I've already become an immortal lord, and only now is the spiritual energy reviving?

"Matsu—!"

The elder's chanting, with its drawn-out ending, echoed endlessly through the Qinglu Valley.

In front of Guanhua Hall.

The two Foundation Establishment cultivators, Xing Shu and Wan Zhong, had already left their seats and were standing solemnly, their faces taut, their nonchalant expressions completely gone.

Especially Master Yuanlian of the Imperial Sword Sect.

His hands were tucked into his sleeves, his palms were slippery.

Beside him, the special envoys from the Xiao and He families were trembling with fear.

Above the sky, Chai Wu landed at the chief priest's seat.

Behind him, the cloud beast wailed, its collarbone pierced by several thick spirit locks, just like the sacrificial animal in the ancient ritual of "Tai Lao," prostrate and awaiting slaughter.

"With sacrificial animals prepared and jade and silk presented, we inform Heaven and comfort Earth!"

A melodious yet desolate bugle call sounded, a mournful cry that stirred the winds and clouds.

Inside the large cauldron, the incense burned brightly, and the smoke column solidified, shooting straight into the sky.

At the foot of the mountain lie the towns of Jiping and Anle.

The peddlers and laborers who usually argued fiercely over a few coins stopped what they were doing.

The streets were deserted, with crowds gathered in the town center square or in their own courtyards.

It has nothing to do with power or oppression.

Rather, it is an instinctive reverence for the protector that originates from the depths of one's blood.

The dark mass of people, like wheat fields swaying in the wind, knelt down in unison.

Countless heads pressed against the cold ground, prayers merging into a sea, a deafening roar.

"May the immortals protect us, and may next year bring favorable weather and abundant harvests..."

"May the Guanhua Gate remain evergreen for ten thousand years, and may it protect my family and keep us safe and sound..."

The desires of mortals are so simple they are laughable, yet they are also the most resilient ties to the mortal world.

Midway up Qinglu Mountain.

Hundreds of disciples, dressed in flowing blue robes, stood in positions according to the Nine Palaces and Eight Trigrams.

The deacon waved a flag embroidered with the sun, moon, and stars, while the elders held a tray filled with five-colored spiritual soil.

They did not kowtow, but held the Daoist salute, facing the main peak, performing the grand ceremony of a Daoist practitioner worshipping the mountain and inquiring about the Dao.

"bye--!"

The shouts of a thousand people, a roaring sound, drowned out the dying cries of the cloud beast.

The ceremony was completed in an instant.

"What...what is that?!"

Master Yuanlian cried out in surprise, completely disregarding the dignity of a Foundation Establishment True Person.

In his eyes.

Or rather, in the perspective of all those who cultivate themselves.

The once empty mountain town was suddenly filled with countless points of light.

Gold is like sand, red is like fire.

That is the fire in the hearts of all people, the power of ordinary people's wishes!

These ethereal auras, so elusive that even Foundation Establishment cultivators struggle to detect them, seemed to be summoned by some unknown force.

Threads and strands converge to form streams, eventually becoming rivers.

A mighty, golden-red tide surged toward the main peak of Qinglu Mountain!

"How is that possible?!"

"This place is not the Central Continent Divine Kingdom controlled by incense and gods, and the Guanhua Sect practices orthodox Taoist methods. How could they possibly possess the art of manipulating willpower?!"

Yuan Lian was scared.

As a lackey of the Wen family, he knew more than others.

This kind of strange phenomenon is something that a few greenhorns who have just established their foundations could not possibly have caused.

There's something terrifying in the mountains!

Before everyone could recover from their shock, the golden-red clouds had completely enveloped the main peak.

Boom!

The heavens trembled, and the celestial phenomena changed.

The azure sky turned crimson in an instant, as if a raging fire were burning.

Where crimson clouds swirled, the phantom of a great sun hung high, and within the sun, a chariot could be seen emerging, with a three-legged golden crow flapping its wings and crying out, scattering countless golden flames.

The drum beats.

The bluestone square has been transformed into a thunderous marsh.

Silvery-white thunderous liquid surged, and silver-armored celestial soldiers appeared and disappeared, arrayed in preparation.

Deep in the swamp, a purple lightning dragon raised its head and roared angrily, echoing the golden crow in the sky.

Up and down, in heaven and on earth.

The core of the anomaly.

A magnificent, breathtaking crimson figure rose from the mountaintop.

Bare-chested with a bushy beard and bulging muscles, he exuded the aura of a wild, untamed craftsman.

He did not reveal his true appearance, but with his aura that was enough to open up the world, he made all the cultivators bow their heads.

He held a giant hammer tightly in his hand.

No decorative patterns.

Only with strength.

Ultimate, pure, and domineering power.

Yuan Lian, an expert in weapon crafting, has lost control of his own "Furnace Foundation".

It's like seeing an earthenware jar from a folk kiln, or an imperial Jun porcelain ware from a state-run kiln.

The red giant moved.

He raised his giant hammer high, aiming at the point between the golden crow in the sky and the thunder dragon in the swamp!

Slam it down hard!

"clang!"

Everyone felt a sense of relief.

When they looked again, the world had changed drastically.

The golden crow in the sky has full plumage, lively eyes, and is full of vitality.

The Thunder Dragon shed its old skin, its new scales shimmering, and it seemed about to transform into a dragon and ascend to heaven.

"It's...it's done?"

Xing Shu's lips were dry, and he murmured to himself.

Then.

The crimson giant shadow dissipated, the thunderous swamp vanished, and the blazing sun returned to its place.

The lingering golden-red energy has not yet returned to the world.

An oppressive force originating from one's social status descended upon me.

Yuan Lian and the others felt a tightness in their chests and shortness of breath, and their protective spiritual light was forced back into their bodies, as if they were being rejected and abandoned by this world.

On the altar of the Lord.

Chai Wu, covered in blood, looked up at the radiant light, his eyes showing no fear whatsoever.

Only intense heat remained.

The light clusters wriggle and stretch.

A golden list with nebula-like patterns around its edges solidified.

On the list, two powerful, flamboyant gold-plated characters stand out prominently, seemingly suppressing all opposition.

[Guanhua]

The characters were completed, the golden list solidified, and transformed into a huge plaque made of sandalwood with gold trim.

Carrying an unparalleled aura, it slowly drifted down and hung above the lintel of the main hall.

Beside the two characters, there are two lines of smaller, vertically written characters with strong, bold strokes:

Heaven and earth form the furnace, mountains and rivers serve as the fuel.

The plaque was placed in place.

The oppressive aura that filled the sky vanished abruptly.

Yuan Lian swayed as he looked at the new plaque. The moment his gaze fell upon it, his soul felt a sharp pain.

Xing Shu and Wan Chong, who were equally flustered, exchanged glances.

Horrified, frightened, and enlightened.

This is not some kind of trickery or deception!

This mountain is imbued with spirits!

In Qinglu Mountain, there truly is a great and extraordinary deity enshrined!

......

Thousands of miles away.

The forbidden area of ​​the Imperial Sword Sect is shrouded in perpetual mist.

The Undying Sword Tomb

Countless broken swords were stuck among the black stones, a scene of deathly desolation.

In the center, an unidentified black sphere cracked open.

A withered finger, covered with twisted bluish-purple runes, emerged from it.

It pointed rigidly eastward, towards Qinglu Mountain.

The black mass churned violently.

A repeated voice echoed within the empty, desolate sword tomb.

It sounded like two people arguing, or like one person talking nonsense.

One voice was hoarse and sinister, filled with pure bestiality and malice that wanted to tear everything apart and devour it.

The other voice, however, was aged and gentle, conveying a suppressed pain and a trace of divine remnant.

"Wow!! The taste... familiar... delicious... good!!"

"Shut up! That's... no, impossible... He's long gone... why would you have His aura here...?"

"The pivot...?"

"The pivot?!"

The black mist raged wildly, causing the entire Imperial Sword Mountain Gate to tremble.

......

Blackwater City, the Wang family's old residence.

In the secret chamber, Xuanji Shangren, who was hesitating whether to swallow the Blood Pill, suddenly trembled and the pill rolled into the dust.

And on the He family's high-rise building.

He Fengchao, the old man from the dried-up river who was leaning on a cane, suddenly had a sharp glint in his cloudy old eyes.

"The secrets of heaven were in disarray... then cleared up again."

He gazed northward and chuckled softly:

"It seems that Lang Che and Zhu Xuan, these two juniors, made a good bet."

"It's time for this old man to go to Huayaotang and ask Steward Yang for a few more cups of tea."

The other end of the street.

In the teahouse.

Lang Che scattered the melon seeds he had just picked up on the ground, and stared wide-eyed at the faint, lingering red light in the north.

"Old bamboo pole..."

"Isn't the place that young Xu from the Xu family sought refuge with a bit too aggressively?"

Master Zhuxuan frowned, his fingers flying across the keyboard in calculations, before finally shrugging helplessly:

"A blank page."

"It doesn't count, and it's unbearable to look at."

"The water in Qinglu Mountain is much deeper than we imagined."