The altar in the Forest of Ten Thousand Withered Bones shattered completely. Before the golden dust kicked up by the fall of the Cloud-Ascension Throne's avatar could even settle, the very sky of the mortal realm began to vibrate violently.
CRACK—!
A golden rift, spanning thousands of miles, tore open at the zenith of the firmament. This was no mere omen of a spiritual descent; it was the Cloud-Ascension Throne's true form, disregarding the laws of planetary rejection, forcibly wedging his divine body into the mortal plane. Golden divine pressure poured down like the weight of a billion tons, instantly turning every living thing within a hundred miles into a mist of blood.
"Li'er, move!"
Cang Yaochen let out a low, thundering growl. His demonic frame, now fused with the War God's spine, erupted with waves of dark-gold energy, forcibly carving out a small sanctuary of barely a few feet. He scooped Jiang Li up by her waist, his double pupils locked onto the bottomless black well revealed by the collapsing altar.
That was the Void Anchor—struck open by the final sliver of the Asura War God's soul ten thousand years ago. It led straight to a place beyond the Three Realms: The Forbidden Zone of Gods.
"That's a land of death! If we go in, we might never come back!" Jiang Li's lips were stained with blood, and the Mirror of Profound Inquiry in her hand wailed under the pressure of a True Throne.
"Staying in the mortal realm means dying now!"
Cang Yaochen did not hesitate. The dark-gold phantasm behind him slammed its palms together, enveloping them both as they transformed into a streak of destructive light, plunging headlong into the black well.
The moment they entered, a golden divine hand—large enough to blot out the sun—slammed down upon the Forest of Ten Thousand Withered Bones.
BOOM—!
The entire forest was leveled in an instant, ten thousand acres of bone ground into fine powder. The Cloud-Ascension Throne's golden eyes, burning with fury, looked down into the deep well, only to find the spatial tunnel had completely collapsed under the War God's final act of self-destruction.
"The Forbidden Zone of Gods... you think hiding in that wasteland abandoned by the Heavens will save you?" The Throne's cold snort shattered the surrounding void. "I shall wait at the exit. Let's see how long you two ants can endure!"
Jiang Li felt a violent spinning sensation, followed by an oppressive, absolute silence.
There was no light here, no wind, not even a trace of spiritual or demonic energy to be sensed. Beneath her feet lay a wasteland as cold and hard as obsidian; above, the sky was an eternal dark purple, suspended with countless shards of broken divine weapons and the gargantuan remains of ancient gods.
"This is... the Forbidden Zone?"
Jiang Li struggled to stand, her body feeling as though it weighed a thousand tons. Here, all cultivation was suppressed to the limit by an invisible rule; even the glow of the Mirror of Profound Inquiry was reduced to the dim flicker of a firefly.
Cang Yaochen lay not far away. The War God's spine in his back emitted a faint, cold light—the only source of illumination in this wasteland. The newly fused vertebrae shifted restlessly beneath his skin, making a series of gut-wrenching clicks.
"Priest, how are you?" Jiang Li stumbled toward him.
Cang Yaochen rolled over, the dark-gold luster in his double pupils having faded, replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion. He looked at Jiang Li and managed a pale, wry smile. "Not dead yet... but this place feels like it's drinking my life force."
He wasn't the only one; Jiang Li felt it too. The air here contained a power known as "Oblivion." It didn't harm the flesh, but it slowly gnawed away at the soul.
"If it's a forbidden zone, there must be a way to stay alive." Jiang Li gritted her teeth and propped him up, her gaze fixed on the distance.
At the edge of that dark purple sky, a withered mountain made of countless ruined divine temples was faintly visible. At the peak, a dim, ancient bronze lamp emitted a tiny halo of light—the only place in this land of death that held a flicker of vitality.
"There." Jiang Li pointed to the mountain.
Supporting each other, they walked across the wasteland where even gods feared to tread. Occasionally, weathered shadows of deities drifted past, emitting shrill wails—lonely souls banished here by the Heavenly Dao ten thousand years ago, eventually succumbing to the silence.
As they neared the foot of the mountain, a voice so ancient it was almost genderless echoed hollowly from the rows of ruined temples:
"Three thousand years... finally, someone has entered carrying the Mirror of Causality. Have you come to lose your lives, or to seek a way to live?"
As the voice fell, a withered old man, wrapped in black sackcloth and standing at a temple entrance, slowly raised his head. Where his eyes should have been were two hollow pits, yet they seemed to pierce through all of Jiang Li and Cang Yaochen's past and present lives.