445: Chapter 445 The Heaven-Knocking Ceremony

A long, long time ago, Immortals truly existed in this world.

Those great Cultivators at the Late Stage of Void Refining who reached the end of their cultivation only needed to undergo a single Tribulation to shed their mortal shells and ascend as Immortals.

The Guiding Light would descend from the Immortal Realm, the Immortal Gates would swing wide, and celestial music would chime in unison.

These events were recorded in black and white within ancient texts; they were absolute truths that could not be faked.

But suddenly, one day, it all vanished.

It didn't disappear slowly; it was as if someone had used a blade to gouge it out from the root.

All news, records, perceptions, and connections regarding the Immortal Realm vanished overnight without a trace.

Those Void Refining Cultivators looked up at the sky; the sky was still there, the clouds were still there, and the sun, moon, and stars remained, but the space above the sky was empty.

They could feel their own Realms and the gate that was supposed to exist, but behind that gate, there was nothing.

At first, everyone thought something had simply gone wrong.

So they began to search, scouring every corner of the Four Great Continents for clues.

Some entered the deep seas to explore ancient ruins, some climbed sheer cliffs to find the inscriptions of ancient sages, and some sat in meditation for a hundred years, using their Divine Sense to search throughout the Void Realm.

But they could find nothing.

The Immortal Realm was as if it had never existed, leaving behind not even a single piece of rubble.

One year, ten years, a hundred years passed.

Despair rose like a tide, drowning the throats of everyone.

Until one person, at the very center of the Four Great Continents—at a precise point that could not be more exact—suddenly sensed a faint, ethereal connection.

That thread of attraction was so thin it seemed it might snap at any moment, yet it was undeniably there.

And so, that person Underwent Tribulation there.

Thunder fell, a crack split the sky, and the Guiding Light reappeared. Though it was much dimmer than in the records, it had returned.

When the news spread, even the most composed and calm individuals fell into a frenzy.

All Void Refining Cultivators who had reached a dead end, whether of the Human Race or the Yao Race, rushed there from all directions.

On that originally empty sea surface, islands rose one after another, eventually forming an archipelago.

They built towns, formations, and Guiding Platforms upon them, naming the archipelago the Heaven-Kowt Platform.

A fire burned in everyone's heart; they firmly believed the Immortal Realm still existed and was merely obscured by something. As long as they ascended from here, everything would return to how it once was.

But things did not go as they wished.

The first batch of those who achieved Ascension did indeed go up.

The Guiding Light fell, their figures vanished into the horizon, thunder rumbled, and auspicious clouds surged—everything was exactly as the ancient texts described.

And then... there was no 'then'.

Every Sect and faction had their own foundations.

Which Sect's ancestors hadn't produced an Immortal?

The Magical Artifacts used to contact the Immortal Realm were old, but they had been enshrined in the deepest parts of ancestral halls, with incense burning for generations.

But after waiting a month, those Magical Artifacts showed no reaction.

They waited half a year, and still nothing.

After waiting a year, someone finally couldn't sit still anymore.

He also chose Ascension, and before departing, he took a Jade Slip used for communication between the two Realms.

After he ascended, the Jade Slip lit up.

Everyone crowded around.

Only one sentence was transmitted back from the Jade Slip.

"The Immortal Realm is no longer the Immortal Realm!"

Returning along with the Jade Slip was a severed finger.

The severed finger tumbled out of the Void Realm and landed on the Guiding Platform with a thud; the blood was still warm.

That finger was translucent white, emitting a faint golden glow, and the patterns on the skin were like natural Dao markings, identical to the Immortal bodies described in ancient texts.

The person was dead, but this severed finger was a genuine Immortal body.

Everyone stared at that finger, silent for a long time.

Their expressions were complex.

There was fear, shock, and grief, but at the very bottom of all these emotions was a sliver of something even they were unwilling to admit.

Greed.

Because that was something belonging to an Immortal.

In this era where the path to immortality was severed and items related to Immortals could not be replenished.

Even just a severed finger was an opportunity to stop slowly dying by consuming one's dwindling heritage.

The fear was real, but the temptation was also real.

The feeling of being trapped in this world was more painful than death.

You know there is a larger sky above your head, you know you should be able to fly up there, but there is an invisible lid pressing down hard, making you like a cicada raised in a jar; your wings are fully grown, yet you can never fly out of that three-foot jar.

Thus, the Heaven-Kowt Assembly was born.

Every hundred years, Void Refining Late Stage Cultivators whose Lifespans were nearing their end would gather. Whether by drawing lots or volunteering, a group of people would be chosen for Ascension.

It was called Ascension, but in truth, it was going to one's death.

They carried Magical Artifacts, Legacy Jade Slips, and everyone's hopes into that crack, and then used their lives to trade back a few things.

Just a little bit was enough.

A severed finger, a fragment of bone, a broken passage of an Immortal Scripture.

These things were called "Immortal Legacies." It sounded nice, but everyone knew it was just feeding on the blood of their own.

Yet no one stopped, because stopping meant accepting their fate—admitting that in this lifetime, they could never reach that heavenly gate.

Two thousand years, fourteen Heaven-Kowt Assemblies, fourteen batches of ascenders.

In the beginning, people from the Imperial Dynasty also participated.

Those emperors and generals who ruled the world had also coveted the power of Immortals and had dispatched their strongest Void Refining Cultivators to the platform for Ascension.

But later, the Imperial Dynasty gave up.

They turned to a different path, creating their own Destiny Dynasty Cultivation Techniques, forcibly carving out a new path in a world where the Immortal path was severed. With an invincible posture, they dominated the Four Great Continents, no longer deigning to beg from the heavens.

The Imperial Dynasty withdrew from the game.

But what they didn't tell the Imperial Dynasty was that on those Immortal remains, some had successfully inscribed complete Immortal Spells.

Word for word, profound and mysterious, they were exactly like the Immortal Spells recorded in ancient texts.

This was something bought with the sacrifices of the Seniors of their own factions; who would give it for free to those who had left the game?

The Imperial Dynasty didn't want it anymore, but others did!

So those who were unwilling to give up on the Immortal path, those trapped at a Bottleneck who could not die in peace, silently guarded the Heaven-Kowt Assembly, silently dividing the remains that fell from the sky every hundred years, and silently practicing those Immortal Spells, becoming stronger and stronger.

But things were becoming increasingly strange.

At the first assembly, the ascenders only sent back a severed finger.

The second time, half a palm.

The third time, a small fragment of bone.

By the fourteenth time, which was not long ago, what fell from the sky was an entire arm.

An entire arm, severed cleanly from the shoulder joint as if cut by some sharp blade in a single stroke.

Inscribed on that arm was a complete Immortal Spell, every word a gem, far more profound than all previous gains.

Everyone fell silent.

From a severed finger to an entire arm—the difference was too great.

Everyone was a Prodigy; there could be gaps between Prodigies, but it was impossible for the gap to be this vast.

The people from the first Ascension and those from the fourteenth might differ in Aptitude, cultivation, or level of preparation, but it could never cause such a massive discrepancy in what was brought back.

What did this mean?

Zhang Mingyuan stopped here.

He picked up the cup of tea that had long since gone cold, drained it in one gulp, and then looked at Zhou Yan opposite him.

His gaze was complex.

There was scrutiny, expectation, and a deeply hidden, almost frenzied stubbornness.

"Old Ancestor, do you know?"

"The Immortal Spell carved on that arm from the fourteenth time is called the 'Thick Earth Harmonizing Pivot Method'."

"It is said to be a top-tier Immortal Spell of the Immortal Realm. We can only understand thirty percent of it. The remaining seventy percent—no matter how we deduce it, it just isn't right."

He paused, his voice dropping lower.

"Furthermore, those who mastered the Immortal Spells all said the same thing before they ascended."

"What did they say?"

"'The thing up there is waiting.'"

He looked straight at Zhou Yan, something burning in his eyes.

"I originally thought about going to the Heaven-Kowt Assembly with you."

"Perhaps it could help you recover your memory, or perhaps we could uncover the truth of what is up there."

"But I later changed my mind."

"You are an Immortal."

"Even if your memory is damaged, you are a hundred times better than those remains and bone fragments."

"Instead of risking death, it is better to wait for you to recover."

"But if there is no progress in the short term..." He fell silent for a moment, "it wouldn't hurt to go take a look."

"Perhaps you might recognize the origins of the things up there, which could help with your recovery."

Zhou Yan sat on the stone stool, his finger lightly rubbing the edge of the teacup, his face expressionless.

What is going on!

Could it be that here too, some Upper Realm powerhouse is feeding on the Prodigies of my race?

That shouldn't be. If it were really that big of a deal, Old Ancestor Yukou wouldn't have failed to tell me.

This means either the impact of this matter is very small, or it has vanished for some reason.

No, regardless of the reason, things are getting more and more chaotic. No wonder they say a major event will occur in a hundred years.

With all these 'buffs' stacked up now, I wouldn't be surprised if a world-shaking event happened at any moment.

"We'll see how things go. If the timing is right, I will go. However, if I am in closed-door cultivation for too long and happen to miss it, then we'll discuss it further."

In the end, Zhou Yan did not give a definite answer, instead politely declining for now.

Who knows what the situation will be after he emerges from cultivation? If this path is still needed, it wouldn't be good to refuse so early.