Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Bridge

“What is this place now?” Bear Third was nearly frantic. At the end of the vast corridor, a flight of steps appeared.

Ascending the steps, the surroundings opened up abruptly; they found themselves atop a bridge shrouded in swirling mist below, obscuring its depth. Faintly, the sound of rushing water could be heard.

Curiosity stirred, everyone glanced about. Outside the bridge, stone piers were carved with myriad patterns: humans, other races, demon folk, and many primordial beasts unable to assume human form, all rendered with lifelike detail.

On either side of the bridge were reliefs depicting various weapons, their forms exaggerated.

“This one looks just like the Star-Piercing Arrow, the greatest treasure of our Qianluo realm, lost for six thousand years,” Liu Ruyan observed, pointing to one of the reliefs.

Bear Third and King Dou both frowned; indeed, it was the likeness of the first treasure.

“There’s no escape, no way around it. I’ve said there are three places we must never come, and now this is the second!” Wuyun lamented. Long Yi continued, “What must be faced, must be faced.”

“Nonsense!” Wuyun snapped, stomping on the bridge. “This bridge forcibly altered the passage and captured us—you think I can’t find my way?”

Everyone was astonished. To forcibly change the corridor—what kind of magic was this? Was he not trapped in a spatial fissure?

Amid their doubts, Long Yi summoned a multitude of weapons, leaned forward, and recited the names of the figures depicted below.

Each one was a legendary figure of bygone days. Had they not all ascended? Why were they here?

A chill crept in. When they tried to look back, the steps had vanished, revealing only darkness.

Ding ding ding!

A sound rang out ahead. Unafraid, everyone hid behind King Dou, advancing until they saw a sharp-nosed dwarf carving a new relief—astonishingly, the likeness was of Long Yi.

There were seven new relief bases in all. Quietly imitating Wuyun, the group observed. At last, Wuyun shook his head, indicating the one carved in his likeness, saying, “Wrong, wrong. You need another stroke—from the hair across the neck, covering the crown—then it will fit on the bridge pier.”

The sharp-nosed dwarf nodded, swapped Long Yi’s first position with Wuyun’s last, and whispered, “Is this better?”

Wuyun quickly retreated behind Long Yi, a gust of sinister wind immediately blocked.

Wuyun cursed, “Bridge Ghost, dare to make a move!”

The dwarf was about to speak, but Wuyun cut him off: “Don’t talk to me about gambling—you have no honor! If you have tricks, show them! Playing god and ghost, you’re not even worthy of my disciple’s great-grandson!”

His tirade startled the others. King Dou, steeling himself, was about to speak when suddenly the stone beneath his feet shifted. At a glance, the bridge was empty—no one in sight.

Not only him, but Long Yi and Bear Third were also ensnared.

Only two figures remained on the bridge. Before the dwarf could speak, Wuyun laughed, “Petty tricks, daring to show off before the master.”

With that, he summoned the power of the God-Breaker within, just as the others appeared, a world-shattering force swept in.

Wuyun stood firm, forming several hand seals, and tossed out a wolf fang, which grew large in the wind and blocked the attack.

Suddenly, arrows flew in; the wolf fang retreated, and Wuyun was wounded, spraying foul blood onto the bridge.

The threatening momentum, ready to strike again, dissipated as Wuyun bled and cast his spell. Alone, he roared, “So you’re not following the rules?”

The sharp-nosed dwarf, as if viewing a dead man, transformed in a flash—immortal aura swirling, imperial majesty descending, no trace of his former diminutive form. He was about to roar, but Wuyun rebuked him: “Of all people to imitate, you choose the Golden Bridge Imperial Immortal of the Second Immortal Realm? Is this truly his proudest imperial weapon?”

On the verge of unleashing his fury, Wuyun’s words caught him off guard.

“No, the spirit of the imperial weapon is gone. Are you perhaps some immortal king who descended later?”

---

Wuyun’s words struck a nerve. The other was about to speak, but Wuyun intoned three times, “Still! Still! Still!”

For a fraction of a second, the emperor became a dwarf again.

This trick stunned the sharp-nosed dwarf. Words stuck in his throat; he didn’t know how to respond.

Wuyun continued, “This bridge is immensely powerful. If you truly wish to control it, you’ll be captured and become its new spirit. Your mission should be to absorb power, return to the Second Immortal Realm, and wait for revenge!”

“Time flows on. Those passionate vows of old have been dulled by the butcher’s knife of years. Don’t even speak of finding the entrance to the Second Immortal Realm; even entering Qianluo would mean facing the degradation of mighty treasures.”

“Enough! I’ll excavate your mind and see who you truly are!” The dwarf, enraged, tried to use his magic to cast Wuyun into the filthy river beneath the bridge, but nothing happened.

Wuyun had broken his spell, stepped a meter aside, broke the illusion, and went to aid Long Yi.

King Dou was formidable, but only in flesh. Long Yi, however, was a veteran immortal king.

Entering the illusion, Wuyun paused in surprise. Long Yi, with a dark expression, had already become Dragon Emperor. Around him swirled demon soldiers and dragon generals—all ancient treasures from Qianluo, some even broken Dao artifacts, possessed by spirits, accompanying him.

Was all this just to let Long Yi indulge as Dragon Emperor?

Indeed—not only that, but to become Dragon God, Creator, doing as he pleased.

When Wuyun appeared, Long Yi nodded slightly and whispered, “Don’t intervene.”

“What, have you too been blinded, living shamelessly?” Wuyun seized a fan-shaped treasure, one of Long Yi’s immortal king consorts, sprinkled it with Mo Kong soul water, and claimed it for himself.

This startled the treasures supporting Long Yi; some spirits returned at once, others reverted to their forms and attacked Wuyun, some unleashed earth-shaking magic.

Yet, beneath the cloud, all these attacks missed. Even the broken Dao artifacts struck by the soul water raised a swelling on their souls with each drop.

For soul artifacts, their greatest strength is their nature, their greatest weakness, themselves. A drop of blood can force the spirit to submit.

All the weapons besieging Long Yi, as well as the mist-formed mountains and rivers, revealed their true forms. Facing Wuyun, they fell without a fight.

“I’ve tried to break out ten times—each time, I’ve failed miserably!” Long Yi the Immortal King complained bitterly. Wuyun, with soul water, was unafraid. Though strong himself, three broken Dao artifacts repeatedly defeated him. If only he could use the scissors, he’d have cut his way out long ago.

Seeing Wuyun claim all the treasures, Long Yi grew jealous, pointing at the broken Dao artifacts, wanting them. The other laughed; the former withdrew his hand.

“These scraps bear the mark of the bridge; their souls temporarily compelled. I fear if you take them, the dragon’s head will be suppressed!”

Wuyun, nonchalant, waved his hand, rescuing King Dou and the rest similarly. Now the sharp-nosed dwarf, unusually calm, vanished, and the bridge slowly revealed itself.

But just as they stepped onto it, peril abounded. Gazing at the unseen far end, it was hollow and endless.

“Moving forward, all the weapons should be Dao artifact level. For such imperial treasures to escape here and sever all lower realm intruders is no accident.”

Wuyun sighed, “So tired. One wolf-dog made me run to the First Immortal Realm; must I now wander to the Second?”

“That mangy dog is dead?”

A mournful cry echoed. Wuyun regarded it seriously. “Yes. To make me go to the First Immortal Realm and keep my promise, it died.”

“I won’t be so foolish. All lower realm trespassers who offend me will become my puppets. In the future, I’ll ascend to the immortal realms and exact revenge for my true self!”

The voice faded, leaving Wuyun shouting in vain.

Faced with such a troublesome opponent, Wuyun could only stall, waiting for Dragon Scissors to recover and borrowing the power of Absolute Wolf Fang and Buddha Beads to leave safely.

---

This time, Long Yi used the Heart-Locking Array, binding everyone together so they could face the illusion collectively.

Just as they prepared to move forward, Little Bug complained that the illusion was the path he’d sought all his life. Only Liu Ruyan frowned deeply. Her world was one of vengeance, but with Saint Tyrant dead, she drifted in confusion; in the illusion, Saint Tyrant revived, rekindling her fighting spirit.

After hearing all the complaints, Wuyun teased, “In my old hometown, chickens, ducks, geese, pigs, cows, and sheep were raised, then released into the wild to toughen up. Only when strong and robust are they good.”

Bear Third was puzzled, “Isn’t fatter tastier?”

“Lean, sturdy, and more chewable—like fresh fish tossed into the pot, still thrashing; the middle cooked while the tail and head still wriggle. That’s how you highlight freshness, whetting the eater’s appetite.”

Everyone understood Wuyun’s point, sweat breaking on their backs. Only Long Yi snorted, still angry about the treasures.

Hehehehe!

It was not quite laughter, not quite a sound, but like jade scraped across stone.

Bear Third looked closely—indeed, it was jade. Two rows of water-milled stone teeth, perfectly square, gleaming white and gray, set in the mouth of a stone man.

In his hand, he gripped a massive thigh bone, exuding waves of oppressive power—a demon emperor’s bone forged into a weapon, a complete Dao artifact.

“How is it possible, Dao artifacts hidden within heavy weapons? Is this the Treasure Bridge?” Bear Third was greedy; had he known Wuyun had the broken Dao artifact from Long Yi, he’d have shamelessly asked for it.

“It’s been ages since anyone reached this place. The last was twenty thousand years ago—a valiant soul from another immortal realm, but, ha, he looked just like me.”

“Just say it’s you—enough rambling!” Wuyun cut in, watching King Dou’s tense face. True to form, the latter stepped forward.

Stone against brick—let’s see which is stronger!

King Dou leapt twice, one-legged, soared, and punched with immense force.

That punch, shadowed in gold, filled the bridge with unstoppable power.

Yet, on the narrow bridge, the expected clash never came.

King Dou’s punch, as if striking dough, deformed the stone puppet, but all subsequent force was absorbed.

Then, like a ball, King Dou’s chest caved in and he was thrown back at speed. One blow, and he was lightly injured.

He rose, bewildered—he could crush cotton to dust, so why couldn’t he affect his foe?

“Good stuff!” Wuyun praised.

The earth-shaking punch landed on the opponent’s head, enveloping its face, but the giant head was like rubber, swallowing the fist, then rebounding.

The recoil sent the force back, spinning stars, making King Dou taste his own strength.

“In the mid realms, there’s a kind of clay used to repair puppet joints, giving them lifelike vitality. Yours is mixed with too much—looks fierce, but is actually weak,” Wuyun waved dismissively, the stone-faced opponent growing solemn.