Chapter 74: A Stone

The extreme northern wasteland, located even farther north than the Tai Chu Immortal Gate, was a desolate place where few humans had ever set foot. Even plants were scarce here, and the soil bore a deep crimson hue.

When Zuo Meng first undertook the Creation, he had aimed to craft a world resembling the primordial chaos. Yet due to insufficient perception, he ended up creating a flawed ancient world. When that epoch met its end, Zuo Meng destroyed the world entirely. After its fragments reformed, they became the foundation for later civilizations. Over countless eras and societal shifts, the four polar regions—north, south, east, and west—remained untouched. It wasn’t that people didn’t wish to explore them, but these lands had been forgotten during the initial rule-setting. In religious terms, this was a god-forsaken land where even plants couldn’t survive, let alone humans.

Today, this rarely visited forsaken land welcomed a group of the world’s most formidable strong individuals.

Seventeen surges of powerful energy hovered mid-air, their gazes fixed on the cliff ahead. Leading them was the Emperor of Chu, a Transformation God cultivator whose might alone could stabilize the realm. Even with him away from the capital, Great Chu remained unshaken—a testament to both its strength and the inherent flaws of an Immortal Cultivators’ dynasty.

“Seventeen Transformation God cultivators.”

Zuo Meng raised an eyebrow. It seemed Great Chu had hidden reserves of power.

“After all these years, Senior Xue remains unchanged.”

National Master Zhang He’s expression shifted slightly upon seeing Zuo Meng. Though he’d heard of Master Xue emerging from Closed Door Meditation, witnessing the man’s unchanged appearance after six centuries was startling. While the lifespan of Transformation God cultivators was mysterious, six hundred years without a single trace of aging was extraordinary. Every other Transformation God Realm expert present bore subtle marks of time’s passage.

“Master Xue’s vigor endures,” the Emperor of Chu greeted with a casual clasped-hand gesture, the deference of old replaced by the confidence of Great Chu’s dominance. He turned to National Master Zhang He. “How could someone of Master Xue’s cultivation rank third on the Heaven List? Your rankings lack credibility, National Master.”

The Three Lists—Heaven, Earth, and Man—were established by the court. While National Master Zhang He publicly managed the rankings, everyone knew the Emperor’s approval was final. The subtext was clear.

“This old Daoist based the rankings on verifiable achievements,” National Master Zhang He replied with a shallow bow. “Master Xue vanished for six centuries. Keeping him at the top would invite public doubt. Should he demonstrate even a fraction of his power today, I’ll naturally restore him to first place, silencing the fools’ gossip.”

Their words masqueraded as apology but served as provocation, testing whether six centuries of seclusion had weakened Zuo Meng.

Eyes closed, Zuo Meng lounged like an idle immortal, utterly ignoring them.

*Fame?*

*I shaped this world. These ants think to bait me with petty reputation games?*

A flicker of darkness crossed the Emperor of Chu’s gaze.

Great Chu’s supremacy had lasted too long.

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The Emperor had nearly forgotten the sting of defiance. This “Master Xue” reignited his killing intent—not for personal grievance, but because no true ruler tolerates an uncontrollable power within their domain.

“I’ll scout below,” announced Prince Xing Zhao Zheng, who’d remained silent after his initial nod to Zuo Meng. His current position as Heaven List’s top ranker made his allegiance clear.

“Hm?” Zuo Meng’s interest stirred. What he’d assumed to be political theater might hold substance—even Transformation God-level energy couldn’t penetrate the cliff’s depths, blocked by some unknown force.

“We’ll descend together. Demon Emperor?” The Chu King ignored Zuo Meng, turning to the tiger-headed demon emperor who’d stood apart in silence.

“No objections.” The demon emperor’s gruff voice rumbled. His comically oversized tiger head belied ruthless cunning. Demon tribes respected only strength, and their emperor had clawed his way to power through carnage.

Beneath the Abyss

A Golden Ant peered upward, hatred burning in its compound eyes as it scuttled back into shadows. Miasma veiled the abyss from above, but the ants below saw everything. Their queen’s capital sprawled in the subterranean darkness—a civilization of human-sized Golden Ants with razor-sharp limbs and golden scales impervious to blades.

At the capital’s heart loomed a palace complex. Within its central hall sprawled a twenty-meter-long Ant Queen, her aura eclipsing even the fiercest guarding monsters.

“Intruders return, Majesty,” reported a scout, pressed flat by the queen’s oppressive aura.

Blood-red eyes flared.

“DEATH TO TRESPASSERS!”

“FOR THE ANCIENT DEITIES!”

The shriek reverberated through the colony. Every Golden Ant froze mid-task, then erupted in savage roars. These semi-sentient mutants lacked magical arts but wielded primal ferocity and near-invulnerability—a nightmare for any Immortal Cultivator.

Zuo Meng observed with newfound curiosity.

*These ants aren’t my creation.*

*Did life evolve spontaneously? Or…*

His perception pierced the miasma, locking onto an altar behind the ant palace. There lay a stone—one he’d personally Sealed.