northernbook Chapter 1054 Slaughter and Reincarnation Intertwined and Collided
Chapter 1054 Slaughter and Reincarnation Intertwined and Collided
The moment the Divine Mirage stepped out of the contract space, the scenery before Su Xiaoya and the others changed instantly, like a scene from a movie.
Looking up again, there was no trace of the Jade Pool of the Burial Dragon Abyss and the egg-like creatures; instead, there was a vast and boundless wasteland.
On the desolate plain, there is something that stretches across the sky like an ancient divine mountain descending from the heavens—that is the mirage.
Its body is majestic and imposing, piercing the clouds as if it were about to break free from the cloud layer. Its base stretches for dozens of miles, blending seamlessly with the vast earth. From a distance, it is hard to tell whether the mountain gave it its spirit or whether it transformed into the mountain.
Its dark blue scales resembled the rock strata of the mountain, each scale measuring over ten feet square, layer upon layer, stretching to the horizon. The edges of the scales shimmered with dark purple light, and silvery mist dripped from the gaps, transforming into swirling mirages upon landing, enveloping the surrounding area for hundreds of miles in a dreamlike atmosphere.
Whenever it breathes, its scales open and close slightly like ripples on water, and the mirage gas overflowing from the gaps suddenly surges like a flood bursting its banks, or like thousands of silver snakes weaving into a semi-transparent curtain of light in the air.
On the screen of light, one side depicts a bustling and prosperous human world with pavilions and towers standing side by side, while the other side abruptly switches to a ghostly realm:
The dark red River Styx surged with foul-smelling, turbid waves, its surface covered with vibrant, blood-red spider lilies. Their petals were crimson, their stems slender and bony, and the leafless flowers swayed in the turbid waves. Drops of red dew from their stamens fell into the river like stars, creating tiny, blood-red ripples.
On the river floated incomplete skeletons and decaying shipwrecks. Several ghostly boats with black awnings swayed with the current, their gunwales adorned with pale, ghostly lamps. The eerie green light illuminated the boatmen's ashen faces as they expressionlessly rowed their wooden oars. As the oars cut through the water, they stirred up strings of ghostly blue flames. Petals of the red spider lilies drifted with the waves like kites with broken strings, clinging to the deck like congealed bloodstains.
Su Xiaoya's eyes narrowed, and her heart ached—what had the Divine Mirage gone through?
Why did this change occur?
Clearly, He simply advanced through a period of slumber, didn't He?
But why would He conjure up such a horrific scene—as if returning from a journey through mountains of corpses and seas of blood?
Yu Shuheng's expression was equally solemn; the aura of this divine mirage was vastly different from when they first met.
On the back of the mirage, several peak-like thorns suddenly rise up, the highest of which pierces the sky, with ice-crystal-like prisms at the top, refracting a seven-colored halo, and making a bell-like hum when the wind blows.
Its limbs were as thick as towering pillars, deeply embedded in the ground, and its claws were as sharp as divine weapons, gleaming with a cold, hard metallic luster. Every slight movement caused the earth to tremble, and cracks spread like a spider web.
As it moves, the claws glide across the rocks, sending up bursts of bluish-gold sparks that transform into tiny mirages upon landing.
Beside the shepherds, woodcutters, and fishing boats in the illusory world, a ghostly scene simultaneously arises—a little demon with a blue face and fangs holds chains and drags a bloodless soul forward. The soul's steps are unsteady, its clothes are tattered, its eyes are full of despair, and its feet tread on scattered petals of the other shore flower, leaving shallow bloodstains with each step.
At the distant Bridge of Helplessness, Meng Po, dressed in a gray-black robe, held out a rough pottery bowl to the departed souls. The soup in the bowl had an eerie dark red hue. After drinking the soup, the departed souls' eyes gradually became vacant. They turned around and stepped into the reincarnation passage. At the entrance of the passage, black mist swirled, and Ox-Head and Horse-Face stood holding whips, their expressions majestic and terrifying.
Meanwhile, the illusion of the Asura battlefield unfolded further away: under the black and red sky, countless Asuras wore tattered armor, which was covered with bite marks and cleavage, some of which were even inlaid with half a broken sword.
They either wielded blood-stained broadswords, the blades shrouded in a black and red aura of malevolence, capable of tearing through the air and creating dark purple blade flashes when they slashed.
Or they might grip a bone spear tightly, its tip condensing a ghostly green poisonous mist that, once it pierces the enemy's body, transforms into vine-like black energy that instantly devours flesh and blood.
Even more terrifying is the Asura with three heads and six arms, each arm wielding an axe, halberd, hook, fork, shield, and hammer, each swing bringing forth a bloody storm.
Some Asuras spewed black and red blood mist from their severed limbs and broken arms, yet they still roared and pounced on their enemies. Their internal organs were dragged out from their wounds, leaving long trails of blood on the ground. The dripping blood nourished the spider lilies at their feet, making the petals even more alluring.
Some Asuras spew Samadhi Fire from their mouths; the flames are dark purple and burn wildly when they land on armor, even burning bones to ashes.
Some Asuras were surrounded by the vengeful spirits of those who died in battle. These spirits condensed into black mist, emitting shrill screams, and transformed into streams of black energy that burrowed into the Asuras' bodies, causing their muscles to bulge and their attacks to become increasingly ferocious.
On the battlefield, shattered weapons and mangled bones piled up like mountains, and dark red blood flowed into streams, following the terrain and eventually joining the River of Oblivion, making the river water even thicker. The spider lilies on the riverbank, nourished by this blood, grew wildly into bushes half a person's height, their stems entwined around the bones, and tiny droplets of blood condensed on their petals...
Underworld!
The World Tree connects the three realms.
The underworld is one of the three realms.
As the World Tree, Yu Shuheng naturally possesses inherited memories of the underworld.
However, Yu Shuheng, this unique Jianmu tree, not only successfully transformed, but also the inherited memories of the World Tree are always like opening a blind box—only when triggered can the corresponding inherited memories be obtained.
Su Xiaoya was unaware that Yu Shuheng had accidentally unlocked the inherited memories; she was still carefully observing the Divine Mirage—the Divine Mirage had changed too much.
It is often said that growth always comes at a price.
What terrified Su Xiaoya the most were the eyes of the mirage.
Those were not the eyes of ordinary beasts, but two giant lanterns hanging on either side of their heads, each over three zhang in diameter. The lanterns were covered by translucent membranous eyelids, which shimmered with a soft amber light as they opened and closed. With each tremor of the eyelids, tiny particles of light fell, transforming into fleeting illusions upon touching the ground—either a secluded valley filled with peach blossoms or a frozen snowfield—before fading into the darkness...
The dark outline of the ghost town emerged from the fog. The city walls were built of dark purple rocks, and the tops of the walls were covered with pale bone flags. The flags were wrapped with withered spider lily stems. When the wind blew the flags, they made a wailing sound.
The city's streets and alleys are narrow and winding, with dilapidated houses on both sides. Behind the window frames, one can vaguely see eerie green eyes moving about. Occasionally, a female ghost draped in black gauze floats by, her skirt sweeping across the ground, leaving a trail of cold frost. Her mournful cries echo through the streets and alleys, heartbreaking to witness.
His pupils were bottomless vortexes, their blackness dotted with specks of golden light, as if countless illusions were floating within them:
Amidst the bustling cities and battlefields of the human world, the scene of the underworld becomes increasingly clear—the Ten Kings of Hell sit in the Hall of the Underworld, while outside the hall, the fields of red spider lilies stretch for miles along the banks of the River of Oblivion, their red petals covering the sky and earth. Among the flowers, lonely souls wander and weep, reaching out to touch the flowers, but their fingertips pass straight through the petals and turn into a wisp of green smoke.
As the scenes of the eighteen levels of hell cycled, the battle on the Asura battlefield grew increasingly brutal: the middle head of a three-headed Asura spewed corrosive black mist, the left head roared to intimidate enemy souls, and the right head revealed bloodthirsty fangs. It held a trident, the shaft of which was engraved with strange runes. When it swung it, it summoned gusts of black wind, splitting the opponent's body in two. Blood gushed out and splashed onto the spider lilies, making the flowers bloom larger and more vibrant, with the edges of the petals gleaming with a cold, metallic light.
Another Asura rode a bone dragon, whose wings spread wide, blotting out the sky. The dragon's wings were covered with sharp bone spikes, and its claws gripped several dead souls. The dead souls struggled and howled in the claws, and were eventually sent into the Asura's mouth. The chewed bone and flesh fragments fell from between its teeth, nourishing the land of the battlefield.
There were also Asuras forming battle formations, their weapons clashing and unleashing black lightning. The lightning struck the ground, blasting open deep craters from which more low-level Asuras crawled out, surging towards the enemy formation like a tide and tearing their opponents to shreds.
The screams of the sinful souls and the roars of the Asuras pierced through the illusion, sending chills down one's spine.
When the Shen ...
The moment they opened their eyes, two beams of light as thick as pillars burst through the mist, causing ripples in the void and even distorting the light into strange arcs.
As the beam of light swept across the ground, a shimmering, iridescent sheen intertwined with a ghostly black mist. Suddenly, clusters of graves appeared beside the cooking smoke from the villages.
Scattered spider lilies dotted the grass on the grave mounds, the inscriptions on the tombstones were blurred and illegible, and will-o'-the-wisps flickered among the graves. Occasionally, a zombie would burst from the ground, its bluish-gray skin taut and its fangs bared, lunging towards the direction beyond the illusion, only to disintegrate into mist the moment it touched the real air...
Meanwhile, fragments of the Asura battlefield piled up, and a broken Asura sword phantom was inserted into the grave. Bloodstains and spider lily juice dripped slowly from the blade, and the black and red aura of Asura remained on the blade. The sounds of fighting could be faintly heard from the blade.
The head of the divine mirage was perched at the front of its mountain-like body, its snout broad and thick, the corners of its mouth slightly upturned as if holding an ancient smile, its exposed fangs like inverted ice peaks, gleaming with a chilling white light.
Each time it exhales, its fangs become covered with a thin layer of frost. As the frost rises, it transforms into tiny mirage dragon phantoms, swirling and dancing around the fangs. Wherever these phantoms pass, the illusions of the human world and the ghostly realm intertwine even more intensely.
Beside the scholar who has been studying hard by the window, a fierce ghost lingers by the candlelight; beside the chivalrous couple holding hands on the cliff, the outline of the Bridge of Helplessness is faintly superimposed, and the figure of Meng Po appears and disappears in the mist. The flowers of the other shore of the River of Oblivion spread along the edge of the illusion, and the petals fall on the hem of the couple's clothes, turning into dark red marks in an instant.
At this moment, the severed limbs and fragments of weapons from the Asura battlefield were also interspersed. A bone spear phantom flew past the scholar's desk and nailed to the wall in the illusion. Half a piece of Asura armor was still hanging from the spear tip. The black and red evil energy on the armor slowly seeped into the wall, corroding the wall surface and creating strange patterns.
Half of the Asura's arm lay at the feet of the heroine, its fingers still twitching slightly, the petals of the other shore flower tightly held in its palm turning into a wisp of bloody mist upon touching real air.
Su Xiaoya seemed to understand why the Mirage was ranked as one of the four ancient evil beasts.
The four ancient evil beasts—Shen, Ao, Ao, and Biao—are all extremely fierce, yet each is also incredibly mystical.
The Ao, which Nuwa used to mend the sky, is one of these four evil beasts.
If it weren't for her experience with the "Hami Melon Floating Island" and her encounter with Princess Kunpeng, Su Xiaoya's understanding of the Divine Turtle might have been the same as that of ordinary people!
Indeed, prejudice in people's hearts is like a mountain, always blinding them.
Therefore, Su Xiaoya will never judge people by their appearance again.
She just wanted to understand why the mirage had suddenly put them into the illusion.
Therefore, she observed very carefully.
The divine mirage has a pair of curved jade horns on its head, covered with spiral patterns, shrouded in faint colorful clouds and wisps of black mist. Water droplets dripping from the tips of the horns turn into crystalline pearls upon landing, yet they carry a bone-chilling cold. As the pearls roll down, they trace tiny tracks on the ground, within which are miniature scenes of galaxy movement, interspersed with fragments of the cycle of the underworld and the battlefield of Asura.
The souls of the dead turned into specks of light and merged into the Milky Way, then fell from the other side of the Milky Way. Some turned into crying babies, while others fell directly into the battlefield of Asura, picked up weapons and joined the fight. The petals of the other shore flower bloomed and withered in the trajectory. The illusions of life and death, war and destruction cycled back and forth, mysterious and eerie.
When He lies still, He is a silent, solitary mountain, the luster of His scales blending into the rocks. Only the soft light in His eyes appears and disappears in the mist. The magnificent scenery of the human world, the other side of the River of Oblivion, and the battlefield of Asura slowly flow in the mirage, like an ancient scroll interwoven with life and death, illusion and slaughter.
With the slightest movement, the clouds and mist churn, light and shadow shift, and the entire "mountain" alternates between reality and illusion within the mirage, causing the illusion to change dramatically:
In an instant, bustling cities turned into ruins, snow-capped palaces became scorched wastelands, the turbid waters of the River of Oblivion flowed over the bones of the battlefield of Asura, and the flowers of the other shore bloomed wildly amidst the flames of war, their stems entwined with weapons and their petals covering corpses. The Palace of the Underworld and the Bridge of Helplessness twisted and dissipated only to be reborn. Reality and illusion, the human world and the underworld, slaughter and reincarnation intertwined and collided, exuding a breathtakingly magnificent aura. It was truly worthy of being an ancient spirit that wielded illusion and turned dreams into reality.
Just as Su Xiaoya was observing intently, the Divine Mirage suddenly let out a low roar, the sound like rolling thunder, which shook the wasteland.
In an instant, the surrounding illusion began to twist wildly, like a torn scroll. The magnificent human scene was mercilessly devoured by the Netherworld, and the bloody aura of the Asura battlefield rushed towards us like a tidal wave.
Su Xiaoya and Yu Shuheng lost their footing and swayed, almost falling to the ground.
A hint of seriousness flashed in Su Xiaoya's eyes, "It seems that the Divine Mirage has lost control of the illusion."
Yu Shuheng also snapped out of his reverie about the inherited memories.
At this moment, a powerful black energy surged out from the body of the Divine Mirage, rushing towards them like a group of ferocious demons, baring their fangs and claws.
Su Xiaoya quickly cast a spell of light, shining brightly like a dazzling star.
Yu Shuheng simultaneously activated the World Tree's purifying power, flowing like a clear spring through the darkness...
The divine mirage gradually quieted down, and the evil spirits, like frightened birds and beasts, vanished without a trace in an instant.
The divine mirage slowly opened its eyes, the light in them softening like the warm sun of spring. It gently exhaled a breath, like a warm spring breeze, tightly enveloping Su Xiaoya and Yu Shuheng.
Su Xiaoya was overjoyed; it seemed that the Divine Mirage had regained its senses.
At this moment, the divine mirage sent out a thought: "Come with me, I have something important to tell you."
After saying that, its enormous body, as large as a mountain, slowly moved and headed into the depths of the wasteland.