Before long, the two arrived at the Human Race's Sacred Mausoleum.
The Dragon Race's Sacred Mausoleum was part of Ancient Dragon City and incomparably magnificent, but the Human Race's Sacred Mausoleum was quite ordinary.
It was simply a valley a little over ten li across, with enormous stones roughly a hundred zhang tall arrayed within it. Each stone was a vaguely human-shaped statue.
Fang Yun stood at the valley entrance, carefully studying the humanoid statues.
These statues looked as though they had been left half-carved and unfinished. Yet a closer look revealed no marks from tools or chisels on their surfaces. It was as though a silent, unseen force was quietly changing them, slowly transforming ordinary rocks into true statues.
Unlike the histories of the other races, which often spanned tens or hundreds of thousands of years, these statues were quite recent. The newest was barely over a hundred years old, and even the oldest was no more than a thousand.
Aside from these forty-six statues, the valley held nothing.
Tian Songshi smiled. "Every Great Scholar who entered the Blood Tomb Mausoleum has already spent a day here. The unlucky ones, like me, received a baptism from the saints' thoughts, bringing a qualitative transformation to everything in our Literary Palaces. Becoming a Literary Ancestor is now just around the corner. The lucky ones, who had already become Literary Ancestors, met the saints in their dreams and received their guidance. The luckiest of all was Master Zhi Shi."
"What was different about him?" Fang Yun asked curiously.
"Different hardly begins to describe it. Several hours after he entered, the valley shook, the Saints' Statues rang out in unison, glorious colors filled the sky, and all living beings sang his praises. Barring any unforeseen mishap, even though the Demon Emperor gravely wounded