Chapter 1842: My Surname is Xu! My Surname is Wang! (1)
Editor:
Atlas Studios
The void stretched endlessly, silent as a tomb.
This was still the Ninth Star Ring.
But now, apart from Desolate, no other Venerable Gods remained.
Where the black pagoda, the behemoth, the paper figurine, and the Mother River once stood, only emptiness prevailed.
Sensing this, Xu Qing walked through the starry sky, through time itself, stepping into the fractured gaps between dimensions.
Guided by the paper fragment in his palm, he advanced step by step.
With each footfall, dawnlight blossomed across countless worlds.
A killing intent, cold enough to freeze the cosmos, seeped into the fabric of spacetime in his wake, solidifying even the faintest ripples in space.
His gazeâcalm yet containing the power to refine countless starsâpierced through layers of turbulent spacetime...
Until it locked onto an almost imperceptible coordinate, one nearly indistinguishable from the void itself.
"Found you."
Xu Qingâs eyes focused as he spoke softly.
There, in a mortal world,
within a townâs schoolhouse, piles of scrolls lay stacked.
And Xu Qingâs gaze, transcending spacetime, fixed upon the scroll at the very bottom.
This scroll was ancient, its material ordinary, utterly unremarkableâso perfectly blended into its surroundings that it seemed nothing more than a mundane object.
Were it not for the fragment in Xu Qingâs palm and his extraordinary Ordinance Law, he might never have detected its existence.
"You hid well, Droz."
Xu Qingâs voice was low, devoid of emotion. In one step, he shattered the barriers between worlds and descended into that very schoolhouse, standing before the scroll.
The moment he appeared, he acted without hesitationâhis right hand shot forward, fingers splayed, grasping not at the physical scroll but at the very concept of the "realm" it embodied!
The instant his hand closed, a deafening roar eruptedâlike the tearing of the heavensâ wombâreverberating through the world.
The shockwave stunned all living beings, leaving them dazed.
And the scroll floated up, unfurling abruptly to reveal...
A painting.
A painting of an unbroken stretch of celestial palaces, their carved beams and painted rafters exuding immortal grandeur.
Jade towers and gem pavilions hovered above seas of clouds, bathed in radiant dawnlight and auspicious vapors. Cranes soared gracefully, and divine maidens danced with ethereal beauty.
A paradise of bliss.
Yet this paradise seemed tarnished, shrouded in an inescapable deathly gray.
Under its influence, all colors turned unnaturally dull, as if weathered by time. The cranesâ eyes were hollow, the maidensâ movements stiff as marionettesâexuding an artificial, suffocating stillness.
The entire painted world seemed steeped in a carefully concealed, bone-deep decay.
And at its center, atop the frozen sea of glorious clouds, sat an enormous figure.
A paper figurine.
Droz.
No longer a flat sheet, It now wore ornate imperial robesâequally lifelessâand a beaded crown, resembling a grotesquely inflated, ridiculous yet terrifying emperor.
Countless translucent threads of fate extended from every being, every tile, every wisp of cloud in the painting, densely connecting to It like feeding tendrils.
The moment Xu Qingâs gaze landed on It, the colossal paper figurineâs eyes snapped open.
Crimson light flashed in Its pupils as It stared back at Xu Qing through the painting.
"Xu Qing!"
Drozâs expression darkened, Its mind reeling.
It knew of Its karmic ties with Xu Qing, but according to Its omniscience, It never believed Xu Qing could find It.
Its concealment was flawlessâunless Desolate truly awakened, It was confident no one could detect It.
Even the paper fragment in Xu Qingâs hand meant nothing; all Its avatars had long been severed from Its main body at the karmic level.
"This shouldnât be possible!"
Drozâs thoughts churned. What unsettled It most was Its current state.
This was the worst possible timing!
Given enough time, It was certain It could restore Its Venerable God status. And with the memories of the Umbilical Cord of the Divine God, Its confidence in ascending through It had grown.
But... all Its plans were derailed the moment Xu Qing appeared.
"As I thoughtâyour rank has fallen. Youâre no longer a Venerable God."
As Drozâs expression shifted, Xu Qing stepped into the painting.
The instant he crossed the boundary, the false paradise trembled like a stagnant mirror struck by a boulder!
The deathly gray membrane rippled violently, trying to expel him. The rigid divine maidens, cranes, and spirit beastsâlike activated puppetsâlunged at Xu Qing with grotesque smiles, filling the sky.
They werenât physical entities but curses and resentment manifesting as the paintingâs rules. A single touch would corrode the soul and taint the origin.
Xu Qingâs face remained impassive. His Ordinance Law threadsâblack and whiteâspun around him, radiating outward in layers like apocalyptic tides.
Where they passed, the painted puppets tore apart like paper in a storm, disintegrating without even a scream.
The gray membrane wailed a soul-piercing shriek, warping grotesquely under the monochrome onslaught, its colors rapidly draining away!
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