Chapter 497 - 439: The 9th Dao Foundation

The turmoil in the Celestial Court rose with surging momentum, only to subside in an instant.

Ever since that day in the West Sea—when a sword had slain a Buddha, a wave of a hand had blotted out the sky, and a single word had sealed the Celestial Court—barely a month had passed. The unprecedented "great calamity" that had nearly swept across the entire Profound Yellow Origin Realm, which would have triggered crusades by myriad Cultivators and drawn the attention of True Monarchs, swiftly dissipated into an almost eerie "calm."

It had arrived like a sky-shattering tsunami and receded like an ebbing tide.

All the turbulence and clamor seemed to quickly return to normal after that dark blue figure before the South Heaven Gate waved his hand, laying down a grand array of Sword Qi that enveloped the entire Celestial Court. The Cultivators dispersed in dismay, each returning to their respective cave dwellings.

The West Sea returned to "peace." All that remained was a broken expanse of sea that had been reshaped by Sword Qi and Buddha Light, along with the sharp Dao Rhyme lingering in the air. This was destined to become a terrifying legend recorded in the annals of history.

The upheaval seemed to have settled, and the Profound Yellow Realm appeared ready to return to its former tracks. However, all things possessed inertia. This was especially true when it involved the eternal grievances and interests of two major factions.

The great war between the Righteous and Demon factions—a monstrous conflict temporarily "shelved" by the emergence of the Celestial Court and the stirring of qi and fortune—should have reignited with even greater ferocity the moment the turmoil subsided. The Northwest Demon Path had long been gathering strength, sharpening their weapons and feeding their horses. They had intended to seize this opportunity of shifting Heaven and Earth fortunes to launch a massive counterattack and tear through the Central Earth defense lines that the Righteous Dao had cultivated over tens of thousands of years.

But when the Northwest Demon Path’s billowing demonic clouds once again pressed upon the borders, with blood banners fluttering and ten thousand demons roaring, ready to meet the Righteous Dao’s expected stubborn resistance... what they saw instead was a bizarre emptiness.

The majestic border passes they had expected, towering like mountains and flashing with runes, were empty. The defending Cultivators, Array towers, and War Magical Artifacts had vanished without a trace, leaving only solitary city walls weeping in the wind. The strategic strongholds they had expected, fortified layer by layer and supporting one another, were empty. Spirit Veins had been extracted, treasuries emptied, and even the topsoil seemed to have been scraped away. Only the immoveable mountains and rivers remained.

The fertile lands of Central Earth, where they expected to fight bloody battles for every inch of ground, were completely unobstructed. The vanguard of the Northwest Demon Path cautiously advanced for tens of thousands of miles, yet they did not encounter a single organized resistance! There were only a few scattered minor Sects and Loose Cultivators who hadn’t had time or didn’t want to retreat, fleeing at the mere sight of the encroaching demonic clouds.

The Righteous Dao had retreated.

This was no tactical withdrawal, nor was it a lure to draw the enemy in. Instead, they had directly surrendered the vast Central Earth—a territory they had cultivated for countless years, which gathered more than half of the Profound Yellow’s Spiritual Qi and resources, and was regarded as the foundation and symbol of the Righteous Dao!

Faced with this unimaginably massive fruit of victory, served piping hot right to their mouths, the Northwest Demon Path, from top to bottom, fell into collective bewilderment.

"Is it a trap?!"

"What tricks are those hypocrites of the Righteous Dao playing?!"

"Scout! Scout them to death! Even if you have to dig three feet into the ground across a million miles, leave no stone unturned and find the ambush!"

The giants of the Demon Dao were filled with alarm and doubt. Scouts and Array grandmasters were dispatched in droves, repeatedly probing every inch of land and sky, terrified of stepping into some heaven-shaking death trap. However, the returning reports confirmed it time and time again—it was truly empty.

The main forces of the Righteous Dao—those renowned Sects, Noble Families, and the Righteous Alliance—had already packed up their core strength and accumulations. Like an ebbing tide, they had thoroughly and completely retreated to the bitterly cold lands of the Northwest.

After the bewilderment came ecstasy, followed by an indescribable sense of sudden realization and palpitation. The ecstasy went without saying: they had conquered Central Earth without expending a single soldier or losing a single demon! What boundless wealth and immense fortune this was! As for the realization and palpitation, they stemmed from their fear of a single man.

The Sect Leader of the Wuji Holy Sect—Qi Yun!

Thus, after a brief period of hesitation and taking over, the Demon Dao army rapidly flooded every inch of Central Earth like a black torrent. Demonic palaces rose from the ground, blood pools were newly cast, and the joyous howls of Yin Souls and vicious spirits replaced the former celestial melodies and Dao chants. The central lands of the Profound Yellow Realm—the most fertile and overflowing with the most abundant Spiritual Qi—had thus changed masters.

Meanwhile, amidst a sea of complex emotions, the Righteous Alliance migrated in its entirety to the Northwest.

With this, the Righteous and Demon paths had swapped positions!

The structure of the Profound Yellow Realm that had lasted for over ten thousand years—the prolonged standoff where the Righteous occupied Central Earth and the Demon was trapped in the Northwest—had undergone such an earth-shattering and almost absurd reversal in a short period. All of this occurred because of the battle record and latent deterrence of a single person. The flow of fortune in the Profound Yellow Origin Realm, the distribution of power, and even the future rise and fall of Dao inheritances had all been seeded with a completely different foreshadowing as a result.

The shifting clouds of the outside world, the changing of territories, and the surging of fortunes were already nothing more than inconsequential, distant background noise to Qi Yun, who was currently deep within the core Secret Realm of his own Daluo Heaven.

He sat cross-legged atop a stream of chaotic currents. The aura surrounding his body was far more stable than it had been at the West Sea, but the trace of exhaustion and pallor between his brows had not completely faded. The grayish-white sword scar on his palm remained distinct, though Sword Qi no longer coursed through it.

In the center of the space, eight figures hovered in the void like solidified amber. They were thoroughly sealed by layers upon layers of Daluo Dao Principle chains flashing with a Chaos Color. At this moment, all eight of them had their eyes tightly shut, their expressions serene. Only within their bodies did a faint yet fundamentally extraordinary "Venerable" aura—sharing the same origin as Qi Yun’s Daluo Dao Foundation—quietly burn and resonate in this Secret Realm like eight sparks of fire in the dark night.

Qi Yun’s gaze was heavy and focused. He looked like the most patient craftsman inspecting eight pieces of peerless unpolished jade about to be carved, or the most cautious scholar studying eight profound heavenly tomes. He did not immediately begin Refinement.

Raising his right hand, his five fingers bloomed like a lotus flower, as if plucking invisible zither strings. As he lightly pinched his fingers in calculation, wisps of chaotic qi mechanism flowed from his fingertips. Blending with the surrounding Daluo Heaven Dao Rhyme, they evolved into numerous phantoms such as the Eight Trigrams, Nine Palaces, and the Circulation of the stars. There were even subtle ripples of the river of time undulating between his fingers and palm.

He was deducing and divining.

Using his own Daluo Dao Foundation as a guide and these eight captured Venerable Dao Foundations as "bait," he utilized his supreme Divine Sense to communicate with the obscure Profound Yellow Celestial Dao, attempting to capture and locate any clues regarding that final Venerable Dao Foundation.

Time ticked by. In the void before Qi Yun, various deduction anomalies constantly flickered in and out of existence. Sometimes they displayed blurry topographies of mountains and rivers, sometimes they outlined unfamiliar human silhouettes, sometimes they dissolved into chaotic lines and points of light, and at other times, they completely returned to the darkness of nothingness.

Yet, he gained nothing. That ninth Venerable Dao Foundation seemed to have completely evaporated from the Profound Yellow Realm. No matter how Qi Yun activated his Secret Skill and consumed his Divine Thought, the feedback was always emptiness and fog.

"I can’t find it?"

Qi Yun slowly withdrew his posture, and the deduction anomalies swirling between his fingers abruptly collapsed. He opened his eyes, a glint of icy sharpness flashing in their depths.

With his current mastery over the Daluo Heaven, coupled with the eight homogeneous Dao Foundations in his hands acting as the strongest sensors, there theoretically shouldn’t be any existence within the Profound Yellow Realm capable of completely evading a search of this scale.

Unless...

"Interesting," Qi Yun muttered to himself in a low voice, his fingers unconsciously tapping lightly on his knee. "Someone deliberately hid this Venerable Dao Foundation? A True Monarch?"

His gaze fell once more upon the eight sealed figures, deep in thought. He thought, "Attaining the Daluo Venerable from nothingness was my idea alone. I’ve never mentioned it to anyone. Is this... a preemptive layout by someone else?"

Countless thoughts clashed in Qi Yun’s mind. Unable to find the ninth Dao Foundation, his original plan was to refine these eight first, then slowly search for the final one later. Using brute force to overcome finesse was a reliable approach.

However, earlier, right when he wanted to refine these Venerable Dao Foundations... in the unseen world, it was as if a pair of massive, cold, and ruthless eyes that encompassed the myriad heavens and worlds suddenly opened from an infinite height. That icy gaze had pierced through layers of the void and the isolation of the Daluo Heaven, locking onto him as he attempted to achieve Supreme Unity!

It felt as though the moment he dared to truly take the step of Refinement and begin fusing the Venerable origins, this tribulation would instantly and mercilessly crash down, erasing him along with this Daluo Heaven Secret Realm entirely!

In other words, he only had one chance to attempt his void attainment of the supreme Dao Fruit! He had to complete the fusion in one go under the prerequisite of gathering all nine Venerable Dao Foundations. Only by succeeding in one fell swoop could he possibly withstand the terrifying tribulation that would follow. Otherwise, if he forcibly began with only eight, once the tribulation descended, he would definitely end up with his body dead, his Dao erased, and doomed eternally without a chance of redemption!

"But where exactly could this final Venerable Dao Foundation be hidden?"

Qi Yun fell into deep thought. His Heart and Spirit sank into his Purple Mansion as he scrutinized his own Daluo Dao Foundation over and over. He recalled the subtle sensations when resonating with those eight Dao Foundations, deducing every possibility...

Time ticked by, and a profound silence filled the Secret Realm.

Suddenly—

"Wait..."

Qi Yun’s eyes flashed fiercely, like lightning tearing through the night!

"I’ve got it!"

He hesitated no longer and abruptly stood up! He took a single step forward!

RIP!

In the next instant, his figure pierced through the void, disappearing from this Daluo Heaven Secret Realm.

At almost the exact same time.

On the Profound Yellow Continent, deep within a desolate Gobi Desert that had been thoroughly baptized by the passing of time and the fires of tribulation, the space twisted slightly. Qi Yun’s dark blue figure abruptly appeared like a drop of thick ink falling onto a water-wash painting.

Before his eyes was an endless expanse of ruins interwoven with crimson and charred black. A ruined, thousand-zhang-tall golden stone statue of a Buddha lay half-buried in the sand. Its head was severed, and its compassionate face was covered in cracks. Further away, the remains of continuous palaces could faintly be seen. Though they had collapsed and crumbled, the faint Buddha’s Rhyme and immortal golden light lingering on every brick and tile still spoke of the supreme splendor and holiness this place once possessed.

The ruins of the Spirit Mountain Sacred Realm.

His gaze shifted slightly, and with a sweep of Qi Yun’s large hand, the ground instantly parted on its own, revealing the depths thousands of zhang below.

In an instant, a pillar of golden light shot into the sky, illuminating all directions. An endless, vast aura surged outwards like a tidal wave. At the source of the light, the phantom of an ancient tree could faintly be seen. Its entire body looked as if it were cast from Gold, its branches vigorous and primitive, its leaves resembling Dao Patterns. Though it was only about a zhang tall, it exuded a magnificent aura, as if it could prop up Heaven and Earth and incubate the Ten Thousand Laws.

The God of Wealth!

The moment the God of Wealth appeared, countless gazes immediately followed the incomparably dazzling light and aura, peering over. But when their eyes touched that dark blue figure, they trembled in unison and hastily retreated!

That was close; they had almost looked themselves to death.