Lin Moyu rushed to the corpse-mountain the Undying Spirit Soldiers had found. The "mountain" was unimaginably vast, stretching like a colossal range into the distance; even with his eyesight, he couldn't see its end at a glance. Most of the body lay buried underground—perhaps less than a tenth protruded above the surface.
In Chaos and the Ancient Wilds, the largest creature Lin had seen was the Chaos Wild Ox—millions of li long, like a moving world. Yet compared with the corpse before him, even the Chaos Wild Ox seemed lacking. Heaven-and-earth rules differ across worlds, but as a rule, size determines might; a body this enormous spoke for its lifetime power. Pity it was dead—its aura utterly gone. With the rules shattered, no new consciousness could be born. It was dead beyond doubt.
"This corpse must be not merely tens of millions of li…" Lin surveyed it carefully and murmured.
The Primal Chaos Gem also studied the body. "I think I've seen this one… let me recall." He searched his vast memory. A moment later he found the answer. "I remember now—it's that one. No wonder this heaven-and-earth felt familiar. So that's it."
Lin understood and gave him a prompt. "Then please explain in detail."
The Primal Chaos Gem chuckled. "Since you ask, I'll tell you. This fellow was the Supreme of this heaven-and-earth."
"A Supreme?" Lin was startled. So he was looking at a Supreme's corpse. That would explain the sheer size.
"He was called Canglong, and this world was known as Canglong Heaven-and-Earth. Among all Supremes, his strength ranked in the top hundred," the Gem continued. "There are quite a few Supremes—top-hundred is already elite. By then he was already very powerful: not only had he refined his heaven-and-earth, he had also obtained the Primal Dawn Art, holding the entire heaven-and-earth in his hand. I recall he owned a treasure from the Heaven-and-Earth Wall—an existence on the same tier as a heaven-and-earth itself. Using it, he extended his world's lifespan with an effect even better than Primal Dawn Qi. Originally his world could endure only five cycles of the Cataclysm; with that treasure the interval between Cataclysms was doubled—still five cycles, but each cycle lasted twice as long. Supremes do not wish to die; they form expeditions to other remnants seeking Primal Dawn Qi and rare treasures largely to extend their world's life—and thus their own."
"Perhaps that very treasure is what turned a world that should have collapsed outright into a slow-collapse—leaving Canglong's corpse preserved," Lin said.
"Likely so," the Gem agreed. "Materials from the Heaven-and-Earth Wall are many, but true treasures are rare—one or two appear only occasionally. Canglong was fortunate."
"Is there a chance the treasure is still here?" Lin asked.
"I recall Canglong merged it into the world core to avoid future troubles," said the Gem. "If it survives, it would be within the core."
Lin nodded. "I have another thought: could I revive him?"
"No." The Primal Chaos Gem cut him off, absolutely certain.
"Why?"
"It's not that you lack the power to revive him—it's what happens after. He is a Supreme; a Supreme is bound to his heaven-and-earth and cannot be separated. And a Supreme cannot forcibly enter another heaven-and-earth unless to invade and seize it—doing so triggers premature collapse. This world is already dead; if you forced Canglong back, the dead world could not bear his might, would collapse rapidly, and Canglong would die again. Not even your arts could revive him twice. Worse, once that rapid collapse begins, you may never find the way back."
He laid out several reasons; none favored revival. It wasn't impossible—but the aftermath would be disastrous. Better not.
Lin gave up the idea. "Forget it," he thought. "Reviving him would be digging my own grave."
The Primal Chaos Gem pointed into the distance. "Master, there's something there."
Lin immediately flew where he indicated. Canglong's corpse, like a mountain range, meandered for tens of millions of li. The spot the Gem pointed to was the tail's location. The tail was likewise enormous, most of it deep underground, only a tiny portion visible.
At first glance Lin found nothing, but looking closely he noticed a tiny fissure where the tail pierced the ground. "Tiny" only in proportion to Canglong's scale—the crack was over a thousand meters wide, a grand canyon in its own right.
"It's at the deepest end of the tail," said the Gem.
Lin entered the crack and descended. Compared with the colossal tail, he was a mote of dust. Though Canglong was a corpse, the scales still shone with a metallic luster. The crack looked as if the tail had smashed the ground, but on closer inspection bore artificial traces.
"Someone's been here," Lin thought. The deeper he went, the clearer the man-made signs; certainly someone had come, though many ages ago—not the September Supreme.
Gradually Lin sensed a different aura. Canglong's corpse leaked none—its aura had vanished with the collapse—but now he felt something else.
"Primal Dawn Qi…" Lin was surprised. Though faint, it was unmistakable. "So there really is Primal Dawn Qi here."
Then he sensed a second foreign aura—one from Chaos and the Ancient Wilds.
Lin's heart stirred. "I've probably found the corpses the Chaos Wild Ox wanted me to retrieve."
At last he reached the deepest point: a vast cavern and a pool of clear water at its heart. In the middle of the pool sat a man in meditation; at the pool's edge lay a bull, prostrate as if drinking. Both were corpses—the two bodies the Chaos Wild Ox had asked him to bring back. The pool's water was transmuted Primal Dawn Qi.
"They were using the Primal Dawn Qi to temper their bodies," the Gem said. "They look dead, but their bodies still live. After countless years of tempering, the flesh is already very strong—just a notch below yours. And this isn't ordinary Primal Dawn Qi; it leaked from Canglong's corpse and contains a trace of his power—far more effective."
"Who are they, and why are they here?" Lin asked softly.
Suddenly the Chaos Seed cried out, "How could it be him!"
"You know him?" Lin asked.
The Chaos Seed flew out, circling the bull's body. "He is the Wangu Wild Ox."
The Wangu Wild Ox—ranked third in the distant antiquity, famed for invincible defense. Yet this carcass looked like an ordinary ox. By Lin's understanding, the Wangu Wild Ox should be gigantic—after all, in Chaos and the Ancient Wilds, the larger the body, the greater the strength. "This one's… small," Lin couldn't help saying.
"The Wangu Wild Ox can be great or small," the Chaos Seed said. "At great size, a million li; at small, under ten meters. When he shrinks, his defense is at its peak—at ten meters, all laws fail; no one can harm even a hair."
"Ten meters? But this one is at most five," Lin noted.
"The Seed is right," the Primal Chaos Gem added. "This fellow's flesh is very strong—even stronger than the man in the pool."
Using himself as the baseline at 100, Lin estimated: the man in the pool was about 80; the Wangu Wild Ox at the rim, about 90. Most Supreme Venerables' bodies were only 60–70 by comparison—far behind.
If the Wangu Wild Ox's body was here, and the Chaos Wild Ox wanted him to bring back these bodies, then what was the relationship between the Chaos Wild Ox and the Wangu Wild Ox? The two seemed to share many similarities. Lin had once guessed the Chaos Wild Ox might carry the Wangu Wild Ox's bloodline; now it seemed not so simple.
Feeling the ages that clung to the bodies, Lin couldn't fix the exact time, but roughly judged the Wangu Wild Ox fell during the second Cataclysm. The question then: since he had fallen, how did he end up here? That must be linked to the man in the pool—so who was he, precisely?
After studying a while, the Primal Chaos Gem said quietly, "Master, he bears the aura of destiny."
"Destiny…" Lin's mind flashed; everything snapped into place. The man in the pool was the Destiny Venerable—Lin was eighty percent sure. By what Lin knew, back then the Destiny Venerable had deduced the future—foreseeing Lin's appearance—so that the Calamity Supreme and others could set their plans. He suffered backlash and 'dissolved his body to reincarnate,' then disappeared. That claim of reincarnation came only from him; whether it was true, none knew. In any case, he never reappeared, and everyone assumed he had indeed dissolved away.
Now it seemed otherwise: the Destiny Venerable had not truly dissolved—he came here. Likely, after calculating his fate, he discovered something and used "dissolution" as a ruse to slip away. He brought the Wangu Wild Ox's body, found Canglong's corpse, and used the residual Primal Dawn Qi to strengthen flesh. With the Cataclysm rising again, he needed to reclaim his body; unable to come himself, he enlisted Lin to retrieve it—surely foreseen by destiny.
Thus, the Destiny Venerable was not dead—his soul still remained in Chaos and the Ancient Wilds. As to where—wasn't the answer obvious? His soul resided within the Chaos Wild Ox—and the Chaos Wild Ox was the reincarnated body of the Wangu Wild Ox. The two "corpses" Lin would bring back were in fact their physical bodies. With bodies restored, the Wangu Wild Ox would reappear, and the Destiny Venerable's strength would far surpass before. Only thus would they have a chance to survive the Cataclysm.
This was Lin's half-deduction, half-guess. Even if not perfect, it was close.
He was curious—what had the Destiny Venerable truly seen in the future he deduced back then? He had certainly kept much from the Calamity Supreme; otherwise he wouldn't have made plans like these.
But whatever the case—first secure the Po-Cang Crystal. Get these two back.
Lin took out the stone pagoda. It flared softly, rapidly enlarging; two beams enveloped the Wangu Wild Ox and the Destiny Venerable's bodies and drew them inside. The process went smoothly.
After stowing them, Lin slashed the ground with a hand like a blade, dug out a great pit, cut the Primal Dawn Qi pool free in one piece, and put it away as well—planning to hand it to the Chaos Wild Ox. A show of good faith; he still had questions for him, and a better relationship would make asking easier.
With the bodies secured, Lin rose and left without lingering. Canglong's corpse was for viewing, not using—better to go, out of sight, out of mind.
The first task was done; on to the second—finding the September Supreme. That first task had gone smoothly, with barely a ripple—just time spent. The Undying Spirit Soldiers continued to scout. Half a year of exploration and still no edge of the world, no trace of the September Supreme, no world core. As the search expanded, Lin had now deployed five hundred billion soldiers. If it were the September Supreme working alone, even a hundred thousand years might not suffice to traverse the whole world. This was not Chaos and the Ancient Wilds; the rules were different, and she could not sense via heaven-and-earth rules.
Lin searched patiently. He wasn't idle: he studied the arrays left across Canglong Heaven-and-Earth, and, comparing arrays from different worlds, his comprehension rose again. He began to break free of Chaos-bound thinking—his understanding of arrays was starting to transcend heaven-and-earth. It was still a hazy intuition, but he believed that if he continued, his formations would one day surpass heaven-and-earth.
At last, three years later, the Undying Spirit Soldiers reported new findings: they had found traces of the September Supreme—a palm-print about a kilometer across, pressed into the ground, the earth sunk a hundred meters. Only a hundred meters—so the force wasn't great. On the palm-print were some markings; faintly, one could make out nine bright moons.
At last—some clues.