I Am the Fated Villain Chapter 1299: The clues of the Pool of Creation
“Oh? Are you referring to my mother?” Nan Qing lifted the teacup, casting her eyes down to gently blow away the rising steam, her delicate eyelashes quivering just a bit. She replied in a relaxed tone, not giving it too much thought.
“No,” Ling Yuling denied with a shake of her head.
For some reason she couldn't pinpoint, gazing at Nan Qing before her stirred thoughts of that particular silhouette in her mind.
This realization left Ling Yuling puzzled.
Yet, as she scrutinized Nan Qing's refined and impeccable features more closely, perhaps influenced by her prior musings, the contours of her eyebrows and eyes truly bore a certain likeness.
“Has your mother ever spoken of your father?” Ling Yuling inquired, as though compelled by an unseen force.
Nan Qing automatically set down her teacup and shook her head. “She never has.”
Ling Yuling acknowledged with a nod, choosing not to press on. She meticulously stored the old scroll and got ready to depart.
Yet prior to leaving, after a brief pause, she addressed Nan Qing, “Should we not succeed this round, it might confirm your earlier suspicion. If that shadowy power has persistently aimed to eradicate the offspring of the old confederates, then tranquility in this place could soon crumble…”
“You should ready yourself.”
Nan Qing gave a subtle nod, her face showing no alteration, appearing utterly detached from such concerns.
Once Ling Yuling had gone, Nan Qing retrieved her teacup once more, softly stroking its surface. Within her pure and lucid eyes lingered a trace of reflection.
“Does it truly bear some resemblance?”
All at once, a subtle grin curved her lips.
Her already perfect and elegant brows and eyes now radiated a stunning allure.
Nan Qing's countenance swiftly returned to serenity, and she rose to her feet. Clad in verdant robes, the breeze toyed with them, while her flowing raven locks danced in the summit gusts, evoking an image shrouded in mist and haze, poised to drift off on the air.
Her sight drifted below, surveying the expansive wilds at the base of Holy Ancestor Mountain. There, a youthful and exceptional figure clashed intensely with a handful of primordial, savage, and ferocious creatures.
Nearby venerable trees lay in ruins, summits were pulverized into powder, and the ground bore fissures extending across myriad miles.
In the domain of Holy Ancestor Mountain, all cultivation levels faced restriction. Even a Dao Realm powerhouse might not outmatch a typical Immortal Path practitioner from beyond these bounds. The young prodigy's ability to hold his own against multiple dread ancient beasts highlighted his formidable prowess.
“Born with godlike might to challenge a genuine dragon, it's unfortunate that despite the passage of years, his authentic Panzhu lineage remains unawakened…” Nan Qing's visage stayed icy, her gaze devoid of ripples as she observed the youth, almost whispering to the wind.
As dusk yielded to night, she lingered atop the peak, observing the young man wage relentless war against the ancient beasts, sharpening his edge amid wounds, displaying a bold, death-defying resolve.
Amid this harrowing clash, the youth appeared berserk, unleashing frenzied punches and strikes, flailing limbs without pattern or discipline, charging forth wildly.
Nevertheless, he resembled an invincible deity of battle, brimming with unyielding vigor, intensifying his ferocity with each exchange.
From his frame erupted a potent surge of vital essence and vigor, spilling from every pore as gleaming godly force, empowering him to confront ancient beasts each rivaling a half-immortal emperor in might. Though his realm lagged, he managed to wound and intimidate them.
Ultimately, a colossal and awe-inspiring form emerged behind the youth, shouldering the cosmos, gripping a fearsome axe, with an archaic and indistinct basin hovering over its crown.
This grand and formidable silhouette, merely brandishing its axe forward, warped the weave of time and void, rending the primal chaos.
The axe's glow blazed with such ferocity that it threatened to annihilate all—substance and being in equal measure.
“Kill!” The youth bellowed, and in that instant, he fused with the towering form at his back. His once-bare hands now clutched the axe, and with a powerful arc, he cleaved downward.
Splash!
Crimson spurted forth, gleaming vividly against the nocturnal chill.
The handful of horrifying ancient beasts lacked even a moment to cry out before being bisected in flight. Their sturdiest craniums exploded, incisions as sleek as polished mirrors, their essences extinguished instantly, perishing outright.
“Pool of Creation…”
From her elevated perch on the summit, beholding the spectacle below, Nan Qing's form quivered faintly. Her eyes locked unyieldingly on the youth. Her breathing quickened a touch, and a spark ignited in her gaze.
More accurately, her attention wasn't on the youth proper. It fixed upon the dim, primordial silhouette behind him and the basin-like form adrift above its head.
In that fleeting second, Nan Qing's feelings betrayed a flicker of astonishment, yet she drew a steadying breath and composed herself, restoring her poise.
“Xiao Die, escort Zhu Xuan to the Ancestral Saint Pavilion and relay to Old Zhu that Zhu Xuan has worn himself out battling the savage beasts and requires some time to recuperate,” she instructed with steady calm.
“Yes, miss.”
The atmosphere rippled, revealing a maid with her tresses bound in classic fashion, who bowed deferentially in response.
She morphed into a beam of sacred radiance and sped toward the Great Wilderness.
Following the intense skirmish with the ancient savage beasts, the youth had succumbed to fatigue, sprawled insensate across the wild expanse.
“After such prolonged anticipation, at last, I've uncovered the Pool of Creation's location. The final heir of the Panzhu Clan has indeed surfaced in him.”
“Lacking him, the Pool of Creation might have stayed forever concealed.”
“The Panzhu Clan's forebears truly spared no effort to shield the Pool of Creation from outsiders' grasp.”
Nan Qing averted her eyes from the Great Wilderness, her graceful strides carrying her away from the peak like a vanishing puff of vapor.
Among the relics of the lost era with traceable signs stand the Mirror of Reincarnation, the Door of Immortality, and the Coffin of the End of the World. At long last, hints regarding the Pool of Creation have surfaced.
The following morning, within the Ancestral Saint Pavilion, Zhu Xuan awoke with a throbbing skull, massaging it as he sat up. The harsh sunlight piercing the window forced his eyes to narrow.
At that juncture, he sensed every bone in his body as fractured, each pore aching as if ripped open.
“Just what transpired last night? I recall only clashing wildly with those ancient beasts, fighting freely as I hadn't in ages. Then a headache struck, and everything after fades to black.”
Zhu Xuan kneaded his forehead, murmuring to himself.
He failed to recollect the precise occurrences from the night before. All he could summon was the fierce engagement with the ancient beasts in the Great Wilderness beneath Ancestral Saint Mountain, tempering his battle prowess.
“Hold on, there's a hazy silhouette I think I glimpsed, one directing my fighting methods, imparting the path to cleaving the skies, and uttering words to me… but who could it have been?”
“…”
Zhu Xuan strained to dredge up the night's details, but the harder he pushed, the fiercer the agony in his head grew, threatening to burst. He couldn't suppress sharp intakes of air, his features paling under the torment.
“You overdid it last night. Stay put and recover well.”
“I warned you against courting danger. It was Xiao Die from Saint Mountain who carried you back herself yesterday. Even Qingxianzi insisted I ready some healing herbs and spirit items for you…”
A robust herbal aroma abruptly permeated the chamber as an elder man of middling years entered with a bowl of brew. He chided while approaching.
“Grandpa…”
Zhu Xuan regarded Old Zhu, a sheepish grin forming as he rubbed his nape. Yet upon catching the tail end of Old Zhu's words, astonishment and thrill lit his expression.
“What? Grandpa, you're saying Xiao Die brought me back herself?” Ignoring his discomfort, he leaped from the bed, clutching Old Zhu's arm firmly.
“To be exact, it was Qingxianzi who directed Xiao Die to retrieve you. You insist on venturing into the Great Wilderness under Saint Ancestor Mountain. Without their watch, trouble's inevitable.” Old Zhu fixed him with a stern glance.
Zhu Xuan laughed heartily and downed the brew in swift swallows, heedless of its heat.
Witnessing this, Old Zhu could only sigh and shake his head in resignation.
“Qingxianzi never promised to take you as her apprentice. She merely shared some combat arts for your practice, and still you address her as ‘Master.’ It embarrasses me on your behalf.”
Zhu Xuan shrugged it off with a grin, “Regardless, she shows concern for me. Why else would she send Xiao Die to fetch me? I head to the Great Wilderness to sharpen my skills, hoping she'll spare time to instruct me.”
Old Zhu eyed him reproachfully and cautioned, “Mind your words and curb your fancies. Ties to Qingxianzi aren't for casual pursuit.”
Somewhat irked, Zhu Xuan countered, “I'm not harboring improper notions. I simply revere Qingxianzi, who rescued my life.”
At these words, Old Zhu let out a sigh, memories stirring within.
“Were it not for Qingxianzi's intervention years ago, mending your frame and granting control over that innate godlike power, you'd likely not survive today.”
Zhu Xuan's admiration for Qingxianzi made perfect sense.
“That said, your habit of claiming discipleship, even as your grandfather, leaves me uneasy.”
Though Qingxianzi appeared young, as the Saint Ancestor's offspring, her standing and years eclipsed the commonplace.
“The folk of Floating Continent have grown under Qingxianzi's protection from youth.”
“As a mere babe, you fled pursuers. Swathed in a gore-drenched cloth, you drifted to Floating Continent's fringes. Qingxianzi discovered you first and bade me shelter you…”
“In essence, Qingxianzi has preserved your life on two occasions.” Old Zhu shook his head while recounting.
Learning this anew after years, Zhu Xuan's face took on a layered expression.
“I'm aware of it all. And I'll pursue the secrets of my birth to exact vengeance for my parents and kin…”
A glint of animosity sharpened his eyes.
Though long past, those indistinct visions frequently haunted his thoughts.
Beneath a crimson moon's eerie glow, gore painted the earth scarlet. Icy gales howled amid cries and carnage. A lithe, chill silhouette perched on a ridge, silently surveying the horror.
Shadows wreathed in darkness, akin to death's harvesters, plunged from the ether, brandishing arms and reaping lives without mercy. His clan's defenses crumbled before those grim entities.
All faced inevitable doom, throats bared for the blade.
Gusts fanned the blaze, which roared to life, devouring hamlets, farmlands, halls, and isles.
The breeze tousled that figure's locks, flames casting light on their obscured visage. Their impassive stare overlooked the writhing ants below.
This vision plagued Zhu Xuan often. He recognized it as the architect of his clan's massacre, identity unknown. Still, he vowed to hunt them down and claim retribution for family and bloodline.
Such drive fueled Zhu Xuan's relentless pursuit of martial mastery.
For those on the path of cultivation, mere days passed in an instant.
At Yu Xian Palace's domain, primordial vessels cloaked in turbulent energies pierced the cosmos, arriving from distant realms. Countless rays, divine fowl, soaring blades, and steeds traversed the starlit void, ferrying mighty beings radiating dread presences.
The Yu Xian Palace ancestor's awakening, proclaimed across the lands, ignited a grand stir in the Xiyuan civilization. Every notable lineage, faction, or realm dispatched key representatives, none daring to slight the Yu Xian Palace.