Chapter Thirty-One: Gatherings of Clouds from All Directions

Xuanming Waters, Xuanming Water Official, Black Heaven Palace.

From the outside, Black Heaven Palace was forged from divine metals, resplendent and majestic, yet within, it was austere and grand, dominated by obsidian crystals—mysterious and perilous. Upon a colossal throne of black crystal sat a figure ten fathoms tall. Behind him, darkness pure and absolute shrouded the entire palace.

At the heart of the great hall was a massive obsidian divine mirror, reflecting all the scenes of conflict, pursuit, and enmity between Black Earth and Nanluo. Black Earth knelt in reverence upon the hall floor, head bowed, his face ashen—clearly suffering from the forced extraction of his soul’s memories.

For three days and nights, Black Earth remained kneeling before at last the figure upon the throne spoke. Rare emotion flickered across the king’s face, and Black Earth’s heart leapt—at last, it was to end.

With Black Earth’s strength, three days and nights of kneeling in the Black Heaven Palace, beneath the enveloping domain of darkness, should have been nothing. Yet, wounded by the blue axe light and then having his soul’s memory forcibly seized by Black Heaven, his power was greatly diminished. The force of the domain’s darkness now pressed upon him beyond endurance.

After these three days and nights, one percent of Black Earth’s soul had already been eroded by the domain’s darkness—a portion that would require ten thousand years to restore. Fortunate indeed that, when he was nearing his breaking point, the king finally spoke.

By custom, once the king pronounced, the interrogation would be over.

“Are you aware of your crime?” The figure on the throne asked, his voice dignified yet cool.

Falling like thunder from the highest heavens, the words struck Black Earth’s heart with terror. Under the king’s deliberate pressure, his pallor deepened yet further, and he prostrated himself, replying, “Your servant knows his guilt! I beg Your Majesty for punishment.”

Gone was the imposing dignity of the chief elder of the Xuanming Black Serpent clan; now, he was but a pitiful old serpent.

The king looked down at the minister who had followed him for hundreds of thousands of years. The murderous intent in his eyes faded a little as he rebuked him, “Since you admit your fault, you are demoted to the Blackwood Cliff, to meditate in seclusion for a thousand years.”

Black Earth had expected to be stripped of his position, yet it was only a thousand years’ meditation. For one of his strength, a millennium of contemplation was but a period of closed-door cultivation—not much of a punishment at all.

Relief flooded him, and he bowed deeply, “Thank you, Your Majesty, for your great mercy! Your servant will devote himself to repaying your grace.”

Two black-armored divine generals suddenly appeared at his side, escorting him away to serve his penalty.

After Black Earth was taken away, Black Heaven sat alone upon the throne, gazing into the obsidian mirror at Nanluo. Recalling the chilling blue axe light, he slowly raised his right hand.

Upon it was a faint, freshly formed blue scar.

Black Heaven’s gaze was grave as he regarded the scar, then suddenly he chuckled softly. “I did not expect such an interesting Primeval God-Demon to appear. The Three Heaven-Splitting Axes—how long has it been?”

Black Heaven closed his eyes, pondering his strategy regarding Nanluo, as the blue scar on his hand quietly healed itself.

After a long while, he opened his eyes; the usual starry blackness was replaced by molten, dazzling golden pupils. From his divine body, a shadow emerged and stood.

Black Heaven pointed at the shadow, his expression calm as he commanded, “Go to Mount Buzhou and find Nanluo.”

At his word, the shadow vanished in a flash, cleaving through space into a resplendent, multicolored spatial tunnel.

Eastern Sea, Dragon Clan, Dragon Palace.

Upon the Dragon Sovereign’s throne sat a king, bearing the horns of a dragon, his visage stern, clad in a robe embroidered with nine-clawed golden dragons. Below him sat the elders of the dragon clan.

Suspended high above, the Dragon Eye Divine Mirror displayed the scenes of Nanluo’s battle with Black Earth.

When they saw Nanluo slay Black Earth with a single strike, every elder’s eyes filled with astonishment. A clone possessing eighty percent of Black Earth’s strength had been slain with one axe—this Nanluo was formidable indeed!

Even the Ancestral Dragon upon the throne showed a rare glimmer of admiration. The Three Heaven-Splitting Axes? Heh, this Nanluo is no ordinary being.

The Dragon Eye Divine Mirror’s last image was of Nanluo’s arrogant, domineering declaration, “I am the God-Demon of Water, Nanluo!”

Though the elders had not witnessed it in person, merely seeing it through the mirror, they could still feel Nanluo’s unrestrained, imperious aura.

As the mirror faded to darkness, the Ancestral Dragon swept his gaze around and spoke with authority, “Speak your minds! What stance should the dragon clan take towards Nanluo?”

The elders exchanged uneasy glances, all at a loss. Against such a powerful, lawless Primeval God-Demon, they had no solutions and dared not speak rashly.

“Aoyan, you speak.” The Ancestral Dragon called out directly.

Aoyan, clad in the robe of the Eight-Clawed Fire Dragon King, was the fifth elder, lord of the fire dragons. The dragon clan comprised seven great lineages: gold, white, black, yellow, azure, fire, and water, with countless lesser branches. The gold, white, and black dragons were the three superior lineages, while yellow, azure, fire, and water were the four lesser.

Their ranks: Dragon Sovereign, Dragon King, Heavenly Dragon, True Dragon, and Divine Dragon.

Aoyan was hot-tempered, bloodthirsty—a staunch advocate for war.

Upon being summoned, he stood and swept his gaze around, then declared in a firm, steady voice, “Your Majesty, in my view, the dragon clan should not make an enemy of Nanluo.”

The elders looked at Aoyan in disbelief—was this truly the same violent, bloodthirsty Aoyan? Since when had he become so benevolent?

“Oh? Speak freely,” the Ancestral Dragon said, surprised yet curious.

“By your command,” Aoyan replied respectfully. “I see that Nanluo is on the verge of breaking through to the realm of Divine Sovereign. You all know the might of a Primeval Divine Sovereign! The dragon clan should not make such a foe.”

At his words, the elders thought of the dread power of their own Ancestral Dragon and inwardly agreed—provoking a Primeval Divine Sovereign was indeed unwise.

“I object!” Suddenly, Aorun, clad in the blue robe of the Eight-Clawed Blue Dragon King, stood forth in opposition.

Aorun, calm and astute, was the sixth elder and master of the water dragons. With the Ancestral Dragon’s permission, he looked to Aoyan and the others and declared resolutely, “In my judgment, we must kill! This Nanluo is mysterious in origin, arrogant and domineering in conduct, and will surely hinder the dragon clan’s ambitions for supremacy—he must be slain!”

As he spoke, killing intent radiated from him, making the other elders stare in surprise.

“What has come over them today? Aoyan and Aorun’s natures and attitudes are completely reversed,” the elders thought privately.

After hearing both sides, the elders were left speechless—should they make peace or make war? All now hung on the Ancestral Dragon’s will.

Seeing their hesitation, the Ancestral Dragon spoke with reason, “Enough. You may all retire. I will make my decision.”

With a sigh of relief, the elders vanished swiftly.

Dragon Clan, Star-Gazing Terrace.

The Ancestral Dragon stood atop the terrace, gazing at the stars, lost in thought. A divine radiance flashed, and Candle Dragon appeared behind him, wearing the robe of the Eight-Clawed Golden Dragon King.

Suddenly, a golden divine sword manifested before Candle Dragon—upon its blade, a nine-clawed golden dragon coiled, swimming amidst the myriad stars.

Candle Dragon’s eyes flashed with alarm, but he held his tongue.

“Third Brother, take the Sky-Splitting Sword, gather two hundred Divine Kings, and seek out Nanluo. If he has not yet become a Divine Sovereign, kill him. If he has, then make alliance with him,” the Ancestral Dragon said, without turning.

Candle Dragon stowed the sword away, said nothing more, and vanished in a beam of golden light.

Only the Ancestral Dragon remained, alone upon the silent terrace.

“Nanluo, you must be the one who summoned the ninefold thunder and triggered the great tribulation of heaven and earth,” he murmured, eyes shining as he gazed at the stars.

At the same time, the mighty races and factions across the Wilds dispatched their strongest to make for Mount Buzhou.