Chapter 467: The World Within the Scrolls
Chapter 467: The World Within the Scrolls
In the bamboo scroll world.
While Transcending the Calamities, Zuo Meng opened his eyes as misty visions swirled within his gaze. He swiftly processed countless cycles of memories. Though he failed to recover his Creator-era recollections, his soul’s rank allowed him to withstand this torrent of lifetimes. Any other being would have gone mad under such memory overload, losing all sense of identity. Which of these endless reincarnations wasn’t real?
“Imperial Level.”
Zuo Meng casually ripped apart the calamity clouds with his bare hand.
Tremors shook the heavens as overwhelming power erupted from him – the hallmark of an Imperial Level existence dominating an era. For native beings, this would mark life’s ultimate peak. But for Zuo Meng, this was merely the starting line.
He threw a single punch skyward.
The firmament shattered, revealing a door-shaped void.
“Finally open.”
Through brute force alone, Zuo Meng breached the bamboo scroll world’s seal – his first escape without using worldly rules.
Within the realm:
The former Border Tribe had become the Border Wasteland Tribe. Elders trembled with excitement beneath the spreading Imperial Level Pressure. Their tribe now hosted a living legend.
A Great Emperor!
From this day, no land would be forbidden to them. Even the mighty Totem Tribe would soon bow without being asked – such was the Imperial Level’s dread authority.
“Has he truly become an Emperor?”
In the courtyard, Little Girl stared at the rippling Pressure, heart aching with emptiness. Unlike the celebrating crowd, she felt impending loss – that same hollow ache from her parents’ death long ago.
“Reaching the peak means departure, doesn’t it?”
Though unable to pierce the extraordinary phenomenon shrouding Zuo Meng, her intuition whispered truths.
“My time nears its end. Will you remember me, Grandpa Meng… perhaps…”
Her weakening breath betrayed failing vitality.
She aged faster than most, failing to reach the Thousand Mountain Realm’s five-century lifespan limit. Mortals couldn’t defy the heavens’ will – just as few ordinary people lived to 150 in this tainted world where every action wore down life’s thread.
The tribal meeting stood canceled.
Little Zun, the young leader claiming kinship to Zuo Meng, directed offerings on the mountain peak. He aimed to greet their descending ancestors properly. Since childhood conversations with Grandpa Meng, he’d never seen him again. Today’s ascension offered his best chance to reconnect.
The extraordinary phenomenon expanded with celestial might.
“True Emperor’s calamity!” exclaimed elders awaiting their chance to flatter. “Makes even Endless Realm giants and King’s Realm ancestors seem petty!”
“None can match this majesty. Only Great Emperors deserve such grandeur.”
Crack!
The split heavens released a blazing white pillar.
Golden flowers blanketed the earth as ethereal music lingered.
It seemed like light poured into the world from beyond—though this was merely an illusion. What penetrated wasn’t light but higher-dimensional energy. Creatures within this world couldn’t perceive such advanced energy, so their minds interpreted it as “light.”
“This…”
“Breaking through the barrier??!!”
The old men who’d been waiting to ride Zuo Meng’s coattails gaped in disbelief. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go! After finally becoming an Emperor, shouldn’t he stay to flaunt his power? Breaking through dimensions was what ancient Emperors did only when facing death. Why was this new Emperor so reckless?
“Disaster!”
A quick-witted elder paled.
His alarm spread, turning the others’ faces ashen. Having grown comfortable under Zuo Meng’s protection and the privileges of the Border Wasteland Tribe, what awaited them now? This was the Great Wasteland—without overwhelming strength, no tribe held resources unchallenged. The Totem Tribe alone would never tolerate their undeserved status. Dominant powers here weren’t built on hollow words.
“The Border Wasteland Tribe… is doomed,” an elder muttered.
They’d thought they’d secured a powerful patron, only for that hope to vanish before it began.
“The ancestors have ascended?”
Little Zun stood frozen. He’d envisioned founding a glorious Divine Dynasty as an Emperor’s descendant, even naming his future realm. Now his dream crumbled. Without ancestral backing, how could he protect the Wangu Tribe?
“Grandmother! Grandma Luo!”
He snapped back to reality, darting toward the tribe. No one stopped him—without Zuo Meng’s influence, he was just another junior, unworthy of their attention.
His haste proved futile.
Returning to the courtyard, he found Little Girl’s lifeless body…
Zuo Meng no longer cared about worldly affairs. The Border Wasteland Tribe and Totem Tribe were fading memories. Little Girl, his last faint connection, had passed. The rest meant nothing—even Little Zun was a forgettable face. He’d repaid Uncle Dayou’s kindness generations ago; these descendants held no claim on him.
He stepped into the ruptured void. Crushing forces pressed to expel him, but retreat was unthinkable. Time blurred until—
*Crack!*
—a crystalline snap echoed. Dizziness struck as memories flooded back. When his vision cleared, he stood by the table, bamboo scroll in hand. Its glow had dimmed, the words now silent.
“A… book world?”
Understanding dawned. His true body had never left the room—only his consciousness had plunged into the scroll’s narrative, like a reader lost in a tale. Had anyone entered, they’d have seen him standing motionless, entranced by ink on bamboo.