Chapter 1589: Going Home

The battlefield at Tian Xu was a scene of utter devastation, with corpses strewn across the land and rivers of blood flowing. The earth was soaked in crimson, broken swords and spears jutting out at angles, while bloodstained banners whipped fiercely in the swirling yellow sands, roaring toward the heavens.

Who could have imagined that this stretch of heaven and earth would become the grave for over ten million cultivators, including four Zhun Di? In this war, the four clans were reduced to dust, save for their Di Bing. For centuries to come, this event would be etched into the history of Xuan Huang.

"Going home." Da Chu's Jiu Huang ascended to the skies, taking Ye Chen with him, along with fifty million cultivators, heading straight for Da Chu.

With those two words, "Going home," the fifty million cultivators of Tian Ting all burst into tears.

It had been three hundred years—three hundred years they had waited for this moment.

They were like lost orphans, and their soul-stirring homeland was like a mother's embrace, full of warmth.

All the onlookers gazed upward in awe, their eyes filled with reverence. Da Chu's Jiu Huang was overwhelmingly powerful, having single-handedly wiped out five Emperor Dao inheritances in one fell swoop.

In today's battle, they had forged the glory of Tian Ting.

This legend was destined to become an immortal myth, passed down through generations across the myriad domains of the heavens.

Jiu Huang departed, and the five great Tian Wang of the Jin Qu also turned and went their separate ways—one entering Tian Xu, one heading to the refining hell, one venturing into the underworld, one stepping into the Wang Chuan, and one walking the Huang Quan—each returning to their own domain.

In search of Da Chu, they had been away for three hundred years, separated for far too long.

The Jin Qu had their own missions, and upon their return, they dared not wander recklessly again, for the affairs of the five great Jin Qu were far too significant.

Jian Shen swept a glance at the empty sky, his gaze locking onto one person, and with a wave of his hand, he pulled that individual through the air.

It was a bearded old Daoist—none other than Yan Laodao.

"This junior greets Jian Shen." Yan Laodao hurriedly bowed, his heart filled with confusion, wondering why Jian Fei Dao had seized him.

"Do you know the whereabouts of the Ren Wang?" Jian Fei Dao asked without glancing sideways, as if he already knew that Yan Laodao's old connections traced back to the Ren Wang.

"More than a hundred years ago, I joined forces with Ye Chen and Bei Sheng to perform a divination, and we only got a single image—I'm not sure where it is!" Yan Laodao pulled out a jade slip and crushed it on the spot.

The shattered jade slip released a divine light, forming a watery screen in midair, which displayed a vast and beautiful landscape of mountains and rivers.

"Jian Shen, with your vast experience, could you tell what place this is?" Yan Laodao asked tentatively, looking toward Jian Shen.

Jian Shen remained silent, glancing at the screen before exchanging looks with Donghuang Tai Xin and the various Zhun Di of Tian Xuan Men.

"To have searched so far and wide only to find it effortlessly."

Zhitian Jian Shen Jian Fei Dao, Kunlun Shen Nu Donghuang Tai Xin, Dan Zun Qi Ye, the Zhun Di of Tian Xuan Men, Jiu Huang Shen Zhu, and the others all turned together, ascending to the heavens in pursuit of Jiu Huang.

The magnificent landscape shown in the watery screen was precisely Da Chu.

Yet, everyone was puzzled—how had the Ren Wang, who was undergoing his tribulation, ended up in Da Chu without even Tian Xuan Men detecting it?

They were baffled, and Yan Laodao scratched his head in bewilderment as well.

The spectators stood stunned for a long time, still reeling from the shock, their minds dizzy and lost in the aftermath, as if they were in a dream.

It was indeed a grand spectacle, and they hadn't come in vain.

How many years had it been since they witnessed such a massive battle?

With several million cultivators, over a hundred Zhun Di, and more than a dozen ultimate Dao Di Bing—this level of grandeur was unprecedented in history.

"This is all thanks to the Huang Gu Sheng Ti. Without him, we wouldn't have seen such a scene." Many people sighed in admiration.

"Ever since he arrived in Xuan Huang, the events have only grown more monumental each time."

Quite a few others lamented, counting on their fingers the shocking deeds of Ye Chen along his path, recounting them clearly.

Indeed, wherever he went, excitement and bloodshed followed, as if he were an unlucky child that everyone found displeasing.

But the facts proved that those who found him displeasing had all been sent to the Huang Quan, forming a line that stretched on endlessly.

"In the future, no matter who you provoke, don't provoke him. His nine Honored Ones are too ruthless, and their nine Di Bing are overwhelmingly dominant."

"Whether there even is a future is another question." The old veterans stroked their beards. "He's barely hanging on with his last breath."

At these words, people from all sides felt a deep regret. The mighty Huang Gu Sheng Ti was nothing more than a war god on his deathbed.

"Let's go." An elderly Zhun Di tucked his hands into his sleeves and slowly turned. "In the end, we still haven't figured out where Da Chu is."

"The hundred or so Zhun Di will surely be able to save Lao Qi." Kui Niu and his brothers were all quietly convinced of this.

"He's born to write myths." Nan Di smiled. "Let's go, and wait in Kunlun Ancient City."

The crowd followed, leaving only Bei Sheng, who silently gazed into the distance, gently biting her lip, her expression complex and worried.

She hoped Ye Chen would survive, at least long enough for her to confess the love hidden in her heart—even if rejected, she would have no regrets.

A breeze blew by, and she turned to follow the others.

The vast expanse of heaven and earth suddenly felt empty, with bloody winds howling, carrying sorrow and wails, buried by the passage of time.

In Da Chu, that stone stele stood tall, piercing the sky and intimidating the four seas and eight wastelands: Those who offend Da Chu will be pursued to the ends of the earth and slain.

The myriad star domains of the heavens were vast and boundless, ancient and profound.

On this day, everyone in the heavens felt as if something extra had been added—a aura of antiquity permeating the vast cosmic space.

Gazing into the distance, it was a splendid land of mountains and rivers, with beautiful landscapes and thriving life, holding many ancient stories.

It was Da Chu, lost for three hundred years, now integrated into the heavens, absorbing the essence of the heavens to heal its wounds.

"We're back, we're finally back." From afar, the fifty million cultivators of Tian Ting shouted hoarsely.

"Three hundred years have passed." The cultivators reincarnated in Da Chu rushed from all directions, like tides and seas, covering the sky.

The two groups merged, embracing one another, searching for family and old friends, their faces streaked with tears, sobbing uncontrollably.

The descendants of the Honored Ones, the various kings of past generations, the three sects, nine halls, eighty-one gates, Yan Huang, Dan Cheng, Xiong family, Shangguan family, Situ family, Hao Tian family, Dongfang, Ximen, Nangong, Beichen, Panlong Sea Domain, Qi Xi Palace, Zhu Jian Cheng...

Da Chu's Tian Ting and all its major forces had their legacies intact.

Three hundred years ago, they fought against the heavenly demons and died on this land, their blood still staining it.

Three hundred years later, reunited once more, there were endless tales to tell, inexhaustible hardships to share, and tears that flowed without end.

The past and present were like previous and current lives, with three hundred years in between—like the mortal world, akin to a fleeting dream, ancient and distant.

At the Zhong Tong Grand Earth, before the Tomb of Heroes, the cultivators of Da Chu gathered. On that stone stele, countless names were densely engraved.

These were etched three hundred years ago by Ye Chen and the few surviving cultivators, one stroke at a time, weathered by the passage of time.

Now, with ninety million heroic souls of Da Chu mostly returned, many names remained unclaimed: Chu Xuan, Chu Ling, Long Ye, Zi Xuan, Chu Hai Shen Bing, Dao Huang, Zhuge Yu, Du Gu Ao, Dan Chen, Dan Yi, Chu Cang Zong, Nangong Yue, Dongfang Yu Ling, Shangguan Xuan Zong, Zhong Jiang, Zhong Kui, Ji Ning Shuang, Hu Wa, Si Wang...

They might not have been found yet, or perhaps they couldn't reincarnate, having truly turned to dust in history three hundred years ago.

"Every day, I come here to brush the dust off your names." Tang Ru Xuan leaned on Xiong Er's arm, smiling through her tears.

Three hundred years felt like a blink, yet so long. Her hair was still snow-white, her expression weary and pitiable.

"Every day, I look up at the stars, hoping my Xuan doesn't shed too many tears." Even the usually unreliable Xiong Er spoke words of affection, revealing his truest feelings.

"Father, mother, sister, we've missed you for three hundred years." Hao Tian Shi Xue and Hao Tian Shi Yue both had eyes brimming with hot tears.

"We're together again." Hao Tian Xuan Zhen and Hua Xu smiled warmly, looking at their daughters, sons-in-law, and grandchildren, overcome with emotion, their eyes blurred with tears.

"These years, have you thought of home?" Yang Ding Tian, Xu Fu, Dao Xuan Zhen Ren, and Pang Da Chuan were all in tears.

"Through a hundred twists and turns, never forgotten until death." Situ Nan, Liu Yi, Nie Feng, and Ye Wu Xue all wiped away their tears.

"Though only three hundred years old, I suddenly feel older than in my previous life." Gu San Tong smiled faintly, his expression laced with nostalgia.

"Junior sister, it feels like a lifetime ago!" Zhong Li's voice was hoarse and aged. "I never thought we'd meet again."

"One day, our master and senior brother will return too." Hong Chen Xue gazed at the stele, her clear and beautiful eyes growing misty.

"This is my homeland." Xie Yun held Mu Wan Qing's hand, Duan Yu held Yun Meng's, Qin Yu held Ji Ru Yan's, and Man Xiong held Man Man's, their words full of warmth.

"Da Chu is truly beautiful." The women all smiled tenderly.

Amid the reminiscences, the cultivators of Da Chu left Zhong Tong Grand Earth, soaring through the skies on swords or riding clouds, gathering toward Tian Xuan Men.

They were all standing here thanks to Ye Chen, but now that they had returned, Da Chu's Ye Chen had fallen.

Everyone looked up at the hazy sky, their eyes filled with hope, wishing for that person to awaken and emerge alive from Tian Xuan Men.

In Tian Xuan Men, over a hundred Zhun Di stood gathered around a cloud platform, with Ye Chen, sealed in place, lying upon it.

"Are you certain the Ren Wang is in Da Chu?" Yue Huang asked, looking at Donghuang Tai Xin.

"We've used the nine Di Bing to locate it, and we've indeed found a trace of his energy." Donghuang Tai Xin spoke softly. "But there's a mysterious force concealing him, so it will take some time."

"I'm surprised that with Da Chu under Emperor Dao scrutiny, the Ren Wang could undergo his tribulation here without the heavens' wheel of reincarnation noticing at all?" Yan Huang scanned the Zhun Di of Tian Xuan Men, his expression puzzled.

"We've underestimated the Ren Wang." Donghuang Tai Xin shook her head with a smile. "He's a remnant soul of the Ren Huang, and the Ren Huang is the ancestor of the heavens. It's no surprise he could evade Emperor Dao scrutiny."

"I'm afraid that even if we find the Ren Wang Fu Xi, it will be hard to change Ye Chen's fate." Someone sighed. "He only has one breath left."

"We have to try." Jiu Huang acted repeatedly, casting secret techniques to suppress the heavens for Ye Chen, preventing that domineering force from extinguishing even his last breath.

Jian Shen, Donghuang Tai Xin, Dan Zun, and the other hundred-plus Zhun Di also cast their spells in succession. They didn't dare hope to fully revive him, only to stabilize that final breath, which was key to his survival.

Ye Chen lay still, unmoving, his faint consciousness drifting away.

In a haze, he seemed to see a primordial demonic land, with dark skies devoid of light, thunder crashing and lightning flashing, filled with desolation.

On the demonic land, a majestic figure clad in golden armor led a million divine generals, marching straight through the heavens.

His consciousness blurred again, and when the scene reappeared, the Wuwang Demonic Land was dyed red with blood, as if it had endured a catastrophic calamity, piled high with corpses and flowing with rivers of blood.

The million divine generals were gone, having fallen on that land.

On the blood-soaked demonic ground, only the golden-armored figure remained, his body covered in bloody wounds, gripping a broken sword, staggering forward in the face of doom.