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Edited by: Michyrr

Darkness obscured the sky. Just what were the people in the mountains facing? What should they do next?

Mao Qiuyu did not hesitate. His sleeves fluttering, he instantly flew several li as he rushed towards the mountain path. His face ashen, Linghai Zhiwang transformed into a streak of light and followed. With a flip of his right hand, he gripped a pestle dazzling with light.

Precisely according to the calculations of the Elder of Heavenly Secrets, these two Prefects of the Orthodoxy, following the Pope’s order to protect Chen Changsheng, really were carrying the precious treasures of the Orthodoxy!

Yet they were unable to step onto the mountain path. They were forced to stop in front of the mountain gate of the Pavilion of Heavenly Secrets.

It wasn’t because of that darkness, but because high up in the sky above the mountains, countless black stones had appeared.

The stones formed a dense net over the sky, enveloping all of Mount Han in an extremely powerful Qi.

These stones were not ordinary stones, they were stones that shared the same source as the Heavenly Tome Monoliths: the Heavenstones!

These Heavenstones were formed into an extremely terrifying array. Even a supreme expert of the Divine Domain would find it impossible to shatter this Heavenstone array in a short time. Although they were powerful and were also carrying the treasures of the Orthodoxy, they had no means of breaking through and entering Mount Han.

Then what about the people within Mount Han...what about him?

......

......

Heavenstones rose up from the Heaven Lake, from the lake shore, from the grass, from the finger of the Elder of Heavenly Secrets.

The Elder of Heavenly Secrets sat by the lake shore, the wrinkles on his face instantly multiplying, making him seem even more elderly. However, his finger was still firm and stable, incessantly writing something on the steam. He was calculating and simultaneously laying down the array. As he did so, his body exuded an incredibly powerful Qi.

Several thousand Heavenstones flew to various places in the mountain range. Hovering in the air against the black canvas of the night, they seemed like stars as they locked down a circle of five hundred li in radius.

This place was Mount Han, this place was his.

Even though the middle-aged scholar that had come to Mount Han was the strongest opponent he had faced in his one thousand years of cultivation, he still had the confidence to fight with him.

The Heavenstones floating in the night sky formed a net. The very center of this net of stones was the place where the mountain path turned, by the stream, in front of the persimmon trees.

Right above the middle-aged scholar’s head.

The middle-aged scholar raised his head. Despite seeing dozens of Heavenstones everywhere he looked, his expression remained apathetic, not the slightest bit moved.

On the distant lake shore at the summit of Mount Han, the Elder of Heavenly Secrets swayed for a moment. The wrinkles on his face did not increase but seemed to deepen.

The middle-aged scholar gazed at the peak and apathetically said, "Heavenly Secrets, you wish to imprison me with such a simple and crude array?"

His voice was like a clap of thunder, crashing through the mountains.

The cultivators standing guard in front of Chen Changsheng all had their seas of consciousness shaken. Some cultivators who were slightly weaker in cultivation even released their swords and covered their ears in pain.

All these scenes faintly appeared in the steam over the lake at the summit.

The Elder of Heavenly Secrets gazed into the steam and said, "I can’t hold you for a life, but I only need to hold you for a moment."

The middle-aged scholar smiled, questioning, "Then the lives of these juniors, they aren’t your concern?"

The Elder of Heavenly Secrets replied, "As you don’t even care for your own life, just whose life could I possibly concern myself about?"

These two supreme experts were separated by at least a hundred li, but they were talking as if they were standing right across from each other.

Upon hearing this simple conversation, those human cultivators and demi-human experts that had initially gained some hope from hearing the voice of the Elder of Heavenly Secrets were instantly plunged back into despair.

The people of the Pavilion of Heavenly Secrets that were seated cross-legged in the pavilion by the lake shore strengthening the array all revealed disturbed expressions, but none of them could say anything.

If the Elder of Heavenly Secrets used all of his strength, even he could not rescue all the people by the stream and on the mountain path, but perhaps he would be able to save some of them.

But if he did so, the Elder of Heavenly Secrets would be incapable of supporting the Heavenstone array that sealed the five hundred li circle around Mount Han.

Those people that entered Mount Han were all very important, the future of humanity. And yet, if he could hold this middle-aged scholar in Mount Han for a little while longer so that the experts of the human world could rush over and then work together to kill him, then...the humans would assuredly welcome an incomparably sublime future.

In the brief span of time after the Elder of Heavenly Secrets realized the middle-aged scholar’s presence, he had performed forty-odd calculations and ultimately made his choice.

If the deaths of those people could be exchanged for the death of the human world’s most terrifying enemy, they would be worthy deaths.

Even if the future Pope was amongst these people.

The Elder of Heavenly Secrets was confident that if those people knew the identity of this middle-aged scholar, they would make the same choice as he did.

......

......

The Ten Thousand Years Pavilion was a famous sight of Xiling and possessed an expansive library. A scribe was standing by a bookshelf, reading a book in his hands. This person was dressed in a rather ordinary gown. The only peculiarity on his person was the red flower tied to his little finger. This flower was extraordinarily red. It was a very beautiful red, and very special, not at all like a red you might see anywhere else. It had a beauty of some other style.

(TN: Bie Yanghong literally translates to ’Another Style of Red’.)

The scribe’s expression was very calm, all his focus seemingly placed on the book before him. However, the light trembling of the red flower on his finger indicated that his current mood was not at all what he represented. Perhaps it was because the sounds of cursing could occasionally be heard from outside the pavilion. The Ten Thousand Years Pavilion was a famous spot known for its tranquility—who would dare shout curses outside of it? And who would dare curse at this scribe?

The person cursing outside was an old Daoist nun, the horsetail whisk in her hand still half bald. It was actually Wuqiong Bi, who had been driven out of the capital by the Tianhai Divine Empress.

Listening to the curses from outside, the scribe also found it hard to maintain his composure. His brow creased deeper and deeper until finally, he sighed and prepared to speak. It was just then that a faint ripple suddenly appeared in the sky to the east of the Ten Thousand Years Pavilion.

The scribe’s expression subtly shifted. In a flash, his body vanished from the bookshelf, in the next moment appearing outside the pavilion. Upon seeing the scribe finally appear, the old Daoist nun became inwardly rather pleased, but her face was brimming with loathing. Looking at him, she admonished, "You don’t care about your son, don’t tell me you also don’t care about your wife!"

The scribe completely ignored her, his gaze still focused on the blue sky to the northeast, his complexion very unsightly.

Infuriated, the old Daoist nun made to grab at him.

With a cold harrumph, the scribe angrily brushed away her sleeve, then the tip of his foot lightly pressed on a lotus in the lotus pond in front of the pavilion. His body vanished into the sky, no longer to be found.

The old Daoist nun heavily fell against the ground, her cheeks red and swollen.

She covered her face in astonishment. Once she had gotten married, she had never received such treatment.

Just as she was prepared to unleash some curses, she finally sensed the peculiarity from the sky. Her face paled somewhat and her heart began to beat with fear.

At this moment, she only hoped that brushing away her sleeve did not delay her husband even a second.

......

......

The Myriad Willows Garden outside Hanqiu City was still scorched earth. Although quite some time had passed, no tender buds were sprouting from the ground.

Zhu Luo stood by the once–lake shore, gazing at the ruined scenery in silence.

In these past few days, he had devoted his time to dealing with the matters of the Zhu clan and the Emotion-Severing Sect. At the same time, he was also waiting for the day that Wang Po would return to Tianliang County. As a result, his mind was somewhat weary.

A man wearing a bamboo hat stood at his side. He was precisely Guan Xingke of the Storms of the Eight Directions.

Suddenly, a black grain of ash fell on the fringe of his hat. Guan Xingke seemed to sense something and looked towards the eastern horizon. He saw that several thousand li away, the sea of clouds had dimmed somewhat.

"Something’s happened."

"You go."

"Okay."