Former Interstellar Mercenary In Urban Cultivation World
Chapter 948: The Path of Ying and Yang And The Path of Chaos (Part 4)

Chapter 948: The Path of Ying and Yang And The Path of Chaos (Part 4)

A blazing cry burst from a fire phoenix, soaring into the nine heavens before transforming into a fierce sun.

A fissure split the ground beneath, dividing it in two, with countless people and beasts falling into the chasm, piling up in an ever-growing mass of bodies.

This eventually became the Sanguine Sea—a burial ground of countless immortals and beasts.

The piece of land that broke away became the Ten Thousand Floating Island.

Amalia saw a massive Pixiu—no, it was the legendary Nine Heaven Pixiu, leading its kin into battle against the immortals. In the end, they perished together.

The remaining Nine Heaven Pixiu tried to flee, only to be betrayed by former allies, suffering heavy losses and facing relentless pursuit.

Just as Amalia wanted to see more, she blinked and found herself back in that dark corridor.

There were no fire phoenixes, no waterfall, no immortals, and no Nine Heaven Pixiu.

Standing still, Amalia pondered, questioning if this was the truth behind the Immortal War.

Did the conflict between immortals and beasts ignite the battle?

Yet, she distinctly saw immortals fighting among themselves with a ferocity equal to that against the beasts.

What was that collapsed "waterfall"? She had noticed that what fell from the heavens wasn’t water but a type of energy.

If her intuition was correct, everything originated from the collapse of that "waterfall."

However, the information she gathered was incomplete; th fragments left her in confusion, unable to discern the full truth behind the Immortal War.

Still unable to piece together the war’s cause, Amalia looked forward and continued walking, hoping that more answers lay ahead.

Without illusions clouding her vision, she noticed the walls adorned with carvings depicting scenes of people.

These engravings weren’t a continuation of the visions but rather a prelude—a glimpse into a grand era of prosperity.

Back then, the "waterfall" had yet to collapse, and life resembled that on the Mystic Void Continent—peaceful yet full of hidden scheming.

This mirror image persisted until the "waterfall" fell, and the world changed in an instant, then abruptly halted.

By now, Amalia had reached the end of the corridor, facing a small black door.

Approaching, she gently pushed it open, and a gust of wind swept over her. Looking back, the corridor had vanished.

Turning back forward, she found herself in a blinding sandstorm, surrounded by whirling sands that obscured any view of the outside.

There was no path to return; her only choice was to push through the fierce winds. She walked for an entire day and night, yet the storm persisted.

Just as she was about to lose hope, she noticed a glimmer of light in the distance. With renewed strength, she surged forward, dashing towards that beacon of hope.

After running for another full day and night, Amalia finally stopped as the swirling sands around her suddenly ceased.

She saw at last what that glimmer of light was: it resembled a small, radiant sun, enshrouded in golden light, floating in midair and emitting a deep, resonant chime.

It was a golden bell, casting rings of golden light. Behind it stood a shadowy figure, its voice echoing around her, boundless and distant, as though speaking right into her ear.

"Great sound is silent; great form is formless. The Dao is hidden, unnamed. Only the Dao can begin and complete..."

As the shadow spoke, the bell reverberated with a steady, rhythmic tone.

Before Amalia could fully grasp the meaning, her surroundings faded again.

She now stood in a desolate ruin, gazing up at a nearby ridge. After climbing it, she was met with the sight of a vast, endless plain scattered with grave mounds—a sight both solemn and overwhelming.

From where she stood, she couldn’t see the end of the mounds. As she moved closer, she noticed each grave had a stone marker, inscribed with nothing but a date.

Most dates were nearly identical, differing by only a day or two.

If her assumption was correct, these dates marked the Immortal War, when someone had erected these gravestones to honor fallen immortals and beasts.

How did she know some of these graves were for beasts? Because beneath some of the stones, she could see fragments of beast skeletons.

The air here was thick with negative emotions, an oppressive, haunting atmosphere.

Feeling there was nothing else to see, Amalia turned to leave, but the faint sound of footsteps stopped her in her tracks, growing louder, as if approaching her.

Although she hadn’t gone far, when she looked back, the ridge had disappeared. She seemed to be at the center of the graves now, surrounded by rows of tombstones exuding an eerie presence.

The footsteps abruptly stopped, sending a chill up her spine. Turning around, she found herself face-to-face with a gaunt, shriveled face, causing her to stumble back in shock.

The old lady’s face was parched and withered, her whole body dried and thin, with cloudy yet intense eyes fixed on her.

"You made it here... so you must have the Chaos-type spiritual veins."

A voice rasped from her mouth, as though it hadn’t spoken in thousands of years, each word slow and awkward, as if speech was a struggle.

"What Chaos-type spiritual veins? Are you... a survivor of the Immortal War?" Amalia asked warily.

The old lady’s figure vanished, reappearing instantly at her side, her bony hand gripping her wrist.

"You’re not... or maybe... yes, you are the Chaos-type spiritual veins."

Muttering to herself, she released her wrist before she could break free, stepping back a few meters, her sunken, dark eyes still locked on her.

"Although you’re only half-complete, it’s better than nothing. It seems that person has brought you here, so... it must be you."

"That person?" Amalia asked, utterly confused, still unable to make sense of anything. "Perhaps you’re mistaken, Senior. I am not this Chaos-type spiritual veins you speak of."

"You are," the old lady finally responded, dismissing her doubts with an unyielding tone. "Do you even know where you are, kid?"

"A graveyard," Amalia answered.

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