218: Chapter 218 Burial Ruins, Ancient Emperor's Tomb

Chapter 218: Zangtian Ruins, Ancient Emperor Tomb. Central Plains, Tiansha Abyss.

In a dark hall, candlelight flickered, casting shadows that made the runes covering the walls dim and brighten.

Deep within the hall, a figure sat cross-legged on a prayer mat, eyes slightly closed, a faint blood mist swirling around his body.

It was Ye Chen.

At this moment, his appearance was extremely wretched.

His dark red robe was shredded, a large portion of his chest was caved in, countless ribs were broken, and dried blood still clung to the corner of his mouth.

His face was as pale as paper, and his aura was weak and unstable. Clearly, he had suffered extremely severe injuries.

"Abyss Master!"

An old voice came from outside the hall, and immediately after, a white-haired elder walked in quickly, his face filled with anxiety.

"You are injured? Who hurt you?"

Ye Chen opened his eyes, a trace of deep wariness flashing in his narrow, dark red eyes.

"The Southern Region."

"The Southern Region?!" The white-haired elder froze, his face filled with disbelief. "How could anyone in a barren place like the Southern Region possibly hurt you, Abyss Master?"

Ye Chen did not answer. He merely raised his hand, and a dark red light emerged from his palm.

The shitian blade.

The cracks on the blade's body were several times more numerous than before, dense and shocking to behold.

The white-haired elder's pupils shrank. "The shitian blade... Who could have damaged it like this?"

Ye Chen remained silent for a moment before speaking slowly, his voice hoarse. "A young man. In his twenties, wearing a green robe, hands tucked into his sleeves, with a lazy demeanor."

He paused, a look of deep fear flashing through his eyes.

"With just two fingers, he caught my shitian blade."

The white-haired elder gasped, completely dumbfounded, freezing on the spot as if struck by lightning.

"Catching an Imperial Weapon with just two fingers?"

"What kind of strength was this?"

"Abyss Master, that person is..."

"I don't know." Ye Chen shook his head, a trace of solemnity flashing in his narrow, dark red eyes. "But his strength far surpasses mine. He is at least a Quasi-Emperor level existence."

"Quasi-Emperor!"

The white-haired elder's face turned deathly pale, cold sweat pouring down his forehead like rain.

In the entire Cangxuan Great World, Quasi-Emperor level experts could be counted on one hand. Every single one of them was an old monster who had lived for tens of thousands of years, possessing heaven-defying capabilities.

How could an existence of this level appear in the Southern Region?

"Abyss Master, what should we do then?" the white-haired elder asked in a trembling voice.

Ye Chen fell silent for a moment, a cold gleam flashing in his eyes.

"Investigate."

He spoke word by word, his voice freezing cold.

"Find out that person's background, investigate what kind of force the Blood Rain Pavilion is, and uncover his relationship with them."

"Yes!" The white-haired elder quickly complied, turning around and walking out of the hall in a hurry.

Ye Chen sat alone in the dark hall, the flickering candlelight casting shifting shadows across his face.

He looked down at the shitian blade in his palm, the cracks on the blade exceptionally glaring under the candlelight.

"Quasi-Emperor..."

He muttered to himself, a trace of unwillingness flashing in his eyes.

He had been trapped at the Peak of the Saint King Realm for a thousand years, unable to take that final step.

He had originally thought that as long as he obtained the Quasi-Emperor corpse from Venerable Chiling's Sacred Tower and comprehended the Great Dao Laws within it, he would be able to break through his shackles and step into the Quasi-Emperor Realm.

But now, everything had been ruined by that young man.

"No matter who you are, this seat will not let you off."

Ye Chen clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white from the force.

"Once I break through to Quasi-Emperor, the first person I kill will be you!"

---

At the extreme west of the Central Plains, the end of the world.

There were no mountains, no rivers, and no living creatures here—only a dead, silent wasteland.

The earth was cracked, completely barren of vegetation, and the air was thick with the scent of decay and ruin.

In the sky, a crescent blood moon hung high, casting an eerie glow that stained the entire land a dark red.

Zangtian Ruins.

One of the most terrifying restricted areas in the Cangxuan Great World.

Legend had it that several ancient Great Emperors were buried here, and countless experts had fallen within, making it a place where even Saints dared not tread lightly.

At this moment, a dark red figure appeared on the wasteland.

Ye Chen stood with his hands behind his back, his dark red robe fluttering slightly in the wind. He gazed into the depths of the wasteland, a trace of wariness flashing in his narrow eyes.

He was already at the Peak of the Saint King Realm, only a single step away from Quasi-Emperor, standing as one of the existences at the absolute Peak of the Cangxuan Great World.

Yet, facing the Zangtian Ruins, he still felt a tremor in his heart.

That aura—ancient, desolate, and decayed—seemed to harbor endless death and destruction.

"How many years has it been since I last came?"

Ye Chen muttered to himself. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward into the wasteland.

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

With every step he took, dark red runes would emerge on the ground beneath his feet. These runes were mysterious and complex, emitting a bizarre and heart-stopping aura.

They seemed like living things, slowly wriggling beneath Ye Chen's feet, as if welcoming his arrival, yet also warning him not to venture any deeper.

Ye Chen's expression remained unchanged. With steady steps, he walked deeper into the wasteland.

Passing through a dead, silent plain and crossing collapsed mountain Peaks, his vision suddenly opened up.

A massive underground palace appeared before him.

The underground palace spanned a full hundred miles, constructed entirely from dark-golden boulders. Its surface was covered in dense runes, emitting an ancient and desolate aura.

At the entrance of the underground palace, two colossal stone statues stood towering.

The statues were about ten zhang tall, clad in armor and holding long halberds. Their faces were majestic, their eyes wide with anger, looking incredibly lifelike.

Even though countless tens of thousands of years had passed, these two stone statues still emitted a heart-stopping aura of slaughter.

Saint King Realm.

And at the Peak of the Saint King Realm!

Ye Chen stopped in his tracks, looking up at the two stone statues, a slight curve forming at the corner of his lips.

"What, you don't recognize this seat anymore?"

Before his voice could fade—

"Crack, crack, crack—"

A tooth-grating sound came from the stone statues.

The two stone statues, which had stood there for countless tens of thousands of years, slowly lowered their heads. Two points of eerie blue light lit up in their hollow eye sockets, falling upon Ye Chen.

After a moment, the light faded.

The stone statues returned to their stillness, as if nothing had happened.

Ye Chen withdrew his gaze and strode into the underground palace.

Deep within the underground palace was a dark hall.

The hall spanned a thousand zhang and was about a hundred zhang high. The ceiling was embedded with unknown glowing crystals, illuminating the entire hall as bright as day.

The hall was empty, save for a massive stone platform right in the center.

The stone platform was octagonal and pitch-black. Its surface was covered with dense, blood-colored runes that were mysterious and complex, with a certain pattern faintly flowing within them, emitting a heart-stopping, bizarre aura.

Atop the stone platform, a stone coffin lay quietly.

The stone coffin was about three zhang long and one zhang wide, made entirely of some unknown black stone. Its surface was as smooth as a mirror, without any patterns, yet it exuded an indescribable eeriness.

Around the stone coffin, space warped slightly, as if an invisible force was surging.

Ye Chen walked up to the stone platform and stopped.

He raised his head to look at the stone coffin, a trace of reverence flashing in his eyes.

"Junior Ye Chen requests an audience with Senior."

His voice echoed in the hall, lingering for a long time.

After a moment—

"Creak—"

The lid of the stone coffin slowly slid open.

A pale hand reached out from the stone coffin.

The hand was skeletal, its skin as pale as paper without a trace of blood. Its fingers were long and thin, with pitch-black nails like ink, emitting a heart-stopping, bizarre aura.

Immediately after, a figure sat up from the stone coffin.

It was an old man.

He had white hair and a withered face, with deep-sunken eyes and high cheekbones. He was so thin he was practically skin and bones, looking just like a dried corpse.

He wore a tattered black robe with dark-golden runes embroidered on the hem, which gleamed faintly under the dim candlelight.

But the most eye-catching feature was his eyes.

Those eyes were a bizarre silvery-white with slit pupils, like some cold-blooded reptile—cold, indifferent, and devoid of any emotion.

Quasi-Emperor!

And at the Peak of the Quasi-Emperor Realm!

An existence only a step away from ascending to the throne of a Great Emperor!

"Ye Chen."

The old man spoke, his voice hoarse, like two rusted iron plates rubbing together.

"Why have you come to the Zangtian Ruins instead of staying properly in the Tiansha Abyss?"

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