The Elysium Across Deep Space - Chapter 534: Beyond The Inner Landscape

Glowing blood from his wounds splattered as Shang Yi’s flesh peeled away from his back, exposing his spine. Incredibly, he turned and fled without fighting back.

“The age of myths has perished!” he bellowed, repeating the phrase in hopes of awakening the creatures who flashed by faster than lightning.

Possessing two supreme treasures, Shang Yi fled into the depths of space. This scene left Wang Xuan in awe; one of the universe’s mightiest beings, the tyrannical and cold Sword Madman, had fled in panic. Wang Xuan sighed, a trace of satisfaction flickering through his distress. Yet, his relief was short-lived, and soon he fell silent, his brow furrowed in concern. The scene didn’t sit right with him.

He watched the external world, eyeing his collapsing inner landscape. The fire had died down to embers, and the lingering smoke sent shivers down his spine. It was eerily unsettling. Had Shang Yi not been there, what would have become of him in such a situation? Witnessing Shang Yi being hunted and bleeding as he fled had initially pleased Wang Xuan, but now a chill ran through him from head to toe. Normally, his inner landscape would decay and dissolve on its own, and he might have been anticipating the birth of a new inner landscape, a sense of achievement in rebirth.

But what if, at that moment, several bloodied, dying creatures suddenly tore through the old landscape barriers and attacked him? Even Shang Yi, a formidable and ruthless being from ancient times who virtually dominated his era, had chosen to flee! Wang Xuan felt a cold dread.

Without Shang Yi, had he encountered this himself, how horrific might it have been? What in the world were those creatures? They were too fast, and although he was in a special state, floating with the three light orbs in the void, he could see the external world, but not clearly. He had long known there was something amiss deep within his inner landscape. Originally, through his Spiritual Heaven Eye, he had seen the dying fire and noticed creatures splattering blood on the inner landscape wall and being dragged away. That had made him deeply uneasy.

Today, that metaphorical “paper window” was pierced by Shang Yi, and those creatures had found him as a result.

Wang Xuan showed a look of surprise, entirely devoid of sympathy. There was no time for distraction.

“I must save Qingyao!” Without hesitation, he dashed toward the mystical pool in the realm of the void, intending to retrieve the astonishingly active substance and bring it back to the real world.

“This has nothing to do with me!” Shang Yi roared from the depths of the universe, his eyes aflame with fury. A tumultuous surge from the supreme treasures followed, sending waves of endless light spreading through the cold, dark void.

The creatures were bizarre. Clearly on the brink of death, their blood drained and bodies once sprawled lifelessly near Wang Xuan’s inner landscape. Yet now, they briefly revived in a mad frenzy. On the verge of death, they seemed desperate to grasp at Shang Yi, chasing his form. As the light from the treasures swept over, they vanished. Then, resonating with the treasures, they caused Shang Yi to cough up blood uncontrollably.

“Take this, it holds the power of rules, it can extend your lives!” Bloodied and both shocked and enraged by the turn of events Shang Yi had never anticipated, he threw out the Purple Dawn Converging Sword. As it activated mid-flight, its blade radiated with murderous energy, its purple light sweeping across the void like an ocean.

The creatures ignored the broken sword. Their forms flickered from solid to ethereal, evading the boundless sword light, then reappeared, still in harmony with the Dao, continuing their relentless assault on Shang Yi. It must be said, Shang Yi’s prowess was not limited to his combat skills; his ability to flee was also exceptional. He pierced through the void, disappearing in an instant, crossing the cosmos.

Unfortunately, the creatures locked onto him, unyieldingly tracking him. Thus, they pursued him through the vanishing realness of space, somehow utilizing the last remnants of rules from the crumbling celestial realm, following him relentlessly.

Shang Yi shouted, his face darkening with anger, “You’ve got the wrong person, it’s not me!” His back exposed bone through torn flesh, his arm missing a large chunk of muscle, his entire body drenched in blood—such a severe loss was unprecedented in recent times.

In an instant, he returned, luring the few chasers towards Wang Xuan, pointing and shouting, “It’s him!” With well-measured force, he kicked Wang Xuan’s battered body towards them, intending to gift them what he deemed a fitting present.

This caused the already collapsing inner landscape to roar thunderously, for it had not completely detached and destroyed yet. The few beings once again turned ethereal, passing straight through Wang Xuan without shifting their focus, steadfastly continuing their pursuit of Shang Yi. Moreover, because the collapsing inner landscape violently shook from the impact of Wang Xuan being kicked, the remnants of the firepit behind the barrier were disturbed, kicking up dust and further inciting the ferocity of the pursuers.

Shang Yi tore through the void, moving swiftly away, but he couldn’t shake them off. In desperation, he grabbed the Sword Fairy, who was floating in the distance, and hurled her towards his pursuers. This only worsened her already cracked and bleeding form, almost causing her to completely disintegrate. His intent to leave a whole corpse, leaving a trail of blood was an attempt to lure those beings away. “This woman’s body still contains a vast amount of blood essence, unlike that decayed body earlier!” he yelled as he turned to flee again, piloting the Ascension Banner. His silhouette blurred in an instant.

“Wang Xuan!” cried out in response, faintly seeing the scene from afar. He wished he could tear Shang Yi apart, especially now that the Sword Fairy’s condition had worsened.

He hurried towards the mystical pool, but without the God-Slaying Banner and the Elixir Furnace, his speed was significantly reduced compared to before. Fortunately, although he felt as if ages had passed in his urgency, only a short time had elapsed in the external world—this place seemed to “steal time.”

“Everyone, I did not intend to disturb you, today’s offense was accidental. I can compensate and extend your lives,” Shang Yi declared as he continually swung the Ascension Banner and tried to activate the Elixir Furnace, but he still couldn’t hit those few.

Despite the collapse of the great barrier and the extinguishing of the celestial realm, those peculiar beings were still able to utilize the lingering echoes of supreme rules and resonate with the treasures.

The entities flickered between the corporeal and ethereal, their resolve fixed on him. Now, all Shang Yi could do was endure, survive these final moments, and hope they would perish soon; otherwise, he was doomed.

“I’ve found a blood pool in the highest realm of the spiritual world; you should know what that means—it’s not too late to head there now!”

However, to his horror, the beings were unswayed. With a gruesome sound, his neck was seized, flesh torn away in chunks, and fragments of rules nearly stripped his spine bare.

“Stop chasing me!” he cried out, his voice laced with terror. Even someone as formidable as Shang Yi wanted nothing more than to escape these monstrous beings, not to fight them to the death.

“Listen carefully, it’s not just any higher spiritual realm, but the highest one’s blood pool, potent enough to extend your lives!”

Some of his words held truth. In a secret location within the highest spiritual realm, he indeed had discovered a great fortune, albeit fraught with danger that could annihilate any intruder instantly. His spirit within this body was no weaker than the one in his true form, thanks to his ties with the highest spiritual realm. There, Shang Yi had found the supreme spiritual blood pool, which could nourish spirits. At that time, he daringly split his main spirit into two—one in his true body, and the other implanted into the flesh of the first being.

Using the spiritual blood pool, he nourished the spirits over eons, slowly restoring them and elevating them to the pinnacle that the celestial realm permitted. Of course, those initial days were excruciating, driving him to madness, thus spawning the legends of the ancient madman. With a brutal tear, one of Shang Yi’s arms was ripped off, eliciting a guttural scream from him. He had never imagined, even as the end of the mythic era approached, that he would endure such brutal trials.

“It’s just numbers, just the ability to wield the highest rules, right? If it were one-on-one, who’s to say who would kill whom?” Shang Yi roared defiantly, activating both treasures in a desperate stand.

Moments later, his body exploded into a mist of blood, swiftly fleeing. The entities immediately gave chase. However, back at the original location, the true form of Shang Yi reappeared. He had used the Cicada Shedding Technique; after his body was blown apart, he wrapped some shell fragments and blood mist around the lid of the Elixir Furnace, luring the creatures away.

Shang Yi, carrying the Elixir Furnace and the Ascension Banner, didn’t look back as he made a silent, swift escape towards his mothership. This place had become untenable. However, no sooner had he boarded his spacecraft than those same creatures appeared again not far off, abandoning the furnace lid and blood mist to lock on to him once more.

“Set course! Fire at will!” he commanded.

Shang Yi knew those creatures wouldn’t last much longer, already at death’s door, their blood drained, and having broken through the inner landscape wall, they were doomed in this era of mythic silence. It was now a waiting game, a test of endurance between him and the creatures. As long as they didn’t catch up, time was on his side. Meanwhile, Wang Xuan reached the pool’s edge, harvesting celestial medicine and then drawing the silver celestial liquid directly with his spirit, lacking any container for transport. He set off on his return journey, trailing a cascade of silver waterfalls behind him, finally making his way back to the command soil, nearing the real world.

“The command soil is scorched beyond recognition, who knows what effects that will have,” he mused heavily, reflecting on his costly encounter with Shang Yi.

The silver substance surged out of the command soil with him, and his somewhat decayed body automatically absorbed it, so grave were his injuries. As for his old spirit, it had already been bathed and purified in the life pool; that part was no longer much of a concern.

“Hmm? Where are the three light orbs?” he exclaimed in surprise. The orbs, symbolizing his new spirit, new body, and new inner landscape, had followed him back, but now they were nowhere to be seen, momentarily beyond his sense.

His spirit and flesh unified, he instantly felt excruciating pain, his body felt as if it were being torn apart; from his organs to his bones, densely packed with fissures. The injuries were extremely severe, not to mention the horrific burns left by the red substance.

Wang Xuan’s eyes snapped open, urgency propelling him as he rushed to Jiang Qingyao. She lay motionless in the icy vacuum of space, her life force flickering dangerously close to extinguishing.

Shang Yi’s actions had been ruthless. He had cast her from the Life-Preserving Furnace and then hurled her towards the mysterious creatures—each movement inflicting further trauma upon her already frail body.

Silver essence cascaded down like a celestial waterfall, enveloping the Sword Immortal. The potent life force began to nourish her shattered body and dimming spirit, stabilizing her condition and initiating a slow recovery.

Wang Xuan frowned, the universe had changed— even the miraculous effects of the celestial liquid seemed drastically reduced. He squeezed the juice from freshly picked celestial herbs, dropping it into Jiang Qingyao’s mouth for her to absorb rapidly.

“Even the celestial herbs are less effective?” His expression darkened with the realization that the splendid era of myths had passed, and the human world was now devoid of the supernatural.

Unbeknownst to him, having been in the void, the outside world had undergone catastrophic changes. The realm of the Transcendent was fraught with calamities and screams of despair. On this day, all beings of supernatural power who lacked divine relics had fallen multiple minor realms—at least three or four, with many plummeting six realms.

Moreover, some individuals, amidst these violent shifts, experienced their foundational cores shattering, leading to death from hemorrhaging through all orifices. These were predominantly among the ranked immortals. Lower-tier supernatural beings, in comparison, were somewhat safer. Those not perched so high fell less harshly, with some reverting to mere mortals. Among the mightiest gods and legendary immortals, however, the fall had been devastatingly brutal, with some perishing outright.

“I seem to have fared rather well?” Wang Xuan murmured to himself, looking down at his own body. He too was consuming the celestial herbs voraciously and using the silver liquid for nourishment, seemingly on the mend.

His injuries were severe, but he had not suffered a rending of his life’s essence or other similarly grave damages, thanks to his retreat into the depths of the command soil and his respite in the void, shielding him from the most lethal impacts.

“Mech-Bear, where are you?!” Wang Xuan’s voice echoed through his spiritual realm, desperate to leave this perilous location. Sadly, there was no reply; the silver spacecraft had vanished without a trace.

He checked his condition; he was still at tier fourteen, seemingly unscathed. However, he knew better. His inner realm had collapsed, his body had lost much of its essence, and he urgently needed to recuperate to hasten the revival of the three light particles for their natural emergence.

Wang Xuan furrowed his brow. Lingering here was not an option. Jiang Qingyao’s condition was dire, fragile as a candle flickering in the wind, her life’s foundation torn apart, her situation far more critical than his own.

“We must survive,” he murmured, a shadow crossing his heart. The age of myths had ended, everything was over. The extraordinary healing methods that once worked were likely useless now, their potency diminishing by the day.

He hurriedly scavenged for items around him, retrieving the Purple Dawn Convergence Sword and, further away, the lid of the Life-Preserving Furnace. He gathered them for defense.

Staring at the fragments of the Godslaying Banner and the Banner of Severence, he fell into a pensive silence. These were not supreme relics; had they been components of such, they wouldn’t have been destroyed.

“All of you, along with this era, my old self, the Transcendent world, and the mythos—are we all to decay?” Wang Xuan sighed softly.

He then turned his attention to his still-open but rapidly collapsing inner realm, on the verge of completely detaching and losing connection. The area was shrouded in mystery. He had been too preoccupied with rescuing others earlier to inspect it closely. The fire pit, though extinguished, still emitted a supernatural radiance.

Wang Xuan contemplated his next steps, troubled by the diminishing efficacy of the celestial liquid. “I haven’t lost any levels, the essence of the Transcendent still resides within me—can I still recover? But Qingyao’s life soil has shattered, the Transcendent essence is receding from her, can the silver celestial liquid truly not awaken her?”

With a determined grit, he lifted the nearly lifeless body of Jiang Qingyao and plunged into the depths of the collapsing inner realm. Crossing a threshold he had never before breached, he pressed toward the extinguished fire pit, driven by a last sliver of hope.