Chapter 1300: Like an Invasive Species, All Winds and Clouds Gather at the Imperial Immortal Palace
Chapter 1300: Like an Invasive Species, All Winds and Clouds Gather at the Imperial Immortal Palace
"Oh? Are you referring to my mother?"
Nan Qing lifted her teacup, lowering her gaze to blow lightly on the steam. Her long lashes trembled slightly, her tone indifferent.
"No," Ling Yuling shook her head.
She didn't know why, but as she looked at Nan Qing before her, she inexplicably thought of that figure.
Was it because their manner of speaking was somewhat similar? That same casual, careless air, as if nothing in the world mattered to them.
The thought made Ling Yuling feel foolish. How could she possibly connect the two?
Yet, as she studied Nan Qing's flawless, exquisite features, perhaps because of the earlier association, she couldn't help but notice a faint resemblance in the arch of her brows and the shape of her eyes.
"Has your mother ever spoken to you about your father?" Ling Yuling found herself asking, as if compelled by some unseen force.
At these words, Nan Qing's hand paused mid-air, and she slowly set down her teacup. "...No, never."
Ling Yuling nodded and didn't press further on the subject.
Carefully storing away the ancient manuscript, she prepared to take her leave. But before departing, she hesitated, then turned back to Nan Qing.
"If we fail this time, it would prove your earlier suspicions correct. If that hidden force in the shadows truly seeks to eradicate every last descendant of those former allies, then the peace here won't last much longer..."
"You should prepare yourself."
Nan Qing gave a slight nod, her expression unreadable, as if the warning meant nothing to her.
After Ling Yuling left, Nan Qing picked up the teacup again, idly tracing its rim with her fingers. Her clear, luminous eyes flickered with contemplation.
"...Is there really a resemblance?"
Suddenly, the corner of her lips curved upward.
Her already breathtakingly beautiful features—delicate as a painting, flawless as jade—seemed to glow with an even more mesmerizing allure.
But just as quickly, her face smoothed back into serenity. She rose to her feet, her green robes fluttering in the mountain wind, her long hair swirling like mist, as if she might vanish with the breeze at any moment.
Her gaze swept down toward the foot of the Sacred Ancestor Mountain, where the vast expanse of the Great Wasteland stretched endlessly. There, a young man of extraordinary bearing was locked in fierce combat with several ferocious, primordial beasts.
Ancient trees had been reduced to splinters, mountains pulverized into dust, and the earth was scarred with fissures spanning tens of thousands of miles.
Within the bounds of the Sacred Ancestor Mountain, all cultivators—even those at the Dao Realm—found their power suppressed, their strength no greater than that of ordinary Immortal Dao practitioners from the outside world.
Yet this young man fought evenly against multiple terrifying primordial beasts, his prowess undeniable.
"Born with divine strength capable of contending with a True Dragon... yet after all this time, his Pan Clan Bloodline still remains dormant..."
Nan Qing's voice was cool, her gaze detached as she observed the young man, murmuring to herself.
As the sun set and the moon rose, she remained atop the peak, watching him battle wave after wave of primordial beasts, honing himself relentlessly despite his injuries, as if he sought death itself.
In the throes of these brutal clashes, the young man fought like a man possessed—his fists and palms striking wildly, his limbs moving with unrestrained, chaotic power. There was no technique, no formality, just raw, unbridled force.
Yet he stood like an undefeated war god, his battle intent soaring to the heavens, growing fiercer with every exchange.
A seething aura of blood and energy surged from his pores, erupting in radiant, divine light. Despite his modest cultivation, he fought on par with beasts that wielded at least Quasi-Immortal Emperor strength, wounding them, terrifying them.
Then, at last, a towering, majestic figure began to materialize behind him—a colossal silhouette that seemed to bear the weight of the heavens and earth. In its grasp was a terrifying axe, and above its head hovered an ancient, indistinct pool, hazy and ethereal.
With a single swing of its axe, the figure cleaved forward—as if splitting apart the Myriad Ages, warping time and space, annihilating all chaos in its wake.
The axe's radiance was blinding, its destructive force absolute.
"DIE!"
The young man roared, his voice merging with the towering figure behind him. Though his hands were empty, it was as if he too now gripped an axe—and with a furious cry, he brought it down in a devastating slash.
Splurt!
Blood sprayed violently, stark against the cold night.
The monstrous primordial beasts didn't even have time to scream before they were split cleanly in two. Their skulls—hardened beyond measure—shattered like glass, their divine souls obliterated on the spot.
"The Pool of Creation..."
Atop the peak, Nan Qing's figure trembled slightly, her eyes locked onto the young man.
Her breathing grew slightly uneven, a glimmer of light flickering in her gaze.
To be precise, it wasn't the young man she was fixated on—but the ancient, mist-shrouded pool floating above the colossal figure behind him.
For the first time, a trace of barely restrained excitement flashed across Nan Qing's face. But she quickly steadied herself, inhaling deeply until her composure returned.
"Tiea, bring Zhu Xuan back to the Ancestral Sage Pavilion. Inform Elder Zhu that he collapsed from exhaustion during his battle with the beasts and will recover after some rest." Her voice was calm, measured.
"Understood, Mistress."
The void rippled, and a young woman with her hair tied in a maid's bun materialized, bowing respectfully.
In a streak of divine light, she sped toward the Great Wasteland.
After his battle with the primordial beasts, the young man—Zhu Xuan—had already collapsed unconscious amidst the ruins.
"After waiting so long... I've finally found the Pool of Creation. The last remnant of the Pan Clan Bloodline truly did manifest in him."
"Without him... it seems the Pool would remain forever beyond reach."
"The Pan Clan Ancestors went to great lengths to keep it from falling into others' hands."
Nan Qing withdrew her gaze from the wasteland. With a light step, her figure dissipated like a wisp of smoke, as if she had never been there at all.
Among the First-Generation Civilisation Supreme Treasures with known traces or whereabouts, only the Mirror of Reincarnation, the Gate of Eternal Life, and the World Burying Coffin remain.
Now, at last, there are some clues regarding the Pool of Creation as well.
The next day, inside the Holy Ancestor Pavilion, Zhu Xuan awoke with a throbbing headache, rubbing his temples as piercing sunlight streamed through the window, forcing him to squint.
At this moment, his entire body felt as though every bone had been shattered, each pore screaming with searing pain.
What exactly happened last night? he wondered. I only remember battling those ancient vicious beasts—fighting with everything I had, more freely than I had in years. Then, a sharp pain shot through my head, and everything after that is blank.
How did I end up in the Holy Ancestor Pavilion? Did Grandfather bring me back?
Rubbing his forehead, Zhu Xuan muttered to himself, unable to recall the events of the previous night clearly.
All he remembered was engaging in a fierce battle with several ancient vicious beasts in the Great Wasteland beneath the Holy Ancestor Mountain, honing his combat skills.
But what was the outcome of that battle?
And why was he now back in the Holy Ancestor Pavilion?
Wait...
A vague figure flickered in his memory—someone who had guided his combat techniques, teaching him the Method of Opening the Heavens. That person had even spoken to him...
But who was he?
Hiss—
The more Zhu Xuan tried to recall, the sharper the pain in his head became, as if his skull were about to split open. He sucked in a sharp breath, his face paling from the agony.
"You exhausted yourself last night. Don't move recklessly now—just rest."
A rich medicinal fragrance suddenly filled the air as an elderly man, not particularly old in appearance, stepped inside carrying a bowl of medicine. He clicked his tongue in disapproval as he walked.
"I told you, you little brat, not to cause trouble. Yet last night, it was Tiea from the Holy Ancestor Mountain who personally brought you back. Nan Qing even specially instructed me to prepare some spirit herbs and immortal materials to replenish your body..."
"Grandfather..."
Seeing Elder Zhu enter, Zhu Xuan scratched the back of his head sheepishly. But when he caught the latter part of his grandfather's words, surprise and delight flashed across his face.
"Wait—Grandfather, did you say Tiea was the one who brought me back?"
Ignoring the pain, he scrambled up from the bed and grabbed Elder Zhu's arm tightly.
"To be precise, it was Nan Qing who instructed Tiea to bring you back. You keep running off to the Great Wasteland beneath the Holy Ancestor Mountain—how could they not notice you?" Elder Zhu rolled his eyes.
Zhu Xuan chuckled, not even waiting for the medicine to cool before gulping it down in a few large swallows.
Elder Zhu could only shake his head helplessly at the sight.
"Nan Qing has never once said she would take you as a disciple. She merely tossed you a few fist techniques and divine abilities for you to practice casually. Yet here you are, calling her 'Master' left and right—even I feel embarrassed for you."
Unfazed, Zhu Xuan grinned. "Regardless, Master still cares about me. Otherwise, why would she have Tiea personally bring me back? I train my fist techniques at the foot of the Holy Ancestor Mountain precisely so she might spare some time to guide me."
Elder Zhu glared at him. "Watch your words, brat. Don't let your imagination run wild. Nan Qing's status isn't something for you to casually claim ties with."
Zhu Xuan frowned slightly. "I'm not imagining anything. I just respect Nan Qing for saving my life."
At these words, Elder Zhu sighed, recalling the past.
Had Nan Qing not intervened back then—curing Zhu Xuan's illness and helping him control his innate divine strength—he likely wouldn't have survived to this day.
It was only natural for Zhu Xuan to revere her.
But the way he insisted on calling himself her disciple made even Elder Zhu, his so-called grandfather, feel awkward.
Nan Qing might appear youthful, but she was the Holy Ancestor's daughter—her seniority and age were terrifyingly high.
All the inhabitants of the Floating Land had grown up under her watch.
"When you were just an infant, someone was hunting you down. You drifted to the edge of the Floating Land, wrapped in a blood-soaked swaddling cloth. In truth, it was Nan Qing who discovered you first—she was the one who told me to take you in..."
"In that sense, Nan Qing has saved your life twice." Elder Zhu shook his head.
Hearing this story again after so many years, Zhu Xuan's expression turned complicated.
"I know all this... And I will find a way to uncover the truth of my origins—to avenge my parents and clan..."
A trace of hatred flickered in his eyes.
Though these events were long past, fragmented images often surfaced in his mind—
A pitch-black night under a full moon, the earth stained crimson with blood. A cold wind carried the stench of slaughter and screams.
A slender, indifferent figure stood atop a mountain peak beneath a blood-red moon, watching the carnage unfold with detached calm.
Countless figures shrouded in black haze descended like reapers of death, wielding all manner of weapons as they slaughtered all living beings without mercy.
No matter how his clansmen resisted, they were powerless against those deathly figures.
All they could do was bow their necks and await the end.
Mountain winds howled as towering flames erupted, rapidly consuming villages, fields, palaces, and sacred mountains alike.
The firelight illuminated the vague features of that distant figure—their cold gaze like that of a god looking down upon the struggles of mere insects.
This scene often haunted Zhu Xuan's mind.
He knew—that figure was the true culprit behind the annihilation of his entire clan.
Though he did not know who they were, he was certain that one day, he would find them.
And take vengeance for his parents and kin.
This was the very reason he pushed himself so relentlessly in combat training.
Several days passed—a span so brief to cultivators it was less than the blink of an eye.
Within the territory of the Imperial Immortal Palace, massive Domain-breaking Battleships draped in Chaos Qi tore through the cosmos, arriving from countless worlds.
Beyond these, streaks of light, immortal steeds, and flying swords could be seen traversing the starry skies, carrying terrifyingly powerful figures to the gathering.
The emergence of the Imperial Immortal Palace's Founder and his proclamation to the world was an event that shook the entire Primary Hope Civilisation.
Every notable clan, sect, and nation within the civilisation immediately dispatched high-ranking representatives, none daring to slight the Imperial Immortal Palace's prestige.