Tracing his fingers over the stone tablet, he read it out word by word—
“The calamity has arrived. The divine realm no longer exists.”
Beneath these eight characters, the account grew increasingly chaotic. After Shen Ming had read it all, he roughly understood what had happened.
The unknown deities who had recorded this were likely minor immortals. When they realized they were already dead, they didn’t even know what had happened. All they saw were corpses everywhere, drifting souls as far as the eye could see, and the upper realm sealed shut.
All the gods had died at the same moment. The cause was unknown, but it must have been something truly terrifying. And because the upper realm was sealed, their souls could not enter the underworld as they should have. A soul detached from its vessel cannot last long—even for gods. So over the millennia, these divine souls lingered here, gradually dissipating, leaving behind only a dead silence.
The process of dissipation was not peaceful.
Some gods continuously assaulted the sealed boundary, but every attack consumed them, causing them to fade even faster.
Others, like the ones who had recorded this, quickly accepted reality and gave up struggling. They used the last remnants of their spiritual clarity to document this information, hoping to help any who might come after—if any ever did.
A few gods who held dominion over death, time, and fate had more freedom as spiritual beings. They gathered all the corpses together and attempted to reverse time using some forbidden technique.
But the upper realm was sealed too thoroughly. Despite numerous attempts, they could not draw upon the power of the underworld. They failed completely, leaving behind only the horrifying scene of corpses that remained.
Even worse, some gods, faced with the threat of annihilation, succumbed to evil thoughts. They used every means possible to preserve their spiritual forms, reckless and desperate, even seeking power and methods of survival from beyond the realm.
They succeeded in surviving. But they were no longer gods. They had become outer demons, having lost all reason. They no longer knew what they had originally sought. Only the instinct to pursue energy—enough to continue existing rather than dissipating—remained.
After hearing Shen Ming’s translation, Elder Li’s first reaction was disbelief. “What power could kill every single god in an instant? That’s impossible!”
But the evidence lay before him. No matter how hard it was to accept, he had to believe it.
The upper realm as it now stood was exactly as they saw it—a realm that existed in name only.
In this world, there was no longer any upper realm to ascend to.
From shock and doubt to daze, Elder Li tried hard to convince himself to accept reality. But the pursuit of ten thousand years had crumbled in an instant—and so completely. Before, even knowing the upper realm was sealed, there had always been some hope in his heart: if only the seal could be broken one day, there would still be a chance.
But now?
For a moment, the old tree spirit’s eyes lost their luster. Withered leaves scattered across the ground. Ye Yang quickly steadied Elder Li and channeled some energy into him.
Xing Tian was already contemplating what kind of power could achieve such a feat.
Shen Ming thought more deeply. The record-keepers had been weak and had exhausted their divine power carving the stone tablets, so their spiritual forms had dissipated early. What had become of the remaining powerful gods after they were gone was unknown to anyone. But looking at the utter stillness of the upper realm, he feared…
He extended his divine sense again to scan all the corpses once more. Suddenly, Shen Ming realized—the White Tiger’s body was not here.
Such an important detail, and his mind had been so shaken that he had completely missed it!
The White Tiger was not mentioned in the stone tablets either. Perhaps he had found a way to reach the lower realm before the seal—or the demon realm, or the human realm, or the underworld. Or perhaps he simply hadn’t been in the upper realm at the time.
Just as everyone was growing somewhat lost, the upper realm—which had been so utterly still that every breath of energy seemed frozen—suddenly stirred with an unexplained surge of spiritual power.
The density of spiritual energy intensified even further. Ye Yang, standing in the midst of it, felt his own spiritual energy grow increasingly sluggish. The thick, viscous spiritual pressure crushed down on him, making it hard to breathe.
In the blink of an eye, the formless, colorless spiritual energy of heaven and earth manifested as a white, mist-like substance!
A massive amount of spiritual energy suddenly convulsed, the white mist churning as if stirred by a giant hand. Then, before anyone could react, this spiritual energy poured downward through the breach torn open by the Vermilion Bird’s divine power.
“Oh no!”
Elder Li jolted awake and rushed outward.
If that much spiritual energy suddenly burst into the lower realm, disaster would strike the human world!
At the intersection of the two realms, Yan Yungui was struggling desperately. His expression was twisted with effort; under the torrent of spiritual energy, his entire body seemed stretched to its limit.
But no matter how much power he used, he couldn’t stop even a fraction of it. The spiritual energy stream pierced through his body at lightning speed, like a full bowl of wine being callously poured onto the ground.
Seeing this, Ye Yang had a sudden moment of epiphany—he understood everything in an instant.
So this was the truth behind the spiritual energy revival!
The spiritual energy emanating from the dead gods had been continuously leaking through the already crumbling barrier between the two realms. This wasn’t a revival of spiritual energy—it was the weakening of the upper realm’s seal.
And now, with this massive outpour of spiritual energy, the human realm—which had long lacked sufficient spiritual energy—was being struck by an overwhelming flood. It couldn’t absorb it all at once, and the living beings of the human realm couldn’t adapt immediately. Disaster was inevitable.
Elder Li no longer had the luxury of wallowing in his own sorrow. He quickly led everyone back to YCG and began organizing all branches to prepare for combat.
Now was not the time to study what exactly had happened in the upper realm. Shen Ming resealed the upper realm, left a divine sense to guard it, and returned to YCG headquarters a bit more slowly.
There was almost no time for rest. Every available person and resource was mobilized and kept running continuously.
Other regions fared relatively better—the impact there wasn’t as severe. They only experienced things like certain plants or animals growing wildly or becoming gigantic, inexplicable heavenly fires, rising river levels, and so on.
But Dongzhou, bearing the brunt of it, saw an explosion of anomalous events.
In broad daylight, before a crowd of onlookers, a man suddenly transformed into a monster. His internal organs expanded rapidly like balloons being inflated, growing faster and faster as stunned bystanders watched, until they tore through his flesh and he completely lost his human form.
The towering monster lifted one foot, and where it stepped, several unrecognizable smears of pulped flesh appeared, with splattered blood flying high into the air.
An outward-facing flesh claw swung through the air, shrouding everything in a fine blood mist. Then—plop—chunks of flesh, large and small, rained down onto the ground.
“AHHHHH———!!!”
A terrified scream jolted the dazed crowd. People finally snapped out of it and scattered in every direction.
Those nearby who were splattered with the flying blood and flesh immediately felt their skin begin to rot and ulcerate. In their fear and despair, they ran around haphazardly, and this curse-like plague spread rapidly through the crowd.
This happened at a downtown subway station.
There was no warning. It came too suddenly. By the time YCG personnel arrived, in addition to the dozens killed by the monster itself, hundreds had suffered from contact with its rotting blood, and nearly a thousand more had been trampled to death.
At the same time, in the southern part of Dongzhou City, a twelve-year-old girl with severe abdominal pain was taken to the hospital by her parents. The examination revealed she was pregnant. During a heated argument with her parents, right before the doctors’ eyes, her flat stomach rapidly swelled to the size of a five-month pregnancy—and kept growing, as if it would burst at any moment.
It didn’t burst in the end. But everyone around her—regardless of age, gender, or any other factor—developed the same swollen belly.
…
Similar incidents kept happening. Ye Yang rushed from place to place. So did Shen Ming. So did everyone. There was no time to rest. No one knew what would happen next, or where.
The Crisis Management Department had long since been overwhelmed. The official human authorities, from the highest levels down to the grassroots, had been forced to learn about YCG’s existence. In an extremely short time, they had to rebuild their entire worldview and immediately throw themselves into new work—managing collective memory.
If Elder Li and other great powers hadn’t quickly set up a temporary barrier at Dongzhou’s borders to control the rate at which spiritual energy leaked into other regions, things would have been even more overwhelming.
Once everyone got busy, there was no time to dwell on other matters. The situation in the upper realm was set aside for the time being—until Shen Ming encountered an old acquaintance.
·
This happened three days after the spiritual energy eruption. It was the first task that brought Ye Yang and Shen Ming together.
To be precise, each of them had two or three tasks of their own. It just so happened that their task locations were all concentrated in the northern suburbs of Dongzhou.
Shen Ming’s scale had become highly integrated with Ye Yang’s body. As soon as the two drew close, they could naturally sense each other without any other sign.
Ye Yang’s spirits lifted. He handled his tasks efficiently and quickly, hoping to use the precious bit of time before new tasks were assigned to see Shen Ming. There was nothing in particular to say, but just a few words of casual conversation would be nice.
When he realized Shen Ming was getting closer, Ye Yang felt even more energized. Teacher Shen really was in sync with him.
They hadn’t agreed on a meeting place—just went wherever their paths took them. The point where their two lines intersected happened to be a village in Dongzhou’s northern suburbs.
The moment they saw each other, Shen Ming smiled. Ye Yang smiled too. Shen Ming stepped forward and naturally took Ye Yang’s hand.
Ye Yang blinked. Though he still didn’t quite understand it, he had grown accustomed to it. He actually quite liked holding hands with Teacher Shen. The Black Tortoise’s divine power radiated naturally, making each step feel lighter.
It had only been three days since they last saw each other, yet both felt as if much more time had passed. Though their conversation still revolved around the situation in Dongzhou and their tasks, Ye Yang felt all his fatigue swept away.
They walked along a small river in the village for a while, until Ye Yang finally stopped. No matter how reluctant he was, it was time to say goodbye. At a time like this, even a few minutes of relaxation were a luxury.
“I should go now, Teacher Shen.”
Shen Ming paused. “…I should go too.”
Ye Yang tried to pull his hand back. It didn’t budge.
He looked down at their intertwined hands, then up at Shen Ming. Shen Ming’s brow was furrowed, his expression clearly reluctant.
Ye Yang had never seen Shen Ming like this before. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Come on, Teacher Shen. Are you throwing a tantrum like a little kid?”
Shen Ming had no retort. He reluctantly loosened his grip—then suddenly, his expression sharpened. He grabbed Ye Yang’s hand again, even tighter than before.
“No. There’s divine power nearby.”
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