Chapter 485: Chapter 485
Chapter 485: Chapter 480: The Loess Whistle
Baili An couldn’t tell if her nature was what one might call clear-cut love and hate.
However, having received her words, Baili An also felt quite relieved. At least, before Su Jing repaid his debts to her twice over, there was no need to worry about being executed by her Emotion Slayer Sword.
The Heavenly Ghosts were restless and eager to move.
The old crone leaning on her walking stick lingered her gaze on the two of them for a long time and suddenly called out, “Jing’er.”
Su Jing surveyed the darkness of the forest and calmly said, “You needn’t worry, the Great Cold Era has ended.”
The old woman was stunned for a moment, not quite grasping his words: “What…”
A gentle breeze came through, rustling the leaves.
The thick roots protruding from the ground seemed to come alive, one by one entering the earth like serpents, taking root and growing steadily.
The chill of the forest breeze was honed by the sounds of the copper leaves, bringing a sharp edge to the wind’s voice.
The old woman couldn’t help but slowly widen her eyes, her aged, sagging skin quivering excitedly like withered leaves.
Having guarded under the Bronze Tree for so many days, she knew well the severity of the cold winds here and wouldn’t mistake the sharpness as mere illusion from the wind.
In flowing green robes, swords arose among the trees.
The old woman saw that behind the young man, two figures had emerged, unknown from which deep shadows of the forest they had come.
Clearly, the old woman had not sensed any presence beforehand, and surrounded by layers of Heavenly Ghosts, no one could have penetrated the perimeter.
So how did these two simply appear here, seemingly from thin air?
The old woman didn’t know what had happened, but at the same time, she understood that these two were no ordinary people.
For she saw in the eyes of the War Ghosts, the wariness and respect they had for these two.
In this glorious Bronze world, the beings who command respect from the four War Ghosts of the Heavenly Ghost clan…
The answer was quite obvious.
The old woman held her breath, struck by a wave of utter astonishment.
How could the great beings within the Divine Tree be here?!
As her shock remained unsettled, a terrifying figure suddenly darted beneath the young man whose cultivation was quite unimpressive to behold.
A massive black wolf burst forth, its body wrapped in nether flames, its proud and indifferent eyes reflecting twin moons as it howled to the sky!
The old woman was nearly unable to stand steady in its howling, her pale hair trembling violently: “Nether… Netherworld Wolf?!”
The Netherworld Wolf also belonged to the Heavenly Ghost clan and was certainly a peak existence.
The War Ghost roared angrily, casting a gloomy gaze at the two people behind Baili An, but ultimately dared not act rashly any longer.
The chillness of the world began to dissipate gradually.
The terrifying Great Cold Era that shocked both gods and demons hadn’t ultimately fully descended.
The Netherworld Wolf, quite dissatisfied, lay low on the ground, its eyes full of complaints.
Named Li Ji, the Huaxu, though similar in appearance to those within the Bronze Tree, brought a pure sharpness to the world when standing beneath it, like an unsurpassed Divine Weapon unearthed.
He no longer needed the power of faith provided by human Cultivator’s daily sacrifices to sustain his Divinity.
Merely standing there, one could feel the clarity of Divine Intent, surviving through the name.
His mood was unprecedentedly good, having even volunteered, “Lord Si Chen, do you require Li Ji to clear away these Heavenly Ghosts to pave the way forward?”
The War Ghost brimmed with rage, his eyes sharply envious of those beings who lived above on Divine Paths of light.
It was true good fortune, clad in imperial purple qi, that amidst the terrifying disaster of the Great Cold Era, there had been those to bestow names upon them, granting freedom and Divinity.
This meant that from this day forward, the newly named Huaxu and Xihe were not just part of this world. Their future Divinity and worship wouldn’t need to merge halfway with this world. In fact, it wouldn’t be long on this continent before they would have no natural enemies.
With his name given, Huaxu was no longer rootless.
If he were determined to eradicate the Heavenly Ghosts, it was certainly not impossible.
The War Ghost looked at the Netherworld Wolf who had turned against its own, his heart boiling with hatred but helpless to act.
The Heavenly Ghosts, born to kill, tread an endless path of slaughter. In the eyes of these compassionate beings imbued with Divine Intent, they were monsters unworthy of life. Even the Dao Demons of the darkness rejected the existence of the Heavenly Ghosts.
Among Heavenly Ghosts, there was no sense of race, let alone the capacity for symbiosis. To survive, they could band together for warmth, launching raids, invasions, and fights against other species.
But they would never entrust their backs to their own kind; to survive, they could also tear into the flesh of their companions to strengthen themselves.
Thus, in the very ancient history when the Bronze Gate still had its master’s hand upon it, beings born with slaughter as their instinct, like the Heavenly Ghosts, had none who wished to bestow names.
For the Ancient Gods, receiving a name was already a luxury. As for the Heavenly Ghosts, such a hope was not even a thought they dared to entertain.
The War Ghost couldn’t help but look enviously at the Netherworld Wolf.
Humans, fearful of the Great Cold Era’s arrival, had named it, and henceforth, it no longer had to endure the torture of hunger or the hardship of survival.
He knew this battle’s turn of events was set to become an important turning point in the downfall of their Heavenly Ghosts clan, his heart full of reluctance, yet he refused to simply lay down and die.
The War Ghost didn’t regard death as homecoming; his heart was resigned, yet eerily calm.
He drew a black horn, curved and long like your stream, from his tattered robe and started blowing it in a rough, mournful tone.
It was like the commencement of a tragic war overture.
The heavy, wailing horn abruptly cut off.
The War Ghost’s horn was slapped forcefully out of his mouth by a hand.
He looked coldly at the young man before him, electricity flickering icily upon the sharp tip.
He saw the young man rub his head quite vexedly, seemingly complaining, “Can’t you guys live without fighting?”
The War Ghost was stunned.
In his heart, he knew that if Heavenly Ghosts couldn’t fight, they really would die.
What a foolish question he’d asked.
Baili An’s small bag of sweet cakes had long been eaten, and this Heavenly Ghost had a look of shrewdness, clearly not as easily fooled by food as the black pup was.
Racking his brains and ultimately failing to come up with anything better, he reluctantly resorted to empty flattery, “Travelers blow flutes on the plains of Long; if you like it, from now on, you shall be called Long Flute.”
The War Ghost stupidly raised his head, his throat moving involuntarily, unable to grasp the situation for a long while and feeling as if the relentless killing intent in his chest was crumbling away, leaving only a forlorn and pitiable shell, looking stiffly at the young man.
The terrifying electric flames on the sharp tip just dispersed with the wind.