Chapter 00241: Hell and the Primordial
# Hell and the Primordial
Chapter 241
Novel: Above Destiny
Chapter 241: Hell and the Primordial
“Have you made your decision, Master Tao?”
In the quiet afternoon of days long past, the old craftsman, leaning on his cane, sighed softly. “Once this step is taken, there will be no room left for regret.”
“Regret?”
The aged Celestial let out a weary breath, as if mocking himself with a faint smile. “It’s a feeling I haven’t experienced in a very long time.”
The craftsman fell silent.
Tao Cheng gazed blankly at the sunlight outside the window for a long moment. “You say, if Quancheng can be saved, do you really think it could atone for the mistakes committed before?”
“For a craftsman, notions of right and wrong don’t truly matter.”
“But for me, they matter deeply.”
Tao Cheng turned and looked at him. “I can’t just keep making mistake after mistake.”
“I will do my best.”
The craftsman nodded, stepping aside to clear the path. “You have to understand: whether you succeed or fail, from now on you will likely become a vessel for the Primordial, enduring endless torment, living in hell.”
“Hell?”
Tao Cheng snapped back to attention, his gaze drawn to the glowing flames rising in the furnace.
The fire burned ceaselessly, dancing wildly.
It illuminated his pupils.
As reality returned, he straightened his frail body, unable to suppress a joyous laugh.
“That couldn’t be better!”
And so, head held high, he strode into the blaze and the inferno.
Never to be seen again.
.
The firelight in memories dispersed.
The wind that rushed against his face made the world seem to spin.
Everything was rising.
Rushing toward him.
The breeze was so pleasant.
He had never imagined that the scenery during a fall could feel so delightful.
In a daze, it seemed as if neon lights flickered on beneath the night sky, the roaring wind howled past, and the bustling noises of streets remained, distant voices and wails carried on the wind.
Horse-drawn carts and busy roads.
Just like many years ago...
“A lifetime wandering, and it all comes back here.”
He whispered softly, a smile forming amidst the wrinkles on his weathered face. “Everyone, have you been well?”
No one answered.
Quancheng lay dead silent, like a corpse, bathed in pitch-black rain.
Not a single gentle light remained.
So cold and indifferent.
Why did it have to be connected to this place?
Even he couldn’t understand.
He had merely grown tired of dealing with those people in Zhongcheng, decided on a whim to travel far away with no purpose or direction, just wandering about.
He liked the seaside climate but couldn’t stand the humidity, so he settled temporarily in Quancheng.
Just a few days’ stay.
No close friends or cherished memories; nothing truly worth loving or longing for—everything was simply plain and ordinary.
Until the days he thought would last forever unexpectedly collapsed and were destroyed without warning.
Should he leave?
He should go, should resolutely sever ties and run far away.
He hesitated.
And when his heart was torn by that hesitation, it was already too late.
A single minute.
Just one minute.
So, perhaps everything that could have been saved drifted away utterly because of his hesitation.
They all died.
The banyan tree bleached in the sun, quiet and deep alleys, the honking horns on the street, the school’s loudspeakers, crowded streets, the clerks dozing behind counters, fishermen squatting by the river at dead of night waiting in vain—all, along with this city itself.
All that peaceful, boring normalcy disappeared.
That dull, bland life that, to everyone then, was more precious than any treasure — ended right there.
What remained were screams and cries, ringing forever in his ears...
“Save me... please save me.”
Such voices, soaked in tears with no one to answer, buried deep in darkness.
“I’m sorry.”
Even apologies and pleas became meaningless.
From that day forth, he lived in a hell called shame.
All sacrifices and heroic acts, all endurance and mercy, were trivial compared to such pain.
Since waking up until now, these many years, he had never dared return here.
He feared recognizing himself amid countless weathered corpses—his face twisted beyond recognition.
Yet at this moment, as the high Celestial fell from the sky, he felt an incredible calm.
The weight of the earth called him, and all that he could never save seemed to return once more.
No more torment or shame.
Such peace.
As he fell apart and dissolved slowly, he bathed in the rushing wind, spreading his arms for the last time.
In that instant, everything seemed different.
The afternoon cicadas chirped once again, bustling streets were crowded, a warm damp breeze blew, carrying the scent of grass and ocean.
Among the crowd, a traveler who had been gone for many years carried his pack, looking around in confusion.
He raised his head and looked at everything before him.
Gradually, realization dawned.
“Hey, these really are good times...”
Tao Cheng smiled, closing his eyes.
Let the tides sound.
Blowing away the old days.
.
Tick, tock.
A crisp sound rang out.
On the day the Celestial dissolved, dazzling tides spread and scattered in countless threads, illuminating everything buried in the long darkness.
Thus, everything seemed to gain color once more.
Azure bricks, collapsed gray office buildings, dust-covered yellow signs, cobwebbed black ruins, pale bones, and wicked rain flowing like blood.
Finally, as the brilliant light faded, the last remnants fell to the earth.
Like pure drops of dew,
so light,
a dazzling trail cleaved the night and vanished into the ground.
From the deathly silence rose waves and crashings like tsunamis!
From the gentle dripping, a golden flood surged, spreading in all directions—majestic and vast.
In that moment, the last weight on the scales fell.
Lu Changsheng wanted to stop it, but it was already too late.
Even the sins of the living could not undo a Celestial’s final sacrifice.
Boom!
Lu Changsheng’s body shuddered sharply.
The horrific fracturing echoed across the heavens.
It was like a mountain of human sin suddenly appeared from nowhere, bending under a tremendous burden, almost impossible to sustain.
Light raced and washed over all existence like a tidal wave.
Boom!
Among the Four Heads, one voiceless face suddenly cracked, spreading fissures.
He roared furiously.
Helpless to escape the terror suddenly pressing down, yet unable to let go...
It was just one person’s death, a mere fragment bought with his burnt-out spirit, yet instantly the situation reversed and turned upside down!
Like the straw that broke the camel’s back.
At this moment, Tao Cheng’s final soul was completely burned out, his remainder wedged like a keystone into the corrupted Quancheng, fusing into the city itself.
Then, ever since Tao Cheng hastily ascended to Celestial, the assimilation from the Primordial spread in the embers of creation carefully prepared for who knows how many years, expanding in all directions!
When even a single drop of poison falls into the elixir of supreme goodness, all is lost.
Yet now, as the supreme elixir surfaces amid rolling toxins, nothing can remain pure.
This was Master Tao’s final plan.
From the beginning, he had prepared— even if only himself remained, even at the cost of all else, even ceasing to exist in the world — he would finish what remained unfinished!
For that, he did not hesitate to use the Primordial’s assimilation to elevate himself, becoming the vessel of supreme grace...
Now, after days of tireless probing and relentless struggle, Tao Cheng’s human flame was extinguished utterly, and his soul, his matrix, his very being were absorbed by the Primordial’s assimilation, becoming a part of supreme grace!
Together with the entire corrupted Quancheng!
At this moment, with Tao Cheng’s passing, the Primordial’s laws not only showed no fracture or slackening but grew all the more stable and grand with magnificent blazing light.
It all poured down upon Quancheng.
Eradicating all corruption, suppressing every distortion.
For Lu Changsheng, who clung to Quancheng and the vortex like rivets, there was now no respite—only the desperate effort to hold up this sudden terrible weight.
Just as Tao Cheng had borne at Quancheng’s fall!
This is the weight of the present world!
With my broken body, I dedicate it to the Primordial!
Everything from here on is yours...
From the howling gale came the laughter of the dead.
“Such trivial worldly evils are nothing, Lu Changsheng! Now it’s your turn to experience the burden of holding up the sky!”
“Master Tao, even in death, never gave me this demon bastard any respect...”
Lu Changsheng screamed, struggling to hold up the descending blaze and yelled at the long-dead elder into the void, “Do you think this burden is any easier for me?”
No reply from the dead.
The sins of the living roared.
One by one, arms emerged from the shifting rainbow light, forcibly shackling the flowing blaze, locking everything above the dark clouds.
Clash of forces—holding up the Primordial’s assimilating light!
But in that instant, with the distant crashing of collapse, the great sin’s body trembled violently.
Its spine bent down once more... just a little!
Lu Changsheng looked back.
From wrath, clarity dawned.
Just now, inside Quancheng, many pillars formed by the reinforced higher sins collapsed—one after another!
“Following Master Tao’s orders, we reclaim Quancheng today!”
As the countless flowing lights fell like tears from the sky, Lü Yingyue withdrew her gaze from the heavens, picking up her communicator.
“All units advance, kill every demon without mercy! Retreaters, hesitators, those who hide anything—kill them all!”
Her cold, solemn voice echoed in every chosen one's ears, bringing a bloody edict and order:
“When I die, Tong Ting will succeed me in Cliff City; after Tong Ting, Jiang Fei in Ship City... no retreat, advance only! —With the blood of evil fools, we offer a sacrificial rite for Master Tao!”
No one answered.
The channel fell silent.
What resounded through Quancheng was countless roars and howls.
The blazing light rolled like a tide, illuminating faces smeared with blood.
From grief, fright, and fury arose only murderous intent and ferocity.
The Primordial’s sword once again sheathed aflame with blood, the Celestials’ lingering radiance shone everywhere!
Inside the temporary command tent, dead silence reigned.
Even with Lü Yingyue turning off the radio, no sound came.
From the distant thunder and shaking, faint trembling breaths echoed faintly from corners.
Several times, envoys from Zhongcheng opened their mouths to speak, but no words emerged.
First Tao Cheng’s death, then Lü Yingyue’s presentation of Master Tao’s will and her unilateral takeover of control—the pace was too fast, smooth as flowing clouds, as if it had been arranged long ago.
Yet the mighty authority of Haizhou’s garrison was handed over so privately that even killing him wouldn’t make it unseen.
Just when he was about to speak, Lü Yingyue’s cold gaze swept over him.
“Don’t worry, I have authorization.”
She said, “According to federation precedent, with the garrison commander dead and crisis at hand, the cities in this province may vote and elect on their own. The signatures are all here.”
She flicked over a thin sheet of paper. “If the format’s off, let Xu Chao come rewrite it for you!”
The envoy hastily caught it, trembling hands carefully inspecting.
He saw those already signed names, then at the last seal and mark, blood filled his mouth uncontrollably.
“This... is this really... prudent...?” he asked hesitantly.
“Is it?”
Lü Yingyue turned back, eyes glinting coldly.
At her feet lay a severed head she had just cut down, face filthy with mud, still faintly showing a girl’s features—but without that twisted charm that once warped reality.
“At this point, does Zhongcheng really have any opinions on Haizhou’s situation?”
Lü Yingyue asked.
The envoy fell silent, trembling like a ghost.
“That’s right.”
Lü Yingyue nodded, waving her hand impatiently.
“Since there’s nothing else to say, gentlemen, you needn’t trouble yourselves over our remote borders.”
Bang!
The skull of an evil creature shattered beneath her boot.
Lü Yingyue pushed open the door, stepping into the blood-red torrent of the battlefield, leaving only her final words behind:
“Haizhou’s affairs shall be handled by Haizhou itself!”
“Hahaha, ha ha ha ha... Die, die, die, die! Die for me!”
Blood mist and sinful streams writhed, cracked, and exploded!
Laughter never ceased from between the collapsed buildings as the massive altar crumbled piece by piece.
That fractured figure raised a hand toward the void, and then tens of thousands of bolts of lightning converged, forged from shifting spiritual matter, slicing through the air!
Amidst drifting dust, the sacred statue shattered.
Corrupted beings blocking the path were turned to ashes in the flood of lightning.
The blessings and pillars left by the higher sins shattered completely under relentless bombardment!
But the laughter did not stop.
Countless crystallized thunderbolts hurled themselves out, reducing all in sight to ruins, evaporating them into ashes and dust!
As footsteps approached beneath a collapsed wall, a shrill, terrified voice cried out: “Liu... Liu Yanyue!!!”
“Hm? You know me?”
Liu Yanyue’s ‘steps’ halted.
She looked down with disdain at the dying corrupted creature.
She examined the fear, despair, and shock in his pupils, then sneered:
“What? Just disfigured? You still can’t recognize me?”
His legs and left arm had originally been severed at the root.
But now, incredibly, they were restored—reshaped with his own spiritual matter like pure white crystal, faintly showing blood flowing inside.
A menacing scar crossed the youthful face.
The eyes, the most important for spiritual shaping, had returned to their original places!
Though somewhat misaligned due to crude transplantation...
From the harsh surgery tears of blood and sweat slowly slid from his eyes, turning that childish smile into something ferocious, like a beast.
“Ugly, yes. But this hopeless nephew who cried and whined for over twenty years finally grew up once. As his aunt, I can’t let his hard work go to waste…”
She tapped the borrowed eyes with a finger, then suddenly asked:
“Where’s Jianyuan? Where’s Ji Jue?”
In the ruins, the buried face froze for a moment, then burst into wild joy.
“I...”
Boom!
Lightning blades converged and struck down.
In an instant, no bones remained.
“Lies.”
Liu Yanyue withdrew her gaze indifferently, surveying the surroundings.
They weren’t here...
But that’s fine.
There are still so many places in the city.
One by one, they will be hunted and killed.
One by one, he will be found.
In the swirling dust, she looked up and walked into the spreading war and chaos.
Everywhere she passed was stained crimson.
“Brother Shan, what do you think we should do when we return?”
In a quiet hallway, the sound of dripping water echoed.
Tong Shan’s steps hesitated briefly.
He wanted to say that when working, they should use official titles, when doing chores call the team leader, call by code name—he had emphasized it many times, why did they never listen?
But at this moment, he didn’t dare look up.
He murmured, “Anything will do.”
Then Jiang Xuan laughed.
“When the time comes, we’ll all drink a few more cups together.”
“Mm.”
Tong Shan responded sluggishly.
“The flowers on the balcony, send them to Xu Guan, and if you get a chance, thank little Ji for me. Also saved some money, donate to the orphanage or to Dayu, call it poverty relief…”
Jiang Xuan babbled on, leaning against the wall to prop himself up.
Blood dripped slowly from the wound across his chest, pooling lightly on the floor, twisting and spreading...
“I can’t move anymore.”
The corner of Jiang Xuan’s mouth twitched.
Softly, he said, “The rest... is up to you.”
Tong Shan said nothing.
He only heard his friend’s final farewell.
“You should go, Brother Shan.”
He said. “There’s still a road ahead.”
The moment he turned, Tong Shan couldn’t help but look back.
But on that cracked face was only a bright smile, no shadow or gloom.
Just like saying goodbye after clocking out at work.
Light and relieved.
Tong Shan paused, then nodded slowly.
“Goodbye.”
Jiang Xuan laughed quietly, listening to footsteps fade away.
He closed his eyes and waited quietly.
Until chaotic footsteps came rushing down the hall like a storm.
When the corrupted beings burst in, they saw that bold and joyful smile beckoning to them for one last time.
“Today I am a stubborn stone.”
“Please, everyone, trip here for me!”
In that instant, a violent roar burst to the heavens, countless steel lights poured like a torrential rain, spreading in all directions, piercing and tearing all in their path.
The thunderous sound echoed, carried by the raging wind to the distance.
Bones cracked.
“Die!”
Tang Qian roared, pulling an axe from a shattered skull.
Turning, he swept, splitting mid-waist, then grabbed a piercing blade with great effort.
His six broken arms held no weapons.
Even one leg was severed.
But it didn’t matter...
His bloodied face twisted into a grin, then he opened his mouth—
Biting into the unprotected throat.
Tearing!
Then a pack of roaring bloodthirsty devils tore the last opponents’ necks apart.
Blood sprayed, staining their pale faces red.
“Boss, it’s all ambush up ahead.”
He wheezed, clutching a crude counterfeit coin.
“Retreat. I still have two ancestors to call on. They’ll keep you safe!”
Tong Shan said nothing.
Only propped against the shattered flagpole, staggering forward.
He pressed a blood-stained finger onto a pre-written IOU, handing it over with both hands:
“Dayu and A Xue, please take care of them.”
Tang Qian fell silent, glanced back at the dying siblings, then bit his teeth and nodded.
Tong Shan smiled.
“Protect them well.”
He looked back toward the sacred hall shrouded in shadows.
“I’ll be back soon.”
Inside the vast sacred hall, savage energy soared...
Alert signals rang out.
The chosen warriors rushed in, defending the great sin pillars of Quancheng.
Closing their eyes, one could feel the sins at the heart—Heart Core Sin: Weiyang; Entropy Sin: Youshuang; Aether Sin: Polluted...
Three rebirths, seven transformations, and twenty-nine summons!
Good, very fair.
One on one.
The Primordial alone against a nest of snakes and rats!
He laughed silently, dragging the flagpole, striding toward the gaping darkness ahead.
Darkness swallowed his figure.
Never to be seen again.
The earth shook fiercely.
Above the sky, the blazing star burned away the darkness, hanging once more.
Moments later, the scarlet starwheel churned violently.
Black ink-like blotches appeared from nowhere, spreading to pollute, distort, rewrite until the grand vision collapsed.
Responding to the higher sins’ divine core, thick rain of corruption poured from the sky, covering all.
Countless threads, stretching in a line, like a curtain hiding all.
But soon, the curtain trembled violently amid the silent tidal wave, boiling and scattering everywhere, unable to stay whole.
“First one? So soon?”
Tang Qian turned sharply.
His expression shifted to shock.
“The second one...!”
Boom!
The sacred hall cracked open, blood-red tornadoes shot forth, coloring the air scarlet, countless bone fragments and flesh flew everywhere.
And from the suppression of the higher sins, the originally dried-up psychic power surged like a tide again.
No longer caring for accuracy or refinement, recklessly wasting power—even if it meant tearing himself apart.
The whole world froze.
The corrupt rain froze midair, no longer changing.
Then, a crisp shattering sound rang out.
—The third one!
In the hall’s darkness, the dome collapsed with a roar.
Countless fragments rained down like a storm.
Lights flickered, lighting up the sea of blood and mud.
Everywhere was crimson.
Everything in sight was broken limbs, bloodstains, and ruined rubble.
Like a storm that passed through, crushing every fool and knave to mud!
At this moment, the last surviving chief priest sat stunned on the ground, retreating backward with arms and legs, ignoring her bleeding wounds, retreating beneath the sacred statue with nowhere left to run!
No matter how she called, no divine power from the higher sins appeared.
It was as if utterly forsaken.
Condemned by the very gods they worshipped into true hell!
All that was heard were cracking sounds from the nightmare’s depths.
Carefully, precisely, without fault, crushing all rebels one by one, piece by piece, thread by thread...
“Hm? There’s still one more...”
In the darkness, a stooped figure staggered forward.
Carrying those two bodies pierced through and broken blades, step by step, he walked over the bones.
Walking with a broken, staggering gait, like crawling, crossing blood and corpses.
Toward him, step by step.
Until that dreadful figure was lit by fading light...
Like forcibly stitching shattered corpses by psychic force to maintain integrity and reactivate.
No one knew how many times this figure had been destroyed and pieced back together.
Beneath crossed cracks, broken organs already displaced, twisted fractured legs propped up with pulled-out rebar.
Under corrupt pollution, black blood seeped slowly from the neck wounds, dripping and sizzling on the ground.
Only on the exposed skeletal face, the eyes burned with flames fiercer than hell.
Staring fiercely at the last enemy before him.
“There’s still one more.”
“Huff... huff...”
The chief priest struggled violently, eyes wide, but her neck felt as if locked by invisible iron pincers, shrinking inch by inch, her cries and sobs fading.
Click.
A faint sound.
Silence.
Boom!
With the shattering of bones, the sacred hall groaned as its last pillars collapsed.
Countless fragments fell, piling up beside Tong Shan, but he did not stop.
Using hands and feet, he climbed the mountain of piled corpses.
Until the shattered sacred statue lay beneath his feet!
He stood at the very top of the sacred hall...
Looking back at the swaying world behind him.
Under the shadow of the vortex, corruption rained down, splashing and flooding everything.
The ruined city fell into chaos again, cries and laments rising like tides, as if the apocalypse was repeating anew.
Everything was slowly sinking.
Falling toward a hell without light.
For an instant, his lips twitched as he tried to roar with all his might.
But even with all his strength, there was no echo.
So he held his breath.
Summoning his last strength, he lifted the flag once more, facing the dark chaos before him, the turbulent world.
The tattered banner stabbed like a nail into the sacred statue.
Despite the howling wind and splashing corrupt rain, the flag dyed red with the blood of demons fluttered and snapped like fire, radiating brilliant flame.
Here, it proclaimed loudly to all:
—The flag of the Primordial still stands tall over this world!
(End of chapter)