Chapter Sixty-Eight: The Beginning of Heaven’s Collapse (Part Two)

Boom!

A dazzling flash of golden light swept by, and just as Nan Luo stepped into the Hall of the Gods, he was immediately enveloped in brilliance and vanished in an instant.

The grand doors of the Hall of the Gods closed silently, without a trace, as soon as Nan Luo was taken away.

He found himself in an ancient, somber hall.

Suddenly, a radiant golden light burst forth, revealing Nan Luo’s figure within.

“I never expected the spatial transmission of the Hall of the Gods to be so powerful—even I am not exempt from its effects,” Nan Luo remarked, rubbing his slightly dizzy head with a wry sigh.

The Hall of the Gods lived up to its name, truly a peerless treasure of creation.

Even its simplest spatial transmission contained such overwhelming spatial force that Nan Luo found himself slightly unsettled.

He turned his majestic golden eyes, scanning the ancient, shadowed hall around him.

Within this archaic darkness, the sacred golden light emanating from Nan Luo was as dazzling as the morning sun, illuminating the entire chamber.

“Is this the Hall of the Gods? Why is there nothing here?” Nan Luo wondered, surprised to find the hall utterly empty, nothing but pitch-black walls enclosing him.

As confusion stirred within him, a golden throne slowly materialized above, suspended in the air.

The moment the throne appeared, the Hall seemed to awaken from slumber, revealing boundless power.

The golden throne radiated endless divine light, shining to every corner of the hall.

Where the sacred light touched, the true nature of the surroundings was revealed.

The lofty dome, unveiled by the golden rays, displayed a grand celestial chart.

Countless stars glittered, encircling three hundred and sixty-five principal stars, forming a perfect map of the heavens.

The gathered galaxies streamed across the celestial chart, dividing it in two.

The four walls, bathed in golden brilliance, revealed their original forms—the Walls of Creation.

On these luminous walls, vivid depictions of all manner of living beings appeared: mighty dragons, phoenixes, and qilins, as well as humble flowers and trees, all rendered lifelike, as though they might leap forth at any moment.

Most astonishing to Nan Luo, the uppermost part of each wall was engraved with the three thousand primordial gods and demons.

On the northern wall, the uppermost figure was a ten-zhang tall water deity striding upon waves, wielding a divine spear, majestic and imposing—the sovereign of all waters.

This deity was none other than Nan Luo himself, the primordial water god.

Each of the three thousand depicted gods and demons was unique in posture and expression, yet they shared one trait:

The living shone gold, the dead were shrouded in darkness, and the wounded glowed red!

Those like Nan Luo, living primordial gods, radiated boundless golden light, sacred and awe-inspiring.

The fallen gods appeared pitch black, devoid of life.

When a primordial god was gravely wounded, its image on the wall emitted a red glow.

Nan Luo surveyed the three thousand figures and discovered a grievous truth: of all the primordial gods and demons, fewer than a thousand remained.

Though born of Heaven and Earth, and blessed by fate, the primordial gods were not immortal.

They possessed great fortune, but also faced great peril.

The three thousand chaotic gods and demons, children of the Great Dao, each incomparably powerful—at least of the Divine Emperor rank—had mostly been slain by Pangu, and the few survivors had fled to unknown realms.

Similarly, only a handful of the three thousand primordial gods and demons persisted.

After surveying the wall, Nan Luo began to scrutinize the depictions of the gods of his own kind.

“Hm? Why is his image glowing red? Yuan Lu must have encountered trouble!”

As he examined the wall, Nan Luo found himself and the twelve Divine Lords blazing with golden light, while one member of the Gods’ Alliance was shrouded in dim red.

Originally, the Alliance boasted fourteen primordial Divine Kings. Besides Nan Luo, only twelve had arrived at Buzhou Mountain—one was missing.

That absent king was Nan Luo’s old friend, Yuan Lu, the God of Slaughter.

Knowing Yuan Lu well, Nan Luo was certain he wouldn’t have missed the gathering at Buzhou Mountain without cause, and had suspected trouble.

He had later inquired among the gods, but none knew Yuan Lu’s whereabouts.

Now, seeing Yuan Lu’s image glowing red, Nan Luo was sure calamity had struck.

Staring at that depiction, Nan Luo frantically summoned his divine senses, attempting to divine Yuan Lu’s fate.

“What? I cannot see it—only endless crimson!”

His brow furrowed as he opened his golden eyes, filled with uncertainty.

With Nan Luo’s current power, only a Divine Emperor could block his divinations—who else could obscure his sight?

Yet he could find nothing, only an infinite tide of blood-red.

This indicated Yuan Lu was in mortal peril, his life hanging by a thread.

“Yuan Lu is in grave danger!” Nan Luo sighed helplessly, facing a crisis beyond his ability to resolve.

After examining the dome and walls, he turned his attention to the floor.

The golden tiles of the Hall were engraved with the landscape and features of the entire prehistoric land—a miniature world unto itself.

“So the prehistoric land is still expanding!” Nan Luo observed, discovering through this microcosm that the great land continued to grow.

At this moment, Nan Luo had no inkling of how formidable the Hall’s dome of stars, walls of creation, or floor of the land truly were.

Only when he mastered the Hall would he understand: each of these features rivaled the greatest treasures of creation.

After a cursory scan of the Hall, Nan Luo fixed his blazing gaze upon the golden throne above.

From the very first glance, Nan Luo knew this throne was the heart of the Hall, its controlling core.

To command the throne was to command the Hall.

In a flash of golden light, Nan Luo stood before the throne.

He swept his fervent eyes over it again and again, gently tracing the mysterious marks etched upon it.

The throne was unadorned, bearing no images of living creatures, drawing no attention.

Yet any Divine Lord who saw it would be captivated, unable to avert their gaze.

For on its surface were three thousand marks of law.

Each mark was forged from the essence of one of the three thousand fundamental laws.

Seated upon this throne, one could comprehend them all, the very path to the Great Dao.

Nan Luo’s golden eyes were irresistibly drawn, gradually mesmerized by the three thousand marks.

Just as he was sinking deeper into their mysteries, the Creation Jade Disc within him emitted sacred white light, slowly emerging and transforming into a jade bell.

Dong...

Clear, resonant chimes rang out, startling Nan Luo and rousing him from his trance.

His golden eyes, once clouded, slowly regained clarity under the bell’s awakening sound.

Now alert, he gazed at the throne with lingering dread—it truly led directly to the Great Dao, its power to enchant was terrifying. Until he fully mastered the throne, he dared not attempt to comprehend its three thousand laws.

He turned to look at the Creation Jade Disc, now restored to its original form, his expression conflicted.

Though the Jade Disc harbored hidden dangers, it had saved him time and again.

Nan Luo retrieved the hovering Jade Disc, and with a step and a turn, he seated himself upon the golden throne.

Boom!

Endless divine golden light radiated from the throne.

The protective light of the Hall blazed forth, forming a column that shot skyward, illuminating the heavens.

“Has Chief Nan Luo claimed the Hall of the Gods?!”

The elders, led by Candle Dragon, ignored the risk of being blinded by the brilliant light, widening their eyes to stare at the Hall above.

The Hall of the Gods released a pillar of golden light that pierced the nine heavens, breaking through the layers of earth, water, wind, and fire, forming a majestic, sacred projection of the Hall that shone across all realms.