Chapter 167 – Dragon Rises in the Western Continent

Darkness fell in an instant. The Twelve Continents returned to chaos, so dark you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face. The sun, moon, and stars seemed to have vanished all at once. All that could be heard was the muffled roll of thunder in the cosmos above, a booming sound like mountains collapsing. The bizarre phenomenon immediately threw all living creatures into a panic—it had only been twelve years since a similar situation had occurred!

Any living creature with even a bit of intelligence clearly remembered the terrifying feeling of heaven and earth about to be crushed. In Qingzhou’s Fu City, Liu Aren lit a lamp and instructed her steward to look after the Liu estate. Then, ignoring all attempts to dissuade her, she hurried toward the City Divination Department. The wind was howling, and the thunder was incessant. Several of the Divine Fu Tree’s side branches had not yet recovered from the last calamity and were being supported by frames built by the oracle masters. She worried that the frames would be blown over, and without support, the silver Fu tree’s branches would snap and break.

The moment she stepped outside, Liu Aren was blinded by the wind and sand. Miasma pressed in from all directions. The lanterns lit by the people in the city seemed exceptionally faint and weak in the face of this all-consuming darkness. Liu Aren covered her face with her sleeve and pushed forward against the wind. From time to time, she heard the door or window of a house in the market streets being blown open, slamming against the wall with a loud “thwack,” and with it, a household’s light would be extinguished. The terrified cries of children would immediately follow, sharp and shrill. Before they could travel far, they, along with the adults’ attempts to comfort them, were torn to shreds by the wind.

Liu Aren’s heart was filled with anxiety, and her pace quickened. For some reason, an indescribable unease weighed heavily on her heart, stronger and more frightening than it had been twelve years ago. It was as if something was about to happen in the unseen world… What was wrong? In her alarm, the vast, verdant canopy covering Fu City began to stir. The snow-and-gauze-like canopy surged like a tide, and large clusters of silver light, branches and leaves alike, crashed down on the high and low houses of Fu City, pattering down, urgently waking everyone up in the stormy night, urgently calling for everyone to protect something. It had always been as gentle as a loving mother, but at this moment, it was as anxious as a mute person screaming with all their might…

…Faster.

Faster, even faster…

There’s no time…

A huge sense of panic came from a familiar direction, drowning Liu Aren, the newly appointed City Diviner, drowning all the oracle masters and maidens of the City Divination Department, and even drowning everyone in the entire city. Almost no one in the world would believe that a tree could have such intense anxiety and sorrow.

The lantern was blown out by the wind. Liu Aren didn’t bother to relight it. She simply threw the lantern away and ran wildly in the direction the silver Fu tree was urging her. Vaguely, she felt that the direction was somewhat familiar. It was…

A clap of thunder split the sky, and lightning streaked across, briefly illuminating Fu City, illuminating the direction the Divine Fu Tree was urging her to go.

“…No!”

Liu Aren cried out. A silver light exploded in the open space where a bonfire had once burned and a great feast had been held. A stone stele, one that had been newly carved not long ago, exploded with a boom in Liu Aren’s vision… The miasma of the Gui-Ding year, the great calamity of Fu City, the long-hidden puppet threads, the bloody catastrophe… just as the Divine Lord was traveling this way… this is erected to commemorate his grace…

The neat seal script, every character, shattered. A fierce wind swept up, leaving only a cloud of ash. Then, an illusory, ethereal fire suddenly rose from beneath Fu City, and like a shooting star, it trailed a long streak of light and disappeared into the western sky. The flowing fire vanished too quickly for people to know what it was. Only the speechless silver Fu tree, the moment the fire rose, roared like a raging tide. It was like a mute person, wailing at the top of their lungs. People only felt that in the instant the phantom fire rose, the city trembled, and around the city, the black miasma surged, splitting and surging, as if in a wild celebration.

***

As one stele after another shattered on its own, as one scroll after another burned on its own, clusters of flowing fire rose from the mountains and rivers of the Twelve Continents. The places where the fire rose were sometimes vast plains, sometimes the fertile soil where rivers met, sometimes the estuaries where great rivers entered the sea… Some had cities, some did not; some had countryside, some did not.

They were like scattered stars. Looking down from above, it was like a grand rain of fire, first rising from the earth to the sky, then traveling from the Twelve Continents to the northwest. When the fireworks rose, in Crane City, Plum City… one after another, obscure and ancient auras immediately began to stir, and one after another, figures hidden in the darkness abruptly looked up.

They had seen a similar rain of fire before—at the end of the Primeval Era. Before the familiar white-robed figure appeared at the end of the heavenly steps, none of the heavenly gods had thought that the Divine Lord would truly ascend Incomplete Mountain alone for the sake of the mortal realm. Under the model of Zhoubi Heaven Stabilization, all beings had to wait until cities covered the land and the stars filled the sky before it was possible to use the circulating qi aura to support heaven and earth on its own. And Incomplete Mountain was one of the hubs connecting the Heavenly Pillars and Heavenly Wedges at that time.

Back then, the Twelve Continents had only just taken shape, and there were few cities in the mortal realm, not enough to support heaven and earth.

…Without Incomplete Mountain, without the heavenly gods, who will maintain the axis of the mortal realm? Since the axis of the mortal realm is maintained by the heavenly gods, then the destiny of the mortal realm should naturally be obtained by the heavenly gods, and the Twelve Continents should naturally be their possession.

…If that’s the case, then let me maintain it.

At the end of the ninety-thousand-step white jade staircase, the Divine Lord’s voice was calm, as light as a sigh. He fell downward, shattering into a sky full of flowing fire.

The Primeval Era had passed for ten thousand years. Darkness swept across the Twelve Continents, but the northwest corner of the West Continent was illuminated by the returning fire from all directions, turning it a brilliant rose color. The firelight also illuminated many faces. Each face had a different expression. Huai Ningjun’s robe billowed in the wind. He subconsciously took a step forward, then stopped. Amidst the sky full of firelight, there was already someone by the Divine Lord’s side, inseparable as a shadow.

Shi Wuluo’s silver-gray pupils reflected the trajectory of every stream of fire. They overlapped with another rain of fire in his memory.

“…We build the four poles and release the sun and moon, not for destiny, nor for mansions.”

In the late Primeval Era, the Divine Lord ascended the cloud steps one by one, his Taiyi Sword held low, the tip dragging a long trail of blood.

“…You have forgotten. You have forgotten that when Kuafu died, he threw his staff with all his might, just to create one last peach forest. You have forgotten that when Liu Chi died, he still drove his chariot wildly, just to carry the light of one more day. You have forgotten that when Chi Gui died, he carried wood and dragged stones, his eyes fixed on the east, unblinking…”

“You have all forgotten.”

The Divine Lord stood still, looked up, his eyes like clear springs, and also like the cold moon.

“I haven’t forgotten.”

He hadn’t forgotten all the companions who, when they fell, had entrusted their bodies to him with peace of mind. They had all joked that in life, they could clear the wilderness, and in death, they could become pillars. One body, two uses—this journey was not a loss… Those bodies, those laughing words, one by one, were all delivered onto the Divine Lord’s shoulders.

He could have gone with the flow, he could have looked down from the clouds. But if even he did so, then what would Kuafu, Liu Chi, Chi Gui… all the bodies buried deep in the earth, holding up the heavens, be considered?

The wind blew through the Cloud City, and the Divine Lord’s robes fluttered like clouds, like mist, like a rainbow, like a rosy haze. Ten thousand people fell silent. The Divine Lord ran his fingers over his sword, wiping away the residual blood. One sword to sever Incomplete Mountain. Then, he let go.

He spread his arms, offering himself as the pivot point for the turning of the celestial sphere and the terrestrial plane. Between heaven and earth, he was ground into dust by the Twelve Continents. His bones and flesh, scattered and spread, fell over mountains, rivers, and lakes. Between heaven and earth, life force burgeoned, and thus supported the sun and moon. And in the places where his flesh was buried, colorful flowers bloomed… It was as dreamlike as a whale fall.

…He’s asleep.

The Heavenly Dao thought. Yes, he’s just asleep. He’s lying right here in my arms. Since they all say that mountains are the spine of the earth, rivers are its pulse, and plains are its flesh, then when he falls on the mountains, he falls into my spine; when he falls into the rivers, he falls into my pulse; when he falls on the plains, he falls into my flesh; and if the wind blows him, and he rises in the wind, he merges with my breath. His bones, his blood, his flesh. He and I are one body.

The Heavenly Dao thought this, and in his bitter hatred and sharp pain, he tasted a trace of bloody sweetness and desperate joy. Although, for a very, very long time, it was always, always raining in the Twelve Continents of the mortal realm.

Torrential rain, blizzards, blood rain, fire rain… all kinds of unprecedented extreme weather appeared simultaneously in the northern lands of the West Continent. The once magnificent Dragon Head Thousand Peaks of the Beast Taming Sect’s main sect had already collapsed and cracked in the previous upheavals. The surging sea-river flowed over it, turning it into an ocean of floating corpses and sunken bones.

Only Zhuang Xuan remained, standing precariously in the pillar of light. Shi Wuluo stretched out a pale hand and pressed down remotely on the sea’s surface. Zhuang Xuan immediately bled from his mouth and nose. Before the devastating force pressing down from high above, he stood with difficulty, a crazed smile on his face. “I establish the West Pole, and you establish the West Pole! The mortal realm… what crime has the mortal realm committed!”

Shi Wuluo was unmoved. His pale, cold hand pressed down cruelly. The last person of the Beast Taming Sect, along with all the corpses and the dying floating on the sea, exploded into a vast mist of blood. The Heavenly Dao, long since fallen to a demon, made a grasping motion, and the wisps of blood qi suddenly converged, gathering like a great whale sucking in a river, and entered the Silver Dragon’s inner pill.

Thump, thump, thump!

Three heartbeats like the beating of a drum. In the dark eye sockets of the Silver Dragon’s head, two dark red flames suddenly ignited. A dragon’s cry shook the heavens.

“Rise.”

Shi Wuluo commanded in a low voice. The next moment, the huge pillar of light, carried by the giant dragon, rose from the ground. The moment the pillar of light rose, for a thousand kilometers around, the seawater, the rocks, the ghosts and demons, were all thrown back! All were pushed out in all directions! Nu Mie, A-He… the sea demons of the West Sea felt a jolt in their ears, and in the next moment, they all spat out a mouthful of blood and were thrown a thousand kilometers away.

The entire West Sea, with its trillions of tons of seawater, was pulled along, rising up and then crashing down heavily. Like a giant spirit beating a drum. Using the sea as a pestle and the earth as a drum. With one strike of the drum, the land of the West Continent, with its many rivers and few plains, immediately began to crack and shatter.

Countless snow-capped mountains collapsed with a roar, and avalanches, like snakes, like dragons, roared across the land, effortlessly swallowing the towns and villages nestled in the narrow river valleys. Countless majestic mountain ranges collided. Between the mountains, between the peaks, the ten thousand lights of homes, which had dotted the landscape, vanished in an instant. Countless streams of lava, from tens of millions of meters deep in the earth, roared and spewed out, flowing freely over the dark black soil.

In a single breath, tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands, millions of living beings were ground to dust, filled into the deep crevices of the abyss. Shi Wuluo’s robes, in an instant, turned the same color as Chou Bodeng’s, a red that seemed almost to drip blood.

Almost at the same time, Chou Bodeng stretched out his hand. His wide sleeves were blown up to his elbows, revealing slender arms, his cold white skin tinged with the color of blood by the heavenly fire. From within his sleeves, which fluttered like rosy clouds, his fingertips seemed to reflect the stars. The points of fire coming from all directions were drawn by him, trailing long tails of light as they shot downward, converging at the place where the Heavenly Wedge had originally been.

Once mixed with the lava, white snow, and bloody water, the flowing light lost its brilliant colors and turned into handfuls of dust.

This was him. His dead bones, his shed blood, his broken flesh. His form, which had been ground into dust ten thousand years ago. …My companions of the past could die for the mortal realm, could become pillars for the Twelve Continents, so can I.

He thought this, letting time pass, letting himself be submerged in the rotting soil and mud. There was nothing to regret. But, in the past ten thousand years, there was a Heavenly Dao that had finally taken form, so foolish, so clumsy, that had traveled a thousand mountains and ten thousand valleys for him, had crossed black waters and white rivers. To climb a thousand-ren lone peak, to collect the first drop of morning dew; to descend a ten-thousand-zhang deep pool, to find the cold jade that had been tempered a hundred times… In this way, with orchids and wisteria, with fine gold and beautiful jade, he had cut open his own chest, and gathered all the good and beautiful things that had condensed on his heart.

Then, with all these most precious treasures, he had carefully, carefully pieced together a new him. Even if the price was falling into hell himself.

The last stream of fire fell, the last handful of broken bones piled up to form a pillar. The Heavenly Wedge was completely raised. The strong air currents blew Chou Bodeng’s and Shi Wuluo’s robes, making them flutter. They wore the same blood-red robes, shared the same breath. One had been buried in heaven and earth, the other had poured out heaven and earth… They had long been bone of each other’s bone, blood of each other’s blood, flesh of each other’s flesh.

There was no one else like them, sharing joy and sorrow, life and death. Muffled thunder rolled, gathering the shock of collapsing mountains. Dark clouds galloped, taking on the momentum of a speeding chariot.

After the West Continent’s Heavenly Wedge was completely raised, the Silver Dragon, carrying the Heavenly Wedge on its back, completely revealed its ten-thousand-kilometer-long, enormous body. It bore the qi of all the mountains and rivers of the entire West Continent on its back—she would stretch her body with all her might, and the wrinkled earth of the West Continent would stretch with her. The sky of the northwest would be filled, and the unopened heavenly gate would be ignited.

Lava flowed, and snow waves meandered. In this great upheaval where mountains and rivers were about to be shattered and the continent was about to be reforged, the huge, beautiful Silver Dragon gently turned its head.

“Divine Lord, A Rong has grown up!” the Silver Dragon’s voice was clear and crisp, her eyes filled with tears. “A Rong, A Rong is here to carry you and the Twelve Continents!”