Month after month, the dead souls piled high—and Fang Yuan reaped them all.
Their fragmented souls, torn from corpses and regrets alike, were thrown onto the Dang Hun Mountain.
And, under his quiet control, Guts Gu emerged one after another, like embers forged from human essence.
That day, his soul expanded—unyielding and vast—as it reached the realm of a hundred thousand men. Just then, the message arrived.
"Yu Tian's Heroes Assembly has concluded."
Fang Yuan's eyes flickered faintly, like the surface of a still lake disturbed by a single drop.
"As expected," he murmured.
"With me tipping the scales, Hei Lou Lan won the heroes assembly unchallenged this time."
His voice carried no pride. Only truth.
He rose slowly, casting a long, distorted shadow across the blood-stained cave.
"It's time I paid her a visit."
...
Hei Lou Lan threw his head back, laughter booming through the war tent like rolling thunder.
"Hahaha! After today, the name of Yu Tian's Heroes Assembly will shake the Northern Plains. Let every clan fume and gnash their teeth—they'll find me impossible to swallow!"
But before his echo faded, a voice—quiet, cold, and cutting—sliced through the air like a blade drawn in silence.
"Good grief… You speak as though you earned that seat yourself."
The temperature in the tent dropped. From the shadows, a figure stepped forward—calm, unrushed.
He had hair as black as midnight, eyes deeper than ancient wells, and skin pale like porcelain untouched by time. Handsome, yes—but it was not beauty that drew the eye. It was the stillness. The kind of stillness that made predators hesitate.
Hei Lou Lan's expression stiffened. Even he couldn't help but avert his gaze, if only for a heartbeat. His voice, though sharp, held the faintest note of caution.
"Oh. So you're still alive."
A pause. His eyes narrowed as he studied the man before him.
"I thought the battlefield had claimed you."
The man didn't answer. He didn't need to.
His presence was answer enough.
He was Fang Yuan.
"I won't die so easily," Fang Yuan said, his voice steady as still water.
Hei Lou Lan's grin faded slightly. The weight of his presence lingered.
"The thing I asked for," Fang Yuan continued. "Where is it?"
Without a word, Hei Lou Lan reached into his sleeve and produced a small jade box. Inside, a single Gu Worm pulsed faintly, twitching like a nerve exposed to air.
"Here. Just as promised," he said.
Fang Yuan's gaze lingered on the Gu for only a moment.
Brain Explosion Gu.
He slipped it into his robes without hesitation, as if pocketing a coin.
"I heard," he said slowly, "Tai Bai Yun Sheng has made an appearance."
"How do you know him?"
Hei Lou Lan's eyes narrowed.
Hei Lou Lan didn't answer. He didn't need to.
He merely scoffed, turning his head. "Does it matter?"
A pause.
"When do you leave?" Fang Yuan asked, already knowing the answer.
"Tomorrow," Hei Lou Lan replied flatly, his tone lacking interest.
...
Northern Plains. Early December.
The wind moaned low over the icy wasteland as Hei Lou Lan stood at the head of the army, his silhouette framed against the pale sky.
His eyes, sharp as forged steel, locked onto the space before him—a space long whispered about in the legends of the Northern Plains.
The entrance to Imperial Court Blessed Land lay dormant.
Until now.
He stepped forward.
Something ancient stirred in response.
A soft golden light flickered into the frigid air—gentle at first, like a dying ember. But within moments, it surged into brilliance, forming a glowing ring of light that pulsed with ancestral power. Space trembled as the ring widened, distorting the very air around it.
Then it came—
A gate emerged, towering and immense, as though carved from heaven's bones itself. Its surface shimmered with silvery flower patterns, delicate yet precise.
Embedded across it were copper studs, large as fists, like battle-worn scars left behind by forgotten wars.
Boom.
A deep, resonant echo rolled across the plains, not from thunder—but from something inside.
It was as if an invisible hand, unseen by mortal eyes, was pulling open the ancient door from within.
The air shifted.
A thick, rich aroma of aged sandalwood flooded the senses, carrying with it the weight of centuries.
Even the falling snow froze midair, caught in the grasp of some unseen force.
Then, slowly, the snowflakes spiraled inward, drawn as if by command.
In seconds, they condensed into a gleaming ice staircase, stretching from the frozen tundra up to the hovering gateway above.
The structure was flawless—impossibly smooth, unnaturally strong.
Imperial Court Blessed Land had opened.
Hei Lou Lan's expression lit with ambition. His heart thundered beneath the cold steel of his chest, but he didn't pause.
"Imperial Court Blessed Land…" he breathed, the words escaping before he could stop them.
With purposeful strides, he climbed the ice.
One step, then the next.
He ascended with the weight of legacy and domination behind each footfall—becoming the first to cross into destiny.
Behind him, another figure stepped forward. Silent. Measured.
Fang Yuan.
A black mask veiled his face, but not his eyes—eyes that flickered with depthless calculation, utterly unshaken by the spectacle.
"Eighty-Eight True Yang Building…" he murmured inwardly.
There was no reverence in his gaze. Only Opportunity.
Without a word, he followed.
Then came Tai Bai Yun Sheng, Hao Ji Liu, and the rest of the Northern Plains elites. One by one, they passed through the ethereal gate, swallowed by the golden brilliance.
An hour later, the last soldier of the Hei tribe crossed the threshold.
As if sensing closure, the staircase of ice cracked and crumbled—shattering into stardust.
The massive red gate groaned, then slammed shut with finality.
The golden ring that held the door in place collapsed inward, shrinking to a pinprick of light——Then disappeared.
High above, hidden within drifting clouds and jagged cliffs, Gu Immortals watched in silence. Their robes whispered in the wind, their expressions carved in stone.
Some carried longing. Others regret. Most, resignation.
"They've all entered," one said softly.
And then, like the gate below, they too faded into silence.