Chapter 133
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Chapter 133: Title
The spiritual light flashed into existence and vanished just as swiftly, lasting no longer than the blink of an eye.
Di Yun and the others turned anxious eyes toward the Dragon Lord. Their entire foothold in the Mountain and Sea Realm depended on this very figure before them. The eerie light’s sudden appearance left them wondering if it had somehow harmed their protector.
Ao Yuan stood motionless, his mind reverberating with the primordial echoes of the Dao—an ineffable sensation transcending mortal comprehension.
When he finally stirred from his trance, he found the group staring at him intently. "There’s no cause for alarm," he assured them. "That light carried no malice."
Harmless indeed—if anything, the luminous encounter had bestowed profound enlightenment. Yet with pressing matters at hand, Ao Yuan shelved these revelations for later contemplation.
"Thank the heavens," Di Yun exhaled, tension draining from his shoulders.
"Hm." The Dragon Lord’s golden eyes remained impenetrable pools of calm, betraying nothing of his inner turbulence.
He’d recognized the light’s true target immediately. Among the nine Nine Extreme Demon Lords, one belonged to the dragon race—but that ancient being couldn’t possibly be him. Ao Yuan knew his origins too well: a mere Carp who’d ascended through the Dragon Gate, worlds apart from the eternal Yinglong that had soared through these realms since time immemorial.
Even as human cultivators addressed him as "demon lord" and lesser spirit cultivators bowed to his will…
Even with his seventh-tier cultivation—a respectable achievement for a transformed Carp, his path to the ninth tier seeming inevitable…
The title still sat uneasily upon him, though not enough to breed true shame.
The crunch of approaching footsteps announced Mr. Bai’s return. Dangling from his grip squirmed a red-haired fox, its fluffy tail clamped between trembling legs in abject terror.
"Dragon Lord," the serpentine cultivator announced, "our path is clear."
At the title, the fox’s ears flicked upward. Only one being in all the Mountain and Sea Realm merited that honorific. The creature risked a furtive glance at the black-haired figure radiating palpable authority, then immediately regretted it—the crushing weight of that golden gaze sent fresh shudders through its small frame.
"We stand in the Southern Wilderness," Mr. Bai continued, giving his captive a shake that set russet fur rippling. "The Nine-Tailed Demon Lord’s domain lies ten thousand miles northwest—Qingqiu’s sacred grounds."
The fox in his grasp—a lowly creature yet to attain even first-tier cultivation—whimpered soundlessly. Such was the hierarchy of the Mountain and Sea Realm’s four wildernesses: nine overlords carving territories that sometimes overlapped, yet always sorted themselves through the immutable calculus of power.
"Southern Wilderness… Qingqiu." Ao Yuan’s murmur hung in the air as he turned to Di Yun. "Your counsel, Captain?"
The leader exchanged glances with his team. "Protocol dictates we pay respects to the nearest sovereign. The Nine-Tailed Demon Lord’s court it is."
A nod from the Dragon Lord sealed their course.
"Mr. Bai," Di Yun addressed the serpent cultivator with measured respect, "can you pinpoint Qingqiu’s direction?"
The child-faced being smiled, a disquieting expression that didn’t reach his cold eyes. "My haunts lie eastward. But this little ancestor"—he hoisted the quivering fox higher—"carries directions in its blood. All fox-kind know the way to their progenitor’s lair."
The red pelt blurred with terrified vibrations. Memories of venomous fangs grazing its neck overrode even ancestral pride. A third-tier transformed spirit cultivator—rarer than phoenix feathers! If only its parents had blessed it with wings rather than this useless fluff…
"And the journey?" Di Yun pressed. "Ten thousand miles—how many days at your pace?"
The unspoken question lingered: How long could mortals endure a cultivator’s march?
"At my speed, it should take about half a month to reach," Mr. Bai mused. As a tier three spirit cultivator, his pace easily surpassed these mostly Innate Realm novices and the few Tier One cultivators present.
Di Yun made quick calculations. Knowing Mr. Bai’s velocity, their own journey would require at least six weeks – triple the white-haired cultivator’s estimate.
Ao Yuan stood listening, his thoughts mirroring their temporal concerns. The strange radiance they’d witnessed carried divine essence from Empress Nuwa herself. Other demon lords might already be harvesting different blessings from this celestial gift…
"Wasting days on travel serves no purpose," the dragon lord declared. "Show our path."
As confusion rippled through the group, tendrils of mist coalesced beneath their feet, thickening into cumulus cushions that lifted the entire party skyward. For the dragon race, born to command winds and waters, cloud-riding came as naturally as breathing.
At tier seven cultivation – already brushing immortality’s threshold – Ao Yuan summoned this aerial carriage with effortless grace. While others gaped, Mr. Bai reacted with practiced efficiency, jostling his vulpine compass to life.
Their cloud-platform surged windward, carving through azure skies toward distant Qingqiu.
Elsewhere in the human realm…
Eastern Sea City’s Special Bureau Branch hummed with activity. Behind the thirteenth-floor doors marked Spirit Cultivator Office, Ao Ming sorted through mounting paperwork. The Spiritual Energy Awakening brought thorny complications – flora and fauna awakening primitive intelligence, while Demonic Beast sightings multiplied exponentially.
True spirit cultivators remained rare – for every ten beasts touched by Spiritual Energy, nine became mindless Demonic Beasts rather than enlightened spirits. Thankfully, these early-stage monstrosities proved manageable for human cultivators armed with Innate Realm skills or specialized techniques.
Ao Ming’s draconic fingers traced reports of human hunting parties. These profit-driven mortals would strip the world bare given chance – Demonic Beast hides and bones fetched fortunes in cultivation markets. Only the creatures’ ferocity preserved ecological balance… for now.
The dragon official’s scaled brow furrowed. Soon, even spirit cultivators might beg humans to cull the swelling Demonic Beast populations. Natural Spiritual Energy absorption occurred effortlessly; true awakening to sentience… that precious spark remained as elusive as moonlight in a clenched fist.
Ao Ming’s amber eyes burned from sleepless nights. Only draconic endurance let him maintain this brutal pace between human demands and spiritkind’s interests.
When deities materialized above the city, the overworked bureaucrat witnessed the divine display through his office window. Unlike the prostrate low-tier spirits outside, he offered the traditional dragon salute – right fist clasped over his thrice-beating heart.
Empress Nuwa… and Your Highness Qingdi… The revelation stole his breath. Three divine lights split from Qingdi’s radiance – one settling in Ao Ming’s palm, another plunging into Eastern Sea’s abyss, the third vanishing beyond distant horizons.
Understanding flooded him as the light’s wisdom unfolded. His brothers… the celestial message sought his kin.
Free from the need for sleep, Ao Ming handled his duties with remarkable efficiency.
Yet that day found him unexpectedly abandoning routine work to contemplate the legacy within the spiritual glow. Any heritage personally bestowed by Your Highness Qingdi would naturally transcend the ordinary.
Secure in his undisturbed office, he remained untroubled by potential interruptions.
Through sunset’s crimson farewell and moonrise’s silver vigil, time flowed until dawn’s golden fingers brushed the hovering landmass above the Pacific.
Then came the transformation.
——————
The divine origins of this aerial marvel had already sparked global frenzy. Opportunistic photographers had captured the floating island’s emergence the previous day, proving humanity’s eternal thirst for wonder.
Within hours, #Pacific Floating Island# claimed the trending list’s second spot, flanked by #Gods Descend on the World# and #Xiao Tianji’s Prophecy# in first and third.
The veiled landmass maintained its mystery until sunrise.
As first light kissed the 10,000-meter-high suspension – where jetliners cruise – the shrouding mists rippled into chromatic veils. Vapors condensed into liquid-like cascades tumbling artistically from the island’s edges.
Falling thousands of meters, these aqueous illusions vaporized anew, coiling upward to rewrap the land in nebulous embrace.
This time, the obscuring mantle parted like stage curtains.
Normally invisible beyond satellite surveillance, the spectacle manifested through worldwide mirages when dawn touched the mists.
Before observers could question this defiance of physics, starry motes erupted from the island – thousands of luminous seeds scattering across Blue Star like celestial dandelions.
For three unbroken minutes, the Battleground discharged this aerial debris.
Post-expulsion, the arena maintained its alluring mystery, suspended like cosmic coquette.
"Where’s the data model? Quantify those particles—" Liang An’s demand froze as a radiant sphere materialized before him.
"Resembles the island’s emissions," he murmured. "But why here?"
"Same question," shrugged Jiang Yan, prodding his own luminous visitor. "These seem… intentional."
"Chief?" A technician raised his hand. "There’s one at my station too."
