King's Awakening-Chapter 759 - : Nine-Layer Black Tower

Chapter 759: Chapter 759: Nine-Layer Black Tower

At the moment when White Mitchell’s sword pierced the old beggar’s body.

The old beggar’s form started to rapidly fade into illusion.

This time, the old beggar was thoroughly defeated. White Mitchell could clearly sense the faint ghostly aura of the beggar in front of him gradually dissipating.

As a result, the scenery around them began to shift.

The ancient temple was still the same.

The location hasn’t changed either.

...

However, the God of Heaven War and the other two were unconscious by the side.

Meanwhile, White Mitchell had unknowingly entered the ancient temple and was sitting on a cushion under an unknown statue in the temple.

White Mitchell stole a glance at the statue, it was made from a huge rock, but most of it had been damaged, only remnants of former glory were visible on its fragmented parts.

At this moment, the fading soul of the old beggar hovered in front of the statue, staring at it as if recalling something.

“I seem to remember something,” the old beggar’s voice echoed in the ancient temple.

Then, the old beggar slowly turned his head to look at White Mitchell.

The old beggar now appeared approachable, unlike the brutal and unkind image he had before.

At first glance, he seemed like an amiable elder.

“I…am freed, thank you, young man,” the old beggar said melancholically.

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“I was just trying to survive,” White Mitchell replied.

The old beggar chuckled: “Quite a magnanimous man. Regardless, you’ve done me a favor. Who knows how much longer I might have gotten lost, or how many more people I could have harmed.

As a form of repayment, I can answer some of your questions. Think of it as a small legacy left behind by an old man on his deathbed.”

White Mitchell gave it some thought, then asked: “What is this place? Why are you trapped here? And what does this realm represent?”

He knew the answer to some of these questions, for instance, the nature of this place.

As the origin of this world, the Origin Power would undoubtedly know more.

The purpose of White Mitchell’s questions was also to test the old beggar’s words.

After all, even though the old beggar now poses no threat, one can never be too careful, especially in dangerous places like the Forbidden Land.

After hearing White Mitchell’s question, the old beggar pondered for a moment then slowly explained: “This place is an ancient cultivator’s dojo owned by a powerful man named Emperor Qing.

A long time ago, I ventured into this place, in the depths of the dojo I encountered a mysterious force, ruining my Taoist Body and leaving just this residual spirit, barely existing in this rundown temple.

As for this realm you spoke of, it’s just a place where people enslave themselves, pursuing fame, profit, and the survival of the fittest. Everyone is in pursuit of benefits, power, and some are even chasing after the elusive immortality.

I was deeply embroiled in this realm thousand years ago. But now that I look back, I realize that it was all an illusion.

Young man, your potential is exceptional, and I suspect you have a mentor guiding you. However, I would like to remind you of something.

Cultivation is a path of defying fate. There will be countless temptations and interests involved on this path.

Only those who preserve their true hearts and stay focused on their initial pursuit will ultimately attain the grand Dao.”

Upon hearing these words, White Mitchell nodded. He had never forgotten his original intention.

He would indeed heed the old beggar’s advice.

Subsequently, White Mitchell continued: “What did senior encounter deep within the dojo? What was your cultivation level when you were alive?”

This was crucial information that could determine the survival of White Mitchell and his party. If possible, White Mitchell wanted to know more about Emperor Qing’s Relics.

The old beggar’s remnant soul wore a pondering expression before abruptly tensing up as if recalling something horrific

Almost instantly, the old beggar made a sweeping gesture and the vision in front of White Mitchell drastically changed.

“This is my memory from back then. You can see everything you want to know through my eyes.” The old beggar’s voice echoed gently in White Mitchell’s mind.

Immediately after, White Mitchell felt as though a vast mountain range appeared before his eyes.

This was a frosty and majestic mountain range, it soared into the clouds like a realm beyond this world. The peaks were spectacular, the pointed tops like a finger pointed at the sky. This mysterious range concealed a legendary power known as Qinn.

A long corridor stretched across the mountain range like a rainbow. The corridor roof was tall, and the walls on both sides were adorned with huge ancient paintings glistening like liquid gold. The paintings depicted divine creatures traveling between heaven and earth, adding a sense of wonder to the corridor.

When one walked through the corridor, they were met with a grand mountain gate. The gate was made from ancient ore, and the gleaming golden word “Qinn” was carved onto the large stele, catching everyone’s eyes. Above the mountain gate, there were lifelike sculptures of two dancing phoenixes, so realistic that they seemed to flutter in the sky.

Upon crossing the mountain gate, it was as if one had entered a mysterious world. In the panoramic square, grass was green, flowers were dazzling, bustling cultivators either meditated or competed in martial arts, the clashing noise of metallic weapons intertwined with melodious chants to form part of a beautiful scene in this divine realm.

The main hall of Qīnn resembles a palace, emitting a rich and majestic aura. The grand entrance of the palace is adorned with a colossal sculpture of a divine beast, a tiger whose fierce glare seems ready to devour any who dare approach. Within the golden splendor and shimmering gemlight of the interior, gem-encrusted dragon pillars tower, serving as a gateway to the divine dwelling.

Once one steps between these dragon pillars, the magnificent inner hall is revealed. Bright and spacious, the walls are crafted from precious natural gemstones. Each stone radiates a captivating glow, imbuing the entire hall with an ethereal quality. As they illuminate, their dazzling light is cast onto the divine shrines within the hall.

The shrine within the Mountain Gate of Qīnn is the most eye-catching spot. The shrine, circular in shape and adorned with countless gems, emits a mysterious halo through the gaps between the jewels. At the center, a unique crystal ball rests on the offering vessel. Emitting a soft radiance, it seems to stir the souls of those present, bestowing upon them a sense of divine consolation.

However, the passage of time has ushered in changes within this beautiful Mountain Gate. When the moonlight spills into the gate, its faint light filters through the gaps between the gems, casting inexplicable shadows within the palace. It seems as if some malevolent force has infiltrated, transforming the once stunning Mountain Gate into something eerily disquieting.

Darkness gradually expands within the gate like a ghostly apparition, pervading the entire Mountain Gate of Qīnn. The previously bustling cultivators began to vanish one after another, swallowed by the darkness, leaving no trace. The beautiful flower sea also morphed into malevolent demons in the darkness, running rampant within the gate.

The main hall of Qīnn is permeated by a sense of darkness and death. The enormous divine beast sculpture turns into a ferocious bloodthirsty beast, its sharp claws wildly slashing the gem-inlaid walls of the palace. Gem shards splatter across the darkness, casting a chilling and horrifying glow.

The crystal ball inside the shrine also lost its luster of the past. It slid from its venerated throne and, amidst the falling fragments, shattered. The desolate remnants gradually vanished in the darkness, symbolizing the invasion of darkness.

The Mountain Gate of Qīnn is no longer that lavish and scenic fairyland, but a strange place shrouded in darkness.

The occasional moonlight slipping through the cracks of darkness casts a dim light over the ruins and desolation.

And, standing behind the main hall, it’s a colossal Nine-Layer Black Tower.

It towers into the clouds, resembling a massive black mountain standing in the midst of a desolate desert. The Nine-Layer Black Tower, viewed from afar, seems like nine giant black figures standing together, solemn and majestic.

The outer wall of the black tower has been tainted by the weathering of time, its former dignity and brilliance vanished without a trace. Cracks crisscross the walls, evil mosses growing within them like crawling snakes. The wooden entrance has long decayed and dissipated, leaving only the broken frame and half-rusted iron.

Upon entering the black tower, a cold and damp atmosphere assails one’s senses. Chaotic murals on the walls seem to mock like devils, dragging people’s hearts into the abyss. The heavy air almost suffocates anyone who dares enter. The staircase is covered with dust and spider webs, time seemingly frozen, void of any trace of life.

Stepping onto the first floor of the Nine-Layer Black Tower, one is engulfed in darkness. The room’s windows are fully obscured, and only a faint blue light flickers in the dark. The air is filled with an intense stench of blood, suffocating and overwhelming. In the endless darkness, countless bloodthirsty demons seem to lurk in every corner, waiting for their prey to arrive.

Despite the tower’s exterior losing its former glory, its interior layout is exceptionally vast. The main hall on the first floor is spacious and grand, capable of accommodating thousands of cultivators at once. However, in this deeply dark terrain, only a handful dare to cultivate. The black tower has become a legend in the cultivation world, not for the faint-hearted to enter trivially.

Cowardly in the center of the main hall stands a large altar. On the altar, a cluster of dark blue flames burns, giving off a gloomy glow. Within the flame seems to exist an invisible force that makes people uneasy. The altar is surrounded by black wooden boxes containing items of unimaginable evil. These items were won by the cultivators in the tower after defeating the demons and demonic beasts, exuding an apocalyptic aura.

Around the main hall, hundreds of small cells have been constructed. Confined within these cells are dozens of bound demon spirits, their agonizing and mournful groans permeating the air. These demon spirits are captured by the cultivators to refine evil artifacts. In this black tower, the most powerful cultivators suppress these evil spirits with their own strength, preventing their escape.

Passing through the main hall, one enters the cultivation chamber within the first layer of the black tower. The chamber’s floor is made of black slabs, engraved with strange runes that emit eerie ripples. Countless ghost fires float on all sides of the room, radiating a phosphorescent glow and periodically emitting a faint but spine-chilling demonic sound.

On the walls of the cultivation chamber hang horrifying murals. The scenes within the murals put one on edge, engrossed in the pervasive atmosphere of carnage and death. Some murals depict cultivators’ fierce battles with demons, the clash of darkness and light; others illustrate the horrific process of cultivators advancing to the realm of truth, a tale too gruesome to recount.

In the center of the cultivation chamber, there is a huge pit. The bottom of the pit is unfathomable, filled with a mysterious force emanating from the infinite darkness. The cultivators in the black tower believe that this pit connects to the infernal world deep within the tower, and it serves as their path to higher cultivation.

In one corner of the cultivation chamber, mysterious artifacts are placed. These artifacts are enshrouded in a suffocatingly evil aura, as if cursed by hell itself. These artifacts are used by the cultivators during their practice in the black tower. They possess unusual powers, yet bring endless disaster and destruction with them. Here, only the truly brave can withstand the pressure induced by the artifacts and draw strength from them.

The first level of the Black Tower, dark and horrifying. The darkness devours everything, with demons and monsters lurking in the shadows, ready to attack unsuspecting individuals.

However, the second level of the Black Tower reveals a landscape entirely different from the surface.

The second level, in stark contrast to the gloomy and desolate first level, is remarkably different. The walls of this level are covered with carefully crafted stone carvings, each stone brimming with a sacred glow, like translucent crystals. The murals depict sun-drenched fairylands with lush green grass, beautiful yet mysterious.

The air inside the Black Tower is no longer damp and chilly; instead, it is filled with a warm and pure feeling. A beam of Bodhi Buddha light shoots in from a large window above, casting reflections on each wall. This kind of radiance, holding endless energy and hope, infuses new life into the Black Tower.

Walking down the brightly lit hallway feels like being in a sea of flowers. On both sides of the wall, tall spirit grass and delicate flowers are adorned, exuding a tranquil refreshing fragrance. Kaleidoscopic butterflies flutter in the air, adding a touch of vitality to the interior of the Black Tower.

The main hall of the Black Tower is filled with a solemn and sacred aura. It is a birdhouse-style building; the roof is engraved with various shapes of immortal birds, the entire roof looks like a soaring phoenix, flying high. The main entrance of the hall, made from ebony and fine gold, radiates a sense of grandeur and solidity.

As soon as you walk into the main hall, a magical power hits you as though it could merge into the depths of your soul and cleanse your body and mind. Seats filled with divinity are neatly arranged, and on the altar in the center of the main hall, placed a Sacred Shield. A Divine Sword that gleams brilliantly pierces the shield, emitting a clear light.

The third level is a spacious and bright hall, where the morning light from the transparent glass windows filters in, bringing a touch of warmth to the entire space. In the center of the hall stands a huge eight immortals table laden with various delicacies and fairy products, emanating tempting scents.

The cultivators in the Black Tower wear simple Taoist robes, their expressions peaceful as they eat breakfast lively in front of the table. Some of them are masters of the Cultivation World, and some are ordinary mortals, but here, they are all equal and harmonious beings. Cultivators exchange cultivation experiences, share human stories, and there is sincere friendship and trust among each other.

The corridors on both sides of the hall feature various immortal artifacts such as swords, fans, zithers, and books. Each of them reveals a sense of tranquility and peace. People can freely take Immortal Artifacts they need to assist them in their cultivation. Selfless sharing is a tradition here.

In a corner of the hall, there is a light blue small lake. The lake water is clear and transparent, reflecting the blue sky, white clouds, and the figures of cultivators from afar. There is a pavilion by the lake, in which sits an old man on a bamboo chair. White and haggard, he is fishing leisurely.

This old man is the Black Cloud Immortal, the master of the Black Tower, and a universally recognized supremely superior being in the Cultivation World. Although he possesses endless power and wisdom, he leads a simple life within this Nine-Layer Black Tower.

The Black Cloud Immortal is fishing on the edge of the lake. Each motion of his fishing rod is just right, like playing a wonderful piece of music. Occasionally, he would put down his fishing rod, close his eyes to rest his mind, as though communicating with everything in the universe.

The cultivators in the hall are filled awe for the Black Cloud Immortal. They call each other senior brothers or sisters, and the Black Cloud Immortal is their common mentor. He never judges the cultivation level of others and merely guides them on their cultivation path with a peaceful mind.

The interior of the Black Tower is not stunning, but it contains the most primitive path to cultivation. Cultivators find peace and happiness here. They no longer pursue power or fame but only focus on quieting their hearts and cultivating themselves.

The fourth level begins to gradually show the style of a cultivator’s battlefield. An endless platform spreads out, floating on top of a vast floating rock. Upon the stone platform, the cultivators, wearing bright red robes, stand shoulder to shoulder with determination in their eyes. They are both enemies and friends, advancing towards higher achievements here.

At the edge of the platform, undulating cliffs rise and fall, covered with ice and poisonous plants, reaching towards the sky. One misstep and one will fall into extreme danger.

At this moment, an intense battle is about to begin. The cultivators are divided into two teams, at odds with each other.

One team is the cultivators in glass war robes. They cultivate on the path of the miraculous, possessing the ability to control illusions and phantasmagoria. Like a group of ghosts, they are daring enough to confront the enemy but can disappear in an instant, making it hard to defend against.

The other team is the cultivators in flammable robes. They practice the art of flames. They perfectly combine their bodies and primordial spirits, capable of summoning blazing flames in battle to burn everything in their path. They are calm and composed, enveloped by flames, like a group of phoenixes born from flames.

Suddenly, with a loud noise, the battle begins. Savage strength and clever skills intertwine, with the fire and phantasm slicing through the air, forming countless arcs. The battle between fire and water, ice and fire, envelops the entire battlefield under a veil of suffocating smoke.