He didn't give Quinn Shepherd a chance to speak, muttering to himself: "I'm just afraid that Witch-Venerable will play dirty, use wheel-battle tactics against me, and keep me pinned down... That would be troublesome..."
Not long after, Loulan Golden Palace finally appeared before them.
From afar, Quinn saw that on the endless grasslands, a vast lake had suddenly emerged, its blue waves rippling, broad enough to seem like an inland sea.
Quinn gazed into the distance, faintly seeing that on the far side of the lake lay a chain of mountains, their high peaks draped in silver and piled with snow.
And between those towering mountains stood a blazing golden peak. Quinn activated his Divine Firmament Heaven Eye and saw that it wasn't a mountain of gold, but a dazzling complex of palaces.
There were so many palaces that they blanketed the entire mountain, so from afar it looked like a golden peak made entirely of gold.
On the grasslands, there is no fixed currency—only gold circulates. Along the way, they had paid for meals using the gold ingots gifted by General Bian Zhenyun.
For the people of the grasslands, gold is rare and highly prized, yet here the palaces were built from pure gold, flaunting unimaginable luxury.
Libationer Barrett reached the lakeshore. Quinn looked around and saw a wooden boat moored there, with a horned man in black standing at the prow, leaning on a bamboo pole.
In the shallows of the lake, wooden poles were stuck in at odd angles, and on each one hung a rotting human head.
"The great shamans who refine souls for their arts are even more like a demonic cult than our Heavenly Saint Cult."
Quinn looked at the man. His face was somewhat goat-like, but brown rather than the usual white of a mountain goat, and almost hairless.
"Goat-Face Grand Shaman?" Quinn was slightly taken aback.
Back in the capital, Quinn had treated several border generals poisoned by soul-witch arts. He'd heard them mention encountering a horned barbarian who made them look in a mirror, after which they fell into a coma.
Quinn had originally thought the barbarian great shaman wore a mask, but now, seeing the one on the boat, realized that horned barbarians truly existed.
The Goat-Face Grand Shaman glanced at them and let out a piercing voice: "Martial Khan, Witch-Venerable has been waiting a long time! Please board the boat!"
Libationer Barrett stepped onto the boat, laughing: "This lake is Weakwater—there's no buoyancy, even a feather would sink. Only Loulan Golden Palace's boats can cross. Let's get on."
Quinn and Lynn boarded the wooden boat, with the Jadehide Ox and Lina following. The great shaman's gaze lingered on Quinn and Lynn, sneering before punting the boat toward the far shore.
Lynn laughed, "Can't we just walk across Weakwater? Or fly over it?"
The barbarian great shaman sneered, "Fly over? Try the air here—see if you can even get airborne. The air is dead."
"Dead air?" Lynn was puzzled.
The Jadehide Ox rumbled, "The air here really is dead. You can't fly."
He was skilled at controlling wind and thunder, and could sense that the air here didn't move at all. Normally, when people breathe, the air flows in and out, but if the air doesn't move, one breath would empty the air beneath your nose, creating a vacuum. With no fresh air to replace it, you'd suffocate.
That's exactly how this Weakwater lake worked. A mysterious force kept the air above the lake completely still. Only when the boat glided forward did the people aboard move with it, so their breathing felt normal. But if the boat stopped, they'd quickly use up the air under their noses, and after a while, they'd suffocate.
As for flight techniques, trying to fly over the lake was nearly impossible. Flight arts relied on vibrating the air to generate lift, but here, vibrating the air just created a vacuum—there was no way to take off.
Lina tried, but found her wind and rain spells were completely useless here.
The barbarian great shaman chuckled, "You could go around, I suppose. But Weakwater Lake is so wide, you'd spend two days circling it, and once you reach the snow mountains... well, not many make it back out."
Lynn shuddered in disbelief.
Quinn quietly activated his Divine Firmament Heaven Eye and Azure Firmament Heaven Eye, scanning the sky. He vaguely saw a faint, mist-like veil covering the entire lake, and thought to himself, "So it's this thin veil that's stopping the air from moving, huh?"
The veil couldn't be touched, but it was definitely real. It must be the restriction Libationer Barrett had mentioned.
He glanced down at the water, and his heart trembled. The lakebed was littered with white bones, sunken at the bottom. Lynn looked down too and gasped quietly.
Libationer Barrett said, "Those are the slaves the witch-cult used up in their arts."
Quinn felt his skin crawl.
The Goat-Face Grand Shaman punted the boat swiftly. He had a unique secret art that let him skim across the lake, and Weakwater couldn't sink his craft.
Soon, the wooden boat docked at the foot of the snowy mountain. The Goat-Face Grand Shaman chuckled, "Martial Khan, this way!"
Libationer Barrett smiled and strode toward the blazing golden peak.
Doo—doo—
A long, deep horn sounded from the mountain, its thick resonance shaking their eardrums and chests. In the distance, avalanches thundered down the snowy peaks, adding to the heavy, oppressive atmosphere.
Libationer Barrett laughed loudly, his voice drowning out the horn and avalanche. Quinn and the others felt nothing unusual, but those on the mountain were shaken—blood boiling, heads swelling as if about to burst, unable to suppress it.
Then, a heavy voice called from the mountain: "Martial Khan, your cultivation is even stronger than before. Why greet us with such a show of force? Please, come up the mountain!"
Even amid Barrett's laughter, the voice was clear—old, but full of strength, obviously a peerless expert.
"If Witch-Venerable summons me, I can't refuse. But I've come to blockade your gates, not to reminisce."
Barrett spoke leisurely to the distant voice, "I'll come up at once!"
Quinn looked up and saw a golden staircase leading all the way up the mountain. Not far along stood a colossal golden gate frame, but no door.
The gate was made entirely of gold, over ten zhang tall and more than twenty wide, inlaid with gems and pearls—pure extravagance.
Years ago, Butcher brought Barrett here. They blockaded the gate for three months, defeated the young talents of Loulan Golden Palace, and fought every expert who came from the grasslands.
Barrett was honored as Martial Emperor by the steppe.
Butcher, after a hundred battles, beat down all the elders of Loulan Golden Palace and earned the titles Heavenly Khan and Frontier Heavenly Emperor.
Barrett led them to the gate, where many great shamans were waiting. Some were famous steppe experts, not palace disciples, drawn by the news.
"Niu-niu!" Barrett called out.
The Jadehide Ox let out a low bellow, its body suddenly swelling, muscles bulging, growing taller and fiercer until it became a hulking ox-headed brute. It strode to the golden gate, shrugged its massive shoulders, and uprooted the gate entirely!
The barbarian great shamans and steppe experts nearby were all stunned.
Libationer Barrett said calmly, "Carry the gate up the mountain!"
Quinn's heart trembled. He understood Barrett's intent: blockading the gate at the mountain's base made it hard to reach Loulan Golden Palace's heart, but carrying the gate up to block the main hall would make it easier to steal Butcher's lower body.
But doing so would utterly offend Loulan Golden Palace—this could be a fight to the death.
If they went deeper into the palace, the strongmen could block the way down, trapping them inside. That would be dangerous.
Barrett snorted and strode forward, sending a voice transmission to Quinn: "Once we're on the mountain, you two won't be blocking the gate anymore. They'll be coming for me. This isn't quite how I pictured things..."
Quinn reassured him, "The person who taught me to steal was a cripple—he was really good at it."
"How'd he get crippled?" Barrett asked.
Quinn hesitated, then admitted honestly, "I think he got caught stealing and had his leg chopped off."
Barrett sneered, "The moment you said he was crippled, I knew he'd been caught and beaten for thieving. Have you ever stolen anything before?"
Quinn hesitated again, then shook his head. "Not yet."
Barrett gave up all hope, his face darkening. He shoved a map into Quinn's hands. "This is a map of the palace. Keep it... Hopefully you won't need it. We'll play it by ear once we're inside. Maybe I'll find a chance to steal Master Butcher's lower half!"
Loulan Golden Palace's stairway was incredibly long, stretching all the way to the summit. Quinn and Lynn followed Barrett up, glancing around. Along the road stood rows of golden statues—each one bizarre, neither human nor demon, neither god nor monster, combining features of all, shapes strange and grotesque.
Walking this path felt suffocating. Even Lina, who usually loved bickering with the Jadehide Ox, was unusually quiet. Only the ox's heavy footsteps echoed.
Quinn glanced back. The steppe strongmen and barbarian great shamans followed, eyes blazing, silent as they trailed behind.
Ahead, more and more golden palaces appeared, with all sorts of strange figures standing below—some with horns, some with wings, some with beast heads, some with snake tails.
But they weren't monsterfolk. Monsterfolk radiate demon-qi—Lina had it, and the Jadehide Ox's was faint but real.
These strange ones had no demon-qi at all.
Lina and the Jadehide Ox were turning more human, but Loulan Golden Palace's experts seemed to be turning less human.
This was the frontier's unique cultivation philosophy: transforming away from humanity, toward gods and demons—that was the path of the great shaman.
Still, some people kept ordinary human forms. They could freely control their bodies, shifting back and forth at will—their powers were truly masterful.
In front of the palaces were cages packed with ragged people—"materials" for the witch-cult's arts.
Lynn's face darkened with anger. "Those are citizens of my own country!"
Quinn replied woodenly, "Your country also kidnapped people from my Great Ruins and made them slaves."
Lynn trembled and fell silent.
"Young master, they're not just using people—monsterfolk have been captured too."
Lina pointed with her mouth, and Quinn saw that some cages held monsters.
Barrett explained, "The witch-cult uses a unique art that refines souls to reshape the body—absorb a bird's soul, grow wings or a bird's head; absorb a goat's soul, become more goat-like. Those who master the arts become great shamans; those who don't are witch-warlocks, and those who reach the Heaven-Man Realm are Witch Kings. Loulan Golden Palace is the witch-cult's holy land, and its scripture—the Witch-Venerable Golden Palace Canon—is truly extraordinary."