Chapter 381: Chaos Subsides |
With the Demon-Suppression Tower’s seals repaired, the passages that had leaked from the containment zones into external space were finally plugged completely. No new black rifts appeared over Thousand Peak Spirit Mountain.
Battles large and small were still underway across the range, and the escapees that had already broken out were being swiftly dealt with.
Outside Queyun Palace, smoke curled upward as the Mountain-Guarding Disciples, aided by the Thunder Titans and the kingdom’s troops, held the most pressured line. After cutting down swaths of beasts that had charged the paths, Xuan Che began leading teams to sweep the slopes for containment targets fleeing on their own.
Near Shifang Pavilion, Immortal Yuan He stood with hundreds of Inner Disciples before a colossal mechanical device called Zhenshan Gate. Shaped like a great bell, it rose high upon a stone dais, its surface rippling with spiritual light and its core sounding a deep, solemn toll. The square around Zhenshan Gate was heaped with hundreds of carcasses of ferocious beasts, and many living demons and animated entities that could not be destroyed outright had been re-sealed, chained, and lined up to be sent back into the tower.
In the aura-rich mid-mountain bamboo groves, a shadowy pack of black wolves flowed through the shade, working with white-robed mountain patrol guards to search every suspicious hiding place.
Dorothy’s reconnaissance drone swarms skimmed over the peaks, confirming whether any hidden leakage points still lurked in the cloud sea. Sword-riding cultivators of Thousand Peak Spirit Mountain threaded through the formations of drones as they inspected the guardian barrier that blanketed the entire sky above the range.
On the path from the Viewing Terrace to Queyun Palace, stray skirmishes had not yet ended, but the victory-settlement background music had already begun to play.
Ethereal immortal music drifted down from the clouds and resounded through all the forests as a proclamation rang out: “Transmit the Vice Sect Master’s directive. The Demon-Suppression Tower is now sound. All cultivators are to search every corner of the mountains in detail. The mountain shall remain sealed, with reopening to be announced separately. Escaped fiends and Class-A containment targets are to be killed without mercy. Sentient monsters, Class-B containment targets or prisoners who surrender or are no longer able to resist are to be captured and returned to the Demon-Suppression Tower, while those who persist in resistance are to be killed without mercy. Upon discovery of a bizarre entity or unknown variant, do not make direct contact. Report and await retrieval by the tower. Submit the rolls of dead, recovered demons, prisoners, and entities to Queyun Palace.”
Yu Sheng rode on Foxy’s back, an Irene slung over each shoulder, and headed toward Queyun Palace where Xuan Che was stationed.
A flying pumpkin carriage drifted low outside the mountain path. Cinderella leaned out of the cabin, peering at the distant forests where smoke still rose, while Zheng Zhi sat up front, eyes wide as he scanned the surroundings.
Princess Rapunzel also sat on Foxy’s back beside Yu Sheng. Tilting her head up toward her nephew on the pumpkin carriage, she asked: “Hey, how are the rifts looking?”
She did not mean the leakage rifts above the cloud sea that led into the tower’s containment zones, but the vast black fissure Zheng Zhi had first seen, the one that looked as if it had split the entire Thousand Peak Spirit Mountain.
At her question, Zheng Zhi widened his eyes and studied the direction of the Demon-Suppression Tower. After a long moment he answered with some unease: “I can still see it. A pitch-black gash, like the whole mountain’s been cleaved open and the cut is just standing there. The good news is it looks stable now. It used to have web-like branches spreading out around it, but those are gone.”
The great fissure remained.
Hearing Zheng Zhi’s report, Yu Sheng said nothing, brow furrowing in thought. The Irene perched on his shoulder in her rebar form immediately craned up and chirped: “Hey, nephew, that ‘eyesight’ of yours is flirting with the impossible. I don’t think ‘high sensitivity’ even covers it anymore.”
Zheng Zhi scratched his hair: “I don’t know. I just finished the basic training last week.”
“To be fair, it is a little uncanny.” Princess Rapunzel, hearing Irene’s ribbing, nodded as if in earnest: “I’ve been a spirit-realm detective for years. I’ve seen people with high sensitivity, even one who grew tentacles after glancing at an anomalous entity, but I’ve never heard of a ‘high-sensitivity low-stability’ case like yours. It’s like your eyes are running a wall-hack. Do you usually see people with little boxes around them?”
Zheng Zhi blinked in confusion, taking a while to realize what she meant by seeing people ‘boxed’. He could only smile wryly: “I don’t. It’s not that exaggerated. But my condition is worse than before. I used to see odd shadows at most and would sometimes get lost and wander into weird side paths, but ever since what happened with my uncle—”
He paused, then let out a small sigh.
“Ever since then, when I came into contact with the Angel’s Umbilical Cord, the symptoms ramped up. I see things more and more clearly now, and when I get lost it’s not just taking a wrong turn. I can even end up walking into Otherworlds.”
“What did the Bureau’s experts say?” Princess Rapunzel asked, curious.
“What else could they say? Mostly they were surprised I’d made it to adulthood alive, then surprised that a condition this severe since childhood could get even worse. They said they had witnessed the possibilities of humans,” Zheng Zhi said with a frown. “But later they also said it made sense in its way. Essentially it’s a change triggered by exposure to angelic contamination. In their words, it’s very abnormal, but since it’s related to the Dark Angels, it’s also perfectly normal. Also, they said I’m actually lucky. Most ordinary people who come into contact with angelic contamination don’t just get stronger spirit-sight. They end up hardly human.”
Listening to his rambling, Princess Rapunzel couldn’t help a sympathetic look before confirming: “So the fissure is still there? Any change from earlier?”
“No change,” Zheng Zhi said, lifting his head to look toward the tower again. “Completely stabilized. If that counts as good news.”
“Let’s call it good news for now,” Yu Sheng finally broke his silence. He sighed, his brow still knitted. “As long as it doesn’t expand, at least the tower won’t develop new leakage points.”
Immortal Yuan Hao’s voice came from the side as he flew nearer: “What exactly is that fissure? Do you have any theories?”
“No theories, but I don’t think it’s a simple spatial crack,” Yu Sheng shook his head. “I’ve seen spatial rifts and even touched them. I can sense them without looking. The fissure Zheng Zhi ‘sees’ feels like something more complex and more abstract.”
As he spoke he glanced up at Immortal Yuan Hao.
The most handsome man of Thousand Peak Spirit Mountain, with Xuan Che a close second, was currently riding a sword, drifting along behind Cinderella’s pumpkin carriage.
Truth be told, sword-flight did not strike Yu Sheng as strange anymore. He had dealt with this group of immortals for some time. Although Xuan Che and his master usually turned into streaming clouds of light when they traveled, now and then Yu Sheng had seen Xuan Che or other disciples take a sword for convenience. He had grown used to it and even felt a twinge of envy at this stylish craft.
But riding a chainsaw sword was another matter altogether.
Yu Sheng’s eyes could not help sliding to Immortal Yuan Hao’s feet. He stared at the flying sword’s hard mechanical casing, at the chain teeth, at the trigger mechanism at the hilt and the faint stamp of steel. After holding back for a long time, he finally could not resist: “That sword of yours doesn’t look local.”
Immortal Yuan Hao laughed: “Indeed, it is not a product of Thousand Peak Spirit Mountain, but something I obtained by chance while traveling beyond the domain in my younger years. My immortal skiff suffered a failure at the time—”
Yu Sheng waved him off before he could get rolling: “We know the rest.”
Immortal Yuan Hao smacked his lips, disappointed: “I had quite a long story lined up.”
Talking thus, the party left the path that connected the rear mountain. Skirting a shattered terrace that still smoked bluish fumes, Yu Sheng saw the majestic main hall of Queyun Palace.
The earlier leakage had thrown many areas of the mountain into chaos. From the Viewing Terrace all the way here, Yu Sheng had seen the wreckage left by escaped entities and monstrous demons. Fortunately, as one of the five great sects on the Grand Void Spiritual Axis, every critical facility of Thousand Peak Spirit Mountain possessed its own independent and powerful protective system. Beyond the overarching guardian array, each palace and pavilion had its own shield. At the crucial moment these shields protected lower-ranked disciples with less fighting strength, propping up layered lines from top to bottom and preserving numerous key buildings, including Queyun Palace.
Thus, though the surrounding plazas, paths, and kiosks lay in ruins, the mighty main hall of Queyun Palace still glittered under the daylight.
Foxy minced over the broken edge of the square and trotted up to Xuan Che, who was organizing the junior brothers and sisters to clean up the battlefield. Yu Sheng poked his head out over Foxy’s forehead, looked down at Xuan Che, and asked: “How are things here?”
“Sir Yu, and Grand Senior Uncle,” Xuan Che cupped his hands with a smile. “Thanks to the aid of several mighty giants and many mages, the line before Queyun Palace held to the end. We took many injuries, but our shields bore the brunt, so we suffered no deaths. We are truly fortunate.”
No sooner had he finished than a wail rose from one corner of the square: “So you don’t have any dead, do you—then let me die! Let me just die! Ah! Why are you shabby old Daoists all so cruel…”
Hearing the commotion, Yu Sheng blinked, looked over, and saw a seven-headed serpent more than ten meters long tied into a dead knot by someone, sprawled on the square and cursing up a storm.
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