Primordial Era: Starting with slaughtering all the gods and Buddhas in the sky

Huang Chen walked in the direction the human elder pointed.

The western waterway glowed red in the firelight, half of the bank was covered with a thin layer of ice, while the other half was scorched by the heat and black water was flowing down. The small skeletal boat was wedged between two crooked wooden stakes. The boat was not large, but the belly was wide. The hull was pieced together from the ribs of some kind of sea creature, and the gaps were filled with foul-smelling ash. The mast had long been broken in half, leaving only a tattered sail that was billowing in the wind.

Huang Chen jumped onto the boat and first leaned down to look at the hold.

No leaks.

It can still walk.

His chest heaved violently, his throat was filled with the taste of blood, and the wound on his left shoulder, torn open by the cold wave, was still bleeding.

The power after the breakthrough was chaotically churning within his meridians, like a dark fire and a chilling aura clashing against each other, causing pain at the slightest touch. He frowned, took out two fasting pills from his pocket and tossed them into his mouth, then raised his hand and pressed against the gunwale, whispering, "Those who can still move, come over here, three."

'

The survivors on the shore who had just dragged the man out of the hold were stunned.

The elderly human reacted the fastest, immediately shouting at the top of his lungs, "Quick!"

Listen to Lord Huang! If you know how to row a boat, come quickly!

'

A tall, thin man, a middle-aged woman with two missing fingers, and a boy with his face covered in cigarette ash stumbled over.

Huang Chen glanced at them and said in a low voice, "I won't take this boat far away; I'll just take you to the reef on the north side."

There's an abandoned cave over there; let's hide there first. Once the fire is under control, we'll split up and go our separate ways.

'

The tall, thin man swallowed hard. "Sir, aren't you coming with us?"

Huang Chen carefully put away the slender bone tube and the two sheets of gray paper, then looked up at the dark sea fog to the north.

"Don't go far."

He only replied with three words.

The group dared not ask any more questions and hurriedly untied the mooring ropes.

As the small bone boat left the shore, there were still loud crashes of broken wood collapsing behind Hanpo Ferry.

The fire burned from the dock all the way up to the pier, casting flickering light on the sea. The wind was filled with the pungent smell of burnt wood, blood, and the sea, making one's throat dry and sore.

The boat cut through the floating ice with a soft cracking sound. Huang Chen sat at the bow, one hand on his knee and the other on the Asura Blood Blade, his eyes closed as he regulated his breathing, but his forehead remained tense.

Half an hour later, the small boat slid close to the reef wall and into a narrow crevice in the water.

Behind the crevice is a stone cave hollowed out by the sea breeze. The cave is not deep, but it is well hidden.

Icicles hung from the cave entrance, the air inside was damp, and the ground was covered with pebbles and old seaweed. Huang Chen went in first to look around and make sure no monsters were lurking there. He then placed two concealment talismans at the entrance to suppress his presence before allowing the survivors to help the wounded in one by one.

As soon as there were more people, the cave immediately became chaotic.

Coughs, sobs, and low groans mingled together.

The young man stood helplessly to the side, his face pale: "Lord Huang, outside... what if they come after us?"

Huang Chen sat down against the stone wall, tearing open the tattered armor on his shoulder to reveal the gaping wounds underneath.

Not tonight.

His voice was a little hoarse when he spoke.

"With the ferry crossing burned like that, the surviving demons will only care about themselves. Even if there are pursuers, they'll have to wait until dawn to check the boats and the bodies."

'

The elderly human squatted beside him, his hands trembling violently, but he still gritted his teeth and helped him brush away the shards of ice around the wound: "My lord, you saved my life. Give me your orders, and I will relay the message to the rest of the people."

'

Huang Chen glanced at him.

The old man's face was covered in cigarette ash and bloodstains, his eye sockets were dark, but he could still barely straighten his back.

"Rest for two hours," Huang Chen said. "Don't light a fire or make any noise before dawn."

Those who are able should take care of the injured. Once the wind shifts to the north, walk along the ravine towards the rocky path I carved out on my way here.

When you come to a fork in the road, look for three knife marks on the ground. Those are markers.

'

The old man nodded repeatedly: "I've got it, I've got it."

Huang Chen added, "Don't look back, and don't covet what Hanpo Ferry left behind."

'

The old man's lips moved, but in the end he only nodded emphatically.

After the cave quieted down, Huang Chen took out a high-grade Qi and Blood Pill and a Yuan-Replenishing Pill from his storage and swallowed one of each.

The medicinal power dissipated, first bringing heat, then striking the bones and muscles like a hammer. The dark gold witch runes that appeared after the breakthrough slowly rose to the surface of the skin, spreading from the chest all the way to the neck, and then disappearing into the shoulders and back.

The patterns were no longer as scattered as before; now they were faintly showing signs of convergence, like red-hot gold threads winding into flesh and blood, slowly suppressing the rampaging power within the body.

pain.

The pain was so intense that the veins on his forehead bulged.

Huang Chen closed his eyes, leaned against the cold stone wall, and guided his qi and blood through his limbs and bones little by little.

The battle at Hanpo Ferry was too brutal that night. Blackwater sorcerers, Tidebone priests, and demon soldiers on the ships, plus the forced breakthroughs—anyone else would have been paralyzed long ago. But not now.

The seven words on that communication scale were still stuck in his mind.

Elder Zhao is nearing the altar.

He exhaled a breath of stale air and reached out to touch the fragmented map of the Cold Nether Altar and the secret letter from the Xuan Tian Sect in his arms.

It's not over.

Several hours passed, and the wind outside the cave changed direction.

When Huang Chen opened his eyes again, the sky had turned from the deepest black to gray-white.

The people inside the cave were sprawled out on the ground, except for the elderly human who was still awake, leaning against the cave entrance and staring outside. Hearing the noise, he quickly turned around: "Sir, you're awake?"

'

Huang Chen's joints cracked as he stood up.

The wounds on my shoulder and back have healed by about 70-80%, and the swelling in my chest and abdomen has also subsided considerably.

Even if he hasn't recovered to his full potential, at least he can still take action.

"Wake them up."

"He said."

The old man quickly responded and began pushing people one by one.

Huang Chen walked outside the cave and glanced at the mountains to the north. The sea fog was gradually dissipating, and the undulating black rocks in the distance resembled the spine of a frozen giant beast.

Further west lies a hidden gully he scouted the night before, which bypasses the main road, leads deep into the rugged mountains, and eventually connects to the gully route he left behind on his way here.

Moments later, the survivors began to emerge.

Everyone's face showed signs of exhaustion from lack of sleep, but their eyes held a flicker of hope for survival.

Huang Chen explained the route again, speaking slowly and deliberately.

"Thirty li ahead, the ravine is narrow, only wide enough for two people to walk side by side. Further on, there will be a landslide; don't go up the slope, go around it from the foot."

If you see a broken bone stuck in the ground, turn left. There are empty animal dens there that I've cleaned up; you can take refuge there temporarily.

'

The tall, thin man hesitated for a moment: "Lord Huang, aren't you coming back with us?"

Huang Chen tightened his black wind cloak and raised his hand to press the black and yellow armor into his clothes.

"I'm going to the northern foot of Buzhou Mountain."

As soon as these words were spoken, everyone's faces turned pale.

The elderly human blurted out, "That place is incredibly eerie! Those who have been brought to Hanpo Ferry over the years tremble at the mere mention of the Northern Foothills, saying that it snows black all year round there, and they can hear weeping at night—"

Huang Chen interrupted him: "That's why we have to go."

'

The old man opened his mouth, but didn't try to persuade him further.

Huang Chen looked at them, his voice turning somber: "You survived because you were rescued."

Don't risk your life again. Let's go.

'

After a few breaths, the crowd responded in hushed tones, their eyes red.

The team began to evacuate along the ravine.

Huang Chen stood on high ground watching them disappear one by one into the crevices and among the rocks, until the last boy turned back to look at him, before being dragged away by the human elder by the shoulder. The wind swept through the ravine, whipping up fine snow and gravel that stung their faces.

He stood there for a moment, then turned and went to the other side.

This walk took a whole day.

From Hanpo Ferry to the northern foot of Buzhou Mountain, the sea breeze was gradually replaced by the mountain breeze, and the salty smell in the air faded, replaced by the smell of frozen earth and decaying ash. Huang Chen did not travel in a straight line, but followed a few blurry marks in the incomplete map and the secret letter, deliberately choosing to travel along mountain ridges, crevices, and abandoned animal trails.

When encountering a high cliff, one uses the Mountain and River Treading Boots to climb the stone; when encountering an exposed snow-capped mountain, one uses the Breath Concealing Technique to lower one's aura and move stealthily close to the ground.

The following evening, the sky was extremely low.

Dark, heavy clouds hung over the northern foothills of Buzhou Mountain, like a black cloak about to collapse. The snow here wasn't white, but rather a grayish-black, and it didn't melt after falling on the rocks, only making the ground dirtier and dirtier.

Huang Chen crouched behind a cracked black rock and slowly peeked out.

Ahead lay a vast basin.

As if it had been smashed down by something, the surrounding mountain walls sloped inward, and the center was sunken, filled with thick black snow and frozen sewage. In the very center of the basin stood a cold, dark altar.

That thing is even more sinister than the one depicted in the incomplete map.

The base was made of concentric circles of black stones, with congealed dark red blood seeping into the cracks between them.

Seven thick black chain pillars stood upright, each wrapped with demon bones, animal hides, and grayish-white soul ash. The chain links were interlocked, supporting a half-open, half-closed ring-shaped skeleton. A ball of grayish-blue cold flame hung in the center of the skeleton, leaping not high, but illuminating the surroundings in a gloomy light.

More than ten flagpoles were also planted around the altar.

The moment Huang Chen saw the flagpole clearly, his brows furrowed sharply.

That wasn't a wooden pole, nor an iron pole.

It's human bones.

The thick leg bones were pieced together segment by segment, with black nails driven between the joints. The flag was not made of cloth, but of a layer of translucent human skin, beneath which flowed extremely fine soul-binding patterns. The direction and twists of those patterns made Huang Chen's heart sink.

The soul-suppressing pattern on the demon-subduing golden bowl in the hands of the passing immortal in Chapter 1 is almost identical in origin.

The golden bowl is used to suppress the soul, while these bone flags are used to bind the soul.

Same source, used in reverse.

Huang Chen crouched even lower, his eyes turning cold.

The area around the altar was not empty.

Standing on the east side were six or seven figures wearing gray-blue leather cloaks, with fin patterns on their shoulders and backs, and carrying sea bone lanterns in their hands; they were clearly from the Beiming faction.

The leader was tall and slender, his face covered by a thin white bone mask, the edges of which were covered in frost. A few strands of dark blue silk hung from his sleeves, the color of seaweed that had rotted after being soaked for a long time. Huang Chen only glanced at him a few times before matching this person with the "real envoy from the Northern Sea" in the secret letter.

never seen it.

Its aura, however, was strikingly malevolent.

In the northwest corner stood three remnants of Taoist priests, their robes tattered and their chests adorned with broken insignia. The insignia, which should have been the cloud pattern of the Xuan Tian Sect's guardian lineage, was now half-worn away, leaving only broken clouds and half a tower's shadow.

The three were not wearing the Xuantian Sect's standard Daoist robes, and the flying swords on their backs were all different, but their eyes all carried the cold and hard look that was typical of sect cultivators.

Elder Yu Bu, the protector of the hall.

They weren't completely dead after all.

Further south, there was a team of more than ten people.

Those people were tall, The arms and necks that emerged were etched with rough water patterns, but the armor plates were pieced together haphazardly, clearly not a unified design. Some even had incomplete shamanic bone tablets hanging from their waists.

If they weren't currently carrying soul ashes and blood vats for the altar, Huang Chen would almost have mistaken them for warriors of the main branch of the Gonggong tribe.

But they are now traitors.

They were bribed.

Huang Chen stared at the old rank insignia on the back of one of the men and gently bit his lip.

The wind was strong in the basin, but the sound could still travel along the depression.

He lay prone on the high place, listening patiently.

"The third round of Soul Locking is missing three vats of ash." A remnant cultivator from the Xuantian Sect spoke, his voice dry and cold. "What happened over at Blackwater?"

'

A man from the Northern Sea bowed his head and replied, "There was a problem at Hanpo Ferry; the passenger ship didn't arrive on time."

"trouble?

The crippled cultivator raised his eyes, his gaze sharp as a knife, and said, "You Northern Seas can't even guard the ferry crossing?"

The man in the white-bone mask finally spoke, his tone flat, like water beneath ice: "If the Hutang lineage were truly capable, they wouldn't have needed to flee here with their old emblem."

The Blackwater witch trader is dead, and a batch of goods has run out. We'll replace them with the existing stock.

'

Among the group of traitors on the south side, someone muttered a curse.

Another traitor immediately shouted, "Shut up!"

'

Huang Chen's eyes flickered slightly.

These people are not of one mind.

The gray-blue flames in the center of the altar suddenly surged higher, and the seven black chains simultaneously emitted a soft clanging sound. It wasn't the clash of metal, but rather something wailing within the chain links.

Everyone around stopped what they were doing and looked at the altar.

The white-skinned masked man raised a slender bone ruler and shone it at the cold fire.

Several blurry lines suddenly emerged from the fire.

It's not mountain-shaped.

It is the network.

Like a giant blood vessel drawn from the ground, it twists and turns, intertwining with each other, with one section being particularly thick, which is being locked onto little by little by the gray-blue cold flames.

Huang Chen's pupils contracted slightly.

That wasn't the fuse for hitting the mountain.

That's pulse point search.

The true purpose of this Cold Nether Altar is not to directly confront Mount Buzhou, but to use the techniques of soul ash, blood guide, and meridian locking to find the true location of the main branch of the Gonggong tribe.

Once found, they would manipulate the situation, creating the illusion of the witch tribe going berserk and the main veins malfunctioning, muddying the waters and escalating the chaos.

No wonder the secret letter mentioned "key bloodline" and "fragment of the main vein diagram".

They are lighting a fire.

It could ignite a fire that would drag all sides into the mess.

Huang Chen slowly exhaled, pressing his five fingers into the frozen rock crevices, causing the veins on the back of his fingers to bulge out.

At this moment, a burly man with a fierce face among the rebel soldiers on the south side impatiently slammed the blood vat on the ground: "Damn it, how much longer do we have to feed him?"

You said it was just for show, to check the pulse, but how come you added three rounds of soul ash?!

The crippled cultivator from the Xuantian Sect looked over coldly: "Afraid?"

'

"I'm not afraid," the traitor gritted his teeth. "I just feel something is amiss."

You're using our department's old dominoes as bait, adding more and more, what if you really scare the main force out—"

"So what if they're scared out?" another elder, Yu Bu, sneered. "If we don't boil the water, how can there be any chaos later?"

'

Upon hearing this, Huang Chen suppressed his anger.

The more anxious you are, the more likely you are to rush in and get yourself killed.

He remained lying in place, continuing to watch the rhythm of the altar's activation.

The seven black chain pillars rotate the direction of the cold fire every incense stick's time; the soul-binding pattern on the human bone flagpole is brightest when the cold fire turns to the southwest corner; the outer rebel soldiers patrol in a seemingly chaotic manner, but in fact they are in groups of three, circling the outer ring of the flag formation.

The envoy from Beiming and the three remaining cultivators of the Xuantian Sect remained in the inner circle, refusing to move easily.

First, break the outer ring.

Then remove their eyes and ears.

They only touched the middle ones last.

Huang Chen squinted, memorizing the positions of the dozen or so rebel soldiers on the perimeter. He went through them one by one: who was close to the flagpole, who was responsible for carrying ashes, who had a bone whistle hanging from their waist, and who had unsteady steps.

Just then, a familiar, cold notification suddenly rang in his mind.

[Main Quest Part 3 Progress Update: Coordinates of the True Ignitioner Located (1/2)]

[Currently unsettled]

[Note: The altar has both "main position" and "shadow position" coordinates. Please continue to check the main body.]

Huang Chen lowered his eyebrows.

Shadow position?

He looked again at the envoy from the Northern Sea who was covered in a white bone mask.

The other party stood firmly and had a deep aura, but since the system gave this prompt, it meant that what was in front of them might not be the real body, or at least not entirely it.

He didn't rush to make a move.

The wind swept down from above the basin, whipping up gusts of black snow. The bone banners beside the altar swayed gently, their taut leather making a soft crackling sound, like someone grinding their teeth.

Huang Chen hid half an inch further behind the rock, slowly reaching for the communication jade slip and concealment talisman at his waist. Then, with a flick of his finger, he stopped at the hilt of the Asura Blood Blade.

The traitorous soldier with a fierce face below was cursing and walking outwards, dragging a cart full of soul ash alone, only twenty steps away from the nearest flagpole.

Huang Chen stared at his footsteps, his breathing so low it was almost inaudible.

The black snow is still falling.