Imperial Cultivation Chapter 1196 - 1192: Entering the Abyss
Previously on Imperial Cultivation...
Back in his small courtyard, Chu Zhiyuan crossed his legs on the couch, reviewing his recent gains.
The rewards proved utterly bountiful.
Those six statues had vastly upgraded the Golden Sword, endowing it with a fully spiritual essence.
This essence resembled a young child's—innate yet immature, offering no current utility but overflowing with limitless potential.
His sensation mirrored beholding a newborn; it brought no immediate benefit now, yet brimmed with boundless prospects.
His current task lay in ongoing refinement, deepening the bond with it further.
Stronger intimacy allowed greater insight into its breath flow, unleashing its utmost power fully.
Though not rivaling the Emperor’s Sword or Heavenly Sword in might, it already emanated exceptional aura and strength.
Apart from the Golden Sword, Merit had accumulated notably.
Merit’s golden radiance shone ever brighter inside the Demon Suppression Divine Palace.
With mounting Merit golden light, its density in the Demon Suppression Divine Palace thickened substantially.
The Demon Suppressing Divine Tree experienced faint transformations.
He missed this earlier since the Merit light remained too weak for significant effect.
Now, he noted the Demon Suppressing Divine Tree growing more solid, its aura intensifying.
Merit’s miraculous benefits surprised him; he’d long seen the Demon Suppressing Divine Tree as an unchanging sacred item.
He now comprehended that it thrived on Merit.
It dawned on him abruptly: no surprise it absorbed and retained Merit light.
Refining the Golden Sword, he mulled if Merit—beyond awakening the ancestral acupoint and bolstering the Demon Suppressing Divine Tree—might also empower the Golden Sword.
Popular unity echoed Merit in some ways; could a link exist?
He tested it out, then shook his head.
Merit’s core truths and the essence of public unity eluded his grasp.
Deeper insight demanded time; haste availed nothing.
…
Come morning, he swung open the door and stepped from the courtyard, cupping fists: “Dean.”
Gu Junqi waited outside the courtyard, expression somber: “Are you truly heading out?”
Chu Zhiyuan replied, “Dean, rest assured, I’ll move with caution.”
Gu Junqi furrowed his brow: “The Court never sends us the easy tasks.”
Chu Zhiyuan nodded.
Gu Junqi spoke truth.
The Court shunned giving good assignments to the Four Great Sects; only grueling, filthy jobs came their way.
Gu Junqi advised, “When you go, avoid rashness; value your life. Your prospects shine bright—keep Nephew Li and the Sect Leader in mind.”
Chu Zhiyuan grinned: “Dean, don’t worry; I treasure my life immensely.”
Gu Junqi nodded deliberately: “Be on your way.”
Chu Zhiyuan saluted with fists and departed steadily, escorted to the gate by Gu Junqi himself.
Gu Junqi’s deep worry showed, dreading his plunge into the Evil Suppressing Abyss.
Chu Zhiyuan felt little concern, however.
No danger prickled this time, signaling safety ahead.
Reaching the Evil Extermination Department, Huang Zhengyang awaited in the front hall.
The pair, flanked by eight elite guards, set off northward.
…
At twilight, with sunset’s final glows fading, Chu Zhiyuan and Huang Zhengyang perched at the cliff’s brink.
Below sprawled a vast sea, its emerald waves shimmering endlessly.
Green swells pounded the cliff face, hurling up misty sprays.
Chu Zhiyuan scanned about, seeking the Evil Suppressing Abyss’s site.
Yet emptiness reigned; no anomalies stirred within a hundred miles.
Huang Zhengyang drew a token from his robes, face grave.
Chu Zhiyuan examined the token.
A shining silver plaque bore faint images of a bizarre beast leaping on either side.
Super Sense Illumination revealed nothing odd; it seemed mere ordinary silver.
Huang Zhengyang intoned gravely, “This Yuan Suppressing Order unveils the entrance—only its bearer can do so.”
Chu Zhiyuan queried, “Does the plaque alone suffice to open it?”
Huang Zhengyang lifted the silver plaque, voice deep: “It demands the unique mental technique to activate.”
Eyes shut, he focused inward, channeling power; the plaque in his grip began to glow softly.
Gentle radiance seeped from the plaque, like fresh springs bubbling clear waters.
The mild glow coalesced, intensifying steadily into a dazzling orb.
The orb blazed fiercely, too bright for direct gaze.
“Go!”
Huang Zhengyang bellowed suddenly.
Light erupted wildly, then faded.
White brilliance streaked outward, hurtling toward the far sea.
Far off, a dark void yawned upon the waves, plunging into fathomless depths.
“Let’s move,” Huang Zhengyang called.
He vaulted from the cliff, soaring slantwise toward the sea.
Chu Zhiyuan trailed right after.
They soared together toward the void, wafted like leaves on wind.
The eight masters lingered on the cliff, observing without pursuit.
Mid-flight, Chu Zhiyuan asked: “Brother Huang, does this spot remain constant?”
Huang Zhengyang answered: “Last visit placed it elsewhere, shifted by three or four miles.”
“Secret Land? Or Grotto Heaven?”
“A Secret Land,” Huang Zhengyang confirmed. “One of the world’s rare death traps.”
Chu Zhiyuan peered via Insight, discerning only the void’s rim, blind to its depths.
They descended smoothly, touching the void’s mouth without sea contact.
Huang Zhengyang plunged in without pause; Chu Zhiyuan followed suit.
Vision flared abruptly.
He perched on a mountaintop amid several others.
A serene chasm nestled between peaks, filled with jade-green depths beyond measure.
Peaks seemed to thrust from an infinite watery expanse.
He and Huang Zhengyang occupied one summit, overlooking the verdant depths.
Super Sensing Illumination showed peaks endless across a hundred miles, laced with bottomless emerald waters.
His face grew stern, brow creased as he eyed neighboring summits.
Golden-lit statues towered ten meters on each peak.
At first sight, Evil Venerables’ effigies.
Bodies human-like, heads grotesquely varied.
Some bore two heads, others three; some one eye, some three.
Huang Zhengyang declared, “Come, we meet the venerables.”
Chu Zhiyuan assented.
A hundred meters off, another peak hosted a terraced courtyard carved into rock.
They drifted over, landing before a courtyard.
He rapped lightly, voice deferent: “Elder Guan, it’s Xiaohuang.”
“Nobody home!”
A gruff reply echoed from within.
“Elder Guan, I’ve come calling,” Huang Zhengyang said brightly, “with fine brew in tow.”
From his sleeve emerged a wine jar.
A dark jar holding roughly ten liters.
He jovially rattled it.
“Bang!” The gate flew open.
Huang Zhengyang bore the jar inside, Chu Zhiyuan at his heels.
The yard proved plain, east a veggie patch, west flowers, a well central.
A white-haired, bearded elder hoed the veggies, clad in rough hemp like a peasant.
Yet Chu Zhiyuan sensed Nine Transitions Perfection, Spiritual Energy veiled.
A true powerhouse.
Huang Zhengyang set the jar on the wellside table, grinning: “Elder Guan, prime Feiling Spirit Brew.”
The elder kept hoeing, huffing: “Your visits spell trouble!”
Huang Zhengyang noted, “Bearing ill tidings for Elder Guan.”
The elder hoed on: “Good or bad, spares me not.”
“About the Undying Evil Venerable,” Huang Zhengyang smiled.
The elder halted, glanced up at them, then resumed hoeing.
Huang Zhengyang pressed: “The Undying Evil Venerable stirs once more, Elder Guan!”
“Let it stir; inevitable eventually,” the elder hoed steadily.
Huang Zhengyang added: “Yet we felled one Undying Evil Venerable, smashed its statues!”
“Heh,” the elder scoffed coldly, hoe unrelenting.
Huang Zhengyang gestured: “Heavenly Sword Sect prodigy Chu Zhiyuan shattered the Undying Evil Venerable’s statue—and slew one!”
The elder swiveled to eye Chu Zhiyuan.
Chu Zhiyuan cupped fists: “Junior Chu Zhiyuan of Heavenly Sword Sect greets Elder Guan.”
Elder’s gaze flashed like lightning, chill: “You truly demolished the Undying Evil Venerable’s statue?”
Chu Zhiyuan affirmed: “Yes.”
The elder’s lips thinned: “Prove it—seeing beats telling.”
Chu Zhiyuan paused, unmoving.
Huang Zhengyang shot him a puzzled look.