Chapter 78: The Beginning of Harvest

“After six hundred years of development, Tai Chu Immortal Gate remained largely unchanged. For the world’s first orthodox cultivator clan, this makes no sense.” Once out of sight, Zhi Xin’er noticed many inconsistencies. Though her mother and others claimed the clan had no interest in expansion, such excuses failed to convince her.

Any clan—whether elders or disciples—needs resources to improve cultivation. Without expanding, where would those resources come from?

Returning to her quarters, Zhi Xin’er found Zhi Mo sitting on the stone platform at the entrance, staring blankly.

To the clan, Zhi Mo was an even greater genius than his sister. With his prestigious background, rare talent, and status as a core member achieved at a young age, he stood above most.

“What are you hiding?”

Zhi Mo gazed into the distance, lost in thought, unaware of Zhi Xin’er’s approach.

“You’ve noticed it too, haven’t you?” Zhi Xin’er asked, deciding it was time to discuss Tai Chu Immortal Gate, their mother, and Grandpa Xue with her brother.

Her voice startled Zhi Mo. He relaxed upon seeing it was his elder sister.

“When did you return?”

Grown-up Zhi Mo had changed—no longer the clingy younger brother from their childhood.

“Just now.”

Zhi Xin’er settled beside him.

“What did you find?”

Her tone was casual, but she knew his troubled expression meant he’d discovered something.

Zhi Mo remained silent.

“Does it involve Grandpa Xue?”

“I don’t know.”

He shook his head.

“Hu Gou’er is dead. Last I saw him was seven days ago in Tai Chu City at the mountain’s foot.”

Hu Gou’er—the little beggar who’d taken the entrance examination with Zhi Mo—was one of his few friends. The death reminded Zhi Mo of the recent letter from the father he’d never met.

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“No leads on the killer?”

“None. I tried everything. Only this was left at the scene.”

Zhi Mo pulled a brush from his sleeve and handed it over. As third-generation members of Tai Chu Immortal Gate, both recognized it. Their mother Zhi Hua had once mentioned Master Xue worked as a painter in Suzhou before founding the clan—this brush was her gift to him.

“Maybe I can help.”

Zhi Xin’er thought of her Dao partner. Though his cultivation was mediocre, he knew countless unconventional tricks. She retrieved a jade talisman, tapped it twice, and watched a message vanish into the void. Moments later, a streak of light returned.

“Meet me tomorrow. We’ll uncover the truth then.”

She pressed the jade talisman, her voice firm.

Jade talisman messaging?

Zhi Mo eyed the talisman on her wrist curiously but asked nothing, simply nodding.

Night.

White Jade Pavilion.

Zuo Meng stood atop the White Jade Pavilion, his human aura fading steadily. Over the years, the Creator’s divinity within him had grown stronger. Though still concealed within Xue Chuan’s physical form, his essence had fundamentally changed. Nearing full awakening and true integration with this era, Zuo Meng clearly sensed he would reap far greater feedback from this epoch than the previous two.

“It begins.”

Zuo Meng’s fingers grazed the fabric of cosmic laws with featherlight touch.

Silent nourishment.

This subtle technique learned during current era far surpassed the crude world-destroying methods of prior epochs. An invisible force merged with universal principles, violently accelerating the final cataclysm originally due in a century. Faint spiritual essences began flowing into Zuo Meng’s true Creator form rather than Xue Chuan’s mortal shell.

Within Tai Chu Immortal Gate’s Sitting Forget Peak, a yawning young disciple scavenged for midnight snacks. Not all disciples could achieve fasting – novices and less talented members still required food like ordinary people, despite basic body-strengthening cultivation.

“What’s this?”

The disciple nibbled a stolen bun when he noticed palm-sized darkness coalescing on the stove. Moonlight failed to illuminate its true nature. Remembering storytellers’ tales of fortuitous encounters, he impulsively reached out.

His hand phased through the black mass into voidspace. Terrifying suction yanked him forward.

“Hel—”

The protest died as shadows swallowed him whole. The dark blotch quivered before vanishing. Simultaneously, identical shadows appeared across Tai Chu Immortal Gate, Great Chu territory, barbarian wilds, demon realms, and Golden Ant colonies – consuming all touchers indiscriminately.

At Blessed Ground’s pinnacle, Zuo Meng absorbed countless spiritual lights – billions of lives. After prolonged integration, every practitioner of his cultivation methods became harvest fodder. Unlike Demon Monk Jie Ming of Cold Mountain Temple who glimpsed Zuo Meng’s true form before death, these victims perished unknowingly.

As luminous specks merged with him, Zuo Meng’s aura grew transcendent. Layers accumulated within him:

Time’s sediment;

Fleeting humanity;

Overwhelming apathy.

This era’s yield surpassed previous cycles, proving individual effort’s limits against a world’s boundless potential.

Dawn revealed Zhi Mo searching nine Outer Sect peaks – all deserted. The tenth empty compound confirmed his dread. Fleeing to Inner Sect zones, he found half the population missing. Eeriest of all, remaining cultivators practiced routines unchanged, utterly oblivious to the disappearances.

“Where is everyone? What catastrophe occurred?!”