Prologue

Within a majestic hall shrouded in clouds and mist, at the end of a thirty-zhang-long flight of azure jade steps, a man in golden robes sat upright upon a huge chair as white as jade.

The resplendent, golden hall was now a complete wreck!

The floor was strewn not only with broken weapons such as axes, halberds, hooks, and forks, but also with all manner of rare treasures. Several of the enormous coiling-dragon pillars on either side had shattered as well, leaving only half-height stumps.

The grand and imposing hall was deathly silent. Other than the golden-robed man sitting there alone, not a single other figure could be seen.

The golden-robed man turned a blind eye to it all, staring woodenly at something on the floor not far away.

On a massive plaque, nearly half of it broken away, the two huge golden characters "Lingxiao" radiated boundless majesty.

A deafening boom rang out!

After the enormous hall trembled slightly, dense silver spirit patterns emerged throughout its corners and rapidly spread outward. Layer upon layer appeared in ever greater numbers, until in mere moments they covered the entire hall like a gigantic web.

Thunderous explosions outside rang out without end. The silver spirit patterns within the hall flashed wildly, while the ground cracked open and the ceiling let out creaking wails.

"So, it has finally come to this!"

The golden-robed man finally raised his head and murmured. Looking toward the top of the hall, his face was faintly covered by a layer of white light, making his features utterly impossible to discern.

The hall's violet-gold ceiling burst apart with a bang. Amid countless flying fragments, a heaven-reaching demonic hand as vast as a mountain savagely clawed down at the golden-robed man.

A golden mountain over ten thousand zhang tall was wrapped in an endless sea of green demonic flames. From the temple atop the mountain came continuous chants of Buddhist scripture, while countless golden Sanskrit characters flew forth, desperately resisting the encroaching demonic flames.

Yet as time passed, fewer and fewer Sanskrit characters flew from the mountain, and the Buddhist chanting gradually weakened. Before long, it was swallowed by the surging green flames, leaving no sound behind.

In the dim Netherworld Ghostland, at the gates of a savage black giant city, countless bizarre ghostly creatures shrieked as they surged forth. Some vicious ghosts rode strange winds through the air, while others burrowed underground and fled directly away, vanishing densely into the gray wilderness beyond like floodwaters released from a dam.

The mortal world! Noon!

The sky was black as ink, without the faintest trace of sunlight. Cities and wilderness alike seemed as dark as midnight, with only scattered lights faintly visible.

In some cities and towns, beneath those lights, countless people could vaguely be seen looking up at the black sky, some dumbfounded, others seized by terror.

Low cries suddenly echoed through the black sky, growing louder and sharper, as though countless people were weeping softly. The sound filled those who heard it with unbearable sorrow and brought tears to their eyes.

Almost at the same moment, dense red lights flickered high in the sky. Then crimson meteors pierced through the black curtain one after another—some as large as mountains, even the smallest as large as houses—plunging toward the mortal world with thunderous roars, falling across the lands of the four continents.

During the Great Tang era, a demon devoured the heavens. The heavens wept and sent heavenly fire into the world, causing grievous casualties among the people. —"Record of the Demonic Calamity"