Chapter 1790: The Long-Awaited Wanggu
Wanggu.
A land of desolation.
The bleak winds did not rise from the sea but were born from the relentless pressure of heaven and earth, growing stronger as they swept across the land.
They howled through the skies, their mournful wails like a funeral dirge for the dying Wanggu.
The once-majestic mountain ranges now lay like petrified ancient dragons, their backs no longer clad in verdant scales but covered instead in layers of dark-brown rocky shells.
Vegetation could no longer thrive.
Only the seeping flames from the earthâs fissures scorched the mountains, leaving them charred like corpses.
This was the thirty-first year of the Parting Summer Calendar.
Twenty-seven years had passed since the Sword Holding Great Emperor slashed his sword toward the heavens.
These twenty-seven years had been arduous for Wanggu.
The ceaseless thunder from the sky was like a countdown, pressing heavily upon all races of Wangguâa death knell ringing in their ears.
Under this sound, all races were equal in the face of death.
Thus, despair had grown in the hearts of all living beings for twenty-seven years.
Even before the frost descended, the world was already steeped in killing intent.
The entire Wanggu had become a land where mountains lay like corpses and vegetation withered.
Anomalous substances grew ever thicker.
The leaden clouds pressed down, torn and mended, and even when the bloody sunset occasionally broke through, the light it cast upon the cracked earth was but a scarred patchwork.
Survival grew harder with each passing day.
Even in the uninhabited northern ice plains of Wanggu, dull rumbles often echoed as the millennia-old ice sheets cracked apart in vast swathes.
The shards carried the ancient wails of the past, swept by the bitter winds across the land, pressing the yellowed wild grass flat like corpses.
The south was even more hopeless. Wars over resources erupted frequently, leaving battlefields strewn with corpses.
With the countdown to death looming, more resources meant better offeringsâthe only hope for survival.
This was the decree handed down from the holy lands beyond the heavens seven years prior:
âWhen we descend, the five races with the most offerings shall be spared annihilation.â
Thus, war became commonplace.
It was only a year ago, as the sky began to change, that the wars gradually subsided.
Now, only the dried black blood on the battlefields bore witness to the chaos.
The wind swept past, unable to carry away the stench of blood, only causing the tattered prayer flags wrapped around broken sword hilts to flutter weakly.
Their mournful rustling became part of the windâs lament.
The entire Wanggu was suffocating under this oppression.
Even the Forbidden Sea was no exception.
Once-tumultuous waves had frozen into towering black walls of iceâthe entire Forbidden Sea had become a glacial expanse.
Occasionally, the ice cracked, and those who connected the fissures discovered that they formed a prophetic image of Wangguâs impending destruction.
Perhaps this was the Sword Holding Great Emperorâs final warning to Wanggu.
And todayâŠ
The last stroke of this prophecy was being completed, the cracking of the ice growing louder.
It was like the heartbeat of all races on Wanggu, pounding faster and faster.
This included Fenghai County!
Fenghai County had gathered the combined forces of the Holy Wave Large Region and the Black Spirit Region. Among them were the Seven Blood Eyes, Xu Qingâs old acquaintances, and the Black Heaven Race members who worshipped him.
Though exhausted from enduring twenty-seven years of hardship, they now stood firmâtheir expressions resolute, their eyes filled with determination⊠and the readiness for death!
Wu Jianwu, Kong Xianglong, and Zhang San were among them.
Under Marquis Yaoâs leadership, the entire Fenghai County activated its grand formation, channeling all its power as they gazed at the heavens.
Deep beneath Fenghai County, within the Immortal Palace, Xu Qingâs divine incarnation sat in meditation. Behind him, in the Phoenix Hall, Zi Xuan opened her eyes.
Not just Fenghai Countyâthe rapid heartbeat echoed just as strongly in the Moon Offering Region!
The Crown Prince, Ninth Grandpa, Eighth Grandpa, Third Grandma, and the others stood before the apothecary on Bitter Life Mountain Range, their expressions grave as they looked to the sky.
Behind them stood Lingâer.
She had grown into a tall, graceful young woman, with a dragon-snake spirit coiling around her, her expression unwavering.
The entire Moon Offering Region trembledâa sign that Fifth Grandmaâs Moon Rebel Hall, a supreme treasure, was operating at full capacity.
Similar scenes played out across all of Wanggu.
âŠ
In the depths of the Western Desert, within the Dark Bone Raceâs ancestral hall, the current Bone King sat upon a throne piled high with the bones of countless beings.
He stared into a bone mirror, its surface reflecting not his own face but the storm-ridden sky of Wanggu.
âŠ
In the Crying Beast Region to the east, the Sky Node Clanâthe strongest race in the regionâwitnessed their massive insect nests writhing frantically.
The surfaces of their cocoons were covered with eye-like patterns, each oozing green pus.
In the largest nest, the raceâs Mother sat at the center, her twelve tentacles twitching uncontrollablyâthree already severed, their stumps dripping thick fluid.
She was desperately trying to divine a path to survival for her people.
âŠ
Further south, the Totem Spirit Raceâa race that had grown rapidly by preying on smaller tribesâworshipped their ancestors as totems.
Yet now, in their totem square, nine of their twelve totem pillars had already cracked.
Their clan leader, his four eyes bleeding, stared at the sky with a frenzied expression.
âŠ
Aside from the races that worshipped gods, all others were in similar states.
They stood ready, their hearts heavy with despair, their fear of the future buried beneath bitter resolve.
They had no choice but to face what was coming.
All raised their heads to the heavens!
Especially⊠the humans!
In the central region of Wanggu, within the Human Race Imperial Capital, atop the Resting Platformâ
The Empress stood tall.
She wore golden imperial robes and the Human Emperorâs crown.
The twelve strands of crimson-gold tassels hanging before Her face remained utterly still in the windâ
A reflection of Her unshakable resolve.
Each tassel was tipped with phoenix marrow pearls tempered by divine fire, casting an eerie glow upon the blood-red sigil between Her brows.
Yet beyond the capital, stretching endlessly, was a blizzard of black snow.
To be precise, it was not snowâbut fragments of the sword energy that had shielded Wanggu for twenty-seven years, now falling like shards of a broken sky.
They landed upon the earth, the mountains, the rivers, their descent accompanied by a sound of resignation.
Amidst this, footsteps approached from behind.
A young man in a four-clawed dragon robe strode forward, his long hair flowing over his shoulders, his features sharp and composed.
It was Ning Yan.
No longer the chubby youth who had once been used as a weapon by Erniu, he had shed his immaturity, his bearing now carrying the dignity of a crown prince.
He stopped behind the Empress, gazing at the world beyond the capital before speaking in a low voice.
âMother, the Flame Moon Mystic Heaven Race has expelled our envoys. They have declared Their seclusion, refusing to participate in the war between our race and the holy lands. They forbid any entry into Their territory.â
âNot just Flame Moonâthe Northern Fate Royal Family in the north, the Empyrean Crimson Land in the west, the Underworld Origin Corpse Race in the south, and the Divine Descent Clan in central Wanggu have all isolated their territories.â
âEvery god-worshipping race in Wanggu has done the same.â
Ning Yanâs voice was heavy.
The Empress remained silent.
She had expected this, though Ning Yan had insisted on sending envoys to Flame Moon in vain hope.
Gods were indifferent. Their choice to stand aside at this time was only natural.
The Empress lifted Her gaze to the heavens.
The entire sky churned, forming a massive vortexâso vast it was horrifying to behold.
As it rotated, it was as though the heavens had gouged out their own eye, weeping tainted blood.
The fragments of sword energy fell ever faster.
At the center of the vortexâvisible only to those at the Divine Platform realm or the long-lost Quasi Immortal stageâwas a blood-red crack, steadily widening.
The Sword Holding Great Emperorâs strike had once formed a curtain of sword energy, shielding the heavens.
It was meant to buy Wanggu thirty more years, delaying the descent of the Ancient Immortals and the holy landsâŠ
Yet seven years ago, its collapse had accelerated.
Now, it was reaching its endâthree years ahead of time.
Through the crack, the Empress could glimpse the majestic holy lands beyond.
And from those holy lands emerged figuresâ
Among them, Quasi Immortals!
Wangguâs last Quasi Immortal had been the Sword Holding Great Emperor.
But the holy lands⊠their lineage remained unbroken.
Beyond the holy lands, the Empress saw a colossal figureâ
The Ancient Immortal who had cast twenty-seven years of dread upon Wanggu.
Just glimpsing it through the crack sent tremors through Her soul.
She could sense its terror.
Though Her divine authority was unique, it was insignificant before its presence.
Just as a Quasi Immortal could never contend with a Summer Immortal.
Thus, She could foresee the outcomeâthe moment the sword energy curtain shattered, calamity would descend upon Wanggu.
âUnless⊠we offer a sacrifice.â
The Empressâ hand tightened on the white jade railing.
She turned Her gaze southâ
Toward Nanhuang Continent!
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