Under One Person: I Opened the Age of Mythology

Chapter 570

"Only this method..." Sun Wukong's eyes burned with a desperate, all-or-nothing golden flame. His voice was deep, yet contained a boundless power capable of stabilizing the world. "Use the staff as nails! Nail this hellish abyss to death!"

Venus, with his hair and beard standing on end, unleashed an unprecedented aura of power from his aged body: "Your Majesty, I understand! Please, Your Majesty, buy me just three more breaths!"

He no longer waited for orders, and the "Heavenly River Water Token" that he had been holding tightly in his hand was instantly activated!
"The Milky Way, with its nine bends, heed my command! Draw upon the purest source of water and infuse it into the ancestral veins of Kunlun—at all costs, stabilize the Earth's core!!!"

Rumbling--

Above the endless starry sky, the Milky Way stretching for billions of miles is like a giant dragon awakened from its slumber.

The most refined of these, a pale blue primordial water containing the pure and spiritual energy of the celestial constellations, poured down like the Milky Way from the heavens, ignoring the obstruction of the void, forcefully piercing through the Kunlun Mountains, and precisely channeling into those core Kunlun vein nodes that were already cracked and on the verge of collapse.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

Like a powerful surge of blood being poured into the heart of a dying man, the violently collapsing Kunlun Ruins groaned in pain as it was infused with the boundless clear stream, yet it was forcibly stabilized for a moment, as if a giant about to fall had been held up for a brief moment.

In those three breaths of support, Sun Wukong won a unique and irreplaceable opportunity.

Above Kunlun, the Nine Nether Abyss.

Sun Wukong's figure stood proudly.

The abyss beneath their feet was like the gaping maw of hell, the ruins of the Chaos Furnace emitting an ominous hum, with turbulent currents surging forth.

Without hesitation, without fear.

He gripped the golden cudgel tightly with both hands and slowly raised it above his head! His undying fighting spirit, boundless magical power, and grand ambition to protect the Three Realms all ignited within him!
An unprecedented, powerful will, transcending the true meaning of "breaking" and incorporating the protective forces of "stabilizing," "suppressing," "consolidating," and "defending," condensed on the Golden Cudgel. The cudgel radiated an unprecedented chaotic light, yet it also contained the great power of creation and ending.

"Establish the foundation of heaven and earth!!!"

With a divine roar that shook the heavens and earth and traversed the past and future, Sun Wukong poured all his energy, spirit, and will—enough to shake the heavens and earth, along with the foundation of this corner of the Three Realms that was temporarily stabilized by the clear flow of the Milky Way—into this one strike!
The golden cudgel flew out of his hand!

It rapidly extended and transformed in the void! It was no longer a giant bronze pillar, but transformed into a divine pillar for the creation of heaven and earth, with countless mountains, rivers, stars, seas, and prayer patterns of our ancestors engraved on its surface!
The divine pillar, carrying the immortal will to shatter chaos and suppress eternity, disregarded the barriers of time and space and, with unparalleled precision and unstoppable force, pierced fiercely into the core gap that had burst open in the Chaos Furnace of the Nine Nether Abyss!

boom------! ! !
An indescribable explosion of destruction and creation occurred simultaneously!

The entire Kunlun Mountains subsided violently by hundreds of feet!
Amidst a deafening roar, the Nine Nether Abyss collapsed! But the surging torrent of chaos did not erupt and wreak havoc!
Because that world-stabilizing pillar was deeply and unshakably driven into the core of the Kunlun Ruins collapse!

It firmly sealed the terrifying remains of the Chaos Furnace and the raging flow of chaotic energy deep within the Kunlun Mountains, thousands of feet below the surface!

On the divine pillar, layers of profound sealing runes lit up, like a spine connecting heaven and earth, forcibly stabilizing this world on the verge of destruction!

A raging energy storm swept across the land, turning countless survivors of the Dark Star into dust in the cataclysmic upheaval.

At the eye of the storm, smoke and dust filled the air.

Sun Wukong's figure swayed precariously, his face as pale as paper; this blow had almost drained him of his strength.

But where the divine stake was driven in, the abyss of destruction had fallen silent. Only the colossal pillar that bore the hopes of the three realms stood firmly, radiating an aura of ancient solemnity.

The crisis was temporarily averted, but at a great cost. The Kunlun geological structure suffered severe damage, the source of the Heavenly River was severely damaged, Nezha was on the verge of collapse, Yang Jian was seriously injured and unconscious in the ruins, and the scattered fragments of the Chaos Pearl... remained like dormant volcanoes. However, the spark of hope stubbornly ignited on that Golden Cudgel that stabilized the world.

At the edge of the battlefield, the boy who had been severed from his link and thrown away by Sun Wukong struggled to open his eyes amidst the dust. The remaining purple light in his eyes intertwined with clarity as he looked at the golden giant staff that resembled a pillar supporting the sky...

Has the nightmare of the Three Realms truly come to an end?

At the summit of Kunlun, the towering pillar hums day and night.

Every seven days, Sun Wukong would nourish the staff with his life essence, and the purplish-black patterns entwined on the staff would greedily suck his life force. No one else in the Three Realms could bear this burden.

Inside the Tushita Palace, Nezha's primordial spirit floated amidst chaotic resentment. On the verge of death, he glimpsed a glimpse of heavenly secrets—the chaotic resentment within his body resonated with countless fragments, and he resolved to transform into a living cage imprisoning chaos.

In the imperial court, Yang Jian's golden eyes swept over the assembled immortals: "To purify this world, one must enter the chaos."

Before the gods in the hall could recover from their shock, an urgent report from the South China Sea ripped through the silence: "The Ruins Furnace has appeared!"

Meanwhile, the Jade Emperor's remnant soul, roaring at the core of the furnace, was posing its final question to Sun Wukong.

The wind at the summit of Kunlun Mountain sounds like the hissing of ancient, cold iron grinding against each other.

Sun Wukong sat cross-legged before the towering, world-stabilizing pillar. The giant pillar, formed from his golden cudgel, stretched across the heavens and earth. The ancient and solemn mountains, rivers, sun, moon, and totems of worship of all races that were originally on the pillar were now surrounded by an ominous, eerie light.

It wasn't the golden radiance etched upon it, but a deeper, more corrosive dark purple, like the veins of a living thing, bulging, twisting, and struggling on the surface of the sacred pillar.

With each struggle, the pillar emitted a dull hum, causing the entire Kunlun Mountain to tremble slightly, and boulders tumbled down into the endless abyss at the bottom of the cliff.

The seven-day period has come again.

His face was sunken, and his once fiery eyes, which had smelted iron and ignited gold, were now covered with a layer of weariness that was difficult to dispel.

Only the corners of his tightly pursed lips retained a trace of unyielding defiance. He pointed his fingers like knives, and a dazzling golden light shone from the tips—it was the essence of his heart's blood, condensed from his very being, containing the purest and most powerful fighting force within this indestructible body.

The fingertip pressed heavily on the most intensely pulsating purplish-black vein at the base of the sacred stake.

"laugh--!"

Like a red-hot iron branding rotten flesh, a plume of white smoke, carrying the pungent smell of blood, rose up.

The sacred pillar emitted a piercing, almost beastly scream, which shook the nearby rocks and caused them to crack inch by inch!

The pillar trembled violently, and the purplish-black patterns there seemed to have encountered a natural enemy, twisting and entwining in pain. The color faded for a moment, but it was pushed up again by the surging and tumultuous darkness below, spreading out even more fiercely in a counterattack, greedily sucking and devouring the drop of golden essence blood containing supreme power.

Sun Wukong groaned, his body swayed, and the last trace of color drained from his already pale face.

His fingers, which were supporting his knees, turned white from the force he exerted.

Each watering felt like a piece of his very essence being torn away. The dam built by the clear waters of the Milky Way was weathering away inch by inch, and the roots of Kunlun, the colossal tree that held up the sky, were decaying, held together only by divine stakes. In this way, the weight of the entire Three Realms was slowly draining away his golden body's might.

The Qitian Palace was deathly silent; you could hear a pin drop. The image of the Thousand-Mile Eye, a divine power, hung in the center of the palace, and the tragic scene at the summit of Kunlun pierced the eyes of all the immortals and gods.

Venus's lips moved, and his attempt to dissuade him ultimately turned into a heavy sigh.

Li Jing clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

His heavenly soldiers were valiant, but in a battleground of that caliber, they would turn to ashes just by getting close.

Looking across the Three Realms, the only one capable of wielding that staff and nourishing the seal with its own essence and blood is the Spirit Stone Monkey, whose flesh and bones are imbued with the essence of chaos and capable of fighting against heaven and earth.

In the vast Heavenly Court, not a single person could be found who could shoulder such a heavy burden and reach the abyss!
Despair, like a cold tide, silently washed over the palace steps.

The warmth of the Tushita Palace was kept out by the layers of magical arrays.

The enormous central Bagua furnace no longer spews raging flames; its body is cool and smooth as jade, and its interior is filled with the pure, nine-turn energy that nourishes the soul.

Nezha lay quietly inside, his lotus-shaped body exquisitely translucent, yet covered with fine, cracked purplish-black lines, like thick black blood flowing beneath shattered ice.

Taiyi Zhenren sat upright before the furnace, his brows furrowed.

With a flick of the whisk, the ethereal vapors within the furnace transformed into countless fine, crystalline rays, gently yet firmly piercing the entangled, chaotic resentment, attempting to peel away and purify the strands of fierce and desperate emotions.

However, each time the purification was touched, Nezha's tightly closed eyelashes trembled violently, his forehead was covered in cold sweat, and his lotus body flickered between light and shadow, as if it would shatter into thousands of pieces at any moment.

Those chaotic resentments had long coexisted and grown with his own primordial spirit. Forcibly separating them would be like scraping bone with a dull knife, only tearing his soul apart as well.

"Alas..." Taiyi's long sigh echoed in the silent alchemy room, revealing a deep sense of powerlessness.

The purple aura of the Tushita Heaven can repair wounds on the golden body, but it cannot cleanse the chaotic poison that has festered deep within the soul.

A murky, viscous darkness.

This is the abyss from which Nezha's consciousness fell.

Suddenly, a tiny glimmer of light stubbornly flickered in the boundless darkness.

It was not starlight from outside, but rather originated from the depths of the chaotic currents, from the core of his own polluted and tainted soul.

In the darkness, a strange, faint pulse from all directions resonated with the same chaotic power originating from the Kunlun Nine Nether Furnace, which was wrapped around his primordial spirit, and trembled gently at the same frequency across the boundless void!

Chaos is not lifeless! It originates from a single source, like water veins connecting the earth! When gathered, it becomes a raging torrent, tearing the heavens and earth apart; when divided, it's like a dragon entering the sea, uncontrollable; however… if there is a sufficiently resilient “riverbed,” willing to sacrifice itself to forcibly guide its flow, perhaps…

A bolt of lightning illuminated the abyss of consciousness!
"To transform oneself into a channel... to draw chaotic resentment into the divine pillar... to share... to share his burden..."

Nezha's consciousness was torn between frantic ramblings and his final moments of clarity.

This was the only possibility he could find from his own painful struggle after days of deducing the sand table—since he and Laozi could not purify these entangled resentments, they might as well guide them to a more powerful "container" that was fighting against the source of chaos: the Kunlun Divine Stake, which was formed from the Golden Cudgel and driven into the Nine Nether Abyss!

He forcibly reversed the remaining power within his body, ignoring Laozi's alarmed exhortations and attempts to dissuade him behind the alchemy furnace, as if tearing a painful chasm leading to an endless distance through his own meridians and soul.

The glazed tile roof of the Tushita Palace hummed under the impact of invisible energy.

Wisps and strands of visible purplish-black resentment emerged from Nezha's seven orifices and pores all over his body. They did not dissipate, but were drawn by some powerful spatial force, penetrating the barriers of the Tushita Palace and heading straight for the depths of the distant Kunlun Mountains.

Through the faint connection between Nezha and the divine stake, Nezha "saw" the ominous glow on the stake being "covered" or rather... "neutralized" by the continuous stream of resentment. The rate of erosion seemed to have slowed down for a moment.

This false "result" gave Nezha, who was on the verge of his limit, a renewed surge of energy, causing him to frantically activate the secret technique.

However, a fatal price soon followed!

On Nezha's fingertips, a strange color first appeared—neither gold nor stone, shimmering with a cold texture similar to the eerie light of the Kunlun Divine Pillar, and it quickly spread to his arm!

This is exactly the phenomenon that caused the fragments of the Chaos Pearl to erode those mortals and heavenly soldiers, leading to their mutation and crystallization!
The essence of chaotic resentment is pollution. Forcibly guiding it, especially introducing it into oneself as a "channel," is tantamount to playing with fire and destroying one's own foundation!
Even more terrifying is the erosion of divine consciousness.

The resentment of countless souls absorbed, crushed, and twisted by chaos transformed into sharp howls, vicious curses, and chaotic destructive desires, crashing against Nezha's mind like a raging torrent.

The mental constructs of the sand table reconstruction are eroded and blurred, replaced by a frenzied impulse to destroy everything.

Nezha's eyes were covered by deep purple blood vessels, and the corners of his mouth unconsciously stretched into a ferocious arc as he let out a roar that was difficult to understand.

"Oops!"

Laozi's expression changed drastically. He flicked his whisk and activated the most advanced defensive array in the Doushuai Palace! Countless phantom images of pill cauldrons appeared, and a thick light barrier instantly isolated the inside from the outside.

He must use the auspicious energy nurtured by the alchemy furnace and the power of the formation to suppress this out-of-control vortex of resentment and prevent the terrifying energy that might leak out when Nezha is on the verge of collapse from impacting the Three Realms!
This can only provide a slight delay.

Lao Jun's gaze pierced through the formation and landed on the boy, whose body was already half crystallized and whose aura was as wild as a beast. His heart ached terribly.

Without hesitation, he took out a jade talisman burning with a fiery flame, an alarm signal directly connected to the core of the Qitian Palace—sending a most urgent plea for help to the distant summit of Kunlun Mountain, to the figure who endured the excruciating pain of having his heart ripped out every seven days:

"Great Sage! Nezha is in grave danger! The Tushita Palace has been sealed! Return immediately!!!"

At the summit of Kunlun Mountain, the fierce wind is as sharp as a knife.

Sun Wukong was standing before that colossal pillar supporting the sky—the Kunlun Divine Pillar, which was formed from the Golden Cudgel.

The pillar remains magnificent, bearing the totem of the sparks of will of the ancient ancestors, yet it is also entangled with an inescapable dark purple light, a mark of the constant erosion by the power of chaos.

The seventh day arrived, and he suppressed the intense dizziness caused by blood loss and depletion of his primordial spirit. His clothes tore open without wind, revealing his strong but weary chest.

A drop of his heart's essence, condensed to the extreme and shimmering with golden-red light, was forced out, containing his most primal power at this moment.

(End of this chapter)