Chapter 1287: Holy Tradition United in Hatred

It was not an illusion on the part of the Xuanyang cultivators; the sky had truly collapsed!

After a brief silence, a vast, resonant sound, never heard before, echoed across the world like a clap of thunder.

"Ahhh!" It was as if they had been struck directly on the head; countless cultivators' vision went black, and they nearly lost consciousness, on the verge of fainting.

A buzzing tinnitus lingered for a good half-day.

It was a tremor originating from the soul, and even blocking the five senses proved futile.

Without exception, all the cultivators who looked up at the sky found that it seemed to have become tangible.

Moreover, the concentration of spiritual energy in the world had just undergone a very noticeable decline.

The Xuanyang winds and rains also significantly weakened as some of the world's power was drawn away.

Most cultivators in the world did not understand why such a terrifying phenomenon was occurring.

Only those standing at the pinnacle of power in the Xuanyang Realm understood the true meaning behind these strange phenomena.

In a peculiar space,

Five statues, their faces obscured, stood in a circle.

The statues bowed their heads, gazing down at the center.

There, a glowing cloud cluster, representing the current state of Xuanyang, floated silently.

All the numerous changes in the Xuanyang Realm since the war began were meticulously displayed within the cloud cluster.

At this moment, as the sky collapsed and the earth shifted, the Xuanyang cloud cluster slowly writhed, visibly shrinking by almost a full circle.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, they've truly gone all out this time," a somewhat flippant female voice suddenly remarked.

"Are we just going to watch? This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity..." One of the statues instantly sprang to life, revealing its true appearance.

Her long hair, silken and smooth, cascaded to her waist.

A slender, form-fitting white robe tightly embraced her voluptuous figure, yet for some unknown reason, her fair thighs were left exposed.

With hazy eyes, she placed a delicate finger to her lips and addressed the other four statues.

"What if we don't watch? Are we to aid that Saint Emperor of unknown origin?" A cold voice emanated from the statue dressed in a Daoist robe.

"I was deeply moved upon hearing the Saint Emperor preach the new law; he could be considered my mentor. If it were possible, I would truly wish to assist. Alas..." The scholar-like statue also came to life, looking up beyond the Xuanyang Heavens with a faint sigh.

"The struggle for Xuanyang's orthodoxy is, in truth, irrelevant to us. The Preceptor harbors a wolfish ambition, and this Saint Emperor, whose origins are unknown, is likely no benevolent figure either. The Xuanyang Realm, and even this entire star sea, are not places for us to remain indefinitely. Our future hope, fellow cultivators, rests with Wuyou. Our wisest course of action is to maintain stability with the Myriad Immortal Alliance and within the Xuanyang Realm, patiently awaiting the final outcome. Becoming embroiled in this conflict would truly be an unwise choice," a statue whose face remained indistinct declared profoundly from the center.

"Moreover... the Preceptor cannot possibly lose," the statue added.

The gazes of all four statues converged upon Wuyou Tianzun, who appeared to remain in a deep slumber.

Senior Sister Zhao remarked with a hint of melancholy, "Oh, I was hoping to use this opportunity to tease those people from the Myriad Immortal Alliance. They're all fresh faces, after all, much more stimulating."

The scholar, the Daoist, and the statue with the indistinct face all feigned deafness.

"Indeed, embodying the heavens and earth has too many drawbacks. With the Xuanyang Realm drawing on its strength to assist, I've also become much weaker," Senior Sister Zhao said languidly, covering her lips with a yawn.

"I'm going back to recuperate now. Call me if anything comes up."

Before her words had fully faded, Senior Sister Zhao's stone statue once again fell silent.

The scholar statue chuckled softly, "She still couldn't resist joining the excitement."

"A thousand people, a thousand faces, and Zhao Ruoxi possesses far more than ten thousand. It's quite normal for her to be somewhat unhinged and unable to control herself," the Daoist statue stated bluntly. "Let her be; dying isn't so easy for her."

After Senior Sister Zhao departed, the statue whose face remained indistinct suddenly came to life.

It revealed the figure of a solemn, middle-aged cultivator with a square face.

"After so many years of development, the Land of Wuyou has already spread to the borders of the star sea and is beginning to penetrate the High Wall."

"Now is the most critical juncture."

"This sudden outbreak of conflict, regardless of its ultimate outcome, is beneficial rather than harmful to us. At the very least, there will be many casualties... and after this, a massive surge of Wuyou power will be replenished. Perhaps Wuyou can leverage this to break through the High Wall's restraints in one fell swoop," the square-faced cultivator stated gravely.

"After all, the High Wall's sealing power over a consciousness space like the Land of Wuyou is far weaker than its power over physical entities."

As the square-faced cultivator spoke, a peculiar atmosphere permeated the space.

Yet Wuyou, who carried the hopes of the five Celestial Venerables for liberation, remained peacefully in slumber. Nevertheless, his occasional twitching eyebrows hinted at intense inner turmoil.

After a short silence, the Daoist statue spoke, "Beyond the High Wall... is not a peaceful place either. One can see this from the group who escaped years ago now wishing to return. Unfortunately, the High Wall is difficult to surmount. This holds true both within and outside the wall."

"Even if this plan ultimately succeeds, and we manage to escape the High Wall by utilizing the dream power of the Land of Wuyou, without the foundational power of the Xuanyang Realm's laws, our strength will undoubtedly plummet. Those in the Dao Harmonization realm, beyond the High Wall, might find it impossible to even take a single step."

The square-faced cultivator gravely added, "Even if there are dangers, what we lose will only be our dream bodies. For our true selves, it won't be a fundamental loss. However, if beyond the High Wall is truly a paradise, we can cultivate using our dream bodies from there, gradually transferring the power of our main bodies."

"Once the dream body fully solidifies in reality and its strength surpasses that of our true self, we can then perform a swap, successfully shedding our old selves like a cicada."

The scholar statue, listening to their conversation, nodded slightly: "Indeed, it's the most secure method we've devised so far. If not for the terrifying power of Preceptor Tianzun and his stubborn refusal to relinquish his hold on this small plot of the Xuanyang Realm, we wouldn't have to endure such frustration."

The Daoist statue said, "If that's the case, then let each of us add more fuel to the fire. The more concentrated the Wuyou power, the better. As long as it doesn't endanger the Xuanyang Realm, the number of casualties is irrelevant."

As they spoke, a powerful gust of wind seemed to sweep in from outside the Xuanyang Realm.

The Xuanyang light cluster in the center of the five statues subtly trembled, a movement visible to the naked eye.

A flicker of astonishment crossed the eyes of all three Longevity Celestial Venerables.

"It's understandable that the Preceptor is so formidable. He has, after all, lived for countless years."

"This Saint Emperor, who emerged out of nowhere, is also this terrifying? Even with the Xuanyang Realm's assistance, it shouldn't be to this extent, should it?"

The three Celestial Venerables exchanged uncertain glances, filled with surprise and doubt.

Meanwhile, Wuyou Tianzun slept even more soundly.

"Body transformed..."

"Into Xuanyang Heaven!"

An incredibly vast power suddenly surged into his body, and the Saint Emperor roared.

Purple, gold, and Xuanyang—various colors merged, and the Saint Emperor's figure disappeared beneath the Preceptor's enormous palm.

In his place appeared an endlessly continuous landscape of the Xuanyang heavens and earth.

The Xuanyang Realm, a realm in itself,

Though it had integrated numerous other fragmented cultivation realms, its overall scale ultimately had an upper limit.

Yet at this moment, the Xuanyang heavens and earth, suppressed beneath the Preceptor's immense palm, were boundless and seemingly without end.

The sky was vast, the earth wide, and the landscapes between them continually shifted.

Seas turned to mulberry fields, and stars shifted positions.

As time flowed, the distance between heaven and earth slowly expanded.

It was as if an invisible giant stood between the earth and the firmament.

Continuously pushing the sky higher.

"Xuanyang Transformation, Heaven and Earth Boundless!"

"Xuanyang of the past, Xuanyang of the present, Xuanyang of the future!"

"Gather!"

The Saint Emperor's voice echoed throughout the Xuanyang phantom.

As the heavens and earth expanded, his voice grew even louder.

Past, present, future.

The Xuanyang Realm of infinite time and space

merged into one at this very moment.

Countless phantoms, overlapping one another, seemed to be forcibly dragged out from the river of time.

Forming an unprecedentedly vast and eternal space-time.

The Preceptor's immense palm, pressing downward, was held up by the boundless celestial canopy. It trembled violently but could not advance any further.

The expansion of the Eternal Xuanyang Realm seemed endless.

At a speed even greater than its previous contraction, and under the inverse pressure of immeasurable Xuanyang light, the Preceptor's immense palm instantly reverted to the size of a normal person.

The scale of space returned to normal.

The Preceptor withdrew his palm, gazing at the circular black mark in its center, which appeared scorched by an intense fire. A hint of solemnity flickered in his eyes.

Even with the constant flow of light and shadow on his body, the cyclical destruction and rebirth of the Dao, he could not heal this black mark.

Opposite the Preceptor, the phantom of the Eternal Xuanyang Realm illuminated the dark and desolate star-filled sky.

It was as if a supreme immortal realm, eternal through past, present, and future, had truly been born into the world.

The Preceptor's gaze left the wound on his hand and shifted to the immense scene before him.

Mountains loomed, fertile lands stretched for countless miles, and strange spirits and wondrous sights were innumerable.

It was akin to the fabled immortal realm.

The Preceptor gazed at the Xuanyang Realm before him, momentarily lost in contemplation.

A streak of starlight burst forth from the sky of the Eternal Xuanyang Realm.

Dressed in a starlight robe, wearing a Nine Heavens Jade Crown, and treading upon the river of time,

the Saint Emperor slowly emerged from the Eternal Xuanyang Realm.

It was like stepping from a painting into reality.

Illusion and reality twisted and intertwined at this moment, making it difficult to discern what was real.

It even evoked a subtle yet intensely contradictory feeling.

"This is..."

"The Law of Time?" The Preceptor's voice held a mix of surprise and disbelief.

However, after a moment, he shook his head slightly, dismissing his initial conjecture.

The black scar on his hand not only failed to heal with the passage of time but grew increasingly severe, even threatening to spread to other parts of his body.

For his Grand Supreme body, this was simply inconceivable.

The Preceptor could vaguely sense that what was steadily eroding his palm was not a force related to time.

But rather...

An established fact.

Regardless of the flow of time, or the birth and destruction of star seas,

this wound would remain unaltered.

The Saint Emperor, having emerged from the Eternal Xuanyang Realm, gave the Preceptor no chance to rest.

"Glorious Holy Spirits, align with me, become my spears and halberds!"

As the Saint Emperor's voice reverberated, phantoms, similarly cloaked in starlight robes, emerged one by one from the Eternal Xuanyang Realm.

Their faces were indistinct, and even the techniques they employed were vastly different from those of the Saint Emperor.

Yet, without exception, they all viewed the Preceptor as their foe.

Without a word, they immediately engaged him in combat.

Some fought with fists and feet, others with talismans, and still others with flying swords.

Their Daoist techniques and divine abilities were all illusory manifestations. They appeared unremarkable and possessed no special power.

Yet, even without physically striking the Preceptor, they still inflicted damage upon him.

All the wounds were identical to the circular black mark that had appeared on his palm earlier.

Furthermore, before the vast, seemingly ever-expanding Eternal Xuanyang Realm, the Preceptor's power also appeared suppressed.

Confronted by an endless, tireless stream of illusory avatars, the Preceptor could only struggle to parry.

Even if he instantly obliterated them, more illusory avatars would swiftly emerge from the Eternal Xuanyang Realm.

Conversely, each of these avatars, before their demise, invariably managed to inflict a trace of harm upon the Preceptor.

Even if it was but a trace, it constituted a fatal wound that could not heal!

Gradually, black scars proliferated across the Preceptor's body.

Reflected by the terrifying black aura, the Preceptor's benevolent face appeared somewhat distorted.

Despite such a perilous situation,

the Preceptor remained calm.

He was contemplating the true nature of the illusory Xuanyang Realm before him.

Preceptor Tianzun's comprehension was beyond doubt.

His ability to forge a heaven-defying path of cultivation—one that defied the principles of heaven and earth to achieve longevity—was proof of his astounding talent, which illuminated the ages.

Moments before, when attacked by the Saint Emperor's Dao of Destruction and Creation, he instantly comprehended it and used it to counterattack, further demonstrating the terrifying depth of his understanding.

He even seemed to have gained some insight into the scattered remnants of True Immortal power throughout the star sea, and even the very essence of the High Wall.

Yet, only...

This Eternal Xuanyang Realm, suspended between illusion and reality,

remained inscrutable and impossible to fathom.

Being in the Grand Supreme realm himself, the Preceptor naturally knew that this power, at its limit, could not possibly conjure such a vast Xuanyang Realm from nothing.

Otherwise, he wouldn't have had to painstakingly mend worlds himself.

Yet before him, the oppressive might of the world's phantom felt utterly real.

Each imprint of past cultivators from the Xuanyang Realm felt utterly real.

The wounds inflicted upon him felt equally real.

What exactly...

A sharp glint flashed in the Preceptor's deep-set eyes. He seemed to be on the verge of understanding the answer.

However, a flash of sword light severed his tall crown,

thereby interrupting his line of thought.

Faced with the Saint Emperor's relentless, lethal attacks, his physical condition was no longer sufficient for him to continue observing and learning.

The Preceptor felt a hint of regret.

He had a premonition that if he could fully comprehend this great divine ability of the Eternal Xuanyang Realm, it would be immensely beneficial for the future recovery of the Xuanyang Realm, even for escaping the Immortal Ruins and traversing the High Wall.

Unfortunately, his opponent clearly had no intention of letting him succeed.

"Fellow Daoist's talent is truly unparalleled in the past ten thousand years."

"But to kill me..."

"You still fall short."

The Preceptor's expression turned solemn.

An aura of lethal intent, absent since the battle began, now surfaced in his eyes.

"To perish by this technique, fellow Daoist, is to die without regret."

The Preceptor, his body covered in scars, said faintly.

In front of the Eternal Xuanyang Realm, a rift suddenly appeared.

A thick arm, seemingly constructed from countless worlds, suddenly stretched out from the rift.

Bang! Bang!

Without hesitation, the arm of worlds directly and violently collided with the Eternal Xuanyang Realm.

The star-river tunnel vibrated from the impact.

The Eternal Xuanyang Realm, at present, was not truly eternal after all.

However, the arm of worlds summoned by the Preceptor was composed of actual worlds.

These were merely fragments of worlds, permeated with an aura of death and decay.

Under the brutal bombardment of countless world fragments, the phantom of the Eternal Xuanyang Realm became flickering and indistinct.

And the attacks from those illusory avatars were utterly harmless to these already annihilated worlds.

Even the residual True Immortal power on those world fragments gradually transferred to the Eternal Xuanyang Realm through the collisions between them.

Numerous black marks, symbolizing disaster, began to appear across the heavens and earth of the Eternal Xuanyang Realm.

Another arm, entirely composed of world fragments, appeared in a different corner of the Eternal Xuanyang Realm.

It charged wildly, aimed directly at the Saint Emperor standing within.

Wherever it passed, the illusory realm shattered with a thunderous crash,

Revealing the true, dark void beneath.

"Corpses of worlds..."

The Saint Emperor gazed at the approaching sight: a multitude of shattered worlds overlapping in his vision.

He saw the widespread ruins and occasional exposed bones scattered across them.

Before his eyes, the scene involuntarily arose: worlds shattering and cultivators turning to ash amidst agonizing screams of despair, as the ancient calamity descended.

"So many..."

The Saint Emperor's heart was stirred.

Witnessing the arm composed of world fragments, capable of sweeping everything away, about to engulf him,

a glimmer of light appeared before him.

"Dust to dust, ashes to ashes."

The light illuminated the Saint Emperor's benevolent face as he murmured incantations.

The moment the light touched those world fragments,

they miraculously evaporated into thin air, like melting ice and snow.

That brutally sweeping, formidable arm not only failed to harm the Saint Emperor in the slightest,

but nearly a hundred world fragments within it were directly disintegrated.

The long arm split open, forming a gap.

"Hmm?!"

This time, the Preceptor was genuinely astonished.

Gazing at the somewhat depleted arm of worlds, he quickly retracted it with a thought.

He stared at the Saint Emperor, who was enveloped in the protective light.

"This light is..."

Yet another incomprehensible element appeared before him.

The Preceptor narrowed his eyes, refraining from acting impulsively, and instead began to reconsider the opponent's true identity.

The Saint Emperor also seized this opportunity to rest.

After all, his continuous use of lethal techniques earlier, even with remote assistance from the Xuanyang Realm, had been an enormous drain on him.

The Eternal Xuanyang Realm was a grand world, both illusory and real, formed upon his comprehension of the principle that when truth acts as falsehood, falsehood also becomes true. It was further superimposed with the countless past and present luminaries of the Xuanyang Realm, as well as the myriad potential future talents deduced through his foresight.

In the Saint Emperor's calculations, if one's strength were sufficient, this Eternal Xuanyang Realm could be summoned from nothingness.

But at present, he clearly had not reached such a realm.

Even the summoned Xuanyang Realm Holy Spirits did not manifest with true power.

Only the trace of an attack they unleashed in an instant, or just before their demise, that could harm the Preceptor, would be imbued with the attribute of "reality."

Real damage.

Consequently, the Preceptor could not heal himself through conventional means.

Perhaps only by transforming these "real" injuries back into nothingness could the scars vanish from his body.

While considerable damage had indeed been inflicted upon the Preceptor, the Saint Emperor was not feeling well either.

From illusion to reality, the power consumed in this process far exceeded the Saint Emperor's imagination.

In a short span, the supporting power from the Xuanyang Realm had already been completely depleted.

This was also the fundamental reason why the Eternal Xuanyang Realm suddenly became vulnerable after the attack from the arm of world fragments.

The power support the Xuanyang Realm could offer had reached its limit.

What later helped the Saint Emperor overcome the challenge was another treasure from the fishing pond.

Like the Cat's Treasure, it had been fished out with very little accompanying information.

It appeared as nothing more than a bare white circle.

Yet, this seemingly unremarkable item had somehow filled the Cat's Treasure with annoyance and aversion.

After it was picked up, the Cat's Treasure did not follow.

However, as the Cat's Treasure had no combat function itself, the Saint Emperor ultimately decided to bring this white circle along.

As it turned out, the Saint Emperor's decision was correct.

The white circle had effectively saved his life.

The white circle had no known name, but when its light shone upon any inanimate object, it would be disintegrated into pure energy.

Living beings, however, remained unaffected.

Objects imbued with a cultivator's spiritual consciousness would still be disintegrated, but without causing any harm to the consciousness itself.

While it appeared somewhat limited in utility, it was, in fact, extremely potent.

The continuously sweeping arm of worlds, the instant it touched the white light, was entirely disintegrated into energy.

This replenished the Saint Emperor's energy depleted during combat.

The battle had now reached a stalemate.

Although the Preceptor's foundational power was far deeper than the Saint Emperor's, the Saint Emperor had managed to bridge this gap through numerous fortuitous encounters.

Being both in the Grand Supreme realm and having reached the limits of the star sea, it was not an easy task to swiftly determine life or death between the two of them.

Otherwise, it would be a blasphemy to the very title of Grand Supreme.

"Fellow Daoist, may I borrow the item in your hand for a moment?"

During a lull in the intense battle, the Preceptor made what seemed like an utterly preposterous request to the Saint Emperor.

"I merely wish to verify certain matters; I will return it after my observation," the Preceptor said with utmost seriousness.

The Saint Emperor fell silent.

After a long pause, the Saint Emperor extended his hand and tossed out the white circle.

The Preceptor nodded in acknowledgment, casually accepted the white circle, and began to examine it closely.

His eyebrows gradually rose, then he sighed softly, "What a pity."

He then, true to his word, returned the white circle to the Saint Emperor, fully intact.

Throughout this exchange, he made no attempt at a sneak attack.

"If my guess is correct, this item must originate from beyond the High Wall."

"Originally, I wondered if it could dismantle the High Wall. But I was mistaken..." the Preceptor scoffed at himself.

With a solemn expression, the Preceptor then looked at the Saint Emperor and asked for the first time, "Fellow Daoist, where are you truly from? Do you hail from beyond the High Wall?"

It was no wonder the Preceptor suddenly posed such a question.

After all, from his perspective, the Saint Emperor, being in the Grand Supreme realm and possessing numerous divine abilities, had appeared far too mysteriously.

The Saint Emperor promptly shook his head, refuting the Preceptor's conjecture.

"I am the Saint Emperor of Great Qi, mandated by Heaven."

"An incarnation of the Xuanyang Heavenly Dao."

"I seek to prop up the collapsing edifice, to turn the tide, and to uphold the true orthodoxy of Xuanyang!" the Saint Emperor declared with a solemn expression.

The Preceptor, however, keenly detected the scent of a conspiracy in his words.

"An incarnation of the Xuanyang Heavenly Dao..."

"If the Xuanyang Heavenly Dao were as formidable as you, how could it have fallen to its current predicament?"

"Forgive my frankness, but relying solely on one Xuanyang Realm, it would be utterly impossible to birth a figure such as yourself," the Preceptor declared with a flickering gaze, speaking with absolute certainty.

Hearing this, the Saint Emperor couldn't help but fall silent.

"As we two contend, it is likely that someone malevolent is scheming in the shadows."

"I urge Fellow Daoist to reconsider, lest you fall into another's trap," the Preceptor added.

"This individual, capable of cultivating a figure such as yourself, must undoubtedly be powerful. Yet, they have consistently remained hidden in the background..."

A fierce glint flashed in the Preceptor's eyes: "Their ambitions are vast."

"How about we two join forces to first uncover this individual?" the Preceptor suggested.

Upon hearing the Preceptor's words, the Saint Emperor genuinely began to ponder the suggestion seriously.

Although his conviction to save the Xuanyang Realm had never wavered, as his strength increased, he harbored growing doubts about his true origins.

Especially after verifying that his bloodline originated from a mixture of three families, his inner confusion reached its peak then.

He had merely suppressed it with his absolute conviction.

But at this moment, under the persuasion of Preceptor Tianzun, these once-quelled thoughts reignited.

The Preceptor continued, "I can truly understand your feelings, fellow Daoist."

"You see, if not for my painstaking efforts over all these years to mend the Xuanyang Realm, this last sanctuary in the darkest star sea would likely have long since fallen into the Immortal Ruins."

The Preceptor waved his hand, and countless images appeared before the Saint Emperor.

They depicted the Preceptor soaring through the void, carrying world fragments that still held a flicker of vitality on his back.

Even though he had long known of the Preceptor's deeds for the Xuanyang Realm,

upon witnessing the Preceptor's resolute gaze and solitary journey through the cold, star-filled sky, the Saint Emperor was still touched by a hint of emotion.

"Although our preferred methods differ, ultimately, both you and I are striving for that world," the Preceptor said, pointing to the distant Xuanyang Realm.

"However, the person behind this... that's not necessarily true," the Preceptor's tone grew somewhat cold.

"If we contend, one of us will surely be harmed. Moreover, during our battle, this hidden individual might even perform nefarious deeds within the Xuanyang Realm."

"Can you rest assured, Fellow Daoist, that this person will remain concealed within the Xuanyang Realm even after you perish?"

"At any rate, I would not be at ease," Preceptor Tianzun said, his tone filled with chilling resolve.

The Saint Emperor's expression also darkened.

He felt that Preceptor Tianzun made a valid point.

From the act of borrowing the white circle for observation and then returning it in its entirety, the Preceptor had already demonstrated his character.

As for the one instigating from behind, their equally despicable nature had long been clear.

A decisive battle with the Preceptor could take place at any time.

But if both he and the Preceptor were gravely wounded,

this hidden mastermind might truly get what they wished for.

The Preceptor, discerning the shift in the Saint Emperor's resolve, nodded slightly.

He then began to inquire with the Saint Emperor about the full details of the matter.

"No memory, suddenly appeared in the world."

"Subtle connections, bloodline ties..."

As the Saint Emperor described, the Preceptor's expression underwent subtle changes.

Subsequently, the atmosphere between the two subtly shifted from hostility to gradual harmony.

"To expose the person behind this, it is both difficult and not difficult."

"Since there's a bloodline connection, I possess a secret technique that can sense all individuals related by blood within a certain range. However, this person is cunning and calculating; they are likely no longer in the Xuanyang Realm," the Preceptor stated.