Passing through the canyon sealed by the five-colored cocoon felt like stepping from one nightmare into another—older, deeper, and far more silent.
The air was thick with decay, mixed with a metallic tang of rust and the dry dust of countless ages.
Light filtered weakly through narrow cracks high in the cliff walls, falling in scattered beams that barely illuminated what lay ahead—an endless expanse of ancient battlefield ruins.
There were no banners fluttering, no mountains of corpses. Only a silence so absolute it seemed time itself had scoured all life away.
Enormous bones, pale as carved jade, were scattered across the wasteland. Some rib bones arched high like gateways; some skulls were the size of houses. They belonged to colossal beasts long extinct, lying motionless among shattered weapons and fallen stone pillars.
Though eroded by the passage of ages, the remains still exuded a faint aura of oppression.
All around were fragments of weapons and armor—dull, corroded, broken beyond repair.
Their design was archaic, utterly unlike any known forging style. Dustin picked up half of a rusted sword; as his fingers brushed its surface, he felt the faint traces of spiritual power within, long since decayed, leaving only a cold residue of death.
Massive shield fragments jutted from the ground, marred with enormous claw marks and traces of melting—as if scorched by unimaginable heat.
The ground itself was covered with craters and fissures, some so deep that a chill wind seeped from below.
It was not hard to imagine how earth-shattering the battle here must once have been.
“Wh-what… what is this place?” Green Bamboo’s voice trembled as she clung close to Margaret.
It was an oppressive grandeur born not of mere danger, but of time, of destruction, of something vast and unknowable.
“These bones, these weapons… they’re not something ordinary warriors or armies could possess. Could this be… the legendary ruins of the ancients?”
Margaret’s face was pale yet resolute. She slowly turned, taking in the scene, her eyes wide with awe and confusion.
Her gaze caught on a partially intact wall etched with faint murals and strange inscriptions.
The group gathered around. The mural depicted scenes almost impossible to decipher: winged, lightning-wreathed humanoid beings clashing with monstrous beasts; massive formations channeling the power of the stars; giants collapsing like mountains.
The images were faded, yet the aura of tragedy and grandeur was unmistakable.
Dustin’s eyes swept across the wall until they rested on several clearer inscriptions.
The script was neither seal nor clerical, elegant yet complex, carrying a faint resonance of Dao.
“This is… Cloud Script?” Margaret murmured uncertainly. “I once saw a similar style in a fragment kept in the imperial archives. It was said to be the writing of ancient cultivators—each character imbued with Dao rhythm, capable of communing with spirits.”
Dustin nodded slightly. Though not fluent, he could sense the lingering Dao resonance in the runes and discern several key meanings: ‘Seal,’ ‘Suppress,’ ‘Calamity,’ ‘Jade Pool,’ ‘Hanging Garden.’
“‘Jade Pool’? ‘Hanging Garden’?” Margaret’s eyes lit up with hope. “Ancient texts mention Kunlun’s Hanging Garden and Penglai’s Jade Pool—dwelling places of immortals, where divine treasures and elixirs of eternal life were born! Could the elixir we seek be there?”
Dustin pondered for a moment, then pointed to a section of the mural showing a floating palace surrounded by waterfalls and luminous springs. Next to it, the Cloud Script faintly read “Hanging Garden.”
“Judging from these fragments, if an immortal elixir truly exists on this island, it is most likely in one of those two places. Especially the Jade Pool—it’s often linked to divine medicines of longevity.”
He paused, then gestured to another part of the mural.
It depicted a vast, shadowy beast bound in chains and pillars of light deep within an abyss. Around it stood humanoid figures wielding sacred artifacts, maintaining the seal.
Near the beast’s image were the characters: ‘Demon Dragon’ or ‘Void Dragon.’
“But the deeper secret of this place,” Dustin said gravely, “seems to be a seal. This so-called ‘Demon Dragon’… it may be the true entity suppressed beneath Penglai Island.”
His tone grew heavy. “The monstrous creature we fought earlier—its undying nature may well stem from the leaking power of this very sealed being.”
At his words, the spark of hope in everyone’s eyes dimmed once again.
The immortal elixir might indeed be near—but behind it lay forces capable of ending worlds.
“Regardless, we have no way back now,” Margaret said firmly. “At least we have a direction. Better that than wandering blindly. Dustin, where do we go from here?”
Closing his eyes, Dustin spread his spiritual sense outward like rippling water.
Though some unseen force still distorted perception, it was far weaker than in the canyon or the fog before.
After a moment, he opened his eyes and pointed ahead. “That direction. The residual energy there is the most complex—both tranquil and ominous, sacred and deathly intertwined. It matches the qualities of the Hanging Garden or the Jade Pool.”
He lowered his hand, eyes narrowing. “And the traces on the ground show that… something—many things—once moved that way.”
The way he said things made everyone’s hearts tighten. Clearly, not all of them had been human.
The group pressed on, treading carefully through the colossal battlefield of the past. They passed hills of beast bones, crossed dried riverbeds stained a dull crimson as if by ancient blood, every step heavy with caution.
Suddenly, one of the guards walking at the flank stumbled with a startled cry.
Everyone turned.
Under the loosened soil lay a corpse—far fresher than the rest.
It wore the garb of a modern martial cultivator. The body was not yet fully decayed, but the death was gruesome—a gaping hole in the chest, as if pierced clean through by something sharp and swift. - Marinien
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