Chapter 493 - 462: Ancient Chaos Bell, That Epoch

No, she didn’t just become a withered, skinny old woman again.

Third Granny shrank directly from a hale young woman to the size of a three-foot-tall child.

She got smaller and shorter, her bones withered, and wrinkles reappeared on her face.

Finally, with a loud cry, she collapsed to the ground.

CRACK, CRACK...

Following a series of crisp snaps, the fallen Third Granny’s bones broke and her tendons snapped. Her neck twisted awry, and just like that, she breathed her last.

The remaining villagers clapped and cheered, cackling strangely.

Amidst the cackles, the villagers who had just been united against a common foe descended back into a chaotic melee.

THUD! THUD! THUD!

More and more people fell to the ground, dead.

Meanwhile, for Jing Huaisheng, who lay prostrate on the ground, the sides of his neck began to bulge outward as each villager died... Something new and strange was growing.

At first, the two strange masses were dark and hazy. Even under the candlelight, they were just blurry lumps, their features indistinct.

But soon, the two grayish masses grew larger and larger. When they reached about the size of watermelons, the gray mist dissipated, revealing two newborn heads on either side of Jing Huaisheng’s own.

Of these two new heads, one wore a smile. Its skin was smooth, youthful, and vigorous—the very picture of vitality, warmth, and friendliness.

The other head, however, had a dim complexion and desiccated skin crisscrossed with wrinkles. It was clearly the face of a decrepit elder, radiating an aura of death!

One flourishing, one withered. One life, one death.

DONG, DONG, DONG—

The bell was still ringing.

Its toll spoke of more than just the flourishing and withering of heaven and earth; it spoke of the turning of all creation, of the birth and death of epochs.

In reality, Third Granny was dead, and more and more villagers were dead.

They died of their own greed and madness, died because the evil in their hearts was magnified to its absolute limit.

And in the illusory vision, those world-destroying Ancient Demons had also died.

They died in their unrestrained freedom, died in one exhilarating, world-shattering battle after another.

Then suddenly, one day, terrifying meteors descended from the sky, each one encasing a bizarre creature.

The meteors crashed into the earth, destroying mountains, severing rivers, cracking open deep valleys, and gouging out endless oceans. Then, from within those oceans, swarmed an infinite number of... insects!

That’s right, insects!

Insects dragging long feelers, insects with fat, squirming bodies, insects with innumerable spinning leg-blades, insects with compound eyes and wings... In short, they were every type of insect imaginable, in shapes and forms too varied and bizarre to depict.

The insects surged from the oceans onto the land like a tide, blanketing everything in a cataclysmic wave.

Screeching, they charged toward the surviving Ancient Demons.

Too many Ancient Demons had died in their earlier free-for-all battles. And though the survivors were each like natural-born gods, innately possessing the Dao, their numbers were simply too few.

The handful of remaining Ancient Demons, facing an overwhelming swarm of insects, found that even their resistance was futile.

The Ancient Demons howled, stirring up greater storms.

The land was shattered piece by piece. The Ancient Demons wailed in sorrow, and heaven and earth wailed with them.

Finally, at a certain moment...

The insects buzzed, having conquered all of heaven and earth.

DONG, DONG, DONG—

The bell continued to toll. At this moment, however, the great bell seemed to be singing a dirge for heaven and earth.

As the vision progressed to this point, a storm of shock raged in the heart of Song Ciwan, who was observing from the outside. In time with the tolling bell, a thread of desolation took root within her.

Amidst this endless dirge, heaven and earth were strewn with corpses. A great bell coalesced and rose from the countless Demon Corpses, spinning as it rang out—DONG!

The bell tolled again.

On the bell’s surface, an ancient seal-script word flickered in and out of view, seeming to read "Chaos."

The word "Chaos" blazed with light.

The overwhelming swarm of insects, which had been celebrating their victory, suddenly began to contort and shriek.

DONG!

The bell tolled again. The resentment of tens of thousands of Demon Corpses converged.

At some unknown point, the insects scuttling over the Demon Corpses suddenly began to ram into and devour one another.

The insects, who had been so united when they assaulted the land, had at this very moment begun to slaughter each other!

DONG!

The bell rang on as a thick fog covered heaven and earth.

Finally, amidst the chaotic backdrop, a great bell, seemingly carrying a blue planet on its back, abruptly receded into the vast Void.

Its origins were unknown, as was its destination.

The vision completely dissipated, and the tolling of the bell ceased entirely.

All that remained was the ancestral hall, where white candles flickered high. In the candlelight, all the villagers lay in pools of their own blood.

The three-headed, six-armed Jing Huaisheng knelt on one knee, one hand clutching his chest.

The young face on the left wore an expression of pity, while the old face on the right was a mask of indifference.

And in the center, his original head wore an expression of suffering.

The preceding bell tolls and the various ancient visions all seemed to have been nothing more than an illusory dream.

Whether it was real or not, it was impossible to distinguish truth from falsehood.

But Song Ciwan, who had been observing these scenes unfold, suddenly had a flash of insight.

She took a soft breath and murmured two words: "The Chaos Bell!"

Her heart pounded. ’That’s it! That was the Chaos Bell!’

Song Ciwan understood now. That great bell in the endless Void was definitely the Chaos Bell.

’But why had the Chaos Bell, the ultimate treasure of the Demon Race, shattered? And how did a fragment end up here in the Nine Provinces Mortal World, inside the heart of an ordinary Human?’

’Of course, now that he possessed this fragment, Jing Huaisheng couldn’t really be called an ordinary Human anymore.’

’He had three heads and six arms, and he even seemed to have developed the Withered and Prosperous Divine Techniques.’

’Is he still Human?’

’Or has he already turned into a demon?’

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP!

This time, it was not the Chaos Bell ringing. It was only the sound of Jing Huaisheng’s heart.

His heart pounded as he staggered over to where the villagers’ corpses lay. He knelt on the ground again, and tears streamed down his young, left-side face. "Granny, Fifth Uncle, Third Aunt..."

The young face cried out in sorrow.

But the old face on the right said, "All Humans must eventually die. To die of desire is merely to return to one’s true nature."

The normal face in the middle began to laugh foolishly. "If I’d known it would end like this, why did it have to begin? They’re all dead. It’s for the best that they’re all dead. I should die too..."

As he said this, Jing Huaisheng’s six arms rose in unison and suddenly clamped around the three necks below his three heads.

The six arms moved quickly. His grip on his own necks was both vicious and precise, his knuckles bulging. He was clearly intent on killing himself.

Song Ciwan, having watched this far, sighed softly to herself.

Observing everything that had happened in the ancestral hall today, Song Ciwan’s attention had been mostly fixed on the visions manifested by the Chaos Bell Fragment. However, she had not been entirely oblivious to the villagers’ conflicts.

But while she was paying attention, Song Ciwan found it difficult to pass judgment on the rights and wrongs of the situation.

This was why she had only observed from start to finish, without intervening.

’There are times when one must intervene, but there are also times when one must respect the consequences of others’ actions and avoid meddling.’

’The line between acting righteously and being a busybody is a fine one, and Song Ciwan could not guarantee that every decision she made was correct.’

’She was no saint; there were surely times her judgment was flawed or she made mistakes. All she could do was make her decisions without regret, and with a clear conscience.’

As she was sighing, Song Ciwan gently patted the back of the little girl in her arms.

Her sigh startled Jing Huaisheng inside the ancestral hall. His hearing was exceptionally sharp. The hands choking the necks on his left and right did not relax, but the hands on his middle neck suddenly loosened slightly.

He turned his head and roared, "Who’s there?"

The moment the roar sounded, Jing Huaisheng’s three-headed, six-armed body blurred, flashing out of the ancestral hall to appear before Song Ciwan.

The moment he saw Song Ciwan, Jing Huaisheng instinctively took a step back.

He possessed extremely sharp senses and could perceive that the black-clad youth before him was terrifyingly dangerous.

But soon, Jing Huaisheng noticed the little girl held in Song Ciwan’s arms. He cried out in alarm, "Ah Nan! What did you do to her? Why do you have Ah Nan? Who are you?"

Song Ciwan did not answer. Instead, she swept her hand over the little girl, who stirred and woke in her arms.

The little girl rubbed her eyes, turned her head, and cried out in delight, "Big Brother! It’s my big brother!"

Song Ciwan then placed the little girl, Ah Nan, on the ground.