682: Chapter 682 Imperial Decree

And in the very center of the great hall—

Upon the throne, a figure sat as immovable as a mountain.

The Emperor.

No one knew his true name, and no one had ever seen his true face.

From the day he first appeared before the world, his face had always been covered by a golden mask.

This mask bore no patterns and was as smooth as a mirror; only from a specific angle could one see the two characters branded upon it—

"Imperial Decree".

These two characters were not carved with a knife, nor written with a brush; they were branded onto it by the living Law of the Great Dao!

Every stroke contained the will of the Heavenly Dao, radiating a suffocating, supreme majesty!

Those with insufficient cultivation, even if they only cast a single glance, would feel their Divine Soul shattering and their knees weakening, unable to stop themselves from kneeling in submission!

At this moment—

Behind the mask, those bottomless eyes slowly opened.

He did not speak.

He merely raised a single finger slightly.

A point of golden light lit up at his fingertip.

This point of golden light was extremely minute, three parts smaller than a sesame seed, but the moment it lit up—

All the lamps and lights in the entire Lingxiao Palace were instantly eclipsed!

The eternal radiance emitted by those primordial divine woods and extraterrestrial meteoric metals appeared as humble as fireflies encountering the blazing sun before this point of golden light!

The golden light lit up, then immediately extinguished.

The entire process took no more than a single breath.

It was like some kind of response.

Or perhaps, some kind of—tacit approval.

The Emperor placed his finger back on the armrest and closed his eyes once more.

The great hall returned to its eternal tranquility.

But in the final instant before that point of golden light extinguished, if one were to gaze intently, they would discover the direction it pointed toward—

Was the North.

Still Yuyao Pass.

Western Desert · Great Leiyin Temple

This was the Holy Land of Buddhism that least resembled a Buddhist place in the mortal world.

In the Western Desert, yellow sand stretched for ten thousand miles, and the scorching sun was like a furnace.

Looking out, there was nothing but sand, and not even a decent blade of grass could be seen.

Heat waves steamed and rolled across the surface, twisting the distant scenery into a blurry shadow.

Occasionally, a few scorpions and lizards would crawl out from the sand, only to quickly burrow back in, avoiding the vicious sun.

Great Leiyin Temple was located in the most desolate core region of the Western Desert.

There were no walls, no halls, no pilgrims, and no believers.

There was only a withered Bodhi tree and a dilapidated straw hut.

No one knew how many years that withered Bodhi tree had lived; its trunk was thick enough for three people to embrace, but the bark had long since dried and cracked like tortoise shells. There was not a single leaf on the branches, only a few withered twigs stubbornly piercing the sky, as if questioning the heavens for being so heartless.

Beside the withered Bodhi tree was a straw hut.

To call it a straw hut was already giving it too much credit.

It was just a frame propped up by a few crooked wooden sticks, covered with some withered grass and tattered cloth. The wind leaked in from all four sides; it couldn't even shelter one from the wind and rain.

When the wind and sand of the Western Desert blew, the hut would sway, looking as if it would collapse into a pile of rubble at any moment.

Inside the straw hut, a bald monk sat cross-legged.

He was wearing a tattered monk's robe covered in patches. Those patches were colorful—blue, black, hempen—sewn on crookedly; one look told you it wasn't the work of skilled hands.

Only one straw sandal remained on his feet; the other had been lost somewhere. The bare foot was covered in yellow sand, and there was mud between his toes.

In front of him sat a chipped, broken bowl. There wasn't even water in the bowl; only a thin layer of fine yellow sand had accumulated at the bottom.

Wuchan.

The only Ancient Buddha of Great Leiyin Temple in the Western Desert.

And also the Buddha who least resembled a Buddha.

He ate leftovers, wore tattered clothes, and lived in a desert straw hut, looking exactly like a begging vagrant.

If you saw him for the first time, you would absolutely never associate him with the word "Buddha"; you would only think he was a pathetic madman.

Yet, this very same begging monk was an existence that no one in the entire Western Desert, or even the Central Plains, dared to provoke.

Once, a Demonic Sect leader from outside Nanming Province brought three hundred elite Disciples, arriving aggressively to seek revenge, vowing to raze Great Leiyin Temple to the ground.

As a result, before that Sect leader could even reach the withered Bodhi tree, he knelt down with a "thud", weeping bitterly as he repented for the sins of his entire life. He shaved his head and became a monk on the spot, becoming a little novice under Wuchan's seat.

His three hundred Disciples fared even worse—each of them achieved Epiphany on the spot, sitting cross-legged to meditate, and they didn't move an inch for three days and three nights.

From then on, no one dared to come to Great Leiyin Temple to cause trouble again.

At this moment—

Wuchan slowly opened his eyes.

In these eyes, there was no Buddha light, no compassion, no grand vow to save all living beings, only a kind of "Emptiness" after seeing through the Origin of all Laws.

He raised his head and looked toward the North.

"Amitabha."

He murmured a Buddhist chant, his voice hoarse, as if his throat were so dry it was smoking.

Then he scratched his bald head and muttered: "Old Ghost Jiang is planning to retire..."

He smacked his lips, looking helpless: "Tsk, then who will block the demonic wind from the North for me in the future?"

He looked down at his bare foot and sighed: "Forget it, we'll see when the time comes."

After speaking, he closed his eyes again and continued to meditate.

The wind blew, the straw hut swayed, and a few withered grasses drifted onto his bald head.

He remained motionless.

Southern Territory · Xuantian Sect · Wudao Peak

Wudao Peak was the highest mountain of the Xuantian Sect and also the treasure land with the most abundant Spiritual Qi.

The mountaintop was shrouded in mist and clouds all year round, and occasionally, immortal cranes would sweep through the sea of clouds, emitting clear and long cries.

Several ten-thousand-year-old Lingzhi grew by the cliff, each as large as a canopy, emitting a refreshing, faint fragrance.

The precipitous cliffs were covered in insights left by predecessors and sages. These inscriptions remained as clear as yesterday despite the erosion of wind and rain, and every stroke and line contained profound Dao charm.

Patriarch Tian Yuanzi was meditating on Wudao Peak.

He was the Old Ancestor with the highest seniority in the Xuantian Sect today, two generations higher than the Xuantian Old Ancestor.

In terms of age, he had lived for nearly eight thousand years; in terms of cultivation, the four words "unfathomably deep" were not enough to describe him.

It was said that he had touched the threshold of the Heavenly Dao three thousand years ago, but he had never taken that final step.

He usually did not concern himself with worldly affairs, and he couldn't even be bothered to look at the Sect's grand competition.

For the Disciples under him, seeing him was harder than ascending to heaven; unless it was a matter of extreme importance, who would dare to disturb his quiet cultivation?

But at this moment—

He suddenly opened his eyes!

From those murky old eyes, two beams of sharp light suddenly shot out, piercing straight into the Nine Heavens!

The two beams of light pierced through the cloud layer, pierced through the sky, and shot straight beyond the Nine Heavens!

The sea of clouds above Wudao Peak was forcibly torn open by these two gazes, creating a huge gap!

Sunlight poured down from the gap, illuminating the entire mountain peak until it was bright and brilliant!

"Is that the little fellow's decree?!"

"Eh, is that kid there too?!"

He stood up abruptly!

This movement was too fierce and too fast; his Dao robe was buffeted by the strong wind, snapping loudly.

The Aura around his body was like a volcano that had been dormant for ten thousand years erupting all at once. The pressure was like a mountain, like a peak, like an abyss, like a sea; the entire Wudao Peak was trembling slightly!

Loose stones rolled down the peak, the few ten-thousand-year-old Lingzhi were shaken askew by this Aura, and the inscriptions of the predecessors on the cliff walls were also glowing slightly, as if responding to this Old Ancestor's excitement!

"He actually used the Great Dao Decree—"

Patriarch Tian Yuanzi's voice carried obvious shock.

He took a deep breath, trying hard to calm his emotions, but the sharp light in his old eyes could not be withdrawn no matter what!

"He is serious!"

He looked toward the North and remained silent for a long time.

Then, he suddenly laughed.

The laughter was very light, but it was exceptionally clear in the wind.

"Good, good..."

He muttered to himself: "Since you, kid, are so serious, then this old bag of bones of mine cannot just sit idle."

He reached out to brush the dust off his body and loosened his stiff shoulders; his joints made a series of cracking sounds.

"It's time to go out for a walk."

At the same time,

Countless ancient and terrifying Auras awakened simultaneously from every corner of the Human Race's five territories.

Deep in the East Sea Dragon Palace, an old Dragon that had been sleeping for ten thousand years turned over. Its dragon whiskers trembled slightly, and it exhaled two streams of scorching dragon breath from its nostrils, instantly boiling the surrounding seawater.

It lazily opened one vertical pupil, glanced at the North, and then closed it again.

At the bottom of the ten-thousand-foot abyss, a bronze coffin vibrated slightly. Densely packed runes appeared on the coffin lid, flickering with a dim light, as if some kind of ancient text was transmitting information.

A faint sigh came from within the coffin, and then everything returned to silence.

On a floating immortal island, a white-haired old woman was watering flowers.

The watering can in her hand suddenly stopped; she narrowed her eyes and looked toward the North, a meaningful smile appearing at the corner of her mouth.

She put down the watering can, turned around, and walked into the bamboo house behind her, never to come out again.

Deep inside an Ancient Tomb, an eternal lamp suddenly flickered.

A small spark shot up from the lamp wick, and a blurry face was reflected within the spark.

This face looked toward the North, and then silently dissipated.

They were either old monsters of the Human Race, ancient remnants that had never emerged from seclusion, or guardians of some long-forgotten ancient force.

They had been dormant in their respective corners for thousands of years, so long that the world had forgotten of their existence.

But at this moment—

They had all awakened.

They all looked toward the same direction—

The Northern Territory.

Yuyao Pass.

Northern Territory · Above Yuyao Pass

Half-step Earth Immortal Jiang Wuya hovered above the sky.

Golden Spiritual Qi flowed wildly around his body, like a humanoid blazing sun, dyeing the sky for ten thousand miles into a brilliant golden ocean!

The wind stopped.

Those Northern gales that had howled for thousands of years were as obedient as a tame cat before him, not daring to blow even the slightest breeze!

The clouds dispersed.

Those dark clouds, thick as mountains and accumulated over who knows how many years, were like snow melting under the blazing sun before his golden light, dissipating completely in the blink of an eye, revealing the azure sky above that was almost transparent!

Even the raging, ghostly green Yao fire in the distant Yao Race camp suddenly withered before this Aura!

Those Yao fires had originally soared into the sky, illuminating the entire Yao Race camp and emitting a sinister and eerie ghostly light.

But at this moment, they were as if pressed down hard by an invisible giant hand; the flames lowered by more than half, and the color changed from ghostly green to light green, like a candle in the wind, ready to be extinguished at any moment!

In the Yao Race camp, there was a commotion!

The Yao generals rushed out of their tents one after another, looking up at the golden, towering figure in the sky, their expressions filled with shock and uncertainty!

Some Yao Beasts with lower cultivation simply prostrated themselves on the ground, trembling like chaff, not even daring to raise their heads!