Chapter 1202: Revisiting the Gods

Chapter 1202: Gazing Upon the Divine Once More

The scene unfolding along the path back to the Dao Refining Universe was, for Xu Qing, merely a minor interlude.

Since Star Ring Zi had stepped forward, Xu Qing saw no need to reveal himself.

To him, whether it was Qian Jun Bi Yi or Star Ring Zi—they were but passing figures, transient as clouds.

At most, those two swords would simply be retrieved by him when the time was right.

However, the three cultivators who harbored malice toward Qian Jun Bi Yi did catch Xu Qing’s attention.

Among them were two Sovereigns and one Quasi-Immortal.

Their greed and domineering arrogance were unmistakable in every word and gesture.

Xu Qing had never believed that profound cultivation necessarily implied transcendent character. In this vast world teeming with countless cultivators—strong ones as numerous as stars—their personalities could never all conform to a single mold.

Such was the nature of human conduct.

Some were gloomy and reserved; others lofty and detached. There were those like the Sword-Wielding Emperor, whose heart embraced the heavens and earth, and naturally, there were also those steeped in shadowy greed and ill intent.

Even at the level of Quasi-Immortal, this held true.

After all, they were still human—and humanity, in its infinite variety, could never be uniform.

Moreover, due to differences in population base and environment, the number of Quasi-Immortals in the Fifth Star Ring was considerable.

Unlike Wanggu Continent, where even Sovereigns were as rare as phoenix feathers amidst hardship and barrenness, let alone Quasi-Immortals.

Thus, the higher one climbed, the more mountain ranges one beheld.

The farther one journeyed, the more complete the vista became.

This was only natural.

Of course, at its core, one’s disposition was deeply tied to time and experience.

Unless one had lived for thousands or even tens of thousands of years—enduring again and again the joys and sorrows of mortal life until numbness set in, until clarity emerged, until one returned to simplicity and truth—it was difficult to escape the hues painted by human nature.

Furthermore, some matters could not be judged by appearances alone.

Therefore, Xu Qing was not surprised that these three, despite being powerful cultivators—one even a Quasi-Immortal—would stoop to acts of plunder.

What did surprise him was their identity.

“Provision Gatherers… war…”

As Xu Qing departed the Void Belt, these words echoed in his mind.

It was the word “war” that weighed heaviest.

“Gathering provisions for war… so is there war within the Fifth Star Ring?”

“Against other star rings?”

Xu Qing pondered deeply.

There were truths one could not fully grasp without standing at a certain height—this matter made that painfully clear.

Before now, Xu Qing had known nothing of war in the Fifth Star Ring.

But from the murmurs of others, he now caught the scent of impending conflict.

“When the moment comes for the Summoning of the Conduit Universe, all shall become clear.”

With this thought, Xu Qing crushed the jade slip from Yingxian Tomb. His form dissolved, and he vanished through teleportation.

In the next instant, the starry sky blurred within Xu Qing’s perception…

Yingxian Tomb.

It existed not only in Jiuan Heaven.

In truth, every Outer Heaven possessed a place akin to this.

It was the final resting ground for all immortals belonging to that Outer Heaven who had fallen in battle throughout history.

Some lay whole; most were mere fragments.

And for some, perhaps only an ancestral tablet crafted by descendants remained.

The Yingxian Tomb of Jiuan Heaven resided within the Yingxian Star Domain of the Xiansong Universe.

This region had been isolated entirely, accessible only through a single ancient bronze gate of immense size.

Outside the gate stood a black, weathered stone platform.

Upon it sat an old man in black robes, cross-legged in meditation.

Unremarkable in appearance, his aura flickered faintly, almost imperceptible, utterly motionless.

Amidst ripples of spatial distortion, Xu Qing’s figure materialized outside the great gate, beneath the stone platform.

He lifted his gaze toward the gate, then turned to the old man, his mind stirring.

From the elder emanated a profound sense of death, layered with solitude and desolation.

The moment Xu Qing looked upon him, the Xian within his body stirred unexpectedly—as if drawn by some unseen thread—granting him deeper insight.

A strange sensation washed over Xu Qing: this old man before him seemed as though he should no longer exist, yet somehow persisted.

The feeling was faint and quickly faded.

Xu Qing’s heart tightened inwardly. He bowed respectfully, then stepped past the stone platform toward the great gate—and disappeared within.

Only after Xu Qing’s form vanished into the gate did the old man on the platform slowly open his eyes.

“No one’s come for quite some time,” he murmured.

“That’s good. Fewer offerings mean fewer new dead.”

“May they all live well… live well…”

The elder reached for a wine flask, took a long swig, then glanced back at the gate, his voice hoarse and low.

“You lot left so cleanly, so decisively… why leave me alone to guard your graves in this world…”

He sighed softly, eyes clouded with memory.

Inside the gate, as the starry blur before Xu Qing’s eyes sharpened into clarity, he beheld clusters of galaxies.

Each was a tomb.

Every galaxy within the Yingxian Star Domain served as a burial vault.

Each bore a towering stone stele—some inscribed with detailed accounts of the deceased’s life, others bearing only a few sparse lines.

The latter were often personal reflections left behind as epitaphs.

Altogether, there were not many—barely over a hundred.

But one must remember: this was a sanctuary of immortals.

Throughout the ages, merely within the Nine Shores Heaven alone, over a hundred lesser immortals had fallen in battle.

Though history stretched countless tens of thousands of years long, when Xu Qing stepped through the colossal gate and beheld with his own eyes galaxy after galaxy, each marked by towering stone steles, his heart still trembled with awe.

Faintly, he seemed to hear sighs echoing through the starry void.

As if valiant cries still swirled among the spiraling galaxies.

As if ancient blessings endured even amidst death itself.

They had guarded their homeland.

They had protected those who came after.

For humankind, for the Star Rings, they fought with fearless valor—

Sacrificing life and self, giving all without thought of return.

Though Xu Qing was not native to the Fifth Star Ring, his spirit grew heavy upon arriving here, weighed down by profound reverence for these extraordinary heroes.

The stone steles before his eyes became monuments within his soul.

After a long while, Xu Qing walked on in silence, passing one stellar vortex after another, gazing upon stele after stele.

“I cultivated for nine thousand years, hailing from the Great Immortal Mountain. My path was Cloud Profundity; thus I attained immortality and was hailed as an Immortal Lord. In my lifetime, I beheaded seven True Gods—what joy!”

“I was but a wandering cultivator, rising to immortality through sheer defiance. In the Star Ring War, I joined the encirclement that slew a God Sovereign. Though I perished, I harbor no regrets.”

“Spirit becomes god, beast becomes demon, ghost becomes fiend—then… what is an immortal? To become a mountain for humankind, to shield our race—that is immortality! The human, is the immortal!”

“I’ve lived too long—my humanity nearly faded. Couldn’t kill a True God, yet still wished to act. My goal this time: hunting. I aimed to slay countless divine prodigies upon their altars, doing all I could to sever their lineage!”

“You disciples of future generations—do not come empty-handed to pay your respects! This old man favors godsblood; bring godsblood to honor me!”

As Xu Qing’s gaze swept across the inscriptions on each stele, the words seemed to transform into laughing figures before his eyes—

Some weeping, some laughing, some mad, some serene—appearing vividly before him, forever etched into the river of history.

Here, through these stones and epitaphs, past, present, and future were bound together, forming an indelible imprint—

One that any visitor might feel deep within their bones.

Indeed, loyal bones lie beneath green hills; deeds of merit fill the annals.

Heroes’ righteous spirit fills heaven and earth; martyrs’ names echo through millennia.

After a long silence, Xu Qing had read them all. In the central expanse, he sat cross-legged amidst the stars, gazing at the surrounding steles, and murmured softly:

“Esteemed predecessors, this junior disciple Xu Qing—though not native to the Fifth Star Ring—vows never to let your will fall into ruin.”

“If any among you would bestow your relics upon me, I swear I shall never stray from my original heart.”

Xu Qing drew a deep breath and spoke solemnly.

All around remained utterly still—no ripple stirred by his words.

Silent, he closed his eyes, calmed his mind, and attempted to sense something.

Yet after a long while, he gained nothing.

Frowning, Xu Qing pondered, then abandoned deliberate seeking altogether. Letting his thoughts drift freely, memories of his past gradually surfaced.

The hardships of his youth.

The bloodshed of his adulthood.

His first encounter with gods—filled with loathing.

His next meeting—burning with fury.

Until the Empress ascended to godhood, and within complexity, understanding dawned.

At last, it seemed he returned once more to the Questioning Heart.

A voice asked:

“What is a god?”

Once, Xu Qing’s answer had been a single sentence.

Now, pondering anew, he fell silent. He thought of the Empress. After a long pause, he spoke calmly:

“Most gods… are still sons of bitches!”

“But among them… some remain human.”

Every stele trembled as one.