Gaze and you will become stronger: starting from Doupo

At this moment, every corner of the heavens and earth, as well as the ancient land of the foreign land that is perpetually shrouded in blood-red mist, fell into an extreme, suffocating silence, as if time itself had been paused, leaving only a deathly stillness that could devour all sound.

First, let's talk about the celestial palace high above the nine heavens, suspended atop the sea of ​​clouds, forged from the Nine Heavens Mystic Jade. In the past, it was always filled with celestial music, and fairies in flowing cloud-patterned gowns, jade cups in hand, would stroll among the jade towers and pavilions, occasionally pausing to lean on the railings, gazing down at the mortal realm below, their brows filled with a serene, otherworldly grace. But now, all the fairies froze—one fairy, who was bringing a jade cup to her lips, tilted the cup, and the clear celestial dew slid down the rim, dripping onto her white skirt, leaving a glistening mark. She, however, was oblivious, her usually smiling almond eyes widening, fixed on the distant abyss at the horizon, her pupils reflecting the eerie fluctuations emanating from that region, even forgetting to slow her breathing. Inside the celestial palace, several elderly celestial officials who governed the order of the Nine Heavens were originally sitting around a jade table engraved with the trajectory of stars, discussing the procedures for the "Gathering of Ten Thousand Immortals" to be held next month. The jade talismans in their hands were still suspended in mid-air, the shimmering runes on them gradually dimming due to their owners' distraction. One of the white-haired celestial officials even unconsciously clenched his fingers, pinching the hard jade talisman and creating several fine cracks, but he was completely unaware of it, only muttering to himself, "How could this be... that's An Lan..."

Looking across the Ten Realms of Mortals, in a vast rice paddy in Xihe Niuzhou, an old farmer with dark skin was bending over, planting rice seedlings. His cloudy eyes were filled with anticipation for a bountiful harvest. Just as he was about to insert the seedlings into the water, he suddenly froze. He straightened up and looked up at the sky in confusion. The once clear sky was now perfectly normal, but he could clearly feel that the vibrant life in the air seemed to have stopped. Even the croaking of frogs and chirping of insects in the fields had vanished without a trace, and the barking of dogs from the distant villages had stopped abruptly. He frowned and reached out to touch the scarecrow beside him, finding that the strips of cloth covering the scarecrow were still, without even a wisp of wind. "What's going on?" the old farmer muttered, a nameless panic rising in his heart. He subconsciously looked towards the direction of the Heavenly Abyss. Although he was separated by billions of miles and could not see anything, he could feel the oppressive force that transcended time and space, a force that made his soul tremble.

In a foreign land, on the black earth plains once stained with the blood of the ancient war, a "Bone-Eating Demon Lion," its size comparable to a mountain, lay on the ground, devouring a "Crimson Flame Bull" it had just captured. Blood dripped from its sharp fangs, forming a small, dark red puddle on the black earth. But in the instant that deathly silence descended, the Bone-Eating Demon Lion abruptly stopped. Its massive head rose, its golden beastly eyes filled with vigilance and fear. It released its prey, its limbs trembling slightly, its body instinctively curling up, emitting a low whimper towards the direction of the Heavenly Abyss—in the past, it was the overlord of this plain, and even low-level cultivators from this foreign land would avoid it. But now, it was like a cub encountering its natural enemy, lacking even the courage to resist. Not far away, several young cultivators from another realm were gathered together, wiping their magical artifacts and discussing how to achieve a better ranking in the next "Immortal Hunting Trial." One of the cultivators, whose face was scarred, was boasting about how he had killed a Golden Core cultivator from the Tenth Realm last time. But before he could finish speaking, everyone froze. The magical artifacts in their hands fell to the ground with a clatter, and they stared blankly at Tian Yuan. The smiles on their faces vanished instantly, replaced by an incredulous shock. One of the cultivators even became so tense that his spiritual energy began to become disordered, and a trace of black blood spilled from the corner of his mouth.

All living beings and cultivators, regardless of their cultivation level or race, were frozen in place, staring blankly in the direction of Tianyuan, as if immobilized, speechless. Those with lower cultivation levels, such as Foundation Establishment and Golden Core cultivators, trembled uncontrollably, their hands gripping their robes tightly, their teeth biting until their lips turned white. Although they had never truly witnessed An Lan's terror, they had grown up hearing his legends—legends said that the An Lan Immortal King had single-handedly flattened three immortal cities of the Ten Lands and slain several powerful figures from the Ten Lands. His name was a symbol of "invincibility" in the foreign realms, a symbol of faith in the hearts of all foreign cultivators. But now, through the fluctuations transmitted between heaven and earth, they sensed the wretched state of that "invincible Immortal King," causing their faith to crumble instantly, their minds going blank, even thinking becoming difficult.

Those mid-level cultivators who had reached the Nascent Soul or Deity Transformation stages reacted with even more complex emotions. They had once seen An Lan from afar at a grand ceremony in another realm. At that time, An Lan, clad in golden armor, stood atop a nine-story platform, surrounded by immortal celestial light. A single glance from him was enough to suffocate them, leaving them without the courage to even look him in the eye. But now, they could "see"—a scene transmitted through the fluctuations of the spiritual energy of heaven and earth—An Lan was being whipped by a five-colored figure in the Abyss, his body exploding and reforming again and again, his former majesty completely gone. A Deity Transformation cultivator from another realm, holding a folding fan, let it slip from his hand without noticing, muttering to himself, "Impossible... This is absolutely impossible... How could Immortal King An Lan..." His eyes were filled with confusion and fear, as if all his previous understanding had been completely overturned.

Even the supreme experts at the pinnacle of the cultivation world could not remain calm. Meng Tianzheng of the Ten Lands, a peak expert who had fought valiantly in the Ancient Immortal War and slain several supreme beings from other realms, stood atop his "Asking Heaven Pavilion," holding the "Immortal-Slaying Sword" that had been with him for tens of thousands of years. The runes on the sword flickered erratically due to his emotional fluctuations. Meng Tianzheng's hair was slightly disheveled, and his eyes, usually sharp as a hawk's, were now filled with a dazed look. He even subconsciously rubbed his eyes, wondering if he was hallucinating from recent overexertion in cultivation. He recalled the scene from the Ancient Immortal War—how arrogant An Lan was back then, wielding a golden ancient spear, standing beneath the walls of the Immortal Realm, his roar causing several supreme beings from the Ten Lands to retreat three steps. Meng Tianzheng, despite his best efforts, could only withstand a hundred moves from An Lan. But now, An Lan, whom he once feared, was being whipped like a helpless child by a small, five-colored figure, his body exploding and reassembling. This made his heart clench with pain, and the immortal power within him became disordered due to excessive shock.

On the other side, in another realm, Wang Changsheng, a supreme being renowned for his "immortality" and having lived for countless epochs, sat in his "Hall of Immortality," before whom lay a cup of "Enlightenment Tea," brewed only once every thousand years. The fragrant aroma wafted through the air, yet it failed to calm him. Wang Changsheng's fingers trembled slightly, his hand holding the teacup hovering in mid-air. Tea spilled from the rim, dripping onto his pristine white robe, leaving a brown stain. His mouth gaped open, unable to close, his eyes filled with astonishment—he had once debated the Dao with An Lan, and in that debate, An Lan's displayed strength had astonished him; he even felt that An Lan was only a step away from becoming a "Celestial Emperor." But now, he sensed An Lan's waning aura, felt An Lan's resentment and anger, forcing him to accept an unbelievable truth: An Lan had truly been driven to the brink of despair.

Within the Abyss of Heaven, the area perpetually churning with black, turbid waves and riddled with spatial rifts, now became the focus of everyone's attention. An Lan, the Immortal King of the Otherworld, clad in his golden armor stained with countless drops of immortal blood, now appeared somewhat disheveled—the armor was riddled with cracks, and golden blood seeped from them, dripping down the edges and into the black waters of the Abyss, creating ripples. A tiny, five-colored figure, no bigger than a palm, hovered above An Lan, surrounded by five colors of light: blue, red, yellow, white, and black. Each color represented an ultimate power—blue wood power contained inexhaustible vitality; red fire power carried the ferocity to incinerate everything; yellow earth power possessed the weight to suppress all things; white gold power gleamed with unparalleled sharpness; and black water power contained the chilling power to devour everything.

The five-colored figure moved slowly, yet with an irresistible rhythm. Each swing of its "whip," formed from five-colored light, struck An Lan precisely. When the first whip landed, An Lan tried to block with his golden spear, but the seemingly fragile five-colored whip pierced through the spear's defenses and struck his chest. With a muffled thud, An Lan's chest caved in, golden flesh and blood splattering everywhere. His body flew backward like a kite with a broken string, crashing into the abyss's rock wall. The wall collapsed instantly, countless fragments falling into the black water, creating huge waves. But before An Lan could regain his footing, his body exploded with a bang, transforming into countless golden specks that scattered throughout the abyss.

Just when everyone thought An Lan had perished, the golden specks of light began to rapidly converge, reforming into An Lan's likeness—however, the reformed An Lan's aura was noticeably weaker, and his face was paler. He stared menacingly at the five-colored figure, about to speak, when the figure's second whip lashed down. This time, An Lan didn't dodge, but instead channeled all his immortal power, conjuring a golden protective shield around his body. Yet, the five-colored whip effortlessly pierced the shield, striking An Lan's shoulder. With a "crack," An Lan's shoulder bone shattered, golden blood gushed out, and his body exploded again, reforming once more.

And so it went, endlessly—each time the five-colored figures whipped An Lan, his body would explode, then reform. With each reformation, his aura weakened, and his face paled. The black, turbid waves in the Heavenly Abyss churned continuously due to the shockwaves from An Lan's explosions, and the spatial rifts grew larger and larger because of this force. Some small meteorites were even sucked into the Heavenly Abyss, instantly torn to shreds by the spatial rifts.

For a moment, the only sounds in the entire desolate border region, besides the rhythmic, muffled "bang bang" explosions within the Heavenly Abyss, were An Lan's roars filled with resentment and anger. Those roars pierced through the barriers of the Heavenly Abyss, spreading throughout the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths and every corner of the alien realm, causing the souls of all who heard them to tremble.

"I, An Lan, am immortal! You cannot kill me!" An Lan's body reformed once more. He stood in the black waters of Tianyuan, his golden armor tattered, revealing his scarred golden skin beneath. He raised his head, his gaze fixed on Jiang Han, who hovered in the distance, his eyes filled with killing intent and resentment. Golden blood spilled from the corner of his mouth, dripping down his chin and into the black water, creating ripples. His voice was hoarse yet powerful, each word seemingly squeezed out from between his teeth, carrying a resolute determination to fight to the death.

As soon as he finished speaking, An Lan flipped his right hand, and a golden light flashed, revealing a palm-sized decree in his hand. The decree was made of an unknown animal hide, its surface covered with complex runes, between which flowed a faint golden light. It was clearly no ordinary object—this was An Lan's "natal decree," which he had spent tens of thousands of years refining, and he would only use it in life-or-death situations.

Without the slightest hesitation, An Lan suddenly opened her mouth and spat out a mouthful of golden primordial blood onto the decree. The moment the golden blood landed on the decree, the runes on it instantly lit up, and then a ball of blue flame blazed up from it. This blue flame was unlike any ordinary flame; it had no temperature, instead emanating a chilling aura that sent shivers down one's spine. As the flame burned, the surrounding space began to distort, and the black, turbid waves in the Abyss ceased their churning, as if frozen by the blue flame.

"Buzzing—"

As the blue flames burned, the space above the Heavenly Abyss suddenly began to fluctuate violently. Then, a pitch-black gaping hole appeared out of thin air. The gaping hole was approximately tens of feet wide, its edges crackling with purple lightning that tore through the surrounding space, radiating a terrifying pressure. All living beings stared intently at the gaping hole, their hearts pounding involuntarily—they could all sense an extremely powerful force hidden behind it, a force that even supreme-level experts feared.

Then, under everyone's watchful eyes, a pure black shield-shaped monument slowly emerged from the gap. The monument was approximately three zhang tall and one chi thick, its entire surface as black as ink. (End of Chapter)