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Chapter 164: An Artifact Beheld By The Immortals

Wang Xuan\'s brow furrowed in contemplation; everything seemed real and yet, not. The darkness within the treasure ebbed and flowed, a stillness that was intermittently shattered, incapable of sustaining the clarity of the true inner realms. Most notably, the density of these mystical elements was much sparser than that of the genuine inner sanctums. Could it even measure up to a tenth of his own realm\'s concentration? It seemed unlikely.

Glancing back, he saw the pathway entwined with swirling black mists and white vapors, dense with mysterious patterns that wove into each other without rhyme or reason, tangled and complex.

Had the mighty earth immortals, the feathered ascetics, the Thousand-Handed True Gods—had they all fallen to this intricate trap?

Standing amidst this enigma, Wang Xuan felt his own status—insignificant as a mote of dust compared to the towering presence of those who had burst apart in their final moments.

It dawned on him in an instant; the black and white strands of the corridor were like an immense net, ensnaring the transcendent as if they were great fish, cleaving them into fragments.

And he, a mere minnow, had slipped through the vast gaps of this net.

The contrast was stark and humbling. Even the beings at the level of an earth immortal seemed like colossal prehistoric predators in comparison.

As Wang Xuan progressed, his presence seemed to slice through the surrounding gloom, as if his arrival had stirred the Inner Vision Treasure to life. The entire space began to hum, tremble, and flicker between illumination and shadow.

He felt called, lured by a lethal allure that was irresistibly drawing him nearer.

Something in the distance was awakening.

As Wang Xuan strode forward, he channeled his foundational techniques to absorb the mysterious substances around him, replenishing what he had expended not long ago. Deeper within the Inner Vision Treasure, there lay a unique region where the mystical elements cascaded like snowflakes, their concentration exponentially greater. It was this very place that beckoned, drawing one closer with an irresistible pull.

In this shadowy domain, there was a pool, its surface a repository of these elements, thick as syrup. Upon Wang Xuan’s arrival, it seemed as though a torrential downpour had begun, drenching him in a baptism of the arcane substance. The deficits he had suffered were not only restored but returned with interest.

A mist rose from the pool, enveloping him rapidly—could this be the opportunity left by the legendary immortals? In an instant, Wang Xuan sensed the importance of this mist; it followed his spirit, pierced the veil into the present world, and merged into his flesh.

This miraculous relic, left by the immortals, held the power to alter destiny—and had he just obtained it? Wang Xuan felt an inexplicable connection to his physical form, a sense of ease throughout his being, as if undergoing a wondrous transformation. It was as gentle as a celestial being tenderly straightening his bones and combing through his meridians.

This was not mere illusion, for Wang Xuan saw numerous visions, presumably the imprints left by predecessors. Every century, young elite seeds from the extraordinary planets of Oula, Heluo, and Yu Hua made their pilgrimage here, to absorb the miraculous mists and receive their baptism.

Within these imprinted memories, some were shown to have their constitutional flaws \'corrected\', their meridians reinforced, and even their organs reshaped.

For mortals, this was indeed a rewriting of destiny—from bones to internal organs, everything was combed through and optimized. Such a notion was nearly inconceivable: changing one\'s inherent nature, enhancing one\'s potential.

For those who tread the path of the old ways, this was akin to rebirth—a fundamental change that broadened the horizons for cultivators.

Wang Xuan was in awe of such a relic. He never believed in preordained fate; those who followed the old paths were constantly breaking through the established trajectories of their lives.

Through the efforts of the later days, in a race against all creation, they reshaped themselves, rewriting their destinies. This journey was inevitably lined with blood and tears, and for some, it cost their very lives.

Standing in the brilliance, looking back, one could always see the darkness that had been traversed.

Wang Xuan found himself deeply unsettled by the miraculous substance that promised to fundamentally reshape one\'s physique. Such was the technique of the immortals, it seemed, capable of remolding a person from the bones up.

Yet he paused, puzzled, as his spirit, dwelling within the Inner Vision Treasure, sensed that his physical form in the outside world—covered by the mystic mist, undergoing its baptism—remained obstinately unchanged. His bones and organs glowed with a stubborn light, resonating but not yielding to transformation.

Reacting to this resistance, Wang Xuan commenced the practice of ancient pre-Qin techniques, coupled with the art of Golden Body, and even adopted the physical exercises of Zhang Daoling. The curious mist began to disintegrate, transforming into a pure, supreme energy that he absorbed as he practiced the physical techniques from the Five Pages of the Golden Scripture.

What was the nature of this mystic fog? It seemed to unravel, consumed by him as if he were feasting, bringing a sense of wellbeing to every part of his body as though an immortal was aiding the flow of his blood, imparting a sensation of near weightlessness, as if he was on the verge of ascension.

Could it be that his very sinews and bones needed no alteration? Such a revelation would suggest that Wang Xuan\'s potential was beyond astonishing.

Wang Xuan, ever confident, had reason to be. After all, he had accessed the Inner Vision realm as a mere mortal through his own efforts! Even in the luminous age of the old ways, he would be considered an exceptional individual, scarcely mentioned in the annals of the great teachers\' courts.

Or perhaps, it was the completion of his Golden Body practice that caused his physical form to reject this mystical reformation?

If that was the case, then the seemingly simple and energetically taxing Golden Body technique held a unique value, rendering the miraculous mist ineffective.

Or maybe, the idea of using the mystic fog to reshape one\'s physical form and rewrite one\'s destiny was not inherently correct, hence his body\'s rejection of it. Wang Xuan mulled over these possibilities. He wasn\'t being arrogant; he possessed a lucid self-awareness that the methods and paths from the ancient sages of the pre-Qin era to the Daoist philosophers had undergone many changes, and the standards of old may not all hold true.

Wang Xuan felt that his body, having prematurely opened the realm of Inner Vision, exhibited some anomalies—its rejection of the mystic substance was not entirely surprising to him.

"Whatever it is, consuming it as nourishment isn\'t a loss," Wang Xuan thought, his keen senses picking up that his physique had benefited from the peculiar energy, finding it greatly advantageous to his body. He seriously considered that instead of seeking out demonic fruits, diving deeper into the recesses of the land of the dead and leveraging the strange energy within him might enable another substantial leap in strength, another breakthrough.

His gaze settled on a pool where the mysterious substance accumulated, thick as liquid. Crucially, the fog seemed to originate from within it. The true treasure that Earth Immortals, Transcendent Masters, and the Thousand-Handed Divine Beings sought was likely not the mist itself, but something at the bottom of that pool.

Should he attempt to take it?

The item that drove Earth Immortals to madness and even the Golden-Winged Great Peng coveted must have an unimaginably significant origin.

Wang Xuan glanced back at the pathway woven with dense, intersecting patterns capable of killing even beings of the Transcendent order. But such snares were not designed to trap small fish like him. Why shouldn\'t he entertain some ambition?

"I\'ll just take a look to see what it is," Wang Xuan murmured as he squatted near the pool, his body submerged in the mysterious substance. He proceeded with caution, not daring to make any rash movements, testing the waters first.

Yet, the bottom of the pool remained inscrutable, shrouded in darkness beyond sight. Even the domain of his spirit revealed nothing but void.

"I\'ll just touch it." Since he couldn\'t see, he decided to use his hand, extending his spiritual form.

As soon as Wang Xuan\'s hand entered the pool, the mysterious substance began to boil, and the entire space of the strange treasure oscillated between brilliance and darkness, trembling violently.

He turned to look back at the pathway where the various runes had become incredibly blinding, weaving incessantly. The energy of extraordinary rules had been activated; if an Earth Immortal were to barge in at that moment, they would be annihilated on the spot.

He observed the scene before him and felt a sense of indifference; the net\'s hole had not shrunk, and he could still make his exit.

Unable to contain his curiosity any longer, Wang Xuan felt an object at the bottom of the pool. It didn\'t seem to be of a spiritual nature but an actual, tangible artifact.

Could it be possible to bring a real object into the realm of Inner Vision?

The moment his fingertip brushed against it, the world around him shifted. Had he been transported back to ancient times, or had he traversed to a foreign realm?

What he saw next was staggering—the light of ascension bloomed, and figures were disintegrating amidst the cacophony of battle cries that pierced the heavens. The sky was ablaze with light, and he could see no one; the entities moved too swiftly, surpassing even the speed of thought.

Wang Xuan gasped for air, steadying his mind, as his fingertips traced the artifact, slowly moving it and altering his perceptions with it.

He felt as if he had detached from the epicenter of that world, and now, transcending it, he gazed down upon a succession of terrifying scenes.

Could it be... Immortals locked in deadly combat?

The expanse before him was obscured by veils, within which shadowy figures dominated the cosmos, their sword energies tearing through the skies. Some were slain, their blood raining down to the earth below.

Was this the world behind the veil?

Not just a single layer, but were these multiple worlds intertwining, or was it that beyond each veil lay another, layers upon layers of worlds?

A chaotic battlefield where Immortals vied for supremacy!

They were all scrambling for an artifact, shrouded in a hazy light. Whosoever claimed it sparked a frenzied pursuit from the others.

Wang Xuan was astounded. What sort of extraordinary item could incite such desperate contention among the Immortals?

He began to suspect that very artifact might be lying at the bottom of this pool.

Could the object he was touching be that very item?

Beyond the manifold veils, Wang Xuan glimpsed a red shadow, mighty and overwhelming, cutting through all like a hot knife through butter. A pair of pristine white fists swung, and all adversaries burst asunder upon impact!

The figure in red moved with an enchanting grace, yet such was her overwhelming might that all who dared to vie for the wondrous object in her grasp were brutally swept aside.

Wang Xuan\'s heart raced. Could this possibly be the Scarlet Sorceress, that same enchantress he seemed to encounter wherever he went?

He realized that this was likely a vision of her past, an imprint of events long transpired. The red shadow was formidable, but amidst the layered veils, she was not the sole terror; there were other formidable beings. A group of them charged at her, striking in unison to wrest the mysterious object from her hands.

Then, Wang Xuan found himself dumbstruck once more, suspecting he had seen another familiar figure. Amidst the ferocity of battle, a woman clad in white swept through her adversaries with ease, seizing the softly glowing artifact and darting towards the depths of the layered veils.

From a distance, her silhouette resembled the Daoist Priestess he knew.

However, her path was barred; within the myriad veils, supreme masters were no rarity. A man emerged from the deeper veils, engaging her in a fierce duel.

The battle raged, a scene of utter brutality and chaos.

Within that tumultuous struggle, Wang Xuan witnessed the Scarlet Sorceress and the Daoist Priestess clashing over the artifact, their confrontations intense and repeated.

Wang Xuan was astounded and found himself filled with anticipation. These two had crossed paths in history, and if they were to meet again in the present, surely sparks would fly.

A thunderous rumble echoed as the layered veils trembled. The supreme masters launched their full might in the chaos, jostling for the artifact. In the end, it was sent flying through the veils, piercing through to the present world.

Was this the very artifact at the bottom of the pool?

With no room for hesitation, Wang Xuan felt that having seen and touched it, he should claim it. He reached into the depths, determined to retrieve the object. To miss it would be a lifelong regret—it must be taken.

This was the treasure coveted by the extraordinary immortals behind the countless veils.

Both the Scarlet Sorceress and the Daoist Priestess had battled fiercely over it.

"Now that it has fallen into this world, it shall belong to Wang Xuan!" he proclaimed, with a resolve as unwavering as the immortals\' own.