Chapter Thirty: At the Brink of Life and Death, the Lord of the East Appears

Hao Dan had been lingering within the Tower of Celestial Guidance for quite some time. He did not know why, but suddenly a surge of spiritual force erupted at his back, propelling him forward in an instant. He found himself cast into a barren wasteland, a desert of endless yellow sand and dust. There was little need for Hao Dan to ponder the cause; it was surely the work of the All-Knowing One, My Self as Rain. Just moments before, he had been quietly observing this realm; seeing Hao Dan unmoved after a lengthy sojourn, the other had grown impatient and sent him into the heart of this desolate wilderness.

Here, countless deadly Desert Wrath-Drakes roamed—strange spiritual beasts seldom seen in the mortal world. With their immense destructive power, even Yan Lietian himself would find it difficult to slay them all. These Desert Wrath-Drakes were particularly troublesome; once they concealed themselves within swirling sandstorms, they would launch sudden assaults with their companions from beneath the sands. Should one be dragged under, survival was utterly impossible.

Upon landing, Hao Dan gazed woodenly at the endless barren desert, unaware that danger was already stealthily encroaching. Even with his keen senses, he detected no sign of imminent threat. Yet, just then, the once clear sky was abruptly overtaken by a mass of black clouds, gathering with unnatural speed. In an instant, the heavens were shrouded in darkness, bitter winds swept forth, and blinding sandstorm surged—a harbinger, perhaps, of the impending tempest. It was a doomsday vision the likes of which Hao Dan had never before witnessed.

His heart began to pound, not from fear but because he sensed something amiss. Unseen things moved rapidly beneath the sand at his feet, causing fissures to appear, and he could scarcely maintain his footing. He considered employing the Eye of Shaking Wood, a secret art from the Path of Mystical Gates, but here there was no tree or plant in sight—not even a cactus.

The Art of the Sealed Gate was largely lost to time; only Shaking Wood and the Eye of Creation had survived. As for the other arts of the Sealed Gate, Hao Dan had never even heard their secret incantations. He recalled that Xiao Bailing had once told him: of the sixty-four arts of the Mystical Gates, only twenty-two remained. The Sealed Gate: two arts—Shaking Wood and the Eye of Creation. The Wounded Gate: "Divine Punishment Net," "Refining Essence and Bone," "Hundred Phoenixes Return to the Mountain," "Frost Dominates the World." Of these, only Xiao Bailing had ever mastered Divine Punishment Net. The Fright Gate: one art, "Azure Dragon's Roar." The Rest Gate: two arts, "Sixfold Binding" and "Zero-Light Prison." The Life Gate: eight arts, but Hao Dan lacked the talent for these, and Xiao Bailing had refused to teach him their incantations, urging him to give up. The last of these legendary arts was rumored to be the Eternity of Stillness, long lost to history. The Open Gate: one art, "Adamantine Invulnerability," practiced by many in the Immortal Realm. The Death Gate: one art, "Void Inferno," akin to space manipulation, casting targets into the void to be inexorably torn apart until their souls utterly perished.

The Scene Gate retained three arts: "Empty Mountains, No One Treads" (the art of invisibility), "Serene Lotus in the Water" (the art of assimilation illusion), and the "Five Sons Eight Trigrams Array." The latter was a secret formation, set with five hidden moves; if the trapped failed to break the array within five steps, they would be confined for forty-nine days, ultimately refined into nothingness if they could not escape. Yet in the illusory void realm, Hao Dan had never grasped the mystery of this formation.

But to the matter at hand: the sandstorm drew ever nearer, and unknown creatures rushed beneath Hao Dan’s feet. Lacking the Adamantine Body of the Open Gate, he could only recite the Nine Divine Syllables. The nine golden characters leapt from his lips, dancing joyfully, circling him thrice before forming a colossal golden tortoise shell inscribed with arcane runes—the "Boundless Tortoise Shell" of the Nine Divine Syllables. This shell contained a world within, offering Hao Dan temporary refuge from fatal assault. Its defense was formidable, but could not be maintained for long.

Within the shell, Hao Dan could clearly see the outside world as countless desert pythons emerged from the sand, some erupting directly beneath his feet, sending waves of yellow sand skyward—a vision worthy of the underworld itself. These pythons, living long in this harsh land, were violently aggressive and thus earned the name Desert Wrath-Drakes.

In the midst of the swirling sand, the massive tortoise shell drew their attention. They surged toward it, their bodies terrifyingly massive, each more than thirty feet long and ten feet thick. At least fifty of the Wrath-Drakes now surrounded the shell, their heads adorned with crimson ridges, their eyes a demonic jade green, as if possessed by some sinister power. Hao Dan felt a chilling aura at work.

Hemmed in by these savage beasts, darkness reigned; even a glimmer of light was hard to find.

"Oho! Ohoho!" roared the largest, seemingly the leader, at the tortoise shell. The force of its bellow sent the shell flying, raising sand in towering waves. Within, Hao Dan pressed hands to his ears, the sound near to deafening. The other Wrath-Drakes joined their leader, unleashing a cacophony of roars, battering the tortoise shell with their mighty tails as if it were a mere plaything.

The relentless assault sent the shell spinning, and at last, it began to crack.

"Not good!"

Hao Dan, hands over his ears, pondered how to survive should the shell shatter. But there was little time for thought. The Boundless Tortoise Shell, battered by winds and blows, was about to break.

"Crack!"

With a crisp sound, the shell fractured and Hao Dan plummeted from midair. The Wrath-Drakes had tossed it skyward, toying with their prey. Their roars were almost gleeful.

Perhaps the time was ripe. The Eastern Emperor Bell, hung at Hao Dan’s neck, began to spin furiously. As he fell, the bell suddenly broke free from its golden chain—the very chain that had long restrained it, perhaps shattered by the Wrath-Drakes’ thunderous howls.

Now liberated, the Eastern Emperor Bell whirled with wild excitement, rapidly growing larger with each revolution until it spanned fifty feet. Hao Dan, still falling, was caught atop it as it soared into the sky, leaving countless afterimages in its wake. Bursting through the gloom, beyond the reach of the Wrath-Drakes, Hao Dan at last stood in the light again. He looked down; surely the Wrath-Drakes could not follow him so high. Yet, to his dismay, they could ride the sandstorm upward, a frenzy of pythons spiraling after the bell with relentless fury.

Suddenly, the voice of Dongjun sounded in Hao Dan’s ear. "Master!"

Hao Dan, grasping at hope like a drowning man to straw, replied at once. "Thank goodness for you—without your help, I would have been torn apart by those monsters!"

"Master, do not fear. Now that I have awakened from my slumber, I will protect you," Dongjun’s voice echoed from within the Eastern Emperor Bell at Hao Dan’s feet.

"But their numbers are overwhelming—can we withstand them?" Hao Dan asked, worried as he gazed down at the frenzied horde.

"Let me borrow your body for a moment!" Without waiting, Dongjun seized control. Hao Dan’s consciousness remained, but his body was no longer his own; he could feel everything Dongjun did in his stead.

A wisp of azure smoke arose, and in an instant Hao Dan’s robes transformed—he now stood atop the spinning bell, garbed in a golden-taiji daoist robe, silver hair streaming in the wind, with crimson eyes, enchanting and proud, a face radiating supreme confidence. He gazed down at the Wrath-Drakes, a faint, assured smile at his lips.

The monstrous pythons surged closer, roaring up at the bell. Now, Hao Dan was Dongjun—calm and unshakable. He stamped his foot lightly atop the bell and sneered.

A resonant crash sounded—a sound to split the heavens and deafen the earth.

The peal of the bell raced outward, spreading across the sky. A barely perceptible ripple fanned out from beneath the Eastern Emperor Bell, while a silvery sigil spun in place below. The bell’s sonorous wave swept down at the horde.

A thunderous boom followed as the Wrath-Drakes crashed into invisible walls of patterned sound, the arcane designs spinning with wondrous complexity. One after another, the Wrath-Drakes struck and fell, senseless, tumbling from the sky. Dongjun did not spare them a glance, instead turning his gaze through space, eyes piercing the void toward the All-Knowing One, My Self as Rain, who watched from beyond the Tower. For reasons unknown, Dongjun felt a strange stirring in his heart—a feeling he could not name or explain.

Another mighty clang resounded across the heavens.

Dongjun’s gaze returned; he stamped again atop the bell, sending another ripple surging downward. This time, the Wrath-Drakes were flung aside as if by a vast, invisible hand, the space itself seeming to pause and shudder. The monstrous pythons were hurled to the earth, boring gaping holes in the desert as they fell, sand billowing in great waves. None of them so much as stirred—they were as dead as stone.

"Master! The Eastern Emperor Bell is the foremost of the Ten Divine Artifacts—there’s no need to expend true power on such rabble. In the future, I will guide you in mastering our ultimate arts and lead you to find your other two souls, the Heavenly Soul and the Earthly Soul. Once you unite them, you may awaken the memories of your past life, and your former strength will return!"

"I feel as though fragments of memory dwell within my soul, as if a barrier stands in my mind. No matter how I strive, I cannot penetrate it—there’s a force that rebounds me whenever I approach. I remember these fragmented memories entered my mind the first time I saw you!" Hao Dan replied, able to converse though Dongjun controlled the body.

"In that case, things are simple," Dongjun said with a trace of amusement, as if the situation had become more interesting. Once more, he stamped atop the bell, sending a deep, ancient resonance rolling across the Three Realms.

"The Eastern Emperor returns to the world; let Heaven and Earth witness my supremacy."

"I bow neither to the Celestial Emperor nor the heavens—only I hold dominion over all between Heaven and Earth!"

The bell’s peal, together with Dongjun’s voice, pierced the heavens, reaching even the Ninth Heaven above, where Xiao Bailing, bound atop the Execution Terrace, shuddered with sudden awareness. All the immortals of the Nine Heavens heard it, none excepted. Xiao Bailing, her graceful form bound by the Immortal-Binding Rope to a celestial dais wreathed in cloud and mist, heard the bell as if it came from Hao Dan’s own lips, and her flawless face was filled with utter disbelief.

To be continued…