The Saint Lord Nearing His End, and the Unactivated Blind Box

The Great Qin era, the three-thousand-and-twenty-sixth year, spring.

The Primeval Holy Land.

Tonight, without wind or moon, the nine main peaks of the entire holy land were all shrouded in a purple hue that was close to freezing solid. That was the miraculous manifestation of the holy land's grand protective array, the Purple Qi Comes from the East Great Array, running to its absolute limit, yet the hundred thousand disciples throughout the sect felt not the slightest sense of safety; instead, an indescribable sorrow and oppression gripped their breath tightly.

The Primeval Bell rang without wind.

Dong—dong—dong—

The muffled bell tolls resounded across tens of thousands of li of mountains and rivers, each sound more withered than the last, each sound more desolate than the last.

This was the Fallen Bell.

All disciples with any experience knew that this bell was not tolled for an invasion by external enemies, but to see off their Holy Master—Ji Changkong, who had lived for a full three thousand years.

Deep within the Primeval Main Hall.

An aged elder, thin as a skeleton, sat quietly cross-legged upon a meditation mat carved from Ten-Thousand-Year Black Ice Jade Marrow. He wore the purple-gold eight-trigrams Dao robe that symbolized the supreme power of the holy land, yet worn upon his body, that robe appeared hollow and empty, as though it were merely a skeleton draped in gorgeous silk.

He was too old.

His skin resembled dried tree bark, his entire head of silver hair lacked a shred of luster, and his eye sockets were deeply sunken, leaving only a pair of eyes that in the darkness still retained a faint light like a candle in the wind.

Ji Changkong, one of the three great human Holy Masters of the Canglan Realm, had once swept across the Demon Domain for eight thousand li with a single sword, overawing the abyss demons for three hundred years.

Yet before the River of Time, even supreme mighty figures standing at the pinnacle of the mortal world ultimately amounted to nothing more than a handful of dust.

The heavenly road... where is it?

Ji Changkong slowly raised his withered palm, seeming to wish to pierce through these layers of void and touch that illusory immortal realm.

His voice was hoarse, dry, and laden with boundless reluctance and sorrow: I have cultivated bitterly for three thousand years, and I dare say my natural talent is inferior to none of the ancients, while my resolve can rival the sun and moon. Yet why... does this grand dao of heaven and earth refuse to bestow even a single shred of an opportunity to become an immortal?

For hundreds of thousands of years, Great Emperors have not manifested, and the immortal gates have not opened. Could it be that practitioners of our generation are truly fated only to struggle and wait for death in this mortal mire, turning to ashes of tribulation?

Not a single person answered him.

Outside the grand hall, several dozen grand elders and peak masters of the holy land knelt in long rows without rising, their expressions mournful. Among them, the weakest in strength was a Dao-Slaying King who dominated his own region, yet before destiny, they were likewise as insignificant as ants, able only to watch helplessly as this towering pillar that had protected the holy land for three thousand years walked toward the end of its life.

Despair.

An inner despair, a despair over the severance of the grand dao, spread like a plague throughout the entire Primeval Holy Land and even the entire Canglan Realm.

Compared to the oppressive and stifling Primeval Main Hall, the Scripture Pavilion at the edge of the holy land appeared exceptionally cold and serene.

The green oil lamp flickered like a bean, illuminating layers upon layers of ancient bookshelves.

Su Chen stood before an antique wooden table, holding a soft feathered dusting brush in his hand, unhurriedly brushing away the floating dust from a tattered ancient tome.

He wore a pale-green scholar's robe washed somewhat white, his posture upright, his features refined and handsome, and his eyes warm and pure like jade, revealing a calm and transcendence that did not belong to his age.

The tolling of the death knell outside drifted faintly to this place, and Su Chen's movements paused slightly before he gently let out a sigh.

Ji Changkong is about to die.

Su Chen had arrived in this world for a full three years already.

As a transmigrator, he possessed neither supreme cultivation aptitude nor earth-shaking background; he had simply relied on an opportunity to be recruited as a handyman by the Primeval Holy Land, sneaking into this scripture pavilion that was isolated almost from the world to become an idle guarding disciple.

The Canglan Realm was a cruel world of immortal cultivation, where the strong preyed on the weak and entire sects were routinely wiped out.

Su Chen knew his own limits very well, so over these past three years he kept a low profile and lived a secluded life, doing nothing every day besides reading books and sweeping floors, behaving like a mortal who had completely seen through the world.

Yet only he himself knew that the reason he remained so calm was because deep within his mind, there had always been an unactivated "mystery box."

It was a mysterious orb of light radiating primal chaos energy. No matter how Su Chen attempted to communicate with it over these past three years, it had not produced the slightest reaction.

Yet at the very instant when Ji Changkong's limit approached and the Primeval Bell tolled its ninth chime.

Hum—

A crisp chime that only Su Chen could hear burst open within the depths of his sea of consciousness without warning.

[Detected that the host's world has a "defective heavenly dao" and a "historical fault rate reaching 99.9%," meeting the activation conditions.]
[The "Myth Editing System" has successfully bound!]

A cold, mechanical voice that carried a certain supreme majesty echoed beside Su Chen's ear.

In Su Chen's eyes, which had remained tranquil as an ancient well all along, a trace of ripples finally stirred.

System... you are a full three years late. He spoke softly in his heart, yet his tone held no resentment, only the peace of settling dust.

[This system aims to help the host reshape the cognition of the myriad realms and interfere with the River of Time.]
[Function description: The host may consume "Karma Points" to out of nothing edit, create, and manifest any mythological legends, historical ruins, ancient figures, or grand dao manifestations.]
[Rule: Once the mythological content edited by the host is observed by the powerhouses of this world (especially children of destiny and contemporary mighty figures) and causes them to firmly believe in it, the system will collect their overflowing mental fluctuations and heavenly karma, converting them into "Karma Points."]
[When the "spread value" of a certain mythological concept reaches 100%, that myth will completely merge into reality, becoming the unquestionable, true history of this universe's past, present, and future!]

Listening to the system's explanation, Su Chen's breathing involuntarily grew slightly hurried.

Fabricating myths and tampering with reality?

Allowing the illusory gods and Buddhas of the heavens to revive in this defective world devoid of any traces of immortals?

This was no longer a simple "golden finger"—this was directly handing the authority to create worlds and toy with fate right into his hands!

No wonder the system required a "historical fault rate reaching 99.9%." Su Chen looked thoughtfully at the void before him.

He had not spent the past three years in the Scripture Pavilion in vain.

He had searched through all the historical records of the Canglan Realm and discovered that the history of this world possessed an extremely terrifying fault line.

Approximately ten million years ago, the Canglan Realm had experienced an unimaginable catastrophe; all ancient books, inheritances, and orthodox traditions had been completely destroyed, and even the heavenly dao had become tattered and incomplete.

Today, ten million years later, practitioners knew only that the Great Emperor was the limit of cultivation. As for whether realms existed beyond the Great Emperor and whether ascending to immortality was merely a lie, not a single soul knew.

No past history, no hope of ascension.

This was quite simply a perfect canvas tailored specifically for Su Chen!

[Novice gift pack has been issued.]
[Congratulations to the host for obtaining initial Karma Points: 100 points.]
[Unlocked Tier 1 editing permissions: Can create "illusion-grade" law projections or manifest "mortal-grade / weak spirit-grade" physical props.]

Su Chen immediately sank into the system panel, only to see dense rows of countless names and concepts with which he was intimately familiar listed within the exchange list:

"Great Heavenly Venerable of the Primordial World," "Investiture of the Gods," "Journey to the West," "Legends of the Ancient Heavenly Court"...

Every single mythological system was grand enough to make one shudder.

However, looking at those supreme concepts that routinely required hundreds of millions or billions of Karma Points to exchange, Su Chen quickly calmed down.

100 Karma Points—what can they do?

Su Chen entered the two characters for "Heavenly Court" into the search bar.

Very soon, an entry matching his current net worth leaped into view:

[Entry: Desolate Ancient Heavenly Court · A Corner Fragment (Illusion-Grade)]
[Description: Can consume 100 Karma Points to simulate a large-scale historical retrospective manifestation involving the "collapse of the ancient Heavenly Court." This manifestation contains an extremely faint aura of archaic laws, sufficient to pass for genuine, but possesses no actual lethality.]

Looking at this entry, the corners of Su Chen's mouth curved up slightly.

Enough.

A true top-tier chess player never needs to lay out a full board of gods and Buddhas right at the start. In this world despairing of the immortal dao, even the projection of a mere ancient fragment is enough to stir up a cognitive-shattering storm.

And the person most suited to serve as this first spectator...

Su Chen turned his head, gazing toward that Primeval Main Hall which appeared lonely and despairing amidst the purple qi.

Ji Changkong, aren't you resenting the ruthlessness of the heavenly dao and the lack of a path to immortality?

In that case, I will show you... the truth of a shattered immortal gate and a blood-stained Heavenly Court.

With a thought in his mind, Su Chen hesitated no longer.

System, exchange [Desolate Ancient Heavenly Court · A Corner Fragment (Illusion-Grade)], deployment location—above the Primeval Holy Land!

Begin editing background audio and law fluctuations...

Manifestation, rise!

The Primeval Main Hall.

Ji Changkong's fire of longevity had extinguished down to its very last wick.

His soul perception was gradually peeling away, and his eyes could no longer clearly see the scene before him, leaving only a patch of illusory darkness.

It's ending, then... He sighed inwardly.

Yet at this very instant, just as he was about to close his eyes and sink completely into eternal extinction.

Rumble—!!

A deafening roar that defied description suddenly exploded across the entire heaven and earth!

That was not the sound of thunder, but rather resembled some colossal entity that had slumbered for countless epochs turning over within the ruins of time, shattering the chains of time itself.

Puff—!

Outside the grand hall, the dozens of grand elders and peak masters who knelt without rising changed color at virtually the same instant, opening their mouths to spit out a stream of fresh blood.

It was not because they had suffered an attack, but because at that exact instant, a terrifying pressure—unimaginable and surpassing all grand daos of the Canglan Realm—descended from the void!

That pressure was archaic, ancient, and noble to the extreme; merely a shred of its overflowing aftermath caused these Dao-Slaying Kings, who ordinarily shook their own regions with prestige, to tremble in soul and nearly fall to their knees.

What is going on?! Is there a formidable enemy attacking Primeval?!

No! This isn't spiritual pressure, this is... heavenly might! These are laws that do not belong to this era!

In shock and terror, everyone raised their heads to look at the sky.

And the next moment, they completely lost their voices.

They saw that the "Purple Qi Comes from the East Great Array," which had enshrouded the holy land for three thousand years, failed to persist for even a ten-thousandth of a second against this pressure, melting and dissolving silently like fragile glazed glass.

Immediately following that, the pitch-black night sky was suddenly shrouded by a strange layer of blood-colored mist.

Within that blood mist, the sound of a great river surging faintly echoed.

That was not the flow of mortal water, but rather... the River of Time!

Swish, swish, splash!

The river water flowed backward, and time reversed.

Before everyone's dazed gazes, a massive golden fissure slowly split open above that churning River of Time.

Endless immortal light gushed out from the fissure, illuminating the entire night as bright as day.

That... that is...

Inside the Primeval Main Hall, Ji Changkong—who had already closed his eyes to await death—abruptly opened his eyes!

Two blinding beams of divine light burst from his eyes, and his previously withered lifeblood miraculously experienced a reflection of vitality at this moment, surging crazily.

He stared fixedly at that golden fissure, his aged body trembling violently from extreme shock.

This aura... This supreme aura that surpasses the Great Emperor and transcends the suppression of the heavenly dao...

Could it be... the Path to Immortality has opened?!

No, that was not right.

Before Ji Changkong could even feel excited, the scene within that fissure completely doused his overflowing fervitity into a bone-chilling cold.

That was not the immortal realm.

That was... a ruin.

Through the golden curtain of light that blocked out the sky, everyone could faintly see that above the heavy layers of clouds, towering palaces standing thousands of zhang tall rose grandly.

Those palaces were forged entirely from immortal gold and divine jade, radiating an eternally undying brilliance. Yet now, these immortal palaces—symbolizing supreme nobility—were all fractured and collapsed, countless fragments of immortal gold scattering across the void like the tears of gods.

A broad white jade grand staircase led straight to the heavens; it was a path of ascension before which even Great Emperors had to bow their heads when walking upon it.

Yet at this moment, that staircase was covered with dark red bloodstains.

The bloodstains were uncoagulated, and every single drop of divine blood that fell crushed the surrounding void, evolving into one fragmentary minor world after another.

The... the Heavenly Court...

Somewhere in the nether, ancient primordial people seemed to wail in the void, and those intermittent murmurs pierced through the barrier of time, falling deep into the soul of every living person.

The Desolate Ancient Heavenly Court... has collapsed...

The earth is severed from heaven...

The gods have fallen... the immortal path... is cut off...

The murmurs carried boundless despair and desolation, sounding like the final sigh at the destruction of an epoch.

Immediately following that, the imagery shifted.

At the end of the shattered staircase of ascension, a colossal and majestic figure standing between heaven and earth faintly appeared.

He wore a tattered Nine-Dragon Emperor Robe, bathed entirely in blood, and the immortal sword in his hand—which seemed capable of cleaving the universe—had snapped into two halves.

He stood quietly upon the ruins where myriad immortals had spewed blood, his back turned to all living beings of the Canglan Realm.

Even as the primal chaos energy rolled around his body and the River of Time roared at his feet, he retained not a shred of vitality.

That was the corpse of an immortal dao supreme being.

Even in death, he would suppress ninety thousand li of the heavenly vault!

Rumble—!!

The manifestation stopped abruptly at this point.

The blood-filled sky, the River of Time, the towering Heavenly Court, the bleeding emperor corpse... everything vanished into nothingness in an instant, as though that soul-shaking scene moments before had merely been a brief hallucination.

The night sky returned once again to silence.

Within the Primeval Holy Land, there was a dead silence.

Everyone stood frozen in place, their minds blank, with only the scenes they had just witnessed branding themselves fiercely into the deepest recesses of their souls like branding irons, impossible to erase.

Inside the Primeval Main Hall.

Ji Changkong stared blankly at the empty sky, two streams of turbid tears sliding slowly down his withered cheeks.

So that's how it was...

So that's how it was!

Instead of going mad, he let out a laugh of extreme sorrow.

It is not that our generation is incompetent, nor that this old man's natural talent was insufficient...

Rather, as early as the Desolate Ancient Epoch, that supreme Heavenly Court had already collapsed!

The immortal path... was already severed back then!

[Ding!]

In the Scripture Pavilion, inside Su Chen's mind, the system's notification chimes suddenly began to ring frantically like raindrops:

[Detected a violent tremor in the Dao heart of Ji Changkong, a mighty figure of this age. He felt profound awe toward the myth "Desolate Ancient Heavenly Court" created by the host, forming a deep logical loop.]

["Desolate Ancient Heavenly Court" entry propagation increased: 0.01% -> 5%!]

[Karma Points gained: +2,000!]

[Detected that Heavenly Sword Guest, a mighty figure of Primeval Holy Land, had convinced himself... Karma Points gained: +400!]

[...]

As notifications of soaring Karma Points rang in his ears, Su Chen stood beside the green lamp and slowly drew back the feather duster in his hand.

He closed his eyes slightly, feeling the mysterious power of karma and the Heavenly Dao surge into his mind. A knowing smile curved his lips.

In this first round, he had not only saved Ji Changkong's life but also planted the seed of the "myth" deep in the hearts of some of the strongest people in the world.

This is only the beginning, Su Chen murmured.