Volume 3 Chapter 40

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Volume 3 Chapter 40: The Catastrophe

Surrounded by vast lands, with the endless ocean in the east, it stretches beyond the horizon, unexplored by anyone. — "Strange Tales of Mountains and Seas—Landscape Chapter"

The Eastern Sea, with its endless blue waters, subtly meets the light blue sky at the edge of the world, as if the entire visible world was painted in a simple blue hue.

Beautiful, yet monotonous.

In the sky, the blazing sun and drifting clouds became the only embellishments in this blue world.

In this beautifully dazzling blue sea world, nearly a hundred master cultivators at or above the Condensed Core Stage were flying swiftly above the water, but their faces lacked the composure a true master should have; instead, they appeared a bit disheveled, and their eyes were filled with anxiety.

Not to mention the esteemed positions these cultivators held in their own sects or in the cultivation world, even for a Condensed Core Stage cultivator who had faced countless challenges over the centuries, such urgency and disarray were rarely witnessed.

But now, facing the potential danger that could threaten the direct disciples who would normally inherit their legacy, these Condensed Core Stage cultivators couldn’t worry about their manners and could only press on, hoping to reach Huandao Island as soon as possible.

Though the surrounding blue sea and sky were breathtakingly beautiful, these cultivators had neither the time nor desire to pause and admire this azure world, not only because they were in a hurry but also because they deeply understood the terrifying dangers hidden beneath its splendor.

The East Sea was like a beautiful but deadly enchantress, alluring yet perilous, with a capricious and unpredictable temperament.

During these two days of travel, these Condensed Core Stage masters had experienced at least six attacks from sea demon beasts and five even more terrifying oceanic storms.

Sea demon beasts that could ignore the pressure emanating from the cultivators and attack them were at least of high Earth level, possessing earth-shaking power. Although these beasts were fearsome, nearly a hundred Condensed Core Stage masters could easily defeat them together. Yet, when faced with storms that seemed capable of destroying the world, the cultivators, with at least Fake Golden Core Stage power and some even at the late stage of the Golden Core Stage, could only barely ensure their own safety.

Once a storm at sea arises, even before considering the terrifying power of the fierce winds that seem to cover the sky and earth, the water droplets carried by the wind can be as powerful as a Human Level magical artifact, leaving all the cultivators exhausted and in disarray.

But now, the cultivators can finally breathe a sigh of relief because they know they are not far from Huandao Island.

At this moment, about half of the cultivators are maintaining a spindle-shaped shield used for flying and defense, rapidly heading towards Huandao Island, while the other half meditate inside the shield to recover their Spirit Qi sooner so they can switch with those maintaining the shield in an hour.

The sect leader of "Qingxu Gate," Qinglingzi, stands at the forefront of the shield, holding a compass and constantly correcting the flying direction of the shield.

Even cultivators at the Condensed Core Stage can easily lose their way in the vast eastern sea.

Suddenly, the palace master of "White Lady Palace," Li Tianying, who was meditating with eyes closed, opens her eyes and asks Qinglingzi, "Qingling Taoist friend, how much longer until we reach Huandao Island?"

Qinglingzi looks at the compass in hand and says, "Another half an hour."

Hearing Qinglingzi’s words, worry in Li Tianying’s eyes deepens. It has been two days since the anomaly began, and although it’s unclear who is causing the trouble, the fact that the instigator destroyed the "Mirror Technique" before the sect leaders and elders at Zhantai proves they have at least the cultivation level of the late stage of the Golden Core Stage. How can the disciples on Huandao Island hope to survive against such a master?

Seeing the worry in Li Tianying’s eyes, knowing she is concerned about the safety of her beloved disciples, Master Xu Heng of "Zen Cloud Temple" reassures, "Li Taoist friend, do not worry. The disciples on Huandao Island are not weak, and even if there’s danger, they have the strength to resist for a while."

As the abbot of "Zen Cloud Temple," Master Xu Heng was highly respected in the cultivation world. Even though Li Tianying didn’t quite agree with him, she nodded silently in agreement.

Xuan Jian from Penance Valley, however, had a flash of insight in his eyes. The recent changes on Huandao Island could be attributed to Penance Valley’s inadequate protection, which bore a significant responsibility. Therefore, the cultivators from Penance Valley remained silent along the way. But now, he suddenly spoke slowly, "I don’t know if any of you taoist friends have noticed, but it has been 2,800 years since the ‘Spirit Purging Cult’ wreaked havoc in the cultivation world."

Hearing Xuan Jian’s words, all the cultivators, whether meditating or maintaining the protective barrier, were slightly shaken and then fell silent.

In fact, the cultivators had thought of this long ago, but no one mentioned it.

Long ago, thousands of years past, human cultivators used strategies to greatly weaken the Shura Clan, sealing them one by one. Since then, the entire cultivation world has followed a pattern where every 2,800 years, some calamity or another appears. In these disasters, no faction or cultivator, regardless of strength or humility, can escape.

First was the battle between cultivators and demon cultivators over ten thousand years ago, then came the wars among the major sects for the paradise, the ambitions of the Immortal Emperor to dominate the cultivation world, followed by the emergence of the Demon Lord and the Demon Emperor. The most recent event was when the "Spirit Purging Cult" disturbed the Immortal Realm. Coincidentally, each calamity occurred 2,800 years apart, and after every disaster, the Immortal Realm suffered great losses in strength, with a generation of elites nearly wiped out.

Some cultivators believe this pattern occurs because cultivators steal the essence of heaven, and every 2,800 years, the Heavenly Way imposes due punishment.

However, all the cultivators present had reached the Condensed Core Stage and achieved the realm of "Heaven and Man’s Response." The elders of various factions who reached the Mahayana Stage attained the "Unity of Sky and Earth" realm, so they certainly didn’t believe the Heavenly Way punishes.

The Heavenly Way is like the sea, and Spirit Qi is like water within it. The sea never punishes those who drink its water.

But if it isn’t the judgment of Heaven, how can we explain that a calamity occurs in the cultivation world every 2,800 years? One or two times may be a coincidence, but what about ten or eight times in a row? Is it still a coincidence?

But if it isn’t coincidence, then why is the time between each cataclysm so consistent? Is someone secretly manipulating things behind the scenes?

And if that’s the case, which powerful individual or organization has existed for tens of thousands of years yet remains unknown?

It seems improbable, but compared to the talk of coincidence or Heavenly Way punishment, this explanation has the greatest likelihood.

This idea has circulated among the high ranks of various sects for a long time, and each sect has secretly investigated, yet found nothing. But every time they ponder this possibility, even the experts and grandmasters, usually calm and composed, cannot help but feel a chill in their hearts.

Who, or what organization, has been able to secretly control the entire Cultivation World for thousands of years?

And why are they doing this?

This time, another 2,800 years have ended. Could the anomaly during the Newcomer Competition mark the beginning of a new cataclysm?

If the world is a chessboard, then who is the one setting the pieces?

Everything is just a mystery. Until the one who set it up reveals the truth, no one can know the answer.

So after hearing Xuan Jian’s words, all the cultivators present couldn’t help but think of such legends, and many fell silent. Only the main hall master of the "Eight Wilderness Hall," Man Tian, showed a hint of joy in his eyes. It’s known that in every catastrophe, some sects decline while others rise, and currently, half of the six Holy Lands rose from the last catastrophe. Will it be his "Eight Wilderness Hall" that rises this time?

As for the Sect Master of "Liuhe Gate," Taoist Jiuze, besides the joy in his eyes, he felt more complicated emotions. His "Liuhe Gate" was once called a Holy Land long ago, with a reputation even higher than the current six Holy Lands, but it declined during the fifth catastrophe, nearly facing extinction. Will "Liuhe Gate" seize this catastrophe to rise to glory again this time?

Meanwhile, the sect leaders of the six Holy Lands showed expressions of worry and contemplation, clearly starting to plan for their sects’ future fates.

Although they usually tell their lower-ranking disciples that the talk of catastrophes is unreliable and merely coincidental, at this moment, the higher-ups of each sect would rather believe it’s true. In the silent worry about the catastrophe, for a while, the sect leaders and elders even forgot about the safety of the elite disciples on Huandao Island.

"Will a new catastrophe begin after two thousand eight hundred years of peace in the Cultivation World?" Master Xu Heng softly murmured to himself, looking at the turbulent waves and hidden currents beneath the calm sea surface.

…

On Huandao Island, Xu Qingfan stared blankly at the tightly clenched fist on Wang Qingjun’s severed arm.

What could it be? So important that he held it tight even before dying?

Before, Zhang Hualing had warned himself to pay more attention to Wang Qingjun. Bai Qingfu had also implied in his words that he should be cautious of Wang Qingjun, who was always mysterious. Could it all have something to do with what he now held in his hand?

Or perhaps, it’s just an insignificant object?

For a moment, Xu Qingfan thought of many things and hesitated slightly but couldn’t resist his curiosity. He silently apologized and then pried open Wang Qingjun’s dead fingers one by one. Finally, what Wang Qingjun held in his hand after death appeared before Xu Qingfan’s eyes.

It was a note with lines resembling a poem written on it.

Just as Xu Qingfan tried to examine it closely, his body shuddered slightly. Turning his head, he saw three figures quickly approaching in his direction. Leading them was a cold, white-clad girl from the White Lady Palace.