Chapter 573: The Lake Years Later
The battle between the Demon Lord and the White Emperor, whether in terms of realm, strength, status, or position, was worthy of being ranked alongside the three battles from a thousand years ago. Somewhat regrettably, this battle had no audience.
Back then, the battle between Zhou Dufu and Chen Xuanba in the Zhou Garden also had no audience, but afterward, Zhou Dufu had recounted the details of that battle many times, and he had extremely rarely concealed his admiration, explicitly stating that he wanted to publicize Chen Xuanba's greatness.
As for this battle, neither the Demon Lord nor the White Emperor ever spoke of it afterward, so no one knew its details. Even the outcome of the battle remained unknown.
All the world knew was that after that day, a massive pit suddenly appeared on the snowfield north of Cold Mountain. This pit in the snowfield was about thirty zhang deep and over ten li in circumference. Standing at the bottom and looking around, you would still feel as if you were standing on an open plain.
This was the most indelible mark left by the battle, and the most intuitive description of its intensity. The area affected by the battle was even larger. Seventy li north of the snowfield, there had been a cold-resistant forest. Afterward, the demon hunters familiar with the local terrain could no longer find any trace of that forest, and a demon wolf cavalry camp hidden within the forest had also mysteriously vanished.
A world seventy li away had been destroyed, let alone the snowfield at the center of the battlefield. At the bottom of the giant pit, there was no trace of life, only rock that had originally been extremely hard but was now ground to powder. No corpses could be seen either. The snow fox demon beasts that might have lived there, or even smaller creatures, had all disappeared without a trace. Only deep within some gravel could a few traces of blood be seen.
Even more terrifying was the residual heat from the battle at the bottom of the pit, unimaginably scorching, emitting wisps of green smoke, as if a star had once fallen there. Such a scorching pit bottom naturally could not accumulate snow. The snow melted into water, gradually forming streams, then creeks, then a lake. As the wind and snow continued, the water surface kept rising, and it remained so for many years afterward. Thus, on the snowfield north of Cold Mountain, a green lake appeared that never froze throughout the year, much like the Heavenly Lake at the peak of Cold Mountain.
Of course, all of this happened many years later. As for that time, no one knew that a pit had suddenly appeared on the snowfield north of Cold Mountain, which would become a lake in a few years. Even fewer knew that it was because a battle had occurred there, and naturally, no one knew the outcome of that battle.
This battle had only three spectators.
After the battle ended, two of them emerged from the wind and snow.
Walking in front was a middle-aged Daoist, who looked very ordinary. Walking behind was a young man, who was very unordinary. He was lame, with a crutch under his armpit, and his black hair hung over his eyes, covering half his face. They were none other than the Daoist Ji, who had disappeared from Xining Town without a trace, and... Yu Ren.
The White Emperor looked at the Daoist Ji and slowly nodded.
The Daoist Ji leaned forward slightly and returned the gesture.
The White Emperor glanced at Yu Ren, then turned and disappeared into the wind and snow.
The Daoist Ji looked northward, gazed quietly for a while, then led Yu Ren away into another direction of the wind and snow.
From beginning to end, no one spoke.
Hundreds of li to the north, on the snowfield, the black-robed figure put away the somewhat tattered iron plate and looked southward.
The snow wind howled, lifting a corner of his hood, revealing the lower half of his face.
His face was expressionless, paired with a faintly green skin, making him look especially eerie and terrifying. Yet, even though only a small part of his face was visible, even just the jaw and mouth, it still struck one as beautiful. For an eerie face to evoke a sense of beauty, how beautiful must the face itself be?
Shortly after the Daoist Ji and Yu Ren disappeared into the wind and snow, he pulled his hood down and turned northward into the wind and snow.
Before he could approach Snow Old City, he was stopped on the snowfield by a massive shadow.
It was an extremely tall Inverted Mountain Tusker.
This beast, known for its violent temper and terrifying strength, was now unusually docile because it was merely a mount.
A cold, violent voice rang out from among the Inverted Mountain Tusker's coiled tusks.
"It seems this Marshal is still a bit late."
The Demon Marshal sat among the coiled tusks, propping up his chin, looking coldly down at the black-robed figure below.
His armor was covered with gold threads and green rust, glaringly conspicuous.
His voice was especially cold and harsh, like metal scraping, particularly grating.
The black-robed figure ignored this second-strongest of the demon race, lowered his head, and silently prepared to walk past.
The Demon Marshal's voice turned furious, screeching, "You, as the strategist, failed to dissuade His Majesty. What crime do you deserve!"
The black-robed figure's voice was very indifferent and bland: "His Majesty has returned safely. Why should you and I trouble ourselves?"
The Demon Marshal grew even angrier, shouting loudly, "His Majesty is severely wounded, and you dare to say I am troubling myself over nothing?"
Hearing this, the black-robed figure finally stopped, looked up at the mountain-like Inverted Mountain Tusker above, and said with a slightly cold voice, "You dare to probe His Majesty's injuries from me? If His Majesty finds out, you will die very ugly."
The Demon Marshal snorted coldly and said, "Do you think His Majesty will still trust you as before?"
The black-robed figure said calmly, "His Majesty has trusted me for several hundred years, and He will trust me for even longer."
The Demon Marshal screeched, "If His Majesty is truly severely wounded, who do you think can protect your life? Don't forget, how many ministers have you executed in Snow Old City over the years, and how many elders have you offended! And even though you have rendered great service to our divine race, you are ultimately still a human!"
The black-robed figure ignored him and continued walking into the wind and snow.
No one knew about this conversation in the wind and snow, and even if they did, it would seem ordinary. To the demon soldiers, the discord between the strategist and the Demon Marshal was a common occurrence.
However, if one examined it closely, one could actually find that this conversation concealed many meanings, far from ordinary.
...
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The Demon Lord had reappeared in the world after a thousand years, causing turmoil and tension across the continent. Cold Mountain, as the origin of all events, was especially so.
The Heavenly Stone Formation had been forcibly broken by the Demon Lord, and thousands of Heavenly Stones had returned to their respective positions, filling the empty spaces in the meadows, cliffs, and lake. The wounded were carried to the peak for treatment, the dead were sent back to their hometowns, and the collapsed mountain paths and cliffs began to be repaired. However, the changed atmosphere could not return to its former tranquility. The stewards of the Heavenly Mechanism Pavilion and the cultivators attending the Stone-Boiling Assembly all looked tense.
Until now, not many people knew exactly what had happened in the past few days, or why the world's top experts had rushed to Cold Mountain. The truth remained shrouded in mist, but people could sense that something major had occurred, due to the tight security and the oppressive atmosphere emanating from the small buildings by the lake.
The King of Linghai and Mao Qiuyu, who had initially been denied entry to Cold Mountain by the Heavenly Mechanism Pavilion, were now at the peak, standing outside a small building, their expressions unusually grim.
There were over a dozen small buildings by the lake, arranged for the cultivators attending the Stone-Boiling Assembly. This particular building had the best location, facing the lake and backed by the mountain, exceptionally quiet, with the finest view. But clearly, this did nothing to improve the mood of Mao Qiuyu and the King of Linghai.
Because Chen Changsheng was currently unconscious inside that small building.
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(Another chapter at 8 PM)