A Pawn's Passage

Behind the two arms, the head of a man emerged from the portal.

His features were stern, his expression indifferent, showing not the slightest fluctuation.

Following the head came the neck, chest, abdomen, and legs.

The man braced himself against the doorframe, forcing his body through the portal bit by bit.

In terms of size, he was at most broad and well-built, still within human proportions, nowhere near the colossal being like Master Wan.

However, the pressure he exuded far surpassed that of Master Wan.

Sage Qingwei gazed at the man and slowly said, “So, it truly is the Sakka.”

At this moment, Sage Qingwei did not think of striking, nor did he have the energy for a moral reproach.

After all, Sage Qingwei knew that Qi Xuansu was just a pawn who had no control over himself, let alone the situation. Blaming the player behind the pawn was equally pointless because moral reproach carried little weight if one could not win on the battlefield.

Just as killing Qi Xuansu in Izanagi’s divine kingdom would have been a muddled affair, so too was his summoning of the Sakka. It was such a messy account that the matter could be argued back and forth for years among the Golden Tower Council.

Though Qi Xuansu had guessed as much, hearing Sage Qingwei confirm it still sent a shock through his heart.

The legendary Sakka was the pinnacle of the creation projects, hailed as the manmade god.

The creation of gods itself was nothing new. The Holy Court believed that the Apostles were shaped by the Supreme Will. But a god created by humans was unprecedented. The Holy Court would never dare imagine such a feat, as they believed that creation belonged solely to the Supreme Will, and any attempt to breach that line was blasphemy. The Arcane Council once nurtured such grand ambitions, but the Holy Court crushed them mercilessly in their cradle.

The Daoist Order accomplished this feat. From the time the Ancient Gezao Sect first proposed the Eight Tribes plan, to Elder Xu’s initial construction of the Sakka, and then to the Daoists perfecting the Sakka’s form, it took over five centuries to reach completion.

It was a showcase of man triumphing over the heavens, and one of the root reasons the West instinctively hated the Daoists. This was a clash in ideology.

When the Sakka emerged, he merely looked toward Sage Qingwei, who was encircled by nine dragons. The Sakka made no move, yet Sage Qingwei felt threatened, as though facing a mortal enemy.

At the same time, Qi Xuansu felt a mysterious link between himself and the Sakka. He could clearly sense the boundless might contained within the Sakka, yet that power had nothing to do with him.

It was as though a child were trying to operate an enormous mechanical puppet. Moving the levers was exhausting, which only allowed for the simplest of commands.

This was the greatest difference between the Sakka and the Three Yin Beings. The Sakka never developed independent consciousness, nor could he become a free entity as the Three Yin Beings had.

Qi Xuansu finally breathed a sigh of relief, regaining a measure of confidence.

He had even prepared his last words to threaten Sage Qingwei if all things were to go south. “If I die, Madam Qi will make sure to drive the Taiping Sect into chaos for years to come!”

But on second thought, he realized that relying on his mother’s fierceness was hardly something to be proud of.

In truth, he rather wished to say, “If I die here, I fear you will not leave this place alive either.”

But after some consideration, he let the thought pass, as he clearly had no strength to say such words. What he sought was survival, not a contest of tempers.

After all, as long as he lived through this, there would always be a day he could grow strong enough for vengeance.

There was still so much more to life, so it would be unwise to make an irreconcilable enemy of Sage Qingwei. So, Qi Xuansu knew to show proper courtesy and leave some room for maneuver.

He recalled a saying that credit belonged to the superiors when a task was done well, but if it yielded average results, it belonged to the group, and mistakes often rested on an individual. Just as official and personal matters should be kept separate, so should grudges remain distinct.

In the end, Qi Xuansu merely said, “Sage Commander, I fear you may suffer a mishap in this perilous place, so I came to assist you.”

Sage Qingwei stared fixedly at him for a while before finally conceding. “Very well.”

Qi Xuansu lowered his head slightly, avoiding the Sage’s piercing gaze. “The Heavenly Preceptor and the Earthly Preceptor are both eager to learn of Izanagi’s secrets. No doubt, the Imperial Preceptor is keen as well. So we’d best move quickly lest our delay brings about any changes.”

Sage Qingwei was silent for a moment before saying, “My energy has been greatly depleted after fighting battle after battle. So I appreciate you for coming to my aid. You may lead the way, Tian Yuan.”

Qi Xuansu turned his gaze toward Master Yin.

Though Little Yin was a troublemaker, Master Yin was an excellent advisor and strategist.

Master Yin gave a slight nod, so Qi Xuansu directed Sakka toward a towering mountain.

Sage Qingwei wielded the Mountain Whip, and the mountain slowly dissolved away.

By now, Izanagi’s figure had vanished. Only a single portal remained, along with a black-covered bound book placed directly in the path of entry. Its cover bore a grinning skull and a dark sun, with twisted patterns symbolizing torment and chaos. It had gilded hinges and clasps, as well as a sturdy golden lock. This was unmistakably the Scripture of Zuriel.

When Taurinus had delivered the Scripture of Zuriel, he had undone the lock and clasps. Thus, the book still lay open, its cover turned outward, and its pages faced the portal.

That was precisely why Sage Qingwei did not advance. The influence of the Scripture of Zuriel was simply too great. One careless glance, and he might be forced into battle with the Sakka. Though the chance was slim, and the Holy Court could reseal the book, with the treachery of Apostle Zuriel as precedent, Sage Qingwei dared not take such a risk.

Since the Sakka had no consciousness of his own, he was immune to the book’s sway. At Qi Xuansu’s thought, the Sakka picked up the Scripture of Zuriel, shut its cover, and refastened the golden lock.

Qi Xuansu said, “Sage, this dangerous artifact is called the Scripture of Zuriel, so it’s best to let the Sakka safeguard it.”

To entrust it to the Sakka was equivalent to handing it to the Earthly Preceptor.

Sage Qingwei was silent for a moment but voiced no objection. He was still wrapped in the yellow aura of the Northern Dragon, so he strode straight toward the portal Izanagi had left behind.

Without a doubt, this gateway led to Yomi-no-Kuni.

Dragon veins were the breath of the human realm, able to shield against heavenly tribulation and disperse yin energy. With the Northern Dragon’s protection, Sage Qingwei could thus ignore the heavy yin energy and venture deep into Yomi.

The Earthly Preceptor’s voice rang out again. “Follow him.”

Qi Xuansu had no choice but to direct the Sakka to trail Sage Qingwei.

Thankfully, Qi Xuansu did not need to follow suit in person.

Then, the same cold, emotionless female voice resounded. “Activating Celestial View.”

It was a strange sensation. Qi Xuansu’s perception and spirit seemed to be split in two. One remained with his true body beside the Three Yin Beings outside the portal, while the other half floated up, gazing down upon the Sakka. However, this higher vantage point was fixed. He could not move freely and was bound to the Sakka’s every step.

In that instant, Qi Xuansu finally understood why it was called the Celestial View.

He was not seeing things through the Sakka’s perspective, but rather treating the Sakka as a piece on the chessboard, something to be maneuvered while he could remain a detached, clear-sighted observer.

Perhaps the Heavenly Preceptor and the Earthly Preceptor viewed Qi Xuansu in the very same way at the moment, surveying the entire chessboard with an even broader perspective.

Beyond the portal lay Yomi-no-Kuni.

It was much like the Ghost Kingdom, but the yin energy here was several times denser. It was a true land of the dead, where no living being could survive.

Even Immortals and gods who entered would be severely weakened, forced to burn through their energy merely to stave off the yin energy’s erosion.

According to the tales of the Holy Court, before the Supreme Will descended with their gospel to cleanse the mortal world and before the Holy Court even existed, there were once two gods—the God of Light and the God of Death. The former ruled Heaven and Earth, and the latter ruled the Netherworld.

The God of Light, wielding supreme might, forced the God of Death into submission, driving him into the Netherworld. Then the God of Light invaded the Netherworld with divine power. But the deeper he went, the weaker he grew under its oppressive influence, while the God of Death, who was one with the Netherworld, only grew stronger.

The God of Death, fortified by his realm, had layers of resistance. By the time the God of Light reached the core, he was already gravely weakened. Their clash ended with both gods perishing, which opened the path for the Holy Court’s rise.

That Netherworld was a place much like Yomi-no-Kuni, saturated with yin energy. Except for rare deities gifted to harness yin energy, all others would be drastically weakened. This was why the Great Xuan Emperor lent the Imperial Succession Seal to Sage Qingwei so that he could call upon the Northern Dragon to pit the power of the human realm against the dense yin energy, not only replenishing Sage Qingwei’s strength but shielding him from erosion.

This was also why Tsukuyomi, though nominally the master of Yomi-no-Kuni, never dared to step into it.

The Sakka was unaffected because he was not considered a living being, as he had been transformed from a corpse.

The two entered Yomi-no-Kuni one after the other. Wherever they looked, it was nothing but endless yin energy.

It was an abandoned divine kingdom whose master had long departed, leaving it to fall into Izanagi’s hands.

Legends spoke of ghostly soldiers and maidens once dwelling here, but now they had all vanished.

However, because incense power and faith had not ceased, the divine kingdom still continued to operate.

Sage Qingwei carefully attuned himself to this place.

Slowly, he began to grasp the essence of resurrection within this realm.

Sage Qingwei pressed forward, making his way toward the very heart of the divine kingdom.

The Sakka followed close behind him, like a silent guardian.

As Sage Qingwei advanced, the suffocating fog parted to either side, gradually forming a clear path. At the end of that path, something began to take shape.

It was a colossal corpse, no less grand than Izanagi’s golden body.

Or rather, it was an empty husk of a golden body, like a cicada’s cast-off shell, retaining the form but lacking a spirit.

The husk had grown dim with age, yet bore no sign of rot or decay.

It was the corpse of a woman, and it bore a faint resemblance to Izanagi.

Sage Qingwei whispered in shock, “Izanami?”