Chapter Sixty-Six: The Great Catastrophe of the Primordial Void

Regrettably, the clash between the horde of monsters and the mob of ghosts and raging corpses was not nearly as fierce as Luo Zu had anticipated. On the contrary, the two parties passed one another as if they were utterly unrelated, and nothing at all transpired—like parallel lines, incapable of intersecting. The ghostly corpses drifted through the ranks of the monsters without the faintest interest, as if the “self-serve feast” before them was utterly beneath their notice.

This was entirely at odds with the nature of these malicious spirits and corpses, but it happened, plain as daylight, right under Luo Zu’s nose.

At this hour of the deepest night, the “Cave Dweller” tribe could only huddle temporarily within Salt Spring Village, the bonfires here blazing to ward off the onslaught of vengeful spirits and malevolent ghosts. The monsters had lived upon this land far longer than the humans; doubtless, they had their own methods for dealing with such specters. Among this monster horde were many formidable beings, and at least one true immortal presided over them. So long as they were not beset by some ancient ghost of a million years, the company would come to no harm.

Moreover, by this time, the migrating monsters were already a thousand miles from Luo Zu’s party. Their pace was nothing the “Cave Dwellers” could match. They used supernatural techniques to race through the mountains, and it was clear they were restraining themselves; otherwise, as Xi had mentioned, they could have employed flying vessels and vanished ten thousand miles in an instant.

Luo Zu estimated that by the end of this sleepless night, the monsters would have traveled three thousand miles further; by the next afternoon, the distance might well exceed ten thousand. But even with such conjectures, he dared not grow complacent. Once the sun rose, he would lead the “Cave Dwellers” onward in their migration. Not until they were separated by ten thousand miles would he feel any peace of mind.

Luo Zu exhaled softly, exchanging breaths with the cool, silvery essence of the night. He glanced to the sky—and his eyes widened at once.

A rolling thunderclap boomed, wave after wave battering his ears without mercy.

They were airborne! The monsters had taken flight!

More precisely, three colossal vessels, each a hundred miles long, abruptly filled Luo Zu’s field of view. Before he could even blink, they transformed into streaks of light, shooting away into the distance.

The three ship-like craft appeared out of nowhere, drawing the bulk of the monster horde aboard, before fleeing with unrestrained haste. Their speed was staggering—within the blink of an eye, they had covered three thousand miles. The only reason Luo Zu could see what happened next was because, at that distance, the three vessels exploded in a tremendous blast.

Within that brief interval, Luo Zu activated the full capacity of his nine incarnate brains, pushing his clairvoyance to the fifth level and thus glimpsed the cause of the explosion. It was a shaft of radiant light shaped like an arrow. It pierced through the three flying vessels, setting them ablaze and causing them to erupt in midair.

Upon seeing that arrow of light, Luo Zu’s sharpened mind immediately recalled one thing: the incident from a year ago involving the shaman called “Loss” from the Hot Shaman tribe. The man’s arrows had left a deep impression on Luo Zu, but all shamans from Hou Yi’s homeland were said to be skilled in archery—this could have been any of them.

Almost at once, the aftershock from the explosion swept across the land.

A gale roared and thundered. The entire forest trembled as if shaken by a hurricane of the eighteenth degree. Fortunately, the houses in Salt Spring had been built upon deep foundations, so they were not ripped out by the roots. The roofs were not so lucky; constructed only of wooden poles and stacked tiles, they were torn away, sent flying hundreds of miles by the storm.

Luo Zu hurriedly sent word to the entire village to shelter inside, warning everyone to remain indoors—if anyone was swept away by the wind, he would have no means to save them.

Dirt, wood, and stones were carried by the wind, crashing into the village. Some houses were smashed open, burying the inhabitants inside. Even so, Luo Zu could do nothing; he was contending with an even greater danger—the wreckage of the flying ships. Despite being eight thousand miles away, both sides had unleashed their full power, and the shockwaves spilled out unrestrained. This explosion was even more terrifying than the magical battle from before.

Even across eight thousand miles, the fragments of the flying vessels retained fearful destructive force. On a nearby mountain, a shard struck, and in an instant, a hill a thousand feet tall collapsed into a cloud of dust, swept away by the wind, leaving only a jagged expanse of bare earth.

Then, another fragment hurtled toward Salt Spring Village. Luo Zu’s heart tightened; he could spare no attention for the village’s collapsed houses.

Closer and closer—

A shrill whistle, but the fragment outpaced its own sound. Luo Zu, relying on his tremendous mental power, sensed it first.

At this moment, his nine incarnate brains worked in concert at their utmost limit. All the data gathered by his spiritual and physical senses—the myriad subtle details—were instantaneously transmitted to his minds, which calculated every possible outcome, devising a response.

Countless solutions flashed through his thoughts, played out simultaneously in each mind, both incarnate and corporeal. In the time it took for a single breath after detecting the incoming fragment, Luo Zu devised a response. He had mastered one hundred and eight arts, each elevated to the third rank—though not yet at the limit of spirit refinement, it was a hard-won achievement, given that he had only reached this stage a year prior. Now, his plan was to unleash all one hundred and eight arts at once.

These arts encompassed everything: the five elemental powers of the “Cave Dwellers,” as well as all manner of strange and esoteric techniques. If perfectly combined and wielded with utmost precision, their collective force could rival that of a sixth-rank art—the very limit of spirit refinement.

He had not even thought to name the technique before unleashing it.

Barring interference, the art would be unerring, swift, and wide-reaching; it struck the incoming fragment at once.

Yet, it was instantly shredded by the flying debris.

Such merciless annihilation.

But the fragment’s speed was greatly reduced.

Of course, this outcome was within Luo Zu’s calculations.

Immediately, he invoked the World-in-a-Jar technique.

The roar of the fragment vanished in an instant.

Luo Zu exhaled a thick, blood-tinged breath.

Clang.

At his feet lay a shard of wreckage, as large as a man.