Chapter Seventy-Seven: The Chaotic Imperial Serpent

Flame Burst? This skill is impressive—it deducts health based on percentage. Zhou Tian remembered that in the beginning, there was a skill in his repertoire that also reduced health by a percentage, about ten percent if he recalled correctly. This Flame Burst only deducts five percent, but it can be stacked on the same target, unlike the earlier skill. However, Flame Burst can be dodged; each has its strengths. Zhou Tian’s gaze darted among the three skills, and ultimately he focused his attention on Flame Burst. Golden light solidified, and the information of Flame Burst surfaced in his mind.

He chose his perennial test subject: the wooden bedside table. With a wave of his hand, a fist-sized ball of orange flame emerged out of thin air, filling the room with a wave of heat. Sweat droplets began to bead on his forehead. Feeling the rising temperature, Zhou Tian set his sights on the table before him.

Whoosh!

The fireball floated through the air toward the table—not exactly swift, nor particularly slow.

Bang!

The fireball touched the table and instantly ignited, flames blazing fiercely. Yet, strangely, the fire only burned in a small spot. Zhou Tian watched as that spot charred and then disintegrated to ash.

Well… how to describe it? Zhou Tian felt the skill was just so-so. Though it seemed powerful, the percentage-based health deduction looked like you could annihilate someone with twenty fireballs, but reality was far more complicated. Zhou Tian’s math wasn’t taught by a PE teacher; even if ten thousand fireballs struck a person, it wouldn’t kill them outright. The reason lay in the percentage deduction itself—the skill’s strength and its weakness.

Even if someone had only one percent of their health left, the fireball would only reduce five percent of that remaining one percent.

Still, it counted as an offensive skill, better than the other two. After reaching the third level, the next upgrade required eight deaths, which wouldn’t happen for a while. He would have to pin his hopes on the Land Forsaken by the Gods.

Having completed this long-prepared task, Zhou Tian breathed a sigh of relief, lay on his bed, and drifted into a deep sleep.

In the heart of the Celestial Pass, within an ancient bronze palace, divine lights danced through the air. At the center stood a bronze round table, atop which hovered a crystal of exquisite clarity, cloud-like energies swirling ceaselessly. Around the table were eight bronze chairs—no more, no less. At this moment, only the chair to the right of the crystal was occupied. The person wore a gray Daoist robe; white hair and brows framed a youthful, rosy complexion, his eyes seeming to contain the locks of nine heavens, fixed upon the crystal before him.

Within the crystal, endless runes floated. Suddenly, a portion of the runes blazed with golden light, forming a symbol. The Daoist frowned, and with a flick of his hand, a fragmented rune plate appeared. A cascade of divine radiance flickered.

In an instant, the previously empty seven chairs suddenly filled with figures—Daoists whose auras were as grand as the sun, resembling ancient deities.

"Mingzhen, what summons us here?" asked the figure seated in the south, cloaked in Buddhist light.

"The Celestial Pass has detected an anomaly; we must activate the probing formation," replied the first Daoist.

"Very well," said the figure in Buddhist light, producing a rune plate. It was merely a matter of using the Pass’s formation for investigation; no reason to hesitate. The others followed suit. Eight fragmented rune plates combined, divine radiance soared skyward, runes intertwined, and the crystal atop the bronze table seemed injected with boundless energy, countless runes pouring forth. The entire bronze palace gleamed, formation lines extending into the void.

All eight channeled energy simultaneously, the runes within the crystal recombining.

Boom!

An unimaginable scene appeared within the crystal: in the midst of endless void storms, a colossal serpent prowled. Its size defied description, its scales pitch black. Even the storms capable of tearing saints asunder struck its scales, leaving not the slightest mark. Its soul-capturing eyes gleamed, tongue flicking out to shatter patches of space, thickening the nearby void storms.

"The Chaos Emperor Serpent!"

The Marquis of Literature, seated in the north, frowned. This was one of the few remaining beast kings in these void storms, bearing the bloodline of lord-level void beasts, immensely powerful—top-tier among king beasts. They had searched for it in vain before, and now it had appeared unexpectedly.

"This..."

The bronze palace shone brightly as the eight wardens deliberated deep into the night.

The next morning, Zhou Tian received news: their departure had been moved up—set for today.

"Wasn’t it supposed to be tomorrow? Why the sudden change?" Zhou Tian asked Zhou Ying, who led the way. The group hurried behind him toward the departure point.

"The Celestial Pass detected a massive energy entity moving in the void storms outside the Land Forsaken by the Gods. It’s suspected to be a void beast. If we leave any later, there’s a high chance we’ll encounter it—far too troublesome. So the schedule has been advanced," Zhou Ying explained without turning her head.

"A void beast? Weren’t they cleared out by the Eight Provinces Alliance?" Zhang Yi asked with a frown. He’d seen records indicating that, at first, the void storms surrounding the Land Forsaken by the Gods were rife with beasts, and the storms themselves were already exceedingly dangerous—a place of certain death.

Later, the Eight Provinces Alliance deployed their strongest, spending ages nearly exterminating the beasts, forging a path through the void storms.

"Most of the beasts—over ninety percent—were slain back then. But some slipped through, especially the beast kings with deep roots and powerful divine abilities. They’re adept at avoiding misfortune, and some rival the top experts of the Eight Provinces. Their deliberate concealment made them impossible to find, so the matter was left unresolved."

"But they fear another alliance and purge, so although sightings have increased in recent years, there’s been no harm caused. The Eight Provinces have let them be, since mobilizing forces for another hunt would require immense resources," Zhou Ying explained.

Everyone nodded in understanding.

Zhou Ying led them toward the city gates of the Celestial Pass.

Beyond the gates stretched a broad road, both sides lined with assorted vehicles—like a port. Among them was the black sailboat they’d seen upon arrival, merely one variety. High risk, high reward: these void ferrymen earned thousands of divine crystals per trip, but the dangers were equally great.

The major powers of the Eight Provinces naturally used the finest ancient ships. At the end of the road, seven massive, ancient vessels floated in the void. Their designs differed somewhat, but their appearance was similar—nearly a hundred feet tall, stretching close to a thousand feet in length, crafted from unknown materials, entirely black, with mysterious silver runes engraved along the hull.

Upon each ship rose three masts, their sails fashioned from beast hide, adorned with golden scales, intricate and enigmatic runes swirling across their surfaces.