Remains of a Ten-Thousand-Year Master

But if this skeleton were brought into the Great Thousand World, it would become a supreme treasure, a supreme material—enough to shake even a Creator. Even figures like Hong Yi and Meng Shenji would not object to adding an additional combat force as powerful as a Wild God to their magical treasures. This was a slab of stone, neither gold nor iron, yet incomparably sturdy. Several lines had been written upon it with a finger: "I gambled victory with Wu Xueji and sought to traverse the River of Time to reach Origin Land. Yet the power of time has eroded my consciousness, and I am about to perish. I leave these words in hopes that those who come after may see them. If anyone sees these words, I hope you will fulfill my wish: seek out Wu Xueji's traces in Origin Land. If he still lives, then I have lost. If he too has died, then neither of us has won or lost. Whoever fulfills this wish may dispose of my remains as they please..." Hong Yi's Hall of All Saints traveled ceaselessly through it, sailing toward the depths of the River of Time, toward Origin Land—the final destination of the mysterious Yang God, the Sage Emperors, and the philosophers. "Yin-Yang Corpse Demon, Primordial Hour White Bones! Rise!" The remains beneath Young Marshal's feet had clearly belonged to an exceptionally tall humanoid, immensely broad and powerful in build. Its bones were thick, their substance speckled with points of light and radiating inexhaustible strength, though they had clearly lost their own consciousness. "Wu Xueji? He was a leader of Central World from ten thousand years ago, according to legend. It was said that he fought the Lord of Sky Lion Star in a wager for victory, then vanished without return. It