Wutong forgot to scream and froze right where he stood, until he was released by Gu Huaixiu and saw with shock that the man’s face was deathly pale and his mouth was stained with fresh blood. It was the force from that impact just a moment ago! In that split second, Wutong felt as though his chest and back had been pierced clean through, and that immense force seemed to hollow out his entire heart. Though he felt no pain, the hollow sensation lingered persistently. Only upon seeing Gu Huaixiu’s appearance did he realize that the damage from this blow had once again been absorbed entirely by Gu Huaixiu. Was he utilizing Wutong’s body to exert the power of the Zhutian Jue? To breach that door, was he truly willing to resort to self-mutilation to this extent? Wutong was momentarily at a loss for whether to call him ruthless or foolish. He watched as Gu Huaixiu wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and said with a weak breath, ‘Let’s go inside.’ It was only after they stepped through the doors and the heavy gates clicked shut behind them that Green Python’s head poked out once more from the opposite side of the portal. The moment Green Python opened its mouth to speak, Gu Huaixiu uttered a curt ‘Shut up’ without turning his head, causing the snake to instantly and obediently seal its lips. Wutong had no time to spare for the green serpent, raising his head to scan his surroundings instead. The hall inside was semi-circular. Though smaller than the outer hall, its area was far from negligible. The ceiling was fully paved with stone carvings, featuring a coiled dragon’s head in the center from which nine broad, long wings extended outward in a radiant fan formation. This was precisely the Nine-Winged Winged Dragon representing the Tianchen Sect. Legend had it that the Nine-Winged Winged Dragon had once served as the mount of Patriarch Haochen, ascending alongside the Patriarch upon his apotheosis to become the enduring emblem of the Tianchen Sect. To the left, right, and front, dozens of upright, thick black stone walls formed the semi-circular perimeter, sealing the entire hall into an enclosed space. The stone walls were embedded with square apertures distributed irregularly across their surface. Each aperture featured a tiny flying eave, serving as a lit niche that illuminated large stretches of undulating, cyan flagstone flooring. Cast your gaze outward, and it looked precisely as though hundreds or thousands of windows had been carved into a massive black curtain. Some of these windows were entirely empty, while others contained objects. Aside from these, the great hall contained nothing else. Combined with the prevailing somber color palette, the space felt vast and solemn, naturally evoking a sense of solemnity. Wutong and Gu Huaixiu walked forward slowly until they came close enough to a niche set at eye level to discern that it contained a true cube measuring roughly an inch wide and tall. Pitch black in color, the cube radiated light from all four interior walls of the niche, yet the illumination failed to penetrate its surface, making its composition completely indiscernible. They peered into several other niches and discovered identical cubes resting within many of them, though their shades varied from deep to pale. Every single one of these cubes hovered quietly in the exact center of its niche, instilling an immediate sense of profound mystery. ‘What are all these?’ Wutong asked, though he hardly expected an answer. ‘These are the enshrined mortal remains of Tianchen Sect ancestors.’ The voice drifted from behind. Wutong turned his head to see Green Python poking its head out from the doorway once more. Meeting Gu Huaixiu’s chilling glare, it hurriedly offered a defense: ‘The little fellow asked, and I am merely clearing up his doubts.’ ‘Remains? You mean these cubes?’ Wutong asked in astonishment. ‘Indeed they are those very cubes. When those who enter pass away, their remains naturally condense into these blocks,’ Green Python replied nonchalantly. Had Green Python not explained, their exteriors offered no indication that they were human remains. Moreover, what did it mean by those who enter passing away? Did everyone who entered end up dying? A mixture of shock and suspicion churned within Wutong’s chest. Meanwhile, Gu Huaixiu’s fingers had already extended slowly toward the surface of the cube before them. For reasons unknown, a sharp sense of tension gripped Wutong, causing him to hold his breath instinctively. The instant his fingertip made contact, a beam of light shot out from the center of the cube. Reaching a foot away from their field of vision, the light struck an invisible barrier and flattened outward, ultimately forming a virtual, translucent paper-like manuscript screen upon which lines of text emerged sequentially. Reading through the entire passage revealed it to be nothing less than an epitaph. This cube of skeletal remains belonged to a certain past Sect Master of the Tianchen Sect, detailing their lifetime achievements and lineage. To Wutong’s utter perplexity, the epitaph referred to the deceased in the first person using humble phrasing, almost as if the spirit-bone’s owner had authored the text themselves. Finding this quite novel, Wutong did not wait for Gu Huaixiu to make the next move, instead reaching out to touch several more cubes in succession. Gu Huaixiu did not stop him, choosing instead to follow close behind as Wutong moved, reading the records appearing on the manuscript screens side by side with him whenever they surfaced. The figures and titles recorded on the screens were predominantly former Tianchen Sect leaders or venerated senior paragons, most of whom Wutong recognized to varying degrees. Although some lacked formal posthumous titles, the general impression conveyed was that the inscribed words had indeed been penned personally by the owners of the bones. Among them were plenty of renowned sages and worthies. Remembering how these predecessors had also once enjoyed immense renown during their eras, only to occupy nothing more than a tiny spot within these densely packed niches deep underground rather than returning to dust, Wutong felt a deep wave of melancholy. Yet why did the colors of these cubes vary in shade? Wutong attempted to correlate this with their eras, or the personalities and ages of the bone owners, but found no inevitable connection. When he questioned Gu Huaixiu, the man merely shook his head, prompting him to drop the inquiry. After inspecting a few more, Wutong lost interest and muttered, ‘This is nothing more than a tomb with a slightly novel design. What is it you are looking for, Gu Huaixiu?’ Gu Huaixiu offered no reply. Seeing that Wutong had stopped touching the cubes, he began tapping the remaining ones one by one, leaving not a single block unchecked. For cubes located further away or higher up, he substituted his touch with a flick of his finger, achieving the identical effect. Moreover, no matter how far away the cube happened to be, the projected beams of light unfailingly converged right before their eyes, manifesting the manuscript screens. Unwilling to move yet forced to trail along as Gu Huaixiu paced slowly through the hall, Wutong punctuated his steps with exaggerated, impatient sighs, though Gu Huaixiu turned a deaf ear to them all. Just as every single cube had been tapped without producing any anomalies, and Wutong was beginning to deem the entire exercise utterly tedious, he asked once more, ‘What on earth are you trying to do, Gu Huaixiu?’ At that exact moment, another manuscript screen unrolled before their eyes. Strangely, however, they waited for a long time without a single character appearing upon it. ‘Blank?’ Wutong wondered aloud, raising his head to trace the source of this blank screen back to a niche situated at the very highest point of the rightmost wall, easily overlooked if one did not inspect closely. ‘Whose skeletal remains are these? Why is nothing written on it?’ A string of questions naturally went unanswered. Gu Huaixiu turned toward Green Python and demanded, ‘Whose remains are those?’ Green Python shook its head like a rattle drum: ‘With so many bones looking nearly identical, how could I possibly remember who is who?’ Gu Huaixiu narrowed his eyes slightly before asking after a brief pause, ‘What sort of person would leave a wordless monument like this?’ Green Python tilted its neck in a thoughtful pose: ‘A wordless monument? That would mean the person themselves had no desire to leave an epitaph.’ ‘Could these epitaphs truly have been personally written by the owners of the skeletal remains?’ Wutong voiced the question lingering in his mind. ‘There’s no need for a physical brush or blade to write or carve,’ Green Python wobbled its head. ‘Once the array within this hall operates and the deceased transform into bones, whatever the owner of the remains held in their heart naturally manifests. Unless the person was utterly unwilling to erect a monument, or their heart had turned completely to ashes and all desires became void! In that case, nothing remains at all, leaving a complete blank.’ Its rambling explanation left Wutong thoroughly bewildered. Just as he wanted to press further, he felt his feet lift off the ground as Gu Huaixiu grabbed him and vaulted directly into the air from the floor. ‘My arm!’ Seized by one hand and suspended in mid-air, Wutong felt his arm stretch painfully and shrieked aloud. At that moment, as Gu Huaixiu levigated right in front of that niche, a swift glance allowed Wutong to catch sight of the cube resting in the center. It was so white it appeared nearly transparent, and had light not refracted as it passed through, it could practically be called invisible. When Gu Huaixiu reached out his arm to snatch the cube from its recess, a sudden, explosive burst of white light erupted from the cube, striking Gu Huaixiu squarely in the chest and knocking him directly downward! Suspended and aching from the pull, Wutong plummeted downward alongside him, realizing he was about to crash into the floor ahead of Gu Huaixiu. At the very last moment, however, Gu Huaixiu pulled him into his arms and twisted their bodies mid-air. With a heavy thud, Gu Huaixiu slammed hard against the stone floor, followed immediately by Wutong crashing onto his body, drawing a muffled groan from the man. ‘Hiss…’ Up on the door, Green Python likely witnessed the brutal impact and let out a sharp hiss. Lying prone on top of Gu Huaixiu, Wutong’s head spun in a daze. He had originally anticipated that this collision would smash his head open and warp his nose, yet he had completely failed to anticipate that Gu Huaixiu would make such a maneuver. Executed within such a minuscule window, it could only be an instinctive, reflexive reaction. Was he worried about me? Afraid that I would get hurt? Wutong shifted his gaze toward Gu Huaixiu. At close range, Gu Huaixiu wore an equally bewildered expression. ‘There really was no need for that, considering no harm could ever reach a little fellow like you anyway,’ Green Python clicked its tongue a few times before drawling slowly from the doorway ahead. Indeed, Wutong realized with a jolt. For that brief moment, he had completely forgotten about the damage-transfer property binding them; even if he had slammed straight into the ground, he would have emerged completely unscathed. Thus, had Gu Huaixiu similarly forgotten this fact in the heat of the moment, causing him to act as a human cushion purely out of reflex? Or perhaps, compared to letting Wutong take the fall, the impact he sustained by hitting the floor himself would somehow be lighter? While Wutong remained caught in indecision, Gu Huaixiu recovered his composure and barked gruffly, ‘Get up!’ ‘Oh.’ This time, Wutong obediently scrambled to his feet. Gu Huaixiu rose right behind him and turned once more to face Green Python. Having learned its lesson, Green Python spoke up immediately without waiting for them to question it: ‘I was just about to warn you to be careful, but who knew you were so rash! Haochen set up grand arrays throughout this Ancestral Mausoleum Hall. Once skeletal remains form and take their place, they become fixed and protected. Forget taking them away; you cannot even budge them by a fraction of a millimeter.’ Gu Huaixiu cast a cold gaze at the snake, his back molars clicking audibly. Feeling unnerved by the stare, Green Python stiffened its neck and defended itself: ‘Actually, I did mention an array earlier… The array is quite… formidable. If you refuse to take my word for it, feel free to try again, but don’t blame me for not warning you when you suffer.’ ‘Formidable in what way?’ Gu Huaixiu scoffed coldly, radiating complete skepticism. ‘Ignore advice and suffer the consequences,’ Green Python muttered while shaking his head. ‘Don’t assume that just because you managed to open the door, you can easily handle the array inside.’ Opening the door hadn’t been easy either, Wutong thought to himself. Furthermore, had these two lost track of the main point? Shouldn’t they be figuring out whose remains that transparent cube belonged to instead of picking a fight with a magical array? Just as Gu Huaixiu appeared genuinely prepared to make another attempt, a massive, muffled explosion echoed from outside the heavy doors!
Chapter 14 - Blank?
After The Demon Lord Became A Beautiful, Useless Accessory