Responding to the Tribulation

The salty, fishy sea breeze was now laced with a more intense scent of rust and gunpowder, pouring into Cen Qing's lungs.

She stood atop the crest of a surging wave, her slender body taut like an arrow ready to be loosed from the string.

Behind her were the last remaining combat-ready forces of the Shark People. Hundreds of warriors gripped tridents forged from Water Soul Essence and Millennial Cold Iron, their deep blue pupils reflecting the towering Langya Terrace in the distance—a place that bore the weight of an emperor's delusional dream of immortality, and buried the endless wails of her kin.

In the Mount Li Mausoleum, every flicker of the Eternal Lamp had once been the blood-weeping soul of one of her brethren.

Today, it was either vengeance or the extinction of her race.

When Xu Fu's signal arrived, and those three thousand children were transformed into fireworks of flesh and blood, exploding one after another before the First Emperor's crown, she knew the time had come.

"For our kin sleeping in the Mount Li Mausoleum! For our brethren whose bones were extracted and whose fat was rendered!" Her shriek was sharp and wretched, piercing through the crashing waves.

This was the horn of war, the total eruption of grief and rage suppressed for countless years.

"BOOM--!"

Dozens of massive water spouts surged into the sky, driven by the combined efforts of her and her kin. Carrying the force of ten thousand jun, they slammed violently into the Black Birds that burned with ghostly blue flames and looked down upon all living things from the sky.

The collision of water and fire was extreme, erupting in a deafening roar. A white mist steamed across the sky, instantly spreading as if to drag this world into chaos.

Cen Qing led the charge, transforming into a pale blue stream of light as she shot out from the waves.

Her movements were as elegant as a dance in the deep sea; every rotation, every slash, stirred up massive waves.

Where the blade light passed, the heavy black armor of the Qin Elite Soldiers was torn apart like paper. The wounds were instantly frozen by extreme cold, preventing even a drop of blood from spraying out.

She could clearly feel the subtle vibrations as her blade sliced into flesh and severed bone. This sensation made the fire of vengeance in her heart burn even more fiercely; every ounce of pain reminded her of the misery of her people being dragged by fishing nets and wailing in alchemy furnaces until they turned into blue smoke.

Hatred was the only pillar supporting her, preventing her from collapsing.

In the chaotic battlefield, her gaze occasionally caught sight of the man named Chen Jin.

She had once meticulously plotted to pass the Mohist School leader's token, [Mo Mei], to him like a hot potato, intending to shift the disaster onto him; she had secretly pushed the Qin Mohists to hunt him down relentlessly.

Now, watching him maneuver among the surrounding enemies with an almost abnormally tenacious spirit, a ripple of indescribable emotion stirred in the icy lake of Cen Qing's heart.

However, the sudden turn of the battle far exceeded her worst estimations.

High above the firmament, the massive, god-like phantom of Jixia Academy Libationer Jiang Yan spoke slowly.

"Heaven and Earth as a Furnace—Creation as the Craftsman—Yin and Yang as the fuel—All things as copper—"

Following this chant, the entire Langya Mountain came alive—no, it died.

The mountain softened and collapsed amidst a mournful groan, stained a deep crimson as it transformed into a furnace of unimaginable scale.

At the center of the altar, the golden spirit fungus that Xu Fu had revered as the "Heavenly Dao Purple-Veined Ganoderma" began to spew billions of golden spores frantically. The mycelium spread like a living golden tide, eroding and devouring everything indiscriminately—Qin soldiers, Alchemists, Shark People, Black Birds, and even the grass, trees, soil, and stone.

Lord Xu Fu had schemed for years, only to end up making a wedding dress for someone else.

She watched with her own eyes as a Shark Person handmaiden who had followed her for years failed to dodge in time, her fish tail ensnared by a wisp of golden mycelium.

The mycelium spread upward like a living snake. Wherever it passed, scales lost their luster and flesh was assimilated. In just a few breaths, a grotesque golden mushroom cap broke through the skin of her once-beautiful forehead, freezing her final terror and youth forever.

Cen Qing slashed with her blade to sever the mycelium, but it grew back again. The constant hacking did nothing but cover her in spores.

Despair, like an undercurrent beneath a ten-thousand-fathom abyss, was cold and bone-chilling. It gripped her heart, nearly suffocating her.

Just as she thought everything was about to end and the last bloodline of the Shark People was to become fuel for the furnace, the man she had viewed as a pawn and a variable stood up. He performed an act that left all survivors, herself included, dumbstruck.

He abandoned all human form. His body swelled and twisted frantically as if being inflated, eventually transforming into a massive, pulsating, and proliferating mountain of pale flesh.

Even more unbelievable was that this seemingly evil, chaotic, and terrifying polymer of flesh displayed a "compassion" that was nearly miraculous.

Thousands of arms of various shapes erupted from the surface of the flesh mountain, protecting the crowd.

Cen Qing deflected a scorching stream of fire splashed by the chaotic furnace flames with her blade, looking with complex eyes at the "monster" that protected the masses with its own flesh.

A sense of immense absurdity struck her mind.

Her Shark People and the tyrannical Qin were supposed to be irreconcilable enemies, yet now, because of this incomprehensible god of flesh, they were forced to share the same precarious refuge in this hellish purgatory.

Hatred, in the face of indiscriminate destruction, seemed to have become somewhat... pale.

"What... exactly is he?" This question weighed heavily on Cen Qing's heart.

Immediately after, the overbearing Bronze Mecha, filled with the essence of war and slaughter, was forcibly stripped away, devoured, and fused by that mass of flesh.

She could feel that the mountain of flesh Chen Jin had become was climbing in power, its control over the surrounding wind, thunder, water, and fire strengthening. It seemed they had a glimmer of hope for survival.

However, this seemingly reversed situation was shattered by a single lash from Jiang Yan from across the void.

The god of flesh, held up by a thousand arms, let out a wretched scream that did not sound human. Then, its massive body twitched and convulsed violently as if all support had been drained away, finally losing all vitality and beginning to crumble and flake off like a weathered sandcastle.

Hope was extinguished once more.

Cen Qing quietly raised her head, preparing to welcome the destined end for her kin and herself.

Perhaps this was for the best; she would be reunited with her people in another world...

Then, she saw the scene from her dreams.

The sky shattered, and a rain of viscous, scarlet blood descended.

The disintegration of the massive fusion of flesh mountain and mecha accelerated abruptly, and countless fragments turned into fly ash.

Yet, amidst that collapse and dissolution, there was no pill formation as expected.

Only a perfectly intact humanoid figure slowly floated out.

It had the appearance of Chen Jin.

But, it was absolutely not him!

Even from a great distance, even while standing at the edge of the energy storm, Cen Qing felt an instinctive, uncontrollable trembling of her soul at that very moment.

It was an absolute difference in essence, a disparity in status.

Dense black mist, as if capable of swallowing all light, coiled around him.

He slowly opened his eyes.

Within those eyes, there was only indifference.

He hovered there silently, as if independent of this Heaven and Earth Furnace, independent of all rules and causality.

He spoke, his voice echoing calmly in the depths of every living soul, including hers.

"Is it you who wishes to ascend?"

"To ascend, one must undergo the tribulation."

"Only then, does it conform to logic."