Volume One: The Hidden Dragon in the Abyss Chapter 128: The Scene

Is this the entrance?

Wang Chuan looked again carefully, and the village no longer resembled a village.

Faint voices drifted through the air.

“Go on your way, and may the wind be at your back.”

The voice was unmistakably familiar.

“Gravekeeper?” Wang Chuan was startled and glanced at Yao Tian beside him. “Since back then, you’ve placed those fallen demon gods here, haven’t you? With the saints returning to the void and the gods falling, it seems the divine race has vanished from everyone’s sight. So why do you still guard the spirits? If it’s to prevent others from violating the tombs, that seems unnecessary. Could it be that someone you care about rests inside?”

“Just something to do,” Yao Tian replied. “Stop.”

“Forget it. I have no interest in the cemetery. Let’s part ways here,” Wang Chuan said. “The demon realm and mortal realm are full of strange mysteries, connected to many worlds.”

As the voice fell, before his eyes, a strange world slowly unfolded with ripples. Wang Chuan saw a vast expanse shrouded in grey mist—endless and magnificent.

It was as if he beheld the bustling mortal realm.

Towering mountains, a boundless and majestic galaxy, void hidden deep in darkness—overlapping with the shadows, yet not darkness itself.

And there, powerful demon gods.

But far, far away, a place was slowly collapsing, as though being swallowed by some realm within the darkness.

“Is this the great calamity?” Wang Chuan frowned.

He could feel the aura of destruction.

That overwhelming force seemed irresistible, stirring fear even within him.

“Do you think that’s why the demon race ascended to the Nine Provinces? Because there was no other way. It is the end and the beginning of the cycle of eras,” Yao Tian said. “All tribes must begin to gather again, fighting for their final chance at survival.”

“This situation is truly heavy-hearted. The myriad worlds are beginning to crumble,” Wang Chuan said, calming his thoughts as he stepped forward, ready to leave.

“Aren’t you staying?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore. Life and death are predestined; it’s cultivation,” Yao Tian said calmly.

The other person also wore a serene expression.

In that instant, Wang Chuan felt something like holy light.

“I recall a story. A great ship of the sea was sinking, and in the final moments, several musicians played on, focused and earnest, even as disaster struck and death approached,” Wang Chuan sighed. “That kind of clarity moved me deeply. Yet ordinary people would think only to escape. For me, I want to know what could possibly kill me.”

He was too powerful, and still growing stronger.

So loneliness lingered—a helpless feeling.

The so-called great calamity compressed living space, and all tribes fought for the last refuge.

“People say you are the Human Emperor. Meeting me today, you’ll understand,” Yao Tian smiled.

“An unyielding will.”

“I don’t care about being called Human Emperor. To me, it’s more a responsibility than an honor. I don’t like such titles,” Wang Chuan shook his head. “Others might do better. Sometimes I care too much, unable to pursue what I love. That won’t happen anymore. A senior I once knew made a grand vow—that everyone in the world would be like dragons! I’ve always thought such a person is worthy to lead humanity.”

“Everyone in the world like dragons—that’s a grand aspiration,” both men admired.

To be as resilient and unyielding as a noble person is no easy feat.

How many in the world could truly achieve that?

Wang Chuan bid them farewell and moved toward where the army marched forward, as if he had found the path to the mortal realm.

Yet at this moment, it remained difficult for the demon race to enter the mortal realm; the barrier in the galaxy still stood.

The laws of the heavens continued their eternal rotation.

Ahead, towering mountains rose, lush and verdant, yet shrouded in grey mist, making them appear vague and indistinct.

After so many years, perhaps the demon realm had changed beyond recognition, no longer the place he knew.

Would he encounter demon gods? He could not say.

The dense fog stretched endlessly, mountains looming faintly. Wang Chuan advanced with the others from the demon realm.

“Divine race? Why appear here?”

Suddenly, a voice descended from the sky, enveloping him completely, exposing him among those nearby.

“The divine race is so noble, so proud. How could they hide their aura and masquerade as our kind? Only the despicable human race would do such a thing,” the voice rang out.

From all directions came shrieks—piercing cries echoing through the dim, hazy world, harsh and grating.

Hearing it was the divine race, many nearly fled in terror, panic surging.

But hearing it was the human race, their spirits lifted.

“Human race? Where are the humans?”

“Humans? The despicable humans who once defeated us? How dare they come here?”

“I heard human flesh is tender and nutritious. I must taste it.”

…

Wang Chuan frowned and gazed into the distance, the river boiling and churning.

Distant mountains trembled, like dragons rising, like tigers standing.

And they strode forward in his direction.

The demon race, fierce and unrestrained, acted with such reckless abandon.

The demons swarmed chaotically, chilling to the bone.

Once a dominant and powerful race, after so many years of growth, they remained strong, licking their wounds and slowly recovering.

Wang Chuan’s vital energy surged forth, transforming into beams of sword light that pierced through the darkness.

The demon race charged wildly like ocean waves, terrifying in their ferocity!

Yet he cut through the wind and waves with ease.