"A game within a cage, and you think it deserves a solution?"
The indifferent voice fell.
The incense ash inside the Ruined Temple instantly hung suspended in midair.
Sect Master Tongtian stood before the Divine Statue, his azure robes motionless, yet a strand of Immortal Slaying Sword intent in his sleeve rang out on its own.
Clang!
The sound was exceedingly faint.
Yet deep within the Saint's Dao Heart, it was as though a sword had cleaved apart the understanding he had maintained for countless cosmic cycles.
The great calamity of the Investiture of the Gods.
A decree issued from the Purple Heaven Palace.
A pact signed by the Three Teachings.
The Heavenly Court lacked gods, disciples of the Mystic Gate entered the calamity, and the karma of heaven and earth was thereby rearranged.
A calamity of this magnitude could sweep through the Three Realms and Six Paths.
Even a Quasi-Saint who entered the game risked death and the destruction of their Dao.
Saints sat beside the board, yet still had to heed the workings of the Heavenly Dao, the fortune of their disciples, and the Dao Ancestor's decree.
But the being behind the clay Divine Statue before him had cast the entire Investiture of the Gods into the dust with a single sentence.
A game within a cage.
Those words had already gone beyond mere reckless boasting.
Tongtian's gaze darkened slightly.
In the void behind him, four sword phantoms-the Immortal Slaying Sword, the Immortal-Killing Sword, the Immortal-Trapping Sword, and the Immortal-Severing Sword-appeared simultaneously for an instant.
Before that murderous aura had truly descended, every wandering soul outside the Mass Burial Grounds had already prostrated itself.
The walls of the entire Ruined Temple also began cracking soundlessly.
Yet the thin line of Primordial Purple Patterns between the Divine Statue's brows remained tranquil.
It did not retreat.
It did not evade.
It did not even ripple in the slightest beneath a Saint's sword intent.
Tongtian stared at those purple patterns, and for the first time, genuine gravity entered his heart.
That was no ordinary means of concealing Heavenly Secrets.
When his saintly sense probed it, there was neither backlash nor collision.
It was as though the path of karma itself had been erased from the Dao map of the Primordial World.
He could not trace its source.
Nor could he discern its origins.
After a moment of silence, Tongtian slowly spoke.
"Fellow Daoist, those words are rather too sweeping."
He did not reach for the Incense Burner again.
The azure sword intent withdrew into his sleeve, but did not disperse.
"The decree for the Investiture of the Gods came from the Purple Heaven Palace, and the Three Teachings signed it together. Heaven and earth bear its karma, and all living beings fall within its destined calamity."
"The Interception Sect, the Chan Sect, the Human Religion, and even the various divisions of the Heavenly Court cannot escape this turning of heavenly destiny."
"When disciples enter the calamity, those whose cultivation and merits are shallow go onto the list, while those with deep foundations escape."
"This game concerns the fortune of the Mystic Gate, the Divine Positions of the Heavenly Court, and the future order of the Primordial World."
Tongtian watched the Divine Statue without blinking.
"Why do you say it is merely a game within a cage?"
This question was more direct than before.
He was probing.
And pressing for an answer.
If the other party was merely pretending to be profound, a flaw would inevitably reveal itself next.
If the other party truly could view the Investiture of the Gods from beyond the Heavenly Dao, then the significance of today's conversation in this Ruined Temple would far exceed all his previous judgments.
The Divine Statue remained silent for a moment.
The purple radiance within the Incense Burner flickered gently.
Then that voice sounded again.
"A decree from the Purple Heaven Palace amounts to the will of heaven?"
Tongtian's gaze sharpened slightly.
The voice from the Divine Statue remained as cold as before.
"Having merged with the Heavenly Dao, does he truly think he is heaven itself?"
Boom!
As those words fell, the saintly Dao resonance surrounding Tongtian abruptly sank.
The morning mist outside the temple was crushed into deathly stillness.
Deep in the Mass Burial Grounds, even the consciousness of countless wandering souls seemed frozen.
Deep within Tongtian's pupils, four sword phantoms lit up at once.
Those words had touched upon the deepest taboo of the Primordial World.
Dao Ancestor Hongjun.
Merged with the Heavenly Dao.
At a single word from the Purple Heaven Palace, all six Saints had to obey the decree.
Ever since the Witch-Demon Calamity, the Dao Ancestor had been the supreme shadow looming above the order of the Primordial World.
The Saints could contend.
They could fight.
They could scheme.
But none would point a blade at the Purple Heaven Palace.
Still less would anyone dare speak of the ancestor who had merged with the Dao in such a tone.
Yet at this moment, there was no Heavenly Punishment within the Ruined Temple.
No thunder.
No warning from the Heavenly Dao.
Tongtian could not even sense the slightest echo from the Heavenly Dao.
He abruptly looked at the Primordial Purple Patterns between the Divine Statue's brows.
That layer of Dao resonance had isolated this place from the Heavenly Dao's perception.
It was not concealment.
Nor was it deception.
It was more as though this Ruined Temple had temporarily departed from the original karmic plane of the Primordial World.
Tongtian's fingertips tightened slightly.
This alarmed him even more than those words judging Hongjun.
Daring to speak of a taboo was already astonishing.
Being able to keep the Heavenly Dao from hearing was what made it truly terrifying.
The voice from the Divine Statue continued.
"In the end, he is merely a prisoner standing higher within the Heavenly Dao's cage."
"What have the rules he set to do with me?"
The temple fell utterly silent.
Tongtian did not speak at once.
He had lived through countless cosmic cycles, witnessed the Dragon-Han Calamity and the struggle between witches and demons, and seen Buzhou Mountain topple and the pillar of heaven break.
He believed he had witnessed the sharpest slaughter in the Primordial World, as well as its deepest schemes.
Yet today, for the first time, he had heard a voice from behind a clay Divine Statue that belonged to none of the Dao traditions of the Primordial World.
There was no resentment in that voice.
No provocation.
It merely placed the Dao Ancestor, the Heavenly Dao, and the Investiture of the Gods alike beneath itself with perfect calm.
That calm was far more frightening than furious abuse.
Tongtian slowly drew a breath.
He did not lose his composure.
A Saint was a Saint, after all.
After that instant of shock, he steadied his mind once more, and the sword light in his eyes sank back into their depths.
"Fellow Daoist, where exactly do you come from?"
This time, he did not ask for a name again.
A name could be fabricated.
Origins could be concealed.
But the source of one's Great Dao could not be hidden from a true expert.
At least, that was what Tongtian had always believed.
The main temple at Guanjiangkou.
Gu Changqing sat cross-legged within the Divine Statue, twenty Godfiend Acupores resting silently like stars.
In a corner of his sea of consciousness, system warnings continued scrolling soundlessly.
[Tongtian's saintly sense detected maintaining a lock on the branch temple in Chaoge.] [Primordial Purple Patterns operating at full capacity.] [The host's physical-body karma has been transferred into the depths of the Divine Realm.]
Gu Changqing paid them no heed.
Through the incense-offering anchor, he quietly watched Tongtian.
Today's game had come unexpectedly, but it was not a bad thing.
Drawing Tongtian into the game was more valuable than having Yuanshi arrive in person.
Yuanshi valued rules, hierarchy, and the Jade Void Law.
If he came here, he would most likely first crush the temple beneath his saintly might, then use karma to force answers.
Tongtian was different.
He trusted his sword, and he trusted his instincts.
The more inscrutable a variable was, the more he wanted to cleave through the mist and see it with his own eyes.
Only someone like that could be moved.
Within the great calamity of the Investiture of the Gods, ten thousand immortals paid homage to the Interception Sect. Its fortune seemed to be at its peak, but in truth, it had long since become the target of every arrow.
The Chan Sect wanted to use the Investiture of the Gods to weaken the Interception Sect.
The Western Religion wanted to take advantage of the chaos to draw the East's fortune westward.
The Heavenly Court wanted to fill its Divine Positions.
The Purple Heaven Palace wanted to bring the Mystic Gate back into order.
In this deadly game, the first to be pushed onto the sacrificial altar was the Interception Sect.
What Gu Changqing needed to do now was not explain to Tongtian where he came from.
The more he explained, the more flaws he would expose.
He only needed to make Tongtian realize one thing.
Beyond the Investiture of the Gods lay an even greater cage.
And the Interception Sect already stood beneath the blade.
Inside the Ruined Temple.
The purple patterns between the Divine Statue's brows brightened slightly.
Gu Changqing's voice sounded again.
"Where I come from is not important."
Tongtian narrowed his eyes slightly.
The Divine Statue continued:
"What matters is that you just asked whether this game has a solution."
"I can tell you."
The ash within the Incense Burner rose without wind.
Every grain of ash seemed to be supported by an invisible Dao resonance.
Tongtian did not interrupt.
The four sword phantoms behind him also quieted at that moment.
Gu Changqing's voice was indifferent.
"This game has no solution."
Tongtian's gaze abruptly sharpened.
"Why?"
The voice from the Divine Statue fell like a knife, straight into his saintly Dao Heart.
"Because from the very beginning, this was a deadly game laid out specifically to destroy the Interception Sect."
The words fell.
Behind Tongtian, the phantom of fortune that embodied ten thousand immortals paying homage on Golden Turtle Island abruptly dimmed a fraction.