Chapter 327: Harvest and the Dragon Tomb

Twenty years later.

Winter.

Heavy snow.

Outside the window, the north wind howled, swirling snowflakes in the air.

Inside, a fire burned in the stove, wood crackling with a rhythmic crackle-pop. Ao Ye lay on his sickbed, his brilliant life finally reaching its end. Through countless ups and downs, he had ultimately remained true to his core.

He had never forgotten his initial dreams.

He had lived his entire life as himself.

Sensing his life force ebbing away, he vaguely saw familiar figures.

His teacher, His Majesty, and his elder brother.

They stood in the heavy snow, smiling and waving at him.

“You’re here? We’ve been waiting for you.”

Hearing the voices, a faint smile appeared on Ao Ye’s lips as he passed away.

Southern Heaven Domain.

The Imperial Preceptor, clad in luxurious black robes, entered the territory of the Millennial Ancient Kingdom. Everyone who saw him, even members of the royal family, prostrated themselves in deep reverence. He was like the very sky over this land. Void Sage followed behind, gaining a deeper understanding of the Centipede Spirit’s immense power.

“People harbor foolish misconceptions about our Millennial Ancient Kingdom, viewing us as demons. I believe this perception is unjustified.”

The Imperial Preceptor walked ahead, his black hair cascading down his shoulders, his expression serene like a Daoist True Person. His aura was harmonious and balanced; Void Sage detected no trace of Demonic Qi in his presence.

This was the true horror.

A demon who could conceal its Demonic Qi—this was the true great demon.

“What cultivators truly vie for is merely longevity. As long as one can become an Immortal, any means can be justified as the righteous path. Fellow Daoist, do you agree?”

The Imperial Preceptor casually chatted, Void Sage walking beside him as if they were old friends.

Not long ago, after sensing Xue Ning’s death, the Imperial Preceptor had personally visited the Seven Kingdoms Land.

The Seven Patriarchs of Jade Purity had their “One Hundred and Eight Peaks” plan, and the Millennium Centipede Spirit naturally had his own schemes.

He was treading a path no one had walked before, and for this path, he had collaborated with the Ghost Temple and Ten Thousand Demon Mountain.

Xue Ning had been his chess piece.

The painting on Xue Ning’s body had been brought from the Upper Realm by the Imperial Preceptor, its origins extraordinary.

From the moment Xue Ning stole the painting, defected to the Ghost Temple to become a Ghost Cultivator, to her later scheming to establish a Nascent Soul Foundation—all of it had been observed by the Imperial Preceptor. He had allowed her to develop unchecked. He was experimenting with a unique path to Divine Transformation, and Xue Ning’s success would have proven its viability.

Unfortunately, no one could have anticipated that Xue Ning, who had been thriving in the Seven Kingdoms Region, would suddenly die, and the painting on her body would be lost. Though the painting held little value for the Imperial Preceptor now, as a crucial component of his plan, he still intended to retrieve it.

The killer of Xue Ning was surrounded by sword qi, the aura of the Qiong Hua Sect’s Seven Sword Madmen—the very people he despised most.

To avoid further complications, the Imperial Preceptor personally investigated the matter. Though he failed to apprehend the murderer, he stumbled upon a talent capable of absorbing the remnants of the Demonic Heart Ancestor. Compared to Xue Ning, this person was the perfect chess piece. Thus, he invited the Void Sage to join the Millennial Ancient Kingdom.

“Is the path you walk truly the correct ‘Immortal Path’?” the Void Sage suddenly asked.

Throughout the Southern Heaven Domain, no one dared claim they were on the correct cultivation path. The strongest cultivators here had only reached the Nascent Soul realm, and no one had yet discerned the path to Divine Transformation. Even the Founding Ancestors of the Four Great Immortal Sects, who stood at the pinnacle of the domain, were merely Nascent Soul cultivators. Their generation was still searching for their own Spirit Transformation Methods.

“I don’t know if I’ll become an Immortal, but before reaching Divine Transformation, my path is undoubtedly correct,” the Imperial Preceptor replied.

As he spoke, he led the Void Sage to the Imperial Palace.

This place, once the residence of the Millennial Ancient Kingdom’s Emperor, now served as the Imperial Preceptor’s Dao Arena. Within and without the palace, all living beings—save for his disciples—were mere husks parasitized by insects. The entire kingdom exuded an aura of perversion.

“I have already touched the threshold of Divine Transformation,” the Imperial Preceptor declared as they passed through the palace gates and walked deep into the inner chambers.

“Imperial Preceptor.”

“Master.”

On their way, Void Sage encountered the Three Dukes and the Emperor of the Millennial Ancient Kingdom. The four stood respectfully at the entrance, bowing to the Imperial Preceptor. The previous Three Dukes had been slain by Patriarch Guhe of the Great Void from the Qiong Hua Sect, and these were the newly appointed replacements, each possessing Core Formation strength. While they would be considered top-tier experts in an ordinary mid-sized sect, they still fell short of the standards set by the Four Great Immortal Sects.

“Are all the preparations complete?”

“Everything has been brought.”

The three Dukes cautiously raised their heads to glance at Void Sage, who stood behind the Imperial Preceptor.

A flicker of resentment flashed in the Emperor’s eyes, revealing the emotion of jealousy.

This opportunity was originally meant to be his!

The stone doors swung open.

A pungent stench of blood assaulted their nostrils. Void Sage’s pupils constricted as he took in the scene within the chamber.

Inside the Water Mansion’s inner courtyard, a Blood Blade Marauder Cultivator lay on the ground. He slowly opened his eyes, his gaze unfocused as the lingering effects of the Demonic Heart Tribulation gradually dissipated. He remembered now: he and a group of Marauder Cultivators had infiltrated the Water Mansion to plunder the Treasure Vault. They had encountered Hong Madam, who had tried to scapegoat them for her schemes. The ensuing battle had reached a critical point when one of their companions unexpectedly revealed himself to be a Core Formation True Person.

Then…

With this thought, the Blood Blade Marauder Cultivator immediately crawled to his feet, cautiously scanning his surroundings.

The ground was littered with bodies, scattered in disarray.

“Awake?” Chen Luo’s indifferent voice cut through the silence. In his palm, he held four pitch-black stones. Three were relatively small, but the fourth stood out, its deep black hue tinged with purple, radiating an unmistakable aura of power. Even the Blood Blade Marauder Cultivator, unversed in the Demonic Heart Art, could sense its extraordinary nature.

“Senior,” the Blood Blade Marauder Cultivator said cautiously. He had abandoned any thoughts of escape. He had just witnessed this Senior’s capabilities—powers that, to this elder, were as trivial as a child’s game.

As he spoke, several figures nearby began to stir and open their eyes. Among them were Hong Madam, Zuoqiulong, and Ao Ye.

Watching these familiar faces, a flicker of memory passed through the Blood Blade Marauder Cultivator’s eyes. The details had blurred; after all, the Demonic Heart Tribulation had been someone else’s ordeal. To a Blood Blade Cultivator, it felt like waking from a dream—someone else’s dream. Without the cultivation of the Demonic Heart Art, Foundation Establishment cultivators rarely retained clear memories of their tribulations.

Enduring someone else’s tribulation…

Dangerous, and the rewards were meager.

The few who regained consciousness were initially disoriented. Then they saw Chen Luo standing in the center of the battlefield. They obediently stood to the side, and even Hong Madam became remarkably docile. The experiences she had endured during the tribulation left her in a daze; she vaguely remembered that the “Senior” before her seemed to be a relative.

After waiting for a while, they gradually realized something was amiss.

They noticed that, apart from the few of them still standing, everyone else lay motionless on the ground. This included the surrounding shrimp soldiers and all the cultivators within the area—every last one had lost their life. Their auras had faded, and their bodies were growing cold and stiff.

They were all dead?

The sight sent shivers down their spines. They couldn’t comprehend how this had happened. Even deaths from divine abilities or Magic Artifacts would have been easier to accept than this silent, inexplicable slaughter. How could they defend themselves against such a threat? After much thought, they couldn’t devise a countermeasure, which only deepened the mystery surrounding Chen Luo.

“Teacher.”

Ao Ye, now fully awake, stood respectfully beside Chen Luo, his posture clearly expressing his eagerness to cling to his mentor’s influence.

The three Foundation Establishment cultivators noticed this, their eyes twitching slightly.

They hadn’t expected the boy to be so quick to grovel and latch onto a powerful patron.

“Four cores. Not bad.”

Chen Luo tucked his harvest into his sleeve, planning to move elsewhere to process them once he’d dealt with the current situation.

A powerful presence was rapidly approaching, its overwhelming Demonic Qi unmasked, detectable even at this great distance.

It was the Great King of Black Horn.

The Black Fish Spirit, who had cultivated into a Flood Dragon, was returning!

“Take me to this Dragon Tomb you mentioned.”

The Demonic Heart Tribulation hadn’t consumed much time. Before the Great King of Black Horn returned, Chen Luo decided to investigate the Dragon Tomb below first, hoping to find two useful brains. He also didn’t want to waste the Marauder Cultivators who had died in the battle. Walking over, he touched the heads of all the fallen, acquiring over a dozen more high-integrity brains.

As his cultivation advanced, Chen Luo gradually discerned the differences between high- and low-integrity brains.

High-integrity brains possessed remarkable learning ability. With Chen Luo’s permission, they could learn far more effectively than low-integrity brains. Brains with integrity below thirty percent, excluding special cases like mummified brains and the Demonic Heart Ancestor, retained only vestigial instincts from their living state, their learning capacity far inferior to that of high-integrity brains of similar cultivation levels.

In essence, it came down to their potential for growth.

A highly intact brain can grow and develop, while a low-integrity brain remains in its original state when acquired, never changing thereafter.

“The Dragon Tomb?” Hong Madam’s expression darkened.

That place was the lifeline of the Great King of Black Horn, far more valuable than any treasure vault. If outsiders gained entry, none of them would live to see another day.

“Yes,” Ao Ye replied, unfazed by the implications. He was determined to cling to Chen Luo’s coattails.

His experiences during the Demonic Heart Tribulation had deepened his faith in Chen Luo. Unlike ordinary people and Immortal Cultivators, who could distinguish between the tribulation and reality, Ao Ye saw things differently. Compared to his pale, monotonous life, the memories from the tribulation felt more ‘real.’ Even with only fragmented recollections, he clung to this conviction, mistakenly treating these fragments as ‘past life’ memories.

“Wait,” Hong Madam blurted out instinctively, then paused mid-sentence as she regained her composure.

The Great King of Black Horn was a killer, and the man before her was no saint either. Glancing at the corpses littering the ground, she quickly swallowed the rest of her words. The Great King’s danger was a future concern; her immediate priority was survival.

With Ao Ye leading the way, the group quickly found the Dragon Tomb hidden within an unassuming well.

The well within the Water Mansion looked strangely out of place.

This was Ao Ye’s first time here as well. His mother had revealed its location to him on her deathbed, and he had originally planned to find a way inside to obtain the Dragon Transformation Secret Art. Now, he was offering this secret to Chen Luo as a “master-disciple gift.”

Chen Luo reached out and touched the well. A faint azure glow shimmered on the surface.

A Formation?

At least Fourth-Tier.

Hanging Brother’s brain provided the assessment.

A Fourth-Tier Formation corresponded to the Nascent Soul Realm, which was beyond Chen Luo’s current capabilities. The most advanced Formation Master brain he possessed was Hanging Brother, a peak Second-Tier expert. Over the years, Chen Luo had continuously fed him knowledge about Third-Tier Formations, but Hanging Brother’s brain had failed to advance, merely accumulating more information. The path to becoming a true Third-Tier Formation Master remained long. Unlike Dan Refinement, Chen Luo hadn’t studied Formations himself. Trying to cram Fourth-Tier Formation knowledge at the last minute would be insufficient.

Forcing our way in wouldn’t work either.

If we get trapped and the Great King of Black Horn returns, we’ll be in real trouble.