Chapter 237: The Plot Revealed

The skull voiced Ji Jue’s thoughts without ‌warning[1], leaving them dumbstruck. The words hit like a thunderclap, catching both of them completely off guard.

As Master Jian Yuan’s gaze turned ominous, an awkward silence descended.

Ji Jue’s smile twitched. “That was an accident, Master Craftsman. Nothing but an accident.”

The skull translated, “Well, there you have it. Now everyone’s uncomfortable. Happy now?”

“Heh.” Jian Yuan merely smiled. The skull laughed as well, though the meaning behind its laughter seemed rather different. “At times, this could prove quite useful. Very good. You’ve already gotten the hang of exploiting a craftsman’s curiosity.”

Ji Jue sighed. At last, he stopped trying to hide his true intentions. “There is one other thing I’ve been rather curious about. Master Craftsman, you went through all this trouble and brought such a large force to Spring City. You joined up with that group, then somehow found the time to torment an insignificant pawn like me for so long. What exactly are you trying to accomplish?”

“If that was all I wanted, why would I go through so much trouble?” Jian Yuan laughed disdainfully and raised the skull in his hand. “Everything I’ve done has merely been another step toward exhausting every possibility within the Ember and Putrefaction Paths. What’s so remarkable about that?”

The skull remained silent. The spirit circuits within it showed no signs of reacting. Jian Yuan had neither guarded his thoughts nor attempted to conceal them. He hadn’t even considered lying or putting on an act.

Ji Jue fell silent as well. After a long while, he let out a soundless sigh. “Why go this far?”

Jian Yuan’s lips curled into a mocking grin. “Why shouldn’t I? Whether one belongs to the Association or the Depths, whether one follows Ember or Putrefaction, it makes no difference. From the ancient thieves who stole fire, to alchemists, to the craftsmen of today, only the name has changed. Do you truly think there is any difference between them?

“No. Look through the ranks of the Supreme Benevolences and the Foolish Abominations. Every person who’s ever accomplished anything was the same. Without exception, they were madmen, fools, and walking disasters who placed their ambitions, delusions, and dreams above reality. The world was created by people like that, Ji Jue.

“One day, should you be fortunate enough to reach such heights, you may prove even more deranged than they were. But if you cannot learn to accept it, cannot bear it, and cannot endure it, then abandon your fantasies now while you still can and return to being an ordinary man. At least then, you might still say you lived a ‘happy’ life,” Jian Yuan said with absolute certainty.

Ji Jue didn’t answer.

Jian Yuan turned his head slightly, as though listening to something. After a while, he scoffed and said to whoever was on the other end, “Then bear the consequences yourself.”

The connection ended. Jian Yuan looked up, his gaze piercing through the workshop as he looked into the distance.

“It’s almost time.” He tossed the skull back into Ji Jue’s arms and flicked his fingers. “I might as well let you see what the so-called Supreme Benevolences and Foolish Abominations have turned this world into.”

The invisible barrier vanished as an unprecedented series of thunderous booms erupted in the distance. The vibrations reached them, causing the entire workshop to tremble faintly.

Dust drifted down, settling on Ji Jue’s mottled hair. He looked up, watching as an enormous floor-to-ceiling window slowly emerged from the wall. Beyond it, the sky was crisscrossed by blazing light. Pale radiance collided with dark, iridescent light, producing countless ripples and shattered rays that rained down upon the earth.

The weightless motes of light descended like snow, disintegrating upon touching the ground. A moment later, vast waves ran rampant, disassembling everything in their path. There was no sound or violent disturbance—everything silently collapsed and disintegrated.

“Do you see it? That’s a Celestial Being’s temporal anchor. Tao Cheng has endured assimilation by Origin for so many years that most of his humanity has already faded, and he doesn’t have much time left. But before he fully returns to Origin, he can still drag a few others down with him. Once he makes up his mind, he can take Changsheng and those old dogs from Wulou Temple all by himself and beat them into the ground.”

Boundless, pure-white radiance filled nearly the entire sky, pinning countless streams of dark, iridescent light at its center and pressing inward inch by inch.

The sky above Spring City was divided in two. Layers of color overlapped and pressed against one another in a chaotic pattern that was dizzying to behold and nearly impossible to make sense of. All Ji Jue could sense were the shockwaves produced by the collision between the Laws of Origin and the aura of Great Abominations. Even those mere aftershocks were enough to make the entirety of Spring City quake.

Jian Yuan stood before the newly opened window with his hands tucked into his sleeves, watching from the sidelines. From time to time, he raised a hand and pointed something out.

“That surging expanse of white mist to the north should be the Lou family’s domain, Five Towers and Twelve Cities. It was founded upon Ascension and governs the blessings of Mirror and Entropy. Judging by its structure, it would rank among the finest domains ever created by the Lou family’s Chosen Ones. I suppose it belongs to the woman heading the family.

“Mm. Here she comes. She’s probably after you and me. Those stubborn fools of the Ascension Path always insist on repaying every favor and settling every grudge. Unfortunately, she’s too far away.”

Jian Yuan sighed dismissively and paid her no further attention. His gaze shifted toward the strange clouds in the west.

“The Yu family’s Frost’s Descent matrix does have a certain cold, murderous air to it. Unfortunately, each generation has been worse than the last. It has the form, but nothing more. Hmm. What’s happening farther to the left is somewhat more interesting. The Tong family’s domain, Book of Ages Past, reduces all material things to black and white, then allows them to be rewritten, altered, and guided at will. Whoever is using it has clearly inherited the real legacy.

“What was his name again? Tong Ting? He borrows his enemies’ strength and turns it against them while never showing himself. He remains safely seated in the judge’s seat. Just like his father.”

Ji Jue followed where Jian Yuan was pointing. The area had been drained of all color, leaving only black and white, yet nothing dramatic seemed to be happening there. Everything appeared perfectly calm, almost like an unremarkable backdrop.

But beneath that stillness, the domain was eroding its surroundings and expanding. It allowed the aberrants and beasts of doom that entered to rampage and destroy at will, but the farther they ventured and the more damage they caused, the stranger their colors and forms became. Eventually, they no longer had the strength to struggle. They were absorbed into the ink-black domain, becoming part of its vast, sweeping painting.

Even more striking were the clusters of blood-red flames. They streaked across the battlefield like falling stars, charging unhindered in every direction and smashing through everything in their path.

“The Northern Federation military’s dogs may look impressive, but they’re nothing more than mass-produced goods. They’re adequate for putting on a show, but when it truly matters, they’re hardly worth mentioning.”

Jian Yuan couldn’t even be bothered to spare them a glance. Instead, his gaze shifted farther into the distance.

Along one of Spring City’s main roads stretched a winding trail of blood. There, a lone figure strolled calmly through the encirclement of countless corrupted beings. It was impossible to tell whether the person was male or female, for they seemed wrapped in layers of phantoms that blurred their appearance.

Corpses littered the ground wherever they passed. From time to time, the figure bent down and picked up a weapon from the dead, then wielded it with effortless ease to wreak further destruction. Saber, spear, sword, halberd—it made no difference. They used their ability to suppress the resistance of every alchemical creation they touched, seizing control of them through sheer brute force.

But the rate at which they wore those alchemical creations down...

As a craftsman, Ji Jue’s eyelids twitched at the sight.

“Another one hiding her true capabilities,” Jian Yuan said, shaking his head.

“Who is that?” Ji Jue asked curiously.

“Lü Yingyue, the director of Cliff City’s Security Bureau.” Jian Yuan looked toward the end of the street, where several monks stood like giants, their bodies seemingly forged from iron and steel. “Over there are the bald donkeys[2] from Wulou Temple. They probably won’t last much longer.”

It was unclear which side he was referring to. Still, Ji Jue couldn’t shake the feeling that those monks were in grave danger. Every one of them looked as though death had already marked their faces.

Layers of illusory light surged elsewhere. Many images filled the air, rising and shifting until they became a tide that seeped into reality and blurred the boundary between illusion and truth. Incomplete figures crawled from the shadows behind a slender young woman; there seemed to be no end to them.

“The lunatics from the Celestial Heart Society are finally getting serious this time,” Jian Yuan said indifferently. “That’s their domain, Sovereign Transformation.”

“What about the Dragonrite Society?” Ji Jue asked.

Jian Yuan didn’t seem concerned. “Who knows? People who constantly play both sides are probably calculating how best to sell themselves to the highest bidder right now. They can’t be relied upon.”

“What about you?”

So their allies charged at the front while their own side stood still and did nothing?

“It isn’t time yet, but it will be soon.” Jian Yuan continued watching from the sidelines, silently observing the earth-shaking spectacle beyond the window.

After an exceedingly long period of testing each other, the Security Bureau finally launched its offensive. Under Mr. Tao’s suppression, the corruption that the Heretic Cult had spent years spreading throughout the city erupted, but not a single trace of it could break through his hold. The auras of the Upper Abominations rose like pillars supporting the entire city. Now, however, the pillars were trembling and cracking.

Mr. Tao alone had pitted himself against so many Upper Abominations, yet he still had enough strength left to launch a fierce assault against Lu Changsheng. In fact, he appeared almost at ease, as though he had yet to reveal the full extent of his power.

His vast and overwhelming presence filled the city like a blazing sun, burning away the darkness shrouding Spring City while bearing the full weight of the Heretic Cult’s assault. The fierce light and boundless white radiance shifting across the sky were enough to make Ji Jue’s soul tremble.

“Is this what it means to be a Celestial Being?” he murmured.

“Not quite,” Jian Yuan replied with a shake of his head. “For him to have retained his humanity after being assimilated by a Supreme Benevolence to this extent is truly remarkable. What you’re seeing is him turning that assimilation against itself and wielding power borrowed from Origin’s divine essence. He serves as the node, using that power like a lever to move a force several times greater than himself. In truth, he doesn’t need to do all that much.”

“And the price?”

“Everything you see before you is the price he’s paying.”

Jian Yuan raised a finger toward the distant sky, seemingly vanishing into the heavens. When he drew it back, an inextinguishable flame was burning on the fingertip, hissing softly. He smothered the flame, but it swiftly rekindled and stubbornly continued to spread.

At last, Jian Yuan waved his hand and severed the finger. Before it could hit the floor, it crumbled into dust.

“Humanity is like the flame of a lamp. Even someone as powerful as a Celestial Being can only burn so brightly for so long,” Jian Yuan said, lowering his gaze. “He has already chosen a path that ends in death. He no longer cares about the consequences, and he will not stop.”

Jian Yuan stared blankly at the radiance filling the sky and shook his head with regret. “What a pity.”

Ji Jue sneered, not trying to hide his feelings any longer. “Why pretend to care, Master Craftsman? Isn’t all of this your doing?”

“Isn’t that precisely what makes him all the more admirable, and his fate all the more tragic?” Jian Yuan asked expressionlessly. “An enemy worthy of such respect should be fought with every means available, regardless of the cost or consequences.”

The strange iridescent light in the sky, which had been steadily crushed and forced inward by the searing white radiance, convulsed and ceased retreating. From the boundless darkness, a savage force surged into the heavens. It devoured every trace of aberrant aura within Spring City, swelling rapidly before crashing head-on into the Laws of Origin.

The moment when Mr. Tao’s power was at its height, when he stood closer to Origin than ever before, Lu Changsheng recklessly issued his challenge. It was rash beyond reason and utterly unwise. Not everything in this world could be weighed in terms of gain and loss.

Lu Changsheng threw back his head and laughed. His hoarse, piercing voice resounded across heaven and earth, echoing without end.

“I’ve waited so long for this! Today, I finally have the honor of fighting you, Mr. Tao!”

With a worthy opponent like Tao Cheng standing before him, how could he avoid the battle, hide away, and drag things out? What would that make him but a coward?

Mr. Tao said nothing. His radiance blazed ever brighter. The stars trembled, and the heavens shook. The iridescent light shattered, only to rush once more in a futile assault. Many fragments of light scattered toward the earth, bursting into patches of bewitching brilliance.

As the tremendous struggle raged across the sky, the fighting on the ground gradually reached a fever pitch. It was all happening too quickly, and there was far too much to take in. Ji Jue could barely follow any of it. The only moments he could make out were the bursts of crimson that erupted whenever a head was severed or a person was torn apart. The blood stained the shattered roads and ruins like indelible dye, impossible to overlook.

Everywhere he looked, all he saw was red. Had he not been captured, would he have been down there among the victims now? What had become of Tong Shan and the others?

Ji Jue tried to gather his thoughts, but his mind was a tangled mess, and nothing came out of it.

Thick smoke billowed as flames spread. After all this time, Spring City seemed to have been set ablaze once more, like a scene torn from a nightmare. Death spread through the city like a flood, while the sounds of destruction echoed without end. Countless streaks of crimson spread and overlapped, forming four fissures that stretched straight toward the heart of the city. They seemed ready to tear apart the corruption-shrouded city until nothing remained whole.

Throughout it all, Jian Yuan stood motionless, watching with cold indifference. He observed as the Security Bureau charged forward unhindered, crushing every obstacle and destroying every arrangement in its path. At last, he seemed to hear something from a distance.

“Very well. The timing isn’t quite perfect yet, but it will do. We can begin.”

Cracks appeared throughout the vast workshop.

Everything before Ji Jue’s eyes changed in dizzying succession. The hall contracted, the corridors expanded, and the building swelled. Within the workshop that existed somewhere between reality and nothingness, rows of preheated spirit matter furnaces roared to life, shaking frantically as torrents of spirit matter surged through the entire structure.

Alarms blared. An invisible force engulfed the area, pinning everyone in place and preventing anyone from leaving their station.

It was as though an enormous machine had started up. Every component began operating in perfect order as the vaulted ceiling split open and millions of spirit circuits unfurled, blossoming like a lotus.

The entire workshop transformed into a colossal pillar, rising section by section and casting a vast black shadow across the earth. At the workshop’s highest level, beside Jian Yuan, Ji Jue once again saw the boundary membrane riddled with countless holes and the ruins sealed within the rift realm.

At the heart of those ruins lay the wreckage of steel, bound by countless pitch-black chains. An engine, blackened by the erosion of corruption, throbbed and churned like a beating heart, sending violent waves outward. It was calling, wailing, waiting for him.

Ji Jue nearly forgot to breathe.

1. 零帧起手 “zero-frame startup” is an internet slang term that originated from fighting games. It originally referred to a move that comes out instantly, with no startup animation or delay, leaving the opponent no chance to react or defend. In everyday online usage, it describes someone speaking or acting without any buildup or preamble, so fast and decisive that it catches everyone completely off guard. ☜

2. “秃驴” is pronounced tū lǘ. Literally meaning “bald donkey,” it is a derogatory term used to insult Buddhist monks. More information in Translator’s Thoughts. ☜