Primordial Era: Starting by overwhelming the Sages, Hongjun was stunned!

Kong Xuan remained silent.

He raised his hand, and golden light surged from his palm, spreading like water across the clouds.

Where the golden light passed, the black lines were illuminated, slightly curled up, but did not dissipate.

They stopped spreading in the golden light, but they did not retreat.

Like threads that have been pressed down, they are waiting for the moment when the golden light moves away.

The golden-winged roc gripped its feathered blade, staring at the black lines: "These things can't be killed?"

"It can't be killed," Kong Xuandao said. "It has no physical form. These lines are its extensions; they will regenerate even if severed."

"What should we do then?"

Kong Xuan stared at the black lines obscured by the golden light and remained silent for a moment.

Then he released his hand, and the golden light subsided slightly, revealing a gap.

The black lines immediately surged toward the crevice, like a swarm of snakes smelling blood and flesh.

But they surged halfway before suddenly stopping.

Because in front of the gap, golden threads were rising from beneath the clouds.

Thin yet resilient, like an extension of tree roots.

Those are the roots of that tree.

They surged out from the depths of the clouds, one by one, intertwining with those black lines.

The golden light and the black light intertwined, like two different rivers colliding at their confluence.

The edge of the shadowy figure twitched: "It's trying to take my space."

Kong Xuandao: "It's growing."

The shadowy figure paused for a moment, then slowly retreated.

The black section receded back to the edge of the crack, and the black lines also retreated like the tide, shrinking back into the white light.

But traces were left on the cloud wisps.

Where the gold and black threads intertwined, a fine pattern was left behind.

Like scars on the earth.

The dark figure retreated into the depths of the white light, its voice becoming ethereal: "I will come again."

"I will come again when it bears another fruit."

The shadow disappeared, and the crack returned to normal.

A breeze blew by, stirring the golden fruit, which swayed gently on the branch, unharmed.

The Golden-Winged Roc dispersed its feather blades, walked to the tree, and looked down at the golden roots.

They surged out from under the clouds, tangled with the black threads, and instead of retreating, they remained there.

Like a barrier.

A living barrier.

"Brother, this tree is harder than we thought."

"It keeps growing, not upwards, but downwards."

"Plant your roots into the crack, where the shadows can't reach."

Kong Xuan squatted down and pressed his palm against the cloud.

The golden roots trembled slightly beneath his palm, like a heartbeat.

At that moment, he sensed how far the roots had spread.

They had already crossed the rift and spread out hundreds of feet into the soil of that other world.

They are intricately connected and intertwined.

Like a wall that grows underground.

Kong Xuan withdrew his hand and stood up.

"From now on, it will protect us."

"How much it blocks depends on how thick it can grow on its own."

The golden-winged roc stood under the tree, looking up at the fruit.

The milky white light has completely faded, and the entire fruit is golden, with a warm glow flowing across its surface.

It's perfectly ripe.

He reached out and gently picked the fruit.

When the fruit fell into his palm, it carried a heavy warmth, like a newly hatched chick.

The golden-winged roc held the fruit, looked down at it for a while, and then turned around and handed it to Kong Xuan.

"Big brother, here you go."

Kong Xuan took the fruit.

The fruit lay quietly in his palm, its golden veins flowing like a river.

It was warm to the touch, and throbbed slightly, like a heart.

He looked down at it for a long time.

Then tuck it into your sleeve and place it next to the leaves, stems, and petals.

The tiny things in the sleeves touched the fruit and paused for a moment, as if greeting a new companion.

Kong Xuan raised his head and looked at the white light.

"It will come again."

The Golden-Winged Roc stood beside him: "I know."

"But we have trees, we have nets, we have you, we have me."

Kong Xuan remained silent.

The wind rushed in from the other side of the crevice, carrying the fragrance of flowers from the mountaintop.

The flower blooms over there, and the fruit is in his sleeve.

Kong Xuan stood with his hands behind his back, his black robe billowing.

The sapling behind him has grown into a small tree with straight branches and graceful leaves.

Those golden roots spread quietly beneath the clouds, growing deeper and deeper.

Kong Xuan gazed ahead, calm and composed.

He knew the road ahead was long.

The dark figure was still lingering outside the door, and the crack would continue to widen.

But he also knew that he was no longer alone.

Trees are growing, roots are spreading, and fruit is being harvested.

Someone stood beside him, like a mountain.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

Then he opened his mouth, his voice very soft, as if he were talking to himself.

"Then let's keep guarding it."

At the same time that Kong Xuan sensed the snowflake, the Golden-Winged Roc also awoke.

He sat up abruptly, his gaze falling on Kong Xuan's palm: "What is it now?"

"North."

"There's something in the snow."

The golden-winged roc walked over and looked down at the snowflake.

The snow has melted, but that faint scent still lingers... cold and dry, like the wind blowing across frozen earth in the depths of winter.

"It's not the aura of a shadowy figure."

"Yes. It's a different kind."

Kong Xuan flicked the melted snow water from his fingertips, stood up, and looked north.

The white light still shone brightly in the sky.

But on the distant horizon, a very thin layer of gray is slowly spreading.

That gray was different from the dark red of last time, and also different from the inky black of the shadow... It was lighter, closer to the original color of the world, but it was indeed spreading.

"I'll go there."

The Golden-Winged Roc stood up and said, "I'll go with you."

"You stay here."

"Look at the tree, look at the crack."

The Golden-Winged Roc stopped in its tracks.

He glanced at Kong Xuan, then at the sapling, and finally uttered only one word: "Okay."

Kong Xuan took to the air and flew north.

The clouds churned beneath my feet, and the wind howled like drums.

He didn't fly fast, but every step he took covered hundreds of miles of mountains and rivers.

The earth swept past beneath my feet, turning from green to withered yellow, and from withered yellow to grayish white.

The further north you go, the darker the sky becomes.

The clouds hung low, leaden gray, like a solid iron plate suspended overhead.

The wind was freezing, and it felt like a fine knife scraping against my face.

The dry chill in the air grew stronger, as if something was slowly drawing moisture away from this world.

Kong Xuan landed on the edge of the northern wilderness.

The sight before him made him stop in his tracks... snow.

Snow covered the mountains and fields.

It wasn't ordinary winter snow; it was the kind that blanketed everything.

White that devours all other colors.

The mountains were white, the ground was white, and even the sky was reflected white by the snow.

But it's summer now.

Kong Xuan squatted down and reached into the snow.

The snow was deep, up to his forearm.

It feels cool and dry to the touch, like frozen soil that has been there for thousands of years.

Beneath the snow layer, the soil was as hard as iron, devoid of any life.

He stood up and looked around.

On the snow, there was an extremely long drag mark that stretched from deep in the north all the way to his feet.

The drag marks were wide, as if something huge had been dragged along.

The drag marks had smooth edges, unlike the claw marks of wild animals. They looked more like marks left by something extremely hot.

Kong Xuan walked north along the drag marks.

After traveling about a hundred miles, the drag marks disappeared in front of a mountain hollow.

The mountain valley was mostly filled with snow, leaving only a section of black rock face exposed.

There was a crack in the rock face, so narrow that you could only pass through sideways.

There were dark red marks at the edge of the crack.

It's already dried, but the color is still fresh.

Kong Xuan stepped sideways into the crevice.

It's colder inside the crack than outside.

The cold wasn't the kind of cold that comes from the air temperature; it was a chill that seeped up from the ground.

It felt like I'd touched something I shouldn't have.

After Kong Xuan had been gone for about the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, the crack suddenly widened.

He stopped.

Before us was an underground cave, not large, only about ten feet in circumference.

The cave walls were smooth as mirrors, with a dark luster, as if they had been repeatedly polished by something.

Countless slender icicles hung from the cave ceiling, transparent as crystal, with water dripping from their tips.

Water droplets fell to the ground, making a very soft sound.

On the ground in the center of the cave, there is a skeleton.

The skeleton was so large that Kong Xuan had to tilt his head back to see the whole thing.

The bones are dark gray with fine cracks all over the surface, like a piece of porcelain that has been fired and then cooled.

The ribs were broken, several vertebrae were snapped in the middle, and the skull rolled to one side.

Facing the cave entrance, the empty eye sockets seemed to be looking back at the way they came.

Kong Xuan squatted down and carefully examined the edges of the broken bone.

The break is clean and smooth; it wasn't bitten off, but cut off.

One clean and swift cut.

He looked at the skull again. There was a dent in the forehead of the skull, as if it had been struck heavily by something.

The dent is surrounded by fine, radial cracks; a single blow is fatal.

Inside the skeleton's abdomen, a dark red mass was curled up.

Kong Xuan reached out and gently parted it... It was a broken corner.

The horn is dark gray with spiral patterns on the surface, and a thin membrane remains at the base.

The broken edges are jagged, indicating that it wasn't cut off but rather broken off by force.

Kong Xuan held the broken horn in his hand, examined it carefully for a moment, and then put it into his sleeve.

He stood up and scanned the cave walls with his eyes.

On the west corner of the wall, a small patch of a different color peeks out from under the snow.

He walked over and kicked away the loose snow with the tip of his boot.

Beneath the snow was a piece of grayish-white cloth, rough in texture, with torn edges and dried, blackened stains.

A corner of the pattern can be faintly seen on the fabric.

It is a coiled snake with its tail curled into a loop and its mouth containing its own tail.

Kong Xuan looked at the pattern, remained silent for a while, and then put the fabric away.

He looked around the cave to make sure he hadn't missed anything, then turned and walked out of the crevice.

When we returned to the ground, it was darker than when we arrived.

The leaden-gray clouds pressed down even lower, and the wind picked up.

The drag mark was still there on the snow, but the edges were now covered with a thin layer of snow.

It won't be long before it's completely buried.

Kong Xuan did not follow the direction of the drag marks, nor did he search for any traces of the skeleton before its death.

He stood in the middle of the snow, hands behind his back, for a moment, the wind blowing his dark robe.

Then he turned around and stepped into the air, heading south to return.

When they returned to the crack, it was nearly dusk.

The Golden-Winged Roc was still standing under the tree. Seeing him return, it looked him up and down and asked, "What is it?"

"Something died to the north. Someone killed it before it."

The Golden-Winged Roc frowned: "What is that?"

Kong Xuan took out the broken corner and handed it over.

The Golden-Winged Roc took it and examined it: "It resembles the horn of a dragon, but it's much thicker than a dragon's horn, and it's quite old."

"After that thing was killed, it was dragged for a while and then into an underground cave."

The cave walls were smooth, as if they had been polished by something.

"There's also a piece of cloth in the cave, with snake patterns on it."

The Golden-Winged Roc returned the broken horn to Kong Xuan: "Snake patterns? What kind of snake?"

"The one-tailed one."

The Golden-Winged Roc was silent for a moment: "The Ouroboros... that's the totem of an ancient tribe near Mount Buzhou."

"I saw them using it when I passed by last time."

"However, that tribe is almost deserted, with only a few old people left."

"That piece of fabric was grayish-white."

"That makes even more sense."

The people of that tribe all wore grey and white linen clothes, saying it was to remind themselves not to forget that humanity and the universe are connected, that it begins and ends somewhere.

After the Golden-Winged Roc finished speaking, he looked at Kong Xuan and asked, "You think that dark figure went around to the north?"

Kong Xuan shook his head: "The aura is different. The shadowy figure's aura is decaying, like the chilling air from a dry well."

"The lingering scent in that cave to the north is different... it's dry, empty, like something has sucked all the life out of the cave."

"It's more like the palace I saw before, underground in the desert to the west."

The Golden-Winged Roc was silent for a moment: "Then tell me, is the snow drifting in from the other side of the crevice the same thing as the death of that thing in the north?"

Kong Xuan did not answer immediately.

He walked to the sapling and looked down at the newly sprouted buds on its branches.

The buds were small, pale green, and the edges didn't yet have any golden markings; they looked like they had just sprouted.

"The snow came from the other side of the crack."

The lingering scent of the shadowy figure, mingled with the snow, drifted through the doorway.

"That thing to the north was killed here in the primordial world."

"They are not the same thing, but they might be connected by the same road."

The crack was widening, and the shadowy figure was groping for another entrance. Perhaps the thing to the north, when it was alive, had encountered that path.

The Golden-Winged Roc listened quietly, then asked, "So what do we do?"

"wait."

"Wait for the snow to fall again, wait for the wind to blow again, wait for the scent from over there to seep in again."

"I'll wait until it shows its face, then I'll follow it."

The Golden-Winged Roc did not ask any further questions.

He sat cross-legged under the tree, closed his eyes, as if gathering his strength.

Kong Xuan stood before the crack, gazing at the northern horizon.

The thin layer of gray was dissipating, but the traces it left behind still lingered in his senses... like a plucked string, the lingering sound not yet gone.

He knew that the death of that thing to the north was just the beginning.

The hand was still hidden in the shadows.

Perhaps it has already waited for its moment.

The night wind rushed out from the crack, stirring Kong Xuan's robes. He reached into his sleeve, his fingertips touching the surface of the severed corner. The touch was icy cold, like northern snow.

After a moment of silence, he gently grasped the broken corner and put it back in place.

"It's almost dawn."

"I'll go take a look to the north."

"And you?"

"I'll wait for you to come back."

Kong Xuan flew northward through the air, his black robe blending into the night, like a silent shadow streaking across the sky.

The mountains and rivers beneath our feet receded, and the grass and trees turned from green to yellow, and then from yellow to gray.

The further north you go, the drier the wind becomes and the thinner the air gets.

The gray tinge had not yet dissipated, still lingering on the horizon like a layer of ink that had not been washed away.

Kong Xuan flew for half a day before landing on a frozen plain.