363: Chapter 363 The Ancient Altar Sighs, Calling for Qingping; A Single Sword Severs the Logic Vine

"Why the sigh? You've been playing dead under the mud for so long. Now that a little brat's blood has awakened you, why don't you turn around and tell me what unspeakable dirty secrets are buried down here?"

Zhou Wannian's teasing voice, carrying a hint of laziness yet conveying absolute control, echoed leisurely across this deep valley plain filled with metal and Death Qi.

His hands remained casually clasped behind his back.

His faded azure robe flapped in the immortal and demonic Qi currents emanating from the Ancient Altar.

On the altar, the blurry phantom that had just condensed seemed to pause slightly at Zhou Wannian's impolite words.

However.

Before the phantom could turn around and speak.

This metal plain, which had been briefly awed by the altar's immense pressure, once again plunged into a frenzied riot!

"Click-clack-clack... creak..."

An extremely grating sound of twisting metal abruptly emanated from a pile of mechanical wreckage hundreds of feet away.

It was a teeth-grinding friction sound, as if countless rusty iron saws were haphazardly cutting through thick steel plates.

Zhou Wannian tilted his head slightly, his profound gaze penetrating the lingering gray mist on the plain.

The grayish-white metal demonic vine, which had been forcefully flung away by the altar's erupting power.

Was not dead.

Or rather, for a monster forcibly cobbled together from pure "logic code" and scrap metal, as long as its core devouring instruction wasn't destroyed, it wouldn't stop functioning.

On the shattered dark silver metal ground, a large number of gears, glazed pipes, and sharp jagged fragments were scattered.

At this moment.

These scattered parts, as if strongly attracted by some invisible magnetic field, were frantically converging towards the demonic vine's severed trunk.

Blue electrical sparks flickered wildly between the metal fractures, emitting crackling sounds.

In the air, the scorched smell of rusty iron being burned by intense fire, mixed with the pungent odor of ozone, grew even stronger.

"Warning. Encountered irresistible energy impact. Body damage: forty-seven percent."

"Executing emergency repair protocol."

"Logic reorganization. Target priority re-calculation."

A cold, mechanical voice, devoid of any emotional fluctuation and entirely synthesized by electric current, emanated from the writhing metal wreckage.

This voice held no anger, no fear, only absolute, rigid execution.

In just three breaths of time.

The metal demonic vine had, with the surrounding scrap metal, forcibly reassembled itself into an even larger, more grotesque body!

Its originally water-vat-thick trunk had now expanded by a full fold, its surface covered with chaotic sharp steel thorns and energy circuits glowing with a faint blue light.

At the tip of the vine, the abyssal maw composed of countless blades became even more hideous.

Deep within the maw, a high-density gray code light sphere was frantically rotating.

"Beep—"

"High-dimensional energy source (altar) interference is strong. Judgment: Temporarily unable to devour."

"Relocking target."

"Locking target two: Mortal Physical Body, contains same source code fragments. Priority: Highest."

"Executing absolute obliteration and devouring command."

As the mechanical voice fell, the metal demonic vine's massive body suddenly pushed off the ground.

"Boom!"

The hard, dark silver metal ground was forcibly pressed into a huge deep pit by it.

Using this terrifying recoil.

The demonic vine transformed into a grayish-white lightning bolt of death, tearing through the air, bringing with it a suffocating black gale, and shot straight towards the Stone by the altar's edge!

This attack was more violent, more relentless than before.

Its mid-trunk split open, and a thousand metal tentacles covered in barbs, like an overwhelming steel spiderweb, completely blocked all possible escape routes for Stone!

The wind pressure was like a knife.

It instantly dried the mud-streaked blood on Stone's face.

The youth clutched the bone-deep wound on his right arm, collapsing in despair onto the cold, moss-covered stone steps of the altar.

Crimson blood continued to drip.

His clear eyes reflected the overwhelming steel tentacles, and his pupils contracted violently.

Too fast.

And too terrifying.

The gray stream of data in his mind, though frantically flashing and attempting to calculate a way out, still yielded only two cold words: certain death.

How could a Mortal's Physical Body possibly contend with such a mechanical killing monster that defied natural Laws?

"Big brother... help..."

Stone let out a hoarse cry of lament, instinctively curling up and closing his eyes.

However.

In this one-in-ten-thousandth of a second between life and death.

Zhou Wannian, standing beside him, merely let out a soft sigh.

That sigh was filled with deep helplessness and annoyance.

"This broken machine's stubbornness is truly sickening."

Zhou Wannian's tone was calm, as if complaining about an unshakeable fly.

"I said I wanted to quietly listen to a story, but you just had to make such a ruckus. Do you really think that just because you're covered in iron, you can run rampant in this world?"

Facing the overwhelming metal tentacles and violent gale that were about to crush them.

Zhou Wannian did not retreat.

He didn't even consider circulating the Great Perfection Five Elements Law within his inner universe.

Using the power of his inner universe to crush this trash pieced together from defective code?

That would be an insult to his identity as a Creation True God.

Using a cannon to kill a mosquito is not only wasteful but also extremely lacking in aesthetic appeal.

Zhou Wannian's gaze swept casually around.

Soon.

His sight fell upon a crevice at the lower edge of the altar.

There, a dried branch, dead from who knew what era, was wedged.

The branch was about three feet long, entirely shriveled and grayish-brown, its bark long peeled off, and even stained with a few spots of dried mud.

It was just an ordinary, common, withered branch that no woodcutter would bother to pick up if it were thrown by the roadside.

Zhou Wannian took calm, unhurried steps.

Facing the gale strong enough to tear a Foundation Establishment Stage Cultivator to shreds.

He walked unhurriedly to the crevice.

His slender, pale fingers gently reached out.

And grasped the withered branch.

"Clink."

He casually pulled the branch from the crevice.

His movements were as gentle as taking a dusty old book from a bookshelf.

He held it in his hand, casually weighing it twice.

It was very light.

The wood was very brittle.

It seemed as if it would snap in two with just a little force.

"You'll do."

Zhou Wannian's lips curved into a relaxed, faint smile as he murmured to himself.

At this moment.

The grayish-white metal demonic vine was already less than ten zhang away from them!

The giant maw, composed of countless blades, had opened to its extreme, and the frantically spinning gray code light sphere within it emitted a cold chill capable of severing the Soul.

A thousand metal tentacles, like the chains of death, had already reached three feet in front of Zhou Wannian in the Void Realm.

Stone, with his eyes closed, trembled violently, awaiting the agony of being torn apart.

But.

The anticipated sharp pain did not come.

He only heard an extremely crisp, extremely faint sound of something cutting through the air.

"Swish."

Zhou Wannian stood before the altar's stone steps.

His right hand held the mud-stained withered branch.

He did not assume any profound sword art stance.

Nor did he activate any fierce Sword Qi.

He simply, plainly.

And calmly.

Swung the three-foot-long withered branch in his hand, from bottom to top, with extreme casualness.

This swing.

Was extremely slow.

There were no flashy light and shadow effects, nor did it trigger any resonance of Heaven and Earth Spiritual Qi.

It was like a common farmer in the fields, casually pushing aside a clump of weeds blocking his path with a branch in his hand.

But this.

Was a sword.

This was the most essential, most pure—"Sword Dao Law"—stripped of all complex Moves and all True Qi enhancements!

The meaning of a sword lies not in its sharpness, nor in its material.

But in "severing."

As long as there is the intent to sever all things in one's heart, even if one holds a tender blade of grass, or this gentle breeze, or this bright moon, all can become a sword!

Zhou Wannian's upward swing of the withered branch.

Did not directly clash with the hard metal tentacles.

Instead.

With extreme precision.

It smoothly cut into the "logic code connection points" that were invisible to the naked eye, running between the tentacles and even inside the massive demonic vine's trunk!

An unbelievable scene of absolute dimensionality reduction crushing.

Exploded silently before this magnificent Ancient Altar.

When that fragile withered branch.

Gently sliced through the violent metal tide.

Time.

Seemed to freeze in this space.

The metal demonic vine, surging forward with world-destroying momentum.

Its immensely massive body.

Its thousand frantically twisting metal tentacles.

Suddenly, without warning, halted in mid-air!

"Beep—"

"Fatal error!"

"Underlying logic chain suffered conceptual severance!"

"Physical structure cannot be maintained..."

"System... collapsing..."

An extremely brief electronic synthesized voice, filled with endless Chaos, emanated from within the demonic vine.

Immediately after.

There was no deafening explosion.

Nor dazzling flames.

The metal demonic vine, as thick as a water vat and dozens of zhang long.

Starting from its head made of blades.

A straight, invisible "severance line" instantly spread along its trunk to its tail.

"Crack."

An extremely faint crisp sound.

This was the sound of the most core gear inside the demonic vine breaking.

This crisp sound was like the first domino falling.

The next instant.

"Clatter-clatter-clatter-clatter—"

A series of teeth-grinding metal disintegration sounds exploded densely.

That terrifying monster, originally indestructible.

In mid-air.

Completely, utterly, fell apart!

Yes, fell apart.

It wasn't split in half, but every metal part, every data cable, every gear that constituted its body.

After losing the forced binding of its underlying logic code.

Instantly reverted to their original state as "scrap metal."

Millions of metal fragments, like a torrential downpour, poured down from mid-air!

"Bang! Clang! Crash!"

Deafening sounds of metal hitting the ground echoed frantically on the dark silver ground in front of the altar.

In the blink of an eye.

[part:gemini-3.0-flash]

That menacing Metallic Demon Vine transformed into a mountain of scrap iron several zhang high, piling up lifelessly beneath Zhou Wannian's feet.

Not a single sound remained.

A cloud of dust, thick with the scent of rust and machine oil, rose from the mountain of scrap iron.

Zhou Wannian remained in the same casual standing posture, holding the withered branch in one hand.

A gentle breeze brushed past.

His pale, washed-out green robe rippled slightly, untouched by even a speck of dust.

He lowered his head and glanced at the withered wooden branch in his hand, which was completely unscathed, without even a scratch on its bark.

A satisfied, faint smile curled at the corners of his mouth.

“The toughness of this wood isn't bad; it should be quite handy to use as a fire poker.”

Zhou Wannian spoke in a steady tone, casually tossing the withered branch aside.

With a 'clack,' the withered branch landed lightly on the very top of the scrap iron mountain.

One strike.

Using a withered tree branch.

He had annihilated the Logic Demon Vine that had fused with the residues of Truth Code.

This supreme sword Dao, which turned the mundane into the miraculous and returned to simplicity...

Was enough to make those Sword Cultivators in the Qingping Realm who called themselves sword Grandmasters slit their own throats in shame.

The crisis was averted.

The suffocating, violent wind pressure in the surroundings also dissipated.

Shitou, hiding on the stone steps, hadn't felt pain for a long time.

He opened his eyes with extreme caution, his eyelashes trembling.

What entered his sight...

Was not that terrifying giant mouth of blades.

But only the tall, relaxed back of that big brother in the green robe.

And the massive mountain of scrap iron at the big brother's feet, emitting a pungent odor.

“This... this...”

Shitou stared blankly with his mouth open, making meaningless sounds in his throat.

He was completely dumbfounded.

His extremely limited Mortal cognition simply could not comprehend what had just happened.

The big brother just took a broken branch from the ground, gave it a casual wave, and that terrifying monster turned into a pile of junk?

Was this a magic trick?

Shitou stared blankly at Zhou Wannian, the awe in his eyes intensifying to an unsurpassable degree.

Just then.

The Ancient Altar behind them finally completed its awakening.

“Buzz—”

The brilliant pillar of light that shot into the sky began to slowly recede.

The originally blinding immortal light and Devilish Qi gradually intertwined and fused, forming an extremely soft yet infinitely ancient Nine-Colored Halo that enveloped the highest point of the altar.

The temperature in the air first dropped sharply, as if falling into an ice cellar, then quickly rose again, like being in the warm sun of a spring day.

An incredibly ancient scent, a mixture of burning sandalwood and old paper, permeated the air.

That blurry phantom that had been facing away from them, looking up at the sky...

At this moment...

Finally...

Slowly turned around.

The moment the front of this phantom was revealed...

The surrounding space seemed unable to withstand his ancient Aura, emitting extremely subtle distortions.

It was a Daoist who looked incredibly old.

He wore an extremely primitive, wide linen Daoist robe of a style that did not belong to any era of the Qingping Realm.

The robe was covered in complex, profound Primordial Formation Patterns.

Some of these patterns were incomplete, while others still emitted a faint glow.

The old Daoist's face was like a piece of dried rock weathered for hundreds of millions of years, covered in deep furrows and the vicissitudes of time.

He had no beard.

Only a few sparse hairs remained of his eyebrows.

But...

The most eye-catching feature was his eyes.

Those were not the eyes of a human.

In those deep-set sockets, there were no pupils or whites.

Only two slowly rotating miniature galaxies that were heading toward extinction and death!

His gaze carried the birth and destruction of a world.

It carried endless exhaustion and an irreconcilable sorrow.

The phantom of the old Daoist stood on the high platform of the altar.

His eyes, containing dying galaxies, first landed on the massive mountain of scrap iron below the altar.

Then he looked at the withered wooden branch casually thrown on top of the iron pile.

A trace of intense shock and disbelief flashed through his galaxy-deep eyes.

“The Great Dao is simple... returning to simplicity...”

The old Daoist's voice was extremely hoarse, like two pieces of dry bark rubbing together.

But this voice didn't need to travel through the air; it boomed directly within the minds of Zhou Wannian and Shitou.

“A single piece of withered wood, severing the logical closed loop of absolute truth...”

The old Daoist's phantom trembled slightly, his gaze locking firmly onto Zhou Wannian standing before the stone steps.

“This Fellow Daoist.”

“Your sword Dao has already transcended the fences of this Universe's Laws. Your absolutely independent internal circulation Aura is something this old man has never seen in his life.”

“May I ask, just who are you? Could you be from the land beyond the void?”

The old Daoist's tone carried the equality of a peer, along with deep awe and curiosity.

Zhou Wannian casually kept his hands behind his back.

Meeting the old Daoist's gaze that seemed able to see through time, his face was as calm as water.

A nonchalant, faint smile hung on his clear and handsome face.

“I wouldn't call myself sacred.”

Zhou Wannian's tone was steady, carrying a natural laziness.

“Just an idle person with nothing better to do, taking a walk everywhere.”

“I saw some dirty things in your yard just now, so I casually used a stick to poke at them.”

He slightly raised his chin, looking at the phantom on the altar.

“Since you've turned around, shouldn't you explain the workings of this place to a guest who has come from afar?”

The old Daoist listened to Zhou Wannian's blunt, even slightly mocking words.

A very bitter smile appeared on his face, which looked like dried bark.

“An idle person taking a walk... Heh, perhaps only a player who has truly transcended the chessboard can have such composure to ignore everything.”

The old Daoist did not continue to press about Zhou Wannian's identity.

Because he knew that if such an existence was unwilling to say, he had no right to ask.

He slowly shifted his gaze.

Moving his eyes away from Zhou Wannian.

They landed on the grey-clothed boy, Shitou, who was slumped on the stone steps, clutching his bleeding arm with a face full of daze.

When the old Daoist's gaze touched the blood flowing from Shitou's wound and the bloodstains that dyed the bluestone of the altar...

The two dying galaxies in his eye sockets suddenly erupted with unprecedented brilliant light!

In that light, there was undisguised wild joy, as well as endless heartache and sorrow.

The old Daoist's phantom suddenly drifted a step forward.

The immortal and devilish energy surrounding him churned violently.

“This Aura...”

“This resonance of Karma...”

The old Daoist's voice began to tremble violently.

His illusory right hand slowly reached out toward Shitou, as if he wanted to stroke the boy's cheek, yet feared it was only a dream.

“My Bloodline...”

The old Daoist muttered to himself, his voice carrying a sob that spanned a million years.

“After a million years, after countless eras of purging and suppression...”

“The kindling... has truly not been extinguished...”

“You actually found your way back here...”

Shitou was completely bewildered by the old Daoist's sudden actions and words.

He forgot the pain in his arm and stared blankly at this old grandpa floating in mid-air with stars in his eyes.

“Old... Old Immortal...”

Shitou spoke stutteringly, his voice trembling.

“Are... are you talking to me?”

“Bloodline? What Bloodline? My dad was a herb gatherer, my mom was a weaver, and I... I'm a beggar...”

“Could you have the wrong person?”

For a Mortal boy who had grown up struggling at the bottom of Chunyu City and suffered all kinds of bullying...

To have an incredibly powerful ancient ghost suddenly pop out and point at him, saying "this is my Bloodline"...

This kind of thing was more absurd than believing it would rain gold ingots from the sky tomorrow.

The old Daoist looked at the boy's bewildered appearance, and the sorrow in his eyes deepened.

He slowly shook his head.

“I cannot be mistaken.”

“Flowing within you is the most primitive and noble Sky-Opening blood of this world.”

The old Daoist straightened his hunched back.

A vast, boundless majesty, as if he were the Dominator of this world, radiated from his illusory body.

He looked at Shitou and said word by word.

“This old man's Daoist name is Qingpingzi.”

“This world you live in is called the Qingping Realm.”

“And I am the one who split the Chaos and established the Earth, Water, Fire, and Wind of this Qingping Realm—the Sky-Opener!”

“You are my only direct descendant left in this world!”

The moment these words were spoken...

Not only was Shitou's mind blown blank by the shock...

Even the breeze flowing in the surrounding air seemed to freeze.

The Sky-Opener!

The Creator of the Qingping Realm!

This was a taboo existence that only existed in the oldest and most mythical records of the cultivation world, which even the Sect Masters of top Sects dared not discuss lightly.

He was actually Shitou's ancestor?

Shitou was completely stunned, his mouth wide open, unable to make a single sound.

However...

In this extremely solemn and Soul-stirring scene of family recognition...

An ill-timed, nonchalant chuckle rang out.

“Heh.”

Zhou Wannian had his arms crossed over his chest.

A very distinct look of mockery hung on his clear, easygoing face.

He looked at the awe-inspiring Sky-Opener, Qingpingzi, on the altar.

His tone was steady, like a sharp scalpel, directly cutting through this heavy and touching atmosphere.

He asked faintly.

“Qingpingzi, the Sky-Opener of the Qingping Realm.”

“The title is quite resounding.”

“Since you are the owner of this house and the Creator of this world.”

Zhou Wannian leaned forward slightly, his deep eyes looking directly into Qingpingzi's eyes.

“Then tell me.”

“Why has a high and mighty Sky-Opener like you ended up with a decayed Physical Body and only a wisp of a remnant Soul?”

“Buried in the basement of your own yard like a stray dog.”

“Even...”

He pointed to the nearby mountain of scrap iron.

“Even having to let that pile of metallic junk crap and piss all over your head?”