Chapter 60
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Chapter 60: Title
Wait, does Ji Lang know Xiao Tianji? But isn’t Xiao Tianji allied with Leng Xingwen? How could someone from hundreds of years ago know someone from thousands of years ago?
Chaotic—utterly chaotic.
Instantly, all eyes fell upon Ji Lang and Leng Xingwen, occasionally darting toward the mirror that had materialized.
“You know Xiao Tianji—?” Leng Xingwen blurted, even forgetting to append “senior” in his shock.
“Is he here now?”
“Won’t you show yourself?” Ji Lang rotated the scabbard in his hand with a subtle threat lingering in the motion.
The mirror suddenly shimmered with a faint glow, coalescing into a figure clad in feathered robes, a starry crown atop his head, cloud-patterned boots beneath, his hair raven-black and features striking.
“Greetings, Senior Ji Lang,” Xiao Tianji clasped his hands in salute. Though he uttered “senior,” his tone lacked deference, as if addressing an equal.
“Spying through the Kunlun Mirror—how novel,” Ji Lang remarked, the corner of his lips quirking.
Kunlun Mirror? So that was the mirror’s name? Leng Xingwen shot his friend an incredulous look. This was beyond audacious—the legendary Kunlun Mirror, a divine artifact, being used for… voyeurism? Did divine artifacts not possess dignity?
“They say Xiao Tianji excels at divining heavenly secrets and tracing the Dao’s path. Did your calculations foresee Silver Light being unsheathed today?” Ji Lang’s hand rested on the scabbard, though the blade remained untouched.
“I am but a mere wisp of my spirit here. I beg Senior’s leniency. All I do aligns with Heaven’s will.”
“Even spying?” Leng Xingwen’s brow twitched. Years apart had evidently amplified his friend’s eccentricities.
“Secrets of heaven cannot be disclosed.” Xiao Tianji half-concealed his lips with a sleeve, gaze sweeping over the onlookers. “Had Senior not exposed me, I would not have manifested today.”
Ji Lang pressed his lips thin, contemplative. After a pause, he declared, “Very well. Out of respect for… a senior’s standing, I shall let this matter rest.”
Nearby, Yan Hua glared at Xiao Tianji, whose sudden “live streams” always ambushed them. The man’s handsome features did nothing to quell Yan Hua’s irritation.
Even Xi Ning harbored resentment. Without Xiao Tianji’s meddling, the Special Bureau might have prepared more thoroughly instead of being herded like ducks to slaughter.
“I know your thoughts,” Xiao Tianji’s eyes settled on Yan Hua and Xi Ning. Lowering his sleeve, he smiled. “The live streams will continue.”
The statement nearly choked Yan Hua with indignation.
“Time is almost up. I must depart now.” Xiao Tianji folded his hands into wide sleeves, his starlit eyes calmly regarding the assembly.
“After all these years, won’t you stay to converse?” Leng Xingwen called out.
“Another occasion will arise.” As Xiao Tianji’s form dissolved into mist, the mirror vanished—proof of his departure.
Whether he still peered through the Kunlun Mirror remained anyone’s guess.
“Why stare so?” Leng Xingwen started, realizing Yan Hua and Xi Ning’s gazes pinned him.
Xi Ning sighed, composing himself before addressing Ji Lang. “Might Senior enlighten us about the Kunlun Mirror?”
“Born of Kunlun Mountain during the Ancient Era, it is a divine artifact that chooses its master. Eight hundred years ago, it emerged from the mountain and came into my possession. Two months past, Xiao Tianji sought me out.” Ji Lang recounted plainly, withholding nothing.
“So you mean the Mirror chose Xiao Tianji?” Leng Xingwen’s composure faltered. Records stated the Kunlun Mirror could observe all creation and aid divination—a perfect tool for its new master.
“No wonder he livestreams at will,” Xi Ning murmured. “The Mirror’s essentially an all-seeing camera.”
“Senior, how did you notice the Kunlun Mirror?”
“Having wielded the Kunlun Mirror for eight centuries, I can vaguely sense its aura even without formal mastery. But as Xiao Tianji’s cultivation grows stronger and the mirror’s own power to obscure celestial designs and conceal its presence increases, detection will prove far more challenging next time.”
“Xiao Tianji’s divinations never lack purpose. His warnings deserve grave consideration,” Ji Lang murmured with a weary exhale.
“…He recently spoke of the Mountain and Sea Realm and imperial nectar.” Leng Xingwen’s chest constricted at the admission.
The calm before the storm shattered.
Since that fateful night when Demonic Beasts first breached the human realm from their shadowed world, sporadic sightings had plagued the land. Modern surveillance proved a saving grace—each emergence triggered instant alerts, mobilizing military forces to swiftly eradicate the threats.
Dissection tables now hosted Demonic Beast carcasses as routine specimens. Researchers cataloged anatomical data while alchemists and artificers experimented with transforming remains into elixirs, armaments, and talismans—no resource left untapped.
Within a fortnight, the invasion escalated dramatically. Daily incursions ballooned from single digits to nearly a hundred, accompanied by unsettling shifts in the beasts’ capabilities.
Power disparities widened alarmingly among the hordes. Ordinary specimens now marched alongside tier one and two variants, while occasional tier three monstrosities began emerging from the rift.
“Why aren’t their strength levels constrained?”
“Mindless beasts cannot threaten the natural order,” Leng Xingwen recited Xiao Tianji’s cryptic answer.
The Special Bureau teetered on collapse. Ancient practitioners and newly empowered extraordinary individuals alike were stretched thin, the recent cultivation technique dissemination offering little respite—even abundant Spiritual Energy couldn’t forge experts overnight.
Every available agent deployed, yet numbers remained insufficient. Military blockades contained rural outbreaks by isolating infested woodlands, while urban incursions fell to Practitioners’ swift interventions.
Unbeknownst to the Bureau, this invasion merely heralded darker tides.
Mountain and Sea Realm.
Within this primordial domain lay a sanctum where lesser Demonic Beasts and spirit cultivators dared not tread—a gathering place exclusive to tier nine entities. These apex beings comprised either ancient demons roused from eons-long slumber or divinely favored survivors of the Great War. Since the realm’s forging, only nine such supreme existences endured.
Lower-tier denizens whispered theories, particularly ambitious tier seven and eight demons suspecting ascension required slaying an existing tier nine—a bloody succession law woven into the realm’s fabric.
Amidst jagged peaks that clawed at the heavens, fifteen battered human cultivators appeared insect-like against the gargantuan figures surrounding them. Above, the three-legged golden crow abandoned its solar guise, the unstable spatial vortex overhead demanding its full attention.
The golden avian cast a disdainful glance at the pitiful humans below.
“What assurance do we have against their betrayal?” The obsidian Phoenix settled on a colossal parasol tree, her plumage glinting like liquid night. This mountain range answered to her will, the sacred tree’s presence making her its de facto sovereign.
“Bai Ze, your counsel?” She turned to the reclining beast—snow-furred and dual-horned, radiating ancient wisdom.
“Humans defile our realm’s purity.” The nine-tailed fox of Qingqiu lashed her flaring tails, each motion etching arcane patterns in the air. Her vulpine features left no doubt regarding her noble lineage.
Yun Han gnawed his fruit nervously. After weeks of cautious survival, being snatched by the golden crow and thrust into this conclave of legends surpassed his wildest fears. Hearing these colossi speak human tongue stunned him—their sheer scale dwarfed even the jiangshi he’d previously encountered.
Through terrified observation, he’d identified the eight mythic beings: Bai Ze the omniscient, Qingqiu’s vulpine queen, the Moon-eating Celestial Dog, Nine Heavens Phoenix, ravenous Taotie, malevolent Qiongqi, the solar crow, obsidian qilin… and the absent legendary dragon. Each radiated cataclysmic power, their casual demeanor more unnerving than outright hostility.
Professor Zhang’s initial diplomatic overtures had been ignored until the offer came—freedom in exchange for serving the spirit tribes. The proposition reeked of desperation, yet none refused. What choice had they, these cultivation novices with their peculiar gadgets, against primordial lords?
“The spatial rifts now gape wide enough to unleash tens of thousands,” rumbled the ebony hound bearing a crimson lunar sigil.
“Tier two and below may depart if destiny permits,” Bai Ze intoned without rising, his closed eyes belying acute awareness.
“Previous breaches were mere cracks!” Taotie’s maw split in a grin that could swallow villages. “United, we might shatter an exit worthy of our stature.”
“Eons of slumber haven’t blessed you with wit,” the black Phoenix sneered. “Would you rouse Empress Nuwa’s seals through reckless force?”
Qiongqi shot his sibling a withering glare. “Must I endure your idiocy through another epoch?”
The humans trembled. These beings’ escape would bring cataclysm. Their mere presence warped reality—how much devastation would intentional malice wreak?
“Discard your cultivation like that senile dragon, and freedom follows.” The nine-tailed fox’s chuckle held daggers. “But could you bear it, dear Taotie?” Her gaze drifted to the quivering spatial barrier.
“My lineage persists beyond this prison.” Her whisper carried both venom and longing. “This flesh may be the last of Qingqiu here… but our blood still flows in the human realm.” For the first time in millennia, hope softened her ancient eyes.
