Ch. 1239 - The One Behind The Curtain
“I have no plans to marry, Elder. You don’t need to say any more,” Xu Zimo said with a smile, waving his hand.
The elder chuckled, clinking his cup against Xu Zimo’s once again. “Tell me, young man, how’s the wine?”
“Excellent,” Xu Zimo nodded.
“Our village is called Forgetful Village because of this very wine,” the elder said, smiling strangely. “It’s called Forgetful Wine.”
“Oh?” Xu Zimo raised a brow. “Does it make one lose their memory after drinking it?”
“How do you feel right now?” the elder asked, standing up slowly.
“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Xu Zimo replied calmly.
The elder frowned slightly. Suddenly, countless branches erupted from the ground beneath Xu Zimo’s feet, wrapping around him and binding him in place.
“Who exactly are you?” the elders demanded, stepping back cautiously.
Xu Zimo gave a faint smile. “Funny, I was just about to ask you the same thing.”
He flexed slightly, and with sheer physical strength alone, shattered the bindings of branches around him.
“When I first arrived, I thought you were all Dryads who’d cultivated into human form,” he said evenly. “But now, you reek of decay. Judging by that stench, you’ve been dead for quite some time.”
“Take him down first!” the leading elder snapped coldly.
In that instant, the two massive ginseng trees at the village entrance began to twist and turn. The entire village started to shift, transforming into a living labyrinth.
Everyone inside, the women, the elders, the trees, turned into pitch-black trunks radiating dense death energy.
The once vibrant forest was now nothing but dead soil. The air grew cold. Tombstones began to burst from the earth, one after another.
The entire place had turned into an extension of the God Valley of Buried Souls.
Crows cawed above, and the rotting trees around him began to move, growing legs and charging toward Xu Zimo.
Xu Zimo frowned slightly. The Primal Dao of Fire flickered to life in his hand.
Fire, the natural enemy of wood.
A torrent of flame roared forth, sweeping through the air and engulfing the earth in a blazing inferno.
The trees crackled and exploded under the heat, filling the air with hissing and popping sounds. A cold, wailing wind blew through the ruins, sounding eerily like the cries of the dead.
“Seems someone doesn’t want me here,” Xu Zimo said with a smirk, scanning the surroundings. “In that case, I’ll carve out a bloody path myself.”
The aura of his blade surged outward. Shadow Tyrant appeared in his hand, resting easily against his shoulder.
When he unleashed his blade intent, he didn’t bother to restrain it. Everything within his line of sight was instantly reduced to nothingness.
Ahead, skeletal arms clawed their way out from beneath the tombstones, and bone-white figures began to rise one after another.
Dead trees sprouted legs and gathered into formation, weaving themselves into a massive, foul-smelling array filled with ghostly figures.
Xu Zimo sneered. “Just a pack of rabble.”
The flames spread from him in all directions, devouring everything within several miles.
Then, he tossed the Traceless Compass into the air.
The compass spun rapidly, its markings of the Eight Trigrams shifting continuously.
A moment later, a radiant path opened up in the sky, its light shining across the darkened valley.
From an outside perspective, it looked as if divine light had pierced the cursed land.
But from Xu Zimo’s view, his mind had entered a state of absolute clarity. His eyes could now perceive the workings of fate itself, the omens of fortune and calamity glowing before him in ever-changing colors.
Each hue represented a different destiny: great misfortune, or great blessing.
Xu Zimo smiled faintly. With this compass, at least he wouldn’t lose his way in the God Valley of Buried Souls.
He followed the path of good fortune, the Traceless Compass hovering above his head as his blade aura swept outward, covering thousands of miles and shaking the heavens.
Deep within the God Valley of Buried Souls, in a hidden underground lair, raucous laughter echoed.
Below the cavern throne were countless bone demons, cheering and drinking wildly.
On the throne sat a gigantic rat, its body covered in yellow fur, its face narrow and vicious. It held a huge piece of cheese in its mouth, snoring loudly as it slept, blowing bubbles the size of boulders.
The white bone imps beneath him were making merry, shouting and laughing.
“Our God Valley of Buried Souls is one of the great Forbidden Lands of the Ghost God Heaven!” one of the skeletons bragged.
“That’s right! Even if a Grand Emperor came here, he’d have to bow to us!” another cackled proudly.
“We may not be much in the outside world, but here, this is the realm of the dead! Our realm!”
“Shh, keep your voice down,” one hissed. “You’ll wake the king. Then you’ll really be in trouble.”
“Whose turn is it to guard the entrance today?”
“I think it was Bone Elder’s shift. But it’s been a while… maybe he’s caught something big?”
The skeletons laughed among themselves, until one came stumbling in, shouting frantically.
“My lord! My lord! Something terrible has happened!”
The massive rat stirred, the bubbles at its mouth bursting with a pop. It opened its sharp eyes irritably, grabbed the panicked skeleton by the neck, and lifted him up.
“You woke this king’s nap. Has the sky fallen?”
“N-not quite,” the skeleton stammered.
Before it could finish, there was a slap, the rat swatted it across the room.
“The sky hasn’t fallen, so what are you screeching about?”
“It’s an intruder, my lord!” the skeleton cried. “A terrifying one! He’s slaughtering everything in his path, he’s nearly reached the main cavern!”
“What about the guards?” the rat demanded.
“Dead, my lord! Killed with a single strike. Bone King is the only one still holding him off!”
“A bunch of useless fools,” the rat growled, rising from its throne. Its obese body shook as it moved, making the ground tremble beneath each step.
“Come! Let’s see who dares disturb this king’s slumber!”
With a wave of his claw, the rat led an army of skeleton demons toward the entrance.
In the Forest of Bones, the cold wind howled.
Tombstones jutted from the ground, and the sound of shattering bones echoed faintly.
Xu Zimo stood before a towering figure, the Bone King. Its entire body was composed of razor-sharp bones, each one gleaming like a blade.
Xu Zimo swung Shadow Tyrant. A thunderous explosion followed.
The Bone King was cleaved in half, but almost immediately, the shattered bones reassembled themselves, restoring its form.
“In this place, you can’t kill me,” the Bone King laughed. “The Valley is filled with bones. I’ll never run out.”
“Is that so?” Xu Zimo said quietly.
He raised his blade toward the sky.
Thunder answered.
A pillar of lightning crashed down, splitting the heavens like the wrath of the gods.
It engulfed the Bone King completely, and screams tore through the air.
“You! You wield fire, not lightning! How, how is this possible!?” the Bone King howled.
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