In Oldridge Village, the most flamboyant had always been Grandpa Blind, who loved to show off his literary flair. But ever since Butcher emerged from his madness and regained his former style, this pig-slaughtering, meat-selling butcher's flamboyance has left Grandpa Blind in the dust.
United as one, although few of High-Emperor Heaven's divine cities survived the impact, the bold singing of Butcher and Quinn Shepherd stirred everyone's hearts. At this moment, the divine arts surrounding them seemed to form an indestructible city.
The First Human Emperor's Heaven-and-Earth Seal became the sky and earth of this city, its walls and ramparts. The other gods and demons reinforced the walls as generals, while Quinn Shepherd and tens of thousands of divine-ability users stood atop the walls as soldiers, repelling the enemy assault.
Their qi and blood were interconnected, their divine powers linked, resisting the terrifying force unleashed by the destruction of heaven and earth.
In an instant, everyone felt an overwhelming pressure. Some had their blood vessels burst, blood streaming down their bodies until they looked like walking corpses; some had muscles torn, skin split open; some had their clothes shredded; some suffered broken bones. Yet no one retreated—even those with both arms broken refused to fall back, relying instead on their Primordial Spirit to continue wielding divine arts.
At last, the most terrifying first wave of impact passed.
Suddenly, the First Human Emperor's legs gave way and he collapsed to his knees, fainting. A dozen arms supported him, preventing him from falling, and gently laid him flat on the ground.
Though there were many gods and divine-ability users present, the First Human Emperor had shouldered over ninety percent of the pressure for their safety. As a powerhouse of the Execution Platform realm, he far surpassed the other gods and demons—even if all were bound together, they could not match his strength.
Quinn Shepherd and Apothecary stepped forward to treat him, while the other gods and demons formed a protective ring to shield against the aftershocks.
At this moment, High-Emperor Heaven resembled a magma hell—lava rain fell from the sky, mixed with black ash and firestones the size of mountains crashing to the ground.
Scorching winds swept past at hundreds of times the speed of sound, turning magma into towering waves that surged forward, engulfing everything in their path.
The trembling earth caused volcanoes to erupt one after another in the magma sea, their fire columns shooting hundreds or even thousands of li into the sky.
The sky had long since shattered—colorful shards of space, thinner than paper, floated and flickered with strange light, some darting by like the sharpest blades, slicing through anything in their way.
Breathable air was nearly depleted. With every breath of foul air, they inhaled countless toxic gases that corroded their lungs. Even holding their breath, the toxins still ate away at their skin.
Aiden Starr opened his chest, took out a handful of seeds, and gently blew on them—instantly, lush grass and shady willows sprang up all around them.
The patch of land six or seven li across that they guarded remained peaceful, one of the few pure lands left in High-Emperor Heaven. Here, the world hadn't turned to magma, so Aiden Starr could use creation divine arts to grow plants and purify the air.
Grandpa Mark gently opened his palm, and the grass, trees, and pure earth floated up, drifting behind his head into the projection of the Twenty Mahayana Heavens, where Buddha-light nourished this lone patch of green.
Pure air radiated out from him, and everyone greedily breathed it in.
"We can't go on like this forever."
Grandpa Mark and the monks combined their Buddha-light to form a huge dome, shielding everyone. He said, "Even with creation divine arts, we can't hold out for many years. Sooner or later, this sky will turn into a black sun, with no light at all. The world's spiritual energy will vanish, our divine arts will degrade, our cultivation will wither away, and eventually we'll all become skeletons here."
Aiden Starr closed his chest and suddenly asked, "Cult Master Quinn, you should be able to rebuild a paired spirit-energy migration bridge, right?"
Quinn Shepherd and Apothecary worked together to stabilize the First Human Emperor's injuries. Hearing this, Quinn looked up and replied, "Impossible. I have enough materials, but the altar in the Great Ruins and the altar here were both destroyed at the same time—overwhelmed by the surge of spiritual energy. Without the Great Ruins altar, I can't build a paired migration bridge."
Aiden Starr frowned, gazing at the shattered sky, and shook his head. "Gods and demons might survive, though they’ll gradually weaken, but divine-ability cultivators can’t. They're all dead weight—abandon them."
There were still tens of thousands of divine-ability cultivators nearby. Hearing this, their hearts turned cold.
Quinn Shepherd straightened up, his gaze falling on Aiden Starr, and said calmly, "I've been to Taeming Heaven—it's just above High-Emperor Heaven, and there's a passage straight to the Great Ruins. Taeming and High-Emperor Heavens have both been breached; we can go from High-Emperor up to Taeming, then down to the Great Ruins. No one has to die."
Aiden Starr said, "But bringing these people will only slow us down. We gods will have to protect them, which will drain us faster in this apocalyptic world. I suggest we travel light."
His eyes swept over the crowd. "Maybe we should kill a batch first—make jerky out of them, so we have something to eat if we get hungry on the road."
Everyone was horrified, not daring to meet his gaze.
Quinn Shepherd smiled faintly. "Aiden Starr, in my eyes, you're dead weight too. If you don't want to be treated that way, then start thinking like a normal person—help out when needed and just do your part. You're not the leader of these survivors, so stop talking like one."
Aiden Starr frowned.
Village Chief coughed lightly, looking unfazed. "Aiden Starr, you must have plenty of jerky in that chest of yours, right?"
Grandpa Blind stroked his Dragon Reaver God-Spear—the black dragon moved under his rough palm like a soft cat, its bones rattling comfortably. Grandpa Blind laughed, "Maybe we should make jerky out of Brother Starr instead. That way we’d have something to eat on the road."
Crippled Joe, unusually bold in this moment, snickered, "Cut off his legs first!"
Aiden Starr replied coolly, "Old Sword God, you're missing limbs—you're no match for me now. I can take all of you at once. Not just you, even if you add Daoist Pang Yu, I wouldn’t be afraid."
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Apothecary asked curiously, "What did you say? Say it again."
Aiden Starr's eye twitched. After a moment, he slowly said, "On the road, I'll do my part."
Quinn Shepherd looked at the First Human Emperor, who was gravely wounded and unable to wake for some time. His body was so heavy that True God Pang Yu would have to carry him forward.
The other divine-ability cultivators could walk across the magma sea, stepping on the molten waves as if traversing the ocean. It wasn’t difficult for them, but the only thing necessary was for the gods present to shield them from the towering magma waves and the terrifying hurricane!
Hurricanes hundreds of times faster than sound could easily sweep any cultivator away, and the wind carried toxic gases and firestones the size of mountains, enough to severely wound or kill them.
So the outer perimeter had to be guarded by gods and demons.
"The undersea volcanoes erupting from time to time... that's a bigger problem."
Quinn Shepherd pondered—there were volcanoes everywhere beneath the magma sea, and each eruption unleashed energy almost equal to a god or demon's strike. The consequences for any cultivator caught in such a blast were unimaginable.
"I'll handle the volcanoes with the Sword God."
Aiden Starr suddenly said, "His swordsmanship, combined with my divine arts, will be enough to suppress the volcanoes."
Quinn Shepherd nodded, assigning everyone their roles. He said in a deep voice, "Everyone, High-Emperor Heaven is destroyed. It's hard to leave our homeland, but survival is what matters most. Maybe one day, we'll return to restore earth, water, wind, and fire. But for now, we have to go!"
Sang Hua knelt and kissed the ground, pressing her cheek against it. One by one, the other High-Emperor Heaven cultivators knelt too—some kissed the earth, others embraced it.
The cultivators from Yankang watched quietly. Patriotism and love for the land—perhaps these are hard to feel in times of peace, but only in moments of crisis do such deep emotions emerge from the heart.
After a while, everyone stood up. The gods took up positions around them, each using powerful magic to stabilize earth, water, wind, and fire. The others walked across the now-calm magma sea, following those ahead.
The magma sea was scorching, and the air unbearably hot. Even Grandpa Mark's Buddha-light couldn't cool it down.
"Seal all your pores and hold onto your body's moisture!"
Quinn Shepherd called out, "Those with flight abilities, don't fly—save your vital energy. The journey is long, and we'll be walking for a long time! Cultivators with higher realms, look after your junior brothers and sisters!"
He walked ahead while Crippled Joe pulled out a compass. It was ancient, with many markings—a treasure, no doubt, but who knew where Crippled Joe had stolen it from? The needle spun wildly, making it impossible to find direction.
Crippled Joe sighed, put the compass away, and looked around. All he saw was magma sea everywhere in High-Emperor Heaven. The only landmark was Luofu Heaven, jutting diagonally from the center.
Daoist Lin Xuan and a group of old Daoists were using the Grand Celestial Astromancy to try to get their bearings. Suddenly, Daoist Cha asked, "But there are no stars in High-Emperor Heaven—how can we orient ourselves?"
Daoist Lin Xuan and the other old Daoists looked stunned and dejected.
Others also tried to find their way, but there were no stars in the sky, and the geomagnetic fields were in chaos. The impact had shattered the geomagnetism of both Luofu Heaven and High-Emperor Heaven, creating countless anomalies—there was no way to navigate.
Among them were many exotic beasts like the dragon qilin and the great deer, who normally relied on geomagnetism to navigate. Now, with the geomagnetic fields in disarray, the beasts were completely disoriented.
"Everyone, don't worry about directions."
Quinn Shepherd took some Buddha-Origin Red Chrome and Feathered Buddha-Mother Tree wood from his gluttonous bag, looked at Grandpa Mark, and smiled. "Grandpa Ma, I need the most skillful carpenter under heaven."
Grandpa Mark smiled and said, "That's me."
Quinn Shepherd turned to Mute and smiled. "Grandpa Mute, I need the most ingenious craftsman!"
Mute grinned, half a tongue sticking out from his mouth. "Ah!"
Quinn Shepherd took out paper and pen, furiously calculating, striving for precision. Soon, he finished the blueprint for a carriage and handed it to Grandpa Mark and Mute. "To build this compass carriage, we need accuracy down to the millisecond. That way, even after traveling hundreds of thousands of miles, it won't lose its way."
Grandpa Mark and Mute studied the blueprint, their expressions serious. After a moment, they said, "We can give it a try!"
The two immediately got to work, perfecting every detail as they forged the compass carriage's parts. After a long time, the carriage was finally finished. On it stood a golden figure made of Buddha-Origin Red Chrome, one arm raised and pointing ahead. Three tiny figures stood on its head, each with a mallet, and in the center was a drum.
Quinn Shepherd looked toward Luofu Heaven, checked the direction, and adjusted the golden figure's arm. Then he called the dragon qilin to pull the carriage in circles. No matter how the dragon qilin turned, the golden figure's arm always pointed the same way.
"Dao Master, I understand the principle of Cult Master Quinn's compass carriage. It uses precise bearings, gears, and wheels to keep the golden figure pointing in one direction."
A young Daoist asked the Dao Master, "But what are the three little figures and the drum on the golden figure's head for?"
Many cultivators from High-Emperor Heaven listened intently. For the past two years, they'd studied mathematics and techniques, often learning from Daoist priests, so they were very curious about Quinn Shepherd's compass carriage.
Daoist Lin Xuan explained, "Those three little figures are for measuring distance. Every hundred li, the gears move one of the figures to strike the drum once. By counting the drumbeats, you can track how far you've traveled."
"Why do you need to measure distance?" Everyone was surprised and asked one after another.
Daoist Lin Xuan replied, "Cult Master Quinn had the craftsman and Grandpa Mark make every part accurate to the millisecond, but even with that precision, there will be tiny deviations. After the carriage travels ten thousand li, the golden figure's arm might be off by a few fractions. I expect Cult Master Quinn will adjust the direction after every ten thousand li, nudging the arm slightly to the right."
Everyone was stunned. Yu He murmured, "Does it really need to be that precise?"
"It does."
Daoist Lin Xuan smiled gently. "A deviation of one fraction every ten thousand li becomes a tenth of a degree over a hundred thousand li, which could mean missing the destination by a hundred li. A hundred li off is no small matter. Cult Master Quinn always strives for perfection—he couldn't stand High-Emperor Heaven's old sun, so he shattered it and had the Grandmaster remake it. That says a lot about his character."
"So he really did smash our sun on purpose!" grumbled True God Pang Yu, still carrying the First Human Emperor.
After about a hundred li, one of the little figures on the golden man's head swung its mallet and struck the drum—producing a clear beat.
Everyone exclaimed in admiration, "Just as expected!"
Daoist Lin Xuan smiled, "That's the beauty of mathematics and mechanics! It may seem useless, but it’s everywhere. If you want to learn techniques more advanced than any academy in Yankang, come study with my Daoist sect!"
Old Monk Jingming glanced at him, thinking, "Daoist Lin Xuan’s picked up bad habits from Cult Master Quinn—now he’s trying to recruit for the Daoist sect. I’ll have to let Grandpa Mark know, so he doesn’t lose disciples to them."
After traveling ten thousand li, the little figure had struck the drum a hundred times. Quinn Shepherd stopped, opened the golden figure’s belly, carefully adjusted the gears by a fraction, then continued onward.
Everyone’s respect for Daoist Lin Xuan grew even deeper.
— Four thousand words in this chapter! Last day of April, please vote for me!