Chapter Forty-Four: The Return of the Morning Star, Shi Yi's Madness

At the very moment when Shi Hao was shouting with ecstatic joy, everyone present felt as if the very heavens were collapsing. It was as though an ancient and colossal divine being was striding through the river of time toward this world—radiant, majestic, descending like a god from the heavens. In that instant, they seemed to witness countless ancestors, across the endless ages, worshiping and praying, with the giant surrounded by the laws of the Dao, as if he had existed before the heavens and the earth were born, making all living beings across the myriad realms unable to look directly upon him.

All those present—save for Shi Hao’s own companions—fell prostrate to the ground. Whether it was the Martial King or the newly arrived Spider Sovereign, none could summon even the slightest thought of resistance; their hearts were filled with terror to the extreme.

In their understanding, such an existence should not belong to this world. Who was this person, and why would Shi Hao call him "Master"? At this moment, the Martial King was overwhelmed with regret, realizing he had made the most foolish decision, one that might bring eternal doom upon the House of the Martial King.

Above the firmament, a purple curtain of light, ten thousand feet tall, seemed to tear through the chaos, manifesting in the world. From within that curtain, two figures emerged, as if two gods had descended!

Gradually, the vague outlines of the two figures grew clear—it was Chen Xing, whom Shi Hao’s group had not seen for three years, and the Willow God, who had disappeared after delivering Shi Hao and his companions to this place.

Upon seeing Chen Xing appear, Shi Hao could no longer restrain himself. He rushed forward, knelt before Chen Xing, and choked out, “Master, it’s been three years since we last met. Your disciple has missed you!” His voice trembled with emotion.

Chen Xing reached out to gently stroke his disciple’s head, sighing softly, “Little One, you’ve grown up now. Don’t act so sentimental—get up.”

He helped Shi Hao to his feet and gave him a thorough look, nodding in satisfaction. By now, Shi Hao had cultivated the third layer of the Chaos Heaven-Opening Art, and the twelfth-grade Creation Azure Lotus given by Chen Xing had also been partially refined and absorbed into his consciousness. To achieve such progress in three years spoke volumes about Shi Hao’s extraordinary talent.

Even as a supreme Dao Lord, there was something Chen Xing could not understand: why, in a world that was but a middle-tier realm, could those who cultivated the Prehistoric Heart Method progress faster than the natives of the Grand Desolation World? Why were the talents here so much more formidable? Shi Hao’s Chaos Heaven-Opening Art and the Heaven-Breaking Fire Phoenix Art he had taught to Huo Ling’er had both advanced rapidly in just three years, and even the villagers practicing the Nine Revolutions Mysterious Art had made remarkable progress. In the Grand Desolation World, such breakthroughs would take decades, centuries, even millennia. Chen Xing resolved to investigate this mystery when time permitted.

At that moment, Jin Ling and the other two had also come before Chen Xing, bowing respectfully. “Master!”

Chen Xing waved them aside, then looked down at the Martial King’s household. He spoke, “Back then, my disciple endured immense suffering here, and to this day, you have yet to give him a fair answer. Do you truly think that your petty House of Kings and Lords can conceal the sky with one hand?”

Before the Martial King’s people could respond, the Spider Sovereign, still kneeling, spoke up respectfully, “Senior, I only accepted Shi Yi as my disciple because of his remarkable talent. I did not take part in these affairs and beseech you to see clearly.”

As a seasoned Divine Fire Realm cultivator who had survived endless years, the Spider Sovereign’s body was already withered. He had intended to take Shi Yi as his disciple, hoping that the fortune of a prodigy might help him break through. How could he have expected to provoke such a terrifying existence? Now, gripped by fear, he only wished to escape, caring little for his own disciple.

By now, Chen Xing had withdrawn his oppressive aura, allowing the Martial King’s household to slowly stand. The members of Shi Yi’s branch trembled uncontrollably, knowing that today would not end well for them.

Only Shi Yi himself, just a teenager, stood straight, lips pressed into a thin line, his double pupils fixed unblinkingly on Shi Hao beside Chen Xing. He said nothing.

Ignoring the Spider Sovereign, Chen Xing gazed in another direction and said coolly, “The Emperor of Stone Country—are you planning to sit and watch the show?”

A bitter laugh sounded, and a middle-aged man in dragon robes, exuding the aura of imperial authority, revealed himself. He paid his respects to Chen Xing and the Willow God. “Greetings, honored seniors.”

“Enough. We have important matters to attend to shortly. This is an internal affair of your Shi Clan—you will handle it. No matter what, these people—” Chen Xing pointed to the members of Shi Yi’s branch, “must die.” His voice was icy.

Though he wished to avenge Shi Hao, for someone of Chen Xing’s status to act personally was beneath his dignity. If Shi Hao were to do it himself, it would mean killing his own kin, which might hinder his future cultivation. Better to leave it to the Emperor of Stone Country.

“Senior! You stand as a god among men and ought to speak reason. My mother already paid with her life for digging out Shi Hao’s Supreme Bone. My grandfather and the Yu Clan were all exterminated for hunting down Uncle Eleven. Forgive me, but do you mean to kill us just because we tried to stop Uncle Eleven from committing a massacre? If need be, I’ll return the Supreme Bone, and we’ll owe each other nothing from now on.” Shi Yi spoke calmly and unflinchingly.

The Emperor hesitated but did not interrupt, clinging to a sliver of hope that he might save Shi Yi’s branch. If the enmity between Shi Yi and Shi Hao could be resolved, and with Qin Hao, who also possessed the Supreme Bone, the Stone Country’s foundation would be unshakable for generations.

Chen Xing regarded Shi Yi’s speech with a half-smile of disdain. “A child who, for the sake of a so-called Supreme Bone, could manipulate his own mother—do you really think you can play the saint before me? The only reason I won’t dirty my own hands killing you is because it would disgust me.”

Seeing Shi Yi’s face turn ashen, Chen Xing continued coldly, “Don’t talk to me about reason. Even if you had never persecuted my disciple, if I wanted to kill you, you would have to bare your neck and accept it. Who told you to be weak? In this vast cosmos, only power allows one to master their fate. So, look!”

With a wave of his hand, an apparition appeared in the air. The crowd gasped in disbelief. Those who recognized her knew this was the soul of Shi Yi’s mother, whom Shi Zi Ling had slain more than ten years ago.

No one in this world had ever seen a true soul before. At best, a strong cultivator might be reborn with a trace of a remnant soul, but that would no longer be their original self. This scene exceeded all imagination—a person dead for more than a decade, whose soul could be summoned intact. Such a wondrous technique was unheard of.

“Mother!” Shi Yi, his face already livid from Chen Xing’s words, now saw the apparition gazing at him with boundless love and worry. Through the bond of blood, he knew this was his birth mother. Tears poured down his cheeks as he roared at Chen Xing, “Who are you? What do you intend to do with my mother’s soul?”

Chen Xing had been right. When he was a child, Shi Yi had indeed exploited his mother’s love to make her commit that cruel act. He believed the clan would never harm a natural-born double-pupil prodigy just to protect a Supreme Bone-less Shi Hao.

His calculation was correct; for his sake, the clan exiled Shi Zi Ling’s family. But he had not foreseen that, to protect him, the clan would consent to Shi Zi Ling killing his mother.

Though scheming from a young age, Shi Yi was still only a child. Losing his mother drove him to madness with longing and hatred for the clan who allowed her death. He never showed this to anyone, burying his resentment deep within. For years, he had thrown himself into cultivation, hoping to dull the ache of loss.

But just as he thought he had buried that longing in the deepest recesses of his heart, his mother’s soul appeared before him today—and it drove him utterly mad.