Chapter 121 The Master is Coming Back

"Since speaking more leads to more mistakes, and doing more also leads to more mistakes..."

"Then I might as well do nothing at all. Surely even if I just stay at home and breathe, they can't pin the blame for all the heavens and myriad worlds on me, right?"

He thought to himself, his breathing leveling out. He turned around and looked at the vice-general who had been keeping his head lowered behind him.

"Han Zhen."

Han Zhen looked up abruptly.

He was wearing heavy silver-white armor, his expression sharp and fierce.

He was the God Lord Realm general who had been unable to stand by and watch Pojun deny it the other day in the main hall, and had spoken out in indignation.

"This subordinate is here!"

Han Zhen knelt on one knee.

"The waters of the Original Realm are deeper than I thought."

Pojun looked at him, "The Dragon Clan lost Ao Lie, and that debt was pinned on me. But I personally went to investigate, and there is the Bloodline aura of the Nine-Tailed White Fox Clan there."

Han Zhen looked up abruptly, "You mean... there are still secrets in the Original Realm?"

"That is exactly what I want to know." Pojun took a deep breath, "Those bastards in the Demon God Domain never do anything without profit. They went to such great lengths to go to the Original Realm, claiming it was to welcome back their Bloodline, but who knows what else they are after?"

Pojun stepped forward and patted Han Zhen on the shoulder.

"I cannot get away right now; those old fogies have their eyes fixed entirely on me. You go to the Original Realm in my stead and investigate in secret. No matter what the Yao Race is looking for, we cannot let them take it easily. I am not at ease."

Han Zhen did not accept the order, his face showing difficulty.

He gritted his teeth and said in a low voice, "Divine Commander... I am afraid this subordinate cannot go."

"Hmm?"

Pojun furrowed his brows, "What? Are you afraid?"

"This subordinate would die for you!" Han Zhen hurriedly cupped his hands, "It is not that this subordinate is afraid of battle. It is just that half an hour ago, the Divine Court's Council of Elders bypassed the Divine Commander's Mansion and issued a decree directly. They... seem to have reached some agreement with the Demon God Domain."

"The Council of Elders strictly ordered that no one belonging to the Divine Court may interfere with the Nine-Tailed White Fox Clan's refining of the Original Realm for any reason. Violators will be treated as traitors to the race!"

"Ha..." Pojun was stunned for a moment.

"What a Council of Elders! What a 'consideration for the big picture'!"

He laughed out of anger, "What kind of place is the Original Realm? It is an ancient battlefield where the Demon God Emperor once fought, a Realm that can carry a Divine Treasury! They just give it up like that? What is inside their heads?"

Han Zhen knelt on the ground, not daring to make a sound.

After venting, Pojun snorted coldly, "If the Council of Elders won't let you act, then you listen to them. But I want you to guard the Star Domain outside the Original Realm and keep an eye on it for me! Probe their intentions!"

"Divine Commander, if the Nine-Tailed White Fox Clan really goes to refine it, the lineup they send will certainly not be weak..." Han Zhen hesitated slightly.

"You do not need to worry." Pojun interrupted him, "That old Divine Venerable of the Nine-Tailed White Fox Clan, whose Lifespan is nearly exhausted, has been in closed-door cultivation for tens of millions of years to delay the Five Decays of Heaven and Man. They will at most send a few God Lords."

Pojun raised his right index finger. A ball of dark red light compressed crazily.

"Furthermore..." The dark red light fell into Han Zhen's Sea of Consciousness.

"Pfft!" Han Zhen groaned, veins popping all over his body, holding himself up on the ground with all his might so he wouldn't be pressed down by that power.

"On you now is a strand of my Martial Dao will."

Pojun's eyes were indifferent, "Unless a Divine Venerable appears, who is your match? If anyone truly blind enough dares to touch you, this will of mine is enough to drag them down to the grave with you."

"This subordinate... obeys!"

Han Zhen panted heavily, feeling the power within his body, a fanatical light igniting in his eyes.

"Divine Commander, besides the Yao Race, news has also come from the battlefield of the myriad races. I heard that the Dragon Clan has lost two great generals in a row, and all the major groups are beginning to stir, seemingly wanting to go to the Original Realm to get a share of the pie. Regarding this matter, should we..."

Pojun raised his hand and waved it impatiently. "Enough. I am tired."

Pojun turned around, his back to Han Zhen, and strode towards the depths of the mansion.

"I am physically and mentally exhausted and intend to go into closed-door cultivation. You announce to the outside that..."

"Just say that since returning from the Original Realm, I have carelessly caught a cold. From today on, I am sealing the Divine Mansion and entering closed-door cultivation to ward off the cold. I will see no one and handle no affairs. As for the reasons if those old men ask..."

Han Zhen was stunned. He looked at the commander who had once punched a Star Domain to pieces, his mind unable to process this.

"Divine Commander... you, you are a dignified Peak Divine Venerable Realm expert... and you caught a cold?"

The corners of Han Zhen's mouth twitched, feeling that this excuse was far too perfunctory.

A Physical Body at the Divine Venerable Realm, catching a cold? How could such a term from the Mortal world come out of a Divine Commander's mouth?

Pojun stopped. He raised his hand with a serious expression and pointed to the layer of unmelted snow on his shoulder armor.

"You don't understand." Pojun said with a straight face, "This is a half-step God Emperor-level cold triggered by the Dragon Ancestor's rage when he descended across realms. It is no small matter. I am now feeling lightheaded and must immediately enter closed-door cultivation."

"..." Han Zhen opened his mouth and began to cough violently.

He had ten thousand questions in his heart, but looking at Pojun's resolute back, he could only swallow all his words and kowtow heavily. "This subordinate, obeys!"

Meanwhile. At the core of the Divine Court, inside the main hall.

At this moment, the main hall was extremely quiet. The Old Hall Master of Xuantian Hall was carefully holding a jade bottle.

There was only one drop of blood in the jade bottle. This blood was dark gold, flowing slowly at the bottom of the bottle as if it had a life of its own. With every pulsation, Laws rippled out.

"Everyone." The Old Palace Master looked up, scanned the dozens of Elders sitting on both sides, and smiled slightly.

"The Nine-Tailed White Fox Clan still plays by the rules. They have fulfilled their promise and sent this drop of Ancestor essence blood."

The Old Palace Master raised the jade bottle, "Since they have shown sincerity, our Divine Court must naturally have the bearing of a great clan. We must not interfere with the Yao Race's refining of the Original Realm under any pretext."

The Red-robed Elder sitting on the left nodded. "The Old Palace Master is wise."

The Red-robed Elder sighed, "The Imperial Teacher has been stuck at the Peak of the God King Realm for countless epochs. This drop of Yao Race Ancestor essence blood contains a trace of Origin power that transcends the God King Realm. If it can help the Imperial Teacher take another step forward..."

The Red-robed Elder did not finish his sentence, but the unspoken meaning already made the breathing of all the Elders grow heavy.

"You mean..."

"That's right." The Old Palace Master retracted the jade bottle into his sleeve, his eyes shining with a bright light, "A half-step God Emperor!"

A chorus of gasps sounded all around.

"In that case, it is not a loss."

"That's right, it's just a mere abandoned Original Realm, what does it matter if we give it to them? If the Imperial Teacher can use this to reach the half-step God Emperor realm, the status of our Human Race among the myriad races will be unshakable!"

"The Yao Race is still too young; to bring out such a foundation for a Bloodline that we don't even know can be nurtured or not. We have made a huge profit on this deal!"

The Elders nodded and stroked their beards one after another, the pride of having everything under control overflowing on their faces.

In their view, this was a worthwhile transaction. As for the billions of living beings in the Original Realm who might be reduced to ashes because the Realm was being refined? They were mere ants; being able to contribute to the Imperial Teacher's Breakthrough was their honor.

"However..." While everyone was immersed in joy, the Red-robed Elder suddenly frowned.

"It is rumored that the situation at the battlefield of the myriad races is tense, and various forces are gathering manpower and rushing to the Original Realm. The Dragon Clan has sealed the Divine Domain, but the other great clans have not been idle. By then, the Original Realm will likely be very lively. Are we really just going to watch?"

The Old Palace Master shook his head and took a sip of spiritual tea.

"A bunch of juniors at the God Lord and Immortal Emperor Realms squabbling in the mud is not worth worrying about. Let them fight, the more brutal the fight, the better. The more foundation the myriad races consume, the more advantageous it is for our Human Race."

The Old Palace Master put down the teacup, remembered something, frowned, and swept his gaze toward the Elder responsible for intelligence below.

"By the way, that thief who dared to refine and steal the heaven-reaching tower when it opened some time ago... has he still not been found?"

As soon as these words were spoken, the atmosphere in the hall instantly turned cold.

The intelligence Elder stood up tremblingly and stammered, "Replying... replying to the Old Palace Master. This subordinate is incompetent. That thief seems to have disappeared into thin air, cutting off all lines of Karma. It seems... there is not a single clue."

"Even..." The Elder swallowed a mouthful of saliva, "We don't even know if that thief is male or female, or what his name is."

"Trash!" The Old Palace Master slammed the table, tea splashing everywhere.

"The heaven-reaching tower is a supreme divine object; how could it be refined by someone without a sound! Can you not find even a single trace? Strange... could it be that some hidden God Kings among the myriad races acted in secret?"

"Impossible!" The Red-robed Elder immediately denied it, "Her Majesty the Empress's divine object has Her Majesty's supreme mark on it; who would dare to easily erase and refine it? Not to mention that the existence of God King-level beings among the myriad races is no more than the number of fingers on two hands!"

The Red-robed Elder counted on his fingers, his expression certain. "The Demon Race has two Demon Emperors who have always kept each other in check; the Dragon Clan, counting that half-dead Ancestor, only has one half-step God Emperor; that old fogey of the Yao Race cannot come out at all." "And our Human Race... apart from the Imperial Teacher..."

When the Human Race's top combat power was mentioned, the Red-robed Elder's voice came to an abrupt halt.

The expressions of all the Elders changed simultaneously.

Dozens of eyes scanned each other uneasily; no one dared to speak first.

In the end, it was the Old Palace Master who broke the deathly silence with a voice filled with extreme dread.

"Are you referring to... that Mr. Gu?"

In the eyes of all the Elders, a reverence originating from the depths of their Souls began to sprout.

The Old Palace Master shivered.

A long-sealed memory, yet one that felt like a nightmare, suddenly surged up from the depths of his mind.

He remembered it very clearly; that was a long time ago. Her Majesty the Empress had personally brought a young man back to the Divine Court.

The young man had no trace of spiritual power fluctuations on him, looking like a Mortal scholar who had wandered into the wrong place.

Behind him hung a sword of nothingness.

The Void Realm twisted behind him, outlining the sharp contour of the sword.

Every step that "Mortal" took, the Divine Court's void beneath his feet would let out a mournful cry, and then collapse like glazed glass.

The defensive arrays that the Divine Court had spent countless epochs laying out were, before him, not even as good as paper.

Even now, the Old Palace Master still feels a chill down his spine when recalling that young man's back.

"Gulp." Inside the great hall, someone swallowed heavily.

"It... it couldn't possibly be him, could it?"

An Elder wiped away cold sweat and forced a smile, saying, "That gentleman... as far as I know, he hasn't stepped out of his courtyard for a million years..."

"That's right, what kind of status does that gentleman hold? Why would he go snatching something like the heaven-reaching tower?"

"Forget it..." The Old Palace Master took a deep breath, forcibly dispelling the terrifying images in his mind.

He cast a stern glance at everyone present. "Regarding that gentleman, if Her Majesty does not mention him, we are absolutely forbidden to ask! This is the iron Law of the Divine Court. If anyone dares to step over the line, do not blame this old man for being ruthless!"

Everyone was silent as cicadas in winter, nodding repeatedly.

After a moment of silence, the Red-robed Elder coughed twice, bringing the topic back.

"Old Palace Master, in the Original Realm, all races have arrived, and the situation is intricate and complex. Even if the Nine-Tailed White Fox Clan has the Ancestor's blood essence to pave the way, it will likely not be easy for them to successfully refine the realm while surrounded by a pack of wolves. If a major disturbance erupts and spreads to us..."

The Old Palace Master waved his hand. "That is their own Yao Race business. We have already received the blood essence and given our promise. There is no need to ask about the rest. If they cannot even handle a group of juniors, then they are incompetent."

Although he said that, a trace of gloom flashed in the Old Palace Master's eyes. He turned his head, looked toward a void outside the great hall obscured by clouds and mist, and ordered in a deep voice.

"Pass down the order: have the Immortal Realm Law Enforcement Hall send more spies to keep a close watch on the Original Realm. Once things get too rowdy there and exceed control, report back immediately!"

"Yes!"

Meanwhile, in the Original Realm.

The once number one great sect of the Eastern Province, the Qingyun Mountain Range that stretched for one hundred thousand li, had now become a ruin amidst the aftermath of the powerful beings.

Countless abysses crisscrossed the land. The once glorious Qingyun Sect was left with only half a broken mountain gate, standing crookedly on the edge of the ruins.

The plaque of the mountain gate had only a charred character "Qing" left, barely hanging on a broken stone pillar.

Ye Wentian wore a tattered Sect Master robe, standing at the very front of the mountain gate ruins, holding a notched longsword with both hands.

He looked up at the gray firmament. Behind him, a few Qingyun Sect Disciples huddled together, shivering, their eyes filled with fear.

"Sect... Sect Master..." The youngest Disciple pointed trembling at the sky, "The... the sky has cracked again..."

Ye Wentian did not turn back. How could he not see it? It was not just one crack.

Above the firmament, the spatial cracks that the realm had barely managed to heal were now crazily bursting open. The black space spread in all directions along the cracks.

It was as if some existence, vast beyond imagination, was using brute force to squeeze this world from outside the realm.

"Hum—" A low humming sound came from the extremely distant void. It was pressure.

Ye Wentian felt as if one hundred thousand great mountains had instantly pressed down on his shoulders; his knees went weak, and he nearly knelt on the ground.

"It's coming again..." Ye Wentian looked up toward the deepest part of the firmament. He saw it.

Outside the gray canopy, in that pitch-black void symbolizing endless Chaos, a light shone. It was not a star. It was a figure.

That figure stood casually in the void, surrounded by dark golden light, like a small sun compressed to the extreme.

He was just standing there, not casting any Spells or making any movements. Yet, in this world, taking a single step was an extravagant hope.

Immediately following—the second, the third, the fourth... The lights were of various colors, and their auras were worlds apart. Some were like scorching divine fire; some were cold and bone-piercing; some were eerie and illusory.

At the core of each light was a figure. To Cultivators of the Lower Realm, every figure was a high and mighty Immortal.

Ye Wentian tried to use his Divine Sense to investigate. However, as soon as his Divine Sense left his body, it was crushed into nothingness by an invisible force.

"Pfft—" Ye Wentian spat out a large mouthful of blood, his face pale as paper. The feeling was like an ant on the ground trying to stare directly at the midday sun—

"Sect Master... what is that... what on earth is that..." Listening to the wailing of the Disciples beside him, Ye Wentian gripped the sword hilt with all his might, his face pale.

He did not answer. He did not know how to answer. More and more lights lit up in the void, dense and numerous, as if someone had lit up a sea of stars outside the realm.

Every time a light descended, the Laws of this realm would let out a mournful cry.

"Crack—" In the far distance, half a broken Peak finally could not withstand the heavy pressure and snapped in half. Billions of tons of rubble rolled down, kicking up dust that filled the sky.

"Thud!" A muffled sound came from behind Ye Wentian. An older Disciple's knees slammed into the ground, blood staining the earth red. He was pressed down firmly by the pressure, unable to even lift his head.

"Senior Brother Zhao! Senior Brother, what's wrong!" A Disciple beside him cried out and lunged over to help. But his own legs were also trembling, and as soon as he relaxed, he was also knocked down by the heavy pressure.

Ye Wentian gritted his teeth, his body creaking under the heavy pressure, swaying unsteadily. He did not turn back to help. It was because as long as he let go of the hand supporting his sword now, and released that breath he was stubbornly holding in his chest, he would be instantly pressed flat onto the ground. He couldn't even protect himself, let alone save others.

"Sect Master... why..." That Senior Brother Zhao who was pressed to the ground, used the last of his strength to lift his head with difficulty. His vision was blurred, and his tone was full of despair.

"Why... what exactly did we do wrong... why are there so many Immortals coming to kill us..."

Ye Wentian shuddered violently. Why? The innocent are not guilty, but holding a treasure is a crime. In this world where the strong are respected, being weak is the original sin.

At this moment, under the pressure of life and death, Ye Wentian suddenly thought of someone in his mind.

That old man who always liked to put his hands behind his back to act like an expert, who once stood on the highest platform of the Qingyun Sect, spreading his arms with a face full of intoxication, waiting for the Divine Light of Induction to descend.

That Old Ancestor Qingxuan who was scammed by Senior Gu a full three times, was scared almost to the point of his Dao Heart collapsing by the pressure of the Upper Realm Divine Envoy, and finally ascended while hugging a golden cage.

"Old Ancestor..." Ye Wentian murmured, "Are you... doing well up there?"

He did not know where Old Ancestor Qingxuan went after ascending, or if he was doing well. But he knew—if the Old Ancestor were still in the Lower Realm and saw this scene, he would probably spread his arms again and shout at the firmament, "This must be my Divine Light of Induction!"

Thinking of this, the corner of Ye Wentian's mouth twitched, wanting to smile. But he could not smile. Because those lights on the firmament were getting brighter and brighter. The pressure was getting heavier and heavier.

Just when Ye Wentian was about to be unable to hold on— "Sect Master Ye." An old, hoarse voice came from the depths of the ruins.

Ye Wentian turned his head. Prime Minister Turtle was leaning on a broken crutch, his turtle shell covered in dense cracks, the seaweed on his head long withered and yellow, his murky eyes looking at the firmament, but there was no fear. Only a kind of indescribable... anticipation?

"Old Turtle, you..." "I am fine." Prime Minister Turtle gasped, his hunched body trembling slightly in the mountain wind. His murky eyes remained fixed on the dense lights outside the firmament.

"Old Turtle... do you know something?" Ye Wentian's voice was hoarse. "I do not know..." Prime Minister Turtle was silent for a moment. Then, he said in a very soft, yet exceptionally firm tone, "But this old servant has a feeling..." "Master..." "is coming back."