qi, brandishing rusty magical weapons.

Their actions repeated endlessly, like ghosts trapped in time, never knowing that the battle had ended ten thousand years ago.

"A projection from ten thousand years ago..." Xiao Ran whispered to himself.

He walked forward a few steps, wanting to see more clearly.

Just then, a phantom suddenly drifted toward him.

It was a Human Race Sword Cultivator, covered in blood, with one arm severed, but the other hand was still gripping a sword tightly.

His eyes were hollow, without pupils, but the tip of the sword was pointed directly at Xiao Ran.

Xiao Ran's hair stood on end, and he quickly retreated, hiding behind a giant rock.

The phantom's sword slashed across the spot where he had just been standing, bringing with it a gust of cold wind.

The cold wind blew against the giant rock, and a deep sword mark instantly appeared on its surface, with stone fragments falling down with a rustle.

Xiao Ran gasped.

This phantom's attack could actually affect reality?

He didn't dare to get closer, so he hugged the edge of the giant rock and carefully bypassed that battlefield.

Xiao Ran walked along the edge of the wasteland for about the time it takes to burn an incense stick; the phantoms on the battlefield gradually thinned out.

But the smell of rust in the air grew stronger and stronger.

He took out the Spirit Treasure Induction Technique from Venerable Powang's Legacy, expanded his Divine Sense, and probed the surroundings.

Very quickly, he discovered an abnormal aura.

In the northeast direction, about three hundred feet away, there was Demonic Qi.

Xiao Ran narrowed his eyes and crept over.

He found a higher mound of earth to lie down on, poked his head out from behind a clump of withered grass, and looked in the direction the Demonic Qi was coming from.

A pitch-black Shadow Leopard was crouching behind a giant rock, its vertical pupils staring at the distant battlefield.

Its figure was agile, its fur like ink, almost blending into the dim light.

Soul Transformation Late Stage.