Chapter 893 The Imperial Casket of Existence
Outside the circular palatial building, the severed hand sauntered around like a tourist on a sightseeing tour. Every now and then, it would pause to take a look at Wang Yanyi like a curious little cat.
Wang Yanyi sat on the steps outside the building, cradling his rusty sword while he languished in bewilderment.
What was going on inside the sarcophagus right now, he could not tell.
He had never felt so worthless and helpless before since he received this sword in his dreams. Vivid images of his recollections wheezed by like imprints etched on his mind that he would never forget. Even with the passage of Time, these memories were just able to withstand the decay of time.
Then he heard the patter of footsteps.
Wang Yanyi instinctively jerked his head up and what his vision registered left him gaping with shock.
He rose up immediately, maintaining full vigilance. “H-How?! How in Heaven’s name are you here?!”
Standing before him.
With dark emerald green hair that flows down her back and exquisite but no less coquettish looks that could make any man swoon, the irresistible woman’s lips curled into a wry and enchanting smile, “Why can’t I be here?”
Bi Yan, the Green Fox God.
Wang Yanyi did not think that of all places, he would encounter this woman here.
And she was hardly alone. Behind here were seven champions of the devil races, each of them unfamiliar to Wang Yanyi and all of them exuding powerful and formidable auras. Clad in garb that would make them seem like ordinary people on Earth, the champions—young and old, male and female—were at least the Upper King Realm. No one could ever mistake them as weak commoners with their air and presence.
“How did you make it here?” Wang Yanyi breathed, his eyes squinting warily as he channeled his powers to remain on guard.
Bi Yan beamed broadly at him like a blossoming rose. “Just like how you did.”
Before Wang Yanyi could respond, she waved at the severed hand like a friend.
And so it was! The severed hand hopped towards her like a pet happy to see its master. Bounding and leaping around her with jubilant exuberance, the hand shrunk even smaller–no bigger than the size of an ordinary hand—where it clambered up to Bi Yan’s shoulder and snuggled close to her neck.
Thinking that they must have fallen into her trap, Wang Yanyi wheeled around at once and sped back inside the hall.
The rusty sword tremored once more in his grasp.
His entire self emanated fury with every step he took.
Bi Yan did nothing to give chase. Instead, she called from behind, “Don’t worry about Li Mu! There’s no need for me to harm him!”
Wang Yanyi nearly skidded to a halt, but he swiftly resumed his pace and dashed towards the nine-dragon throne. Ripping his sword out of its sheath, he slashed it at the chair without mercy.
“But if you wish for that mausoleum below to be Li Mu’s final resting place, then be my guest. By all means, wreak all the damage you want,” she said nonchalantly.
The sword-like magical bolts that Wang Yanyi just conjured dissipated into nothingness.
Wang Yanyi stayed his hand from reducing the throne into bits.
His arms throbbed painfully. Holding back the blow had caused a backlash resulting in terrible cramps on his arm.
He withdrew his powers and recollected himself before returning his sword back into its sheath. Then he turned back and marched back to the entrance of the building. Sternly, he said to Bi Yan. “That better be the truth, or I’ll never forgive you. Remember, I know who and what you rely on, but you’d do well to bear in mind that the entities that I can rely on as well are well beyond your comprehension.”
“Heh, look at how nasty you look when you’re angry,” Bi Yan commented, totally unfazed as she cracked into a facetious simper. “At any rate, there’s no reason for any animosity between us at the moment, regardless of where my loyalties lie. For what it’s worth, you can well believe in this: none of us wish for Li Mu to die.”
Wang Yanyi threw a venomous glare at the severed hand before clutching his sword tightly to his chest, standing at the threshold of the entrance like he was barring anyone from entering.
Bi Yan waved a hand lazily.
The seven champions vanished into thin air as if they had already received orders beforehand to carry out some clandestine mission.
Bi Yan approached, rising up the steps gracefully and coming face to face with Wang Yanyi.
The rusty sword escaped its scabbard with the speed and intensity of a lightning bolt and shot up, its tip aimed straight at Bi Yan’s forehead.
Unperturbed, the Green Fox God took one relenting step backward and shrugged. “I told you, I bear you no ill will. Besides, aren’t you curious about what secrets that sarcophagus actually holds?”
Wang Yanyi’s expression betrayed what looked like a suppressed frown.
Bi Yan chuckled at that and went on, “That sarcophagus is called the Imperial Casket of Existence. Anyone who lies inside would experience one cycle of rebirth. I guess Li Mu should be on his way already by now.”
Wang Yanyi’s eyes shot wide and his gaze turned into a vicious glare.
“Relax, lassie,” Bi Yan grinned. “Haven’t you heard? A day in Heaven is like a year in the Mortal World. Li Mu’s entire lifetime inside the Imperial Casket will take days before he rebirths. So, be patient. No fretting, all right?”
“How does experiencing rebirth cure him?” Wang Yanyi broke “his” silence.
“Do you know why did Li Mu manage to survive until here when all others had died the moment they plunged into the waters of the Sea of Godly Demise?” Bi Yan responded with a question of her own.
Wang Yanyi shook “his” head.
Bi Yan spun on her heels and strode towards the granite pillars that held up the arches of the entrance and caressed them like she was feeling how lonely they have been here for so long. A silent beat of gravity passed between them before she turned back to face Wang Yanyi, saying, “Because he isn’t a god.”
Wang Yanyi stared at her, unamused at the ambiguous answer.
“The Liquid of Godly Demise was created to kill gods. Any god who falls inside will instantly die, but the poison doesn’t work on ordinary humans. As a Cultivator of arcane magic and immortality, Li Mu has a foot on the threshold. That means he’s not fully a god, but no longer an ordinary human either. That is why he could be harmed by the poison of the Liquid but it didn’t kill him instantly. At least not yet.”
“And I’m supposed to believe that?”
Wang Yanyi’s expression stirred with skepticism.
“The Liquid is not just liquid. It’s liquid given a life of its own. It will kill any targets upon whom it detects any trace of godhood. But if its target is detected as being dead, then it will leave its host’s body.”
Strangely, the more “he” listened, the more Wang Yanyi felt that it all made sense.
As long as Li Mu experienced a cycle of rebirth inside the Imperial Casket, the Liquid would register him as being dead at one point and that would prompt what residue of the Liquid inside Li Mu to leave him. By the time the process of his rebirth was complete and his soul has been restored, everything would be back to normal.
It really was a workable solution, at least in theory.
Assuming Bi Yan was telling the truth, Wang Yanyi did not fail to remind “himself” of that.
“Then why is that severed hand of a true god listening to you?” Wang Yanyi asked again, albeit more calmly and more amicable this time.
“That’s easy enough,” Bi Yan giggled. “Who do you think whose hand this originally was?”
Wang Yanyi looked stunned by that remark. Then it dawned upon “him” and for once since “his” appearance, “he” looked utterly flabbergasted. “W-Wait… A-Are you saying… T-That it belongs to the primogenitor of your race?! How?!”
Bi Yan tenderly stroked the miniaturized severed hand now still perched on her shoulder. “How not? You know about my history. I’m sure you knew what happened so many years ago and the events that had befallen my race.”
“Whatever,” Wang Yanyi smirked. “I’ll ascertain the facts myself, thank you very much.”
Bi Yan spread her arms casually and shrugged.
All of a sudden, a flash of light erupted.
It was one of Bi Yan’s seven champions that looked like a young girl barely fourteen or fifteen of age. She had returned and the first thing she did was whisper something into Bi Yan’s ear.
Bi Yan’s attractive face betrayed a hint of surprise.
She patted the severed hand still sitting on her shoulder and said something to it in a hushed tone. The severed hand hopped off and soared into the air and vanished into a dot.
Meanwhile, the petite little girl devil produced a silver-metallic conch horn. She flew up to the topmost tip of a pyramid nearby and held up the conch horn with both her hands and blew hard, although Wang Yanyi could hear nothing at all.
Then she leaped off the pyramid and vanished, keeping herself hidden from plain view.
Bi Yan looked at Wang Yanyi, turning solemn and serious this time. “They’re coming much faster than I anticipated and this time, it’s not just that pre-Emperor Realm fellow Lazulum. Now listen. The process of Li Mu’s rebirth would take at least three days and nights. Any disruption to the process, even if the Liquid has exited his body, would still mean that his soul would not be properly restored.”
Wang Yanyi’s face shifted into that of terror for one split-second before “he” managed to return back to “his” composed and stoic self. “With my sword, I’ll be here. No one shall pass.”
Bi Yan gazed at her long and hard as if she has something she had been meaning to say. “Very well,” she said simply, “Perhaps this time, I might be able to see if those entities that you spoke of are as reliable as you claim.”
Her form slowly turned translucent before fading completely into oblivion.
“What is going on?! Is this time-travel?!”
Li Mu found himself sitting alone inside a bamboo hut. He stared at his own hands as information crammed into his mind. Stupefied with shock and disbelief, he struggled to process what was going on with him.
He could confess to being somewhat of an expert on fictional journeys through time or parallel universes and dimensions from his many readings of stories and novels. In fact, his mentor—the old faker, as he liked to call him—had once sent him on one such journey before, transporting him from Earth to the Heavenly Land. That was an amazing experience, being hurtled through the galaxy, flesh and blood, although he was thankful enough to have survived.
But this time, it was only his soul that was transported and he found himself now a young man fresh in his twenties.
Something about his surroundings felt awkwardly familiar.
He was already a prodigy with indescribable powers back on Earth. How could his soul be transported just like that?!
“This must be somewhere else. This isn’t Earth. My memories are intact. So I’m sure of that,” he told himself aloud.
Li Mu stepped out of the hut.
What greeted him was the lush scenery of bamboo woods that sat by a precipitous cliff. Currents breezed through the bamboo, invoking soft wavy undulations of rustling leaves.
Another lazy gust of wind blew.
“This is not Earth, not the Heavenly Land, not White Earth, and definitely not anywhere within the Ziwei Star Zone!” Everything about the forces of nature here felt different—completely different from everything he felt and sensed from when he was still inside the Ziwei Star Zone.
Here he was, smacked right in the middle of somewhere he knew nothing about.
“This cannot be Earth and nor can this be anywhere within the Ziwei Star Zone!
So where the hell am I?!”
Li Mu was confused and discombobulated.
He could still remember what happened: his injuries were getting worse because of that Liquid of Godly Demise. The poison was killing him. It was Wang Yanyi and the severed hand of a god which had brought him into some underground mausoleum and that was when things began to turn blurry. Parts of the last thing he could recall somehow involved him being lowered into a casket?!
That was when Li Mu smacked his own head.
“Wait! A casket!”
A foreboding dread reared its head as he imagined something frightful and horrendous and it engulfed him whole.
“Am I dead?! Did me inside that Celestial Court die?!
Does that mean I really am dead?!
Is that what triggered the transportation of my soul to this place?!
Is this because of the Xiantian Skill?! Is it so powerful that even though my physical body is dead, my soul is able to survive that I was inadvertently brought here by a stroke of Fate?!
“Am I really dead?!”
Li Mu stood there at the door of the hut, bewildered and dazed while he tried to make sense of what just happened to him.