The Elysium Across Deep Space - Chapter 542: A Different Path

Underneath the Life Soil, there is a place called the Ethereal Realm, suspected to be near the true source,” the young man postulated, startling Zhang Daoling. Could there really be a path beneath the Life Soil?

Zhang Daoling, a venerable leader revered for his vast knowledge, had heard tales of such phenomena from the lost super civilizations, but he had never ventured there himself.

“A young man, born of the mortal world and not ascended to the heavens, managed to discover this on his own?” he wondered aloud.

“Underneath the Life Soil, another universe exists? You plant celestial herbs and mine meteor paths there—could it indeed be a genuine path?” Xu Fu also marveled, suddenly caught in a trance.

His curiosity piqued, he remembered their encounters in the secret lands. He had been astounded back then; how could this young man, not an immortal, repeatedly endure the deadly radiations of the lost lands?

“Traversing the Meteor Path, crossing the Sea of Red Mists, could one really enter a vast supermundane world, a realm where myths are perennial and reality unfading?” The Hades Blood Patriarch exclaimed, thrilled by the prospect.

A newfound secret path might indeed be viable, potentially granting new life to myths and reshaping the world of the extraordinary.

Simultaneously, the Patriarch felt a pang of envy, “Growing a few celestial herbs, they thrived like it’s your backyard, casually sipping on celestial tea. Wait a moment… no, that’s not right.”

He snapped back to reality, suddenly thinking of Hengjun’s tea tree that Wang Xuan had casually mentioned. “Young man, weren’t you the one who impersonated me, the Hades Blood Patriarch, killed Zheng Yuantian, and stole Hengjun’s tea tree?” he accused, his eyes widening.

All eyes turned towards him, suspecting the truth of his words.

“That was merely an experiment gone awry,” Wang Xuan explained modestly. “I hadn’t anticipated that the mists rising from the Life Soil could forge a safe passage into the immortal realms.”

Everyone was spellbound by the revelation that the true source might be connected beneath the Life Soil, from where the mists emerged, suggesting a path into the grand barrier above. The possibility sparked a flurry of thoughts.

“Could we have been wrong? Should our exploration have been directed beneath the Life Soil rather than on it? This notion is revolutionary!” Even the Demon Lord was lost in thought.

Yan Mingcheng shook his head, trying to reassure his dear one, “The realm beneath the Life Soil has been known since ancient times. Super civilizations have attempted to explore it, but how many have traversed it without getting lost? In an era dominated by such civilizations, only a handful have succeeded, making it far from universal.”

Bai Jingshu added, “According to fragments from ancient texts, civilizations that possessed the Sovereign Flag and the Curtain of Heaven Mirror tried to explore it but failed, and both civilizations suffered devastating blows, ending in bloody decline.”

“From what you’ve described, only the spirit can enter beneath the Life Soil. If one were to pursue ascension in this manner, approaching the true source might necessitate abandoning the physical body,” Fang Yuzhu spoke up.

The concept of spiritual ascension seemed akin to entering the grand barrier—enduring the onslaught of supreme thunder and relinquishing the physical body to let the spirit enter the immortal realm.

“This is a dilemma,” Wang Xuan nodded. He had always valued the physical body and was not willing to forsake it lightly.

Fang Yuzhu continued, “Perhaps, the realm beneath the Life Soil isn’t a true transcendent world after all. The so-called true source might actually be your physical body. The divine origin starts from the Life Soil and is ethereal, without a corresponding physical site in the body. Maybe the true exploration beneath the Life Soil is a journey within your own body?”

This new perspective took everyone aback; it was plausible. Otherwise, why would the true source never have manifested any signs in the real world? Wang Xuan agreed, having previously harbored similar thoughts.

“After all this discussion, there’s no substitute for seeing it ourselves,” Old Zhang interjected, eager and ready to explore Wang Xuan’s Life Soil.

Wang Xuan nodded, “Agreed, but we must not linger too long, or risk assimilation and fusion.”

The group was intrigued. In a world where the extraordinary was fading, any new path was worth exploring, and they were keen to witness it firsthand.With a series of whooshes, they prepared for their journey into the enigmatic depths beneath the Life Soil.

Beams of spiritual essence flickered and flew, but each participant felt an increasing resistance, a stiffness that was growing day by day. “Time is of the essence. If we delay any longer, will we even be able to project our spirits a few days from now?” the Elder of the Abyssal Blood Sect grimaced, having struggled mightily to detach his spirit from his body.

“It’s quite serious!” affirmed the Demoness Yan Yun, nodding her agreement.

It was becoming evident that in the future, aside from Earthly Immortals, others might find it increasingly difficult, if not impossible, to venture forth in spirit form, stifled by the cosmic forces that were tightening their grip.

“Let’s go,” Wang Xuan led the way, opting not to use the Nurturing Furnace this time as Bai Jingshu’s Undying Umbrella and Fang Yuzhu’s Curtain Bracelet would suffice.

“The path has hardened, it’s more obscure than before; there are complications,” Wang Xuan noted as they traversed the Life Soil, sensing greater resistance than before.

Navigating with the two treasured artifacts took longer than it had previously, but eventually, they arrived near a celestial pool surrounded by small Life Soil hills teeming with vibrant celestial herbs and tea trees, all floating in the profound cosmic void, astonishing those present.

“Let’s have some tea,” Wang Xuan invited the group, plucking tea fruits. This time, lacking vessels, he suggested they collect dew directly from the tea leaves with their spirits, drawing strands of red mist to burn as a cauldron in the void.

“Ah, this is truly splendid,” mused Zhang Daoling, savoring the taste. “Think about it, floating islands in the cosmic void, a lone celestial pool, secluded immortality. Here, one can meditate, sip tea, and contemplate the scriptures. Quite delightful.”

“Can we drink from the pool as well?” asked the Elder of the Abyssal Blood Sect, too lazy to gather dew drops.

“Uh, I use that for bathing,” Wang Xuan cautioned.

The group gave him a less-than-pleased look, having just considered tasting the celestial liquid themselves.

Gathering around in this ancient locale, Wang Xuan shared tales of the void beyond, of creatures he’d seen after the collapse of their inner landscapes, and of the white-haired woman who met her end at the radiation road’s terminus.

“The supremely powerful beings of ancient times merged with the great curtain and attained unity with it. It’s a pity—despite her resolute belief and formidable will, she perished at the end of her path,” Wang Xuan narrated.

The group felt a poignant connection to the story, seeing in her fate a possible reflection of their own futures, risking everything on a path that might lead to similar ends.

Later, they ventured into the meteor pathway. Old Zhang, undeterred by tales of danger, advanced alone with zeal. He indeed made it far but ultimately, scorched and reciting incantations, fled back in a frenzied retreat.

“Why does this place seem familiar, as if I’ve known it?” Fang Yuzhu furrowed her brow, a vague memory stirring within her. Among them, her spiritual essence was so potent that she retained impressions where others did not.

Wang Xuan did not conceal the past. He recounted their history, and the connections they had all once shared here.

“Is that torn skirt of the Demoness, the one found in your possession, from here?” Old Zhang inquired, aware of the incident. It had been accidentally documented in a photo by Qingmu, inadvertently serving as evidence.

The Demoness Yan Yun’s gaze turned murderous at the mention.

“Yan Qingyan, what happened here? Tell me,” her mother Bai Jingshu interjected, her strict upbringing making her concern for her daughter’s seemingly scandalous behavior quite apparent.

Despite the Demoness being nearly three thousand years old, to Bai Jingshu, she was still a young girl not fully grown, prompting her to sternly use her full name.

“Another Qing,” Wang Xuan muttered under his breath, referring humorously to the number of women he knew with the name “Qing,” now totaling three.

The recounting of past events prompted Yan Mingcheng to clap Wang Xuan on the shoulder, chuckling heartily in a manner that only a father protecting his daughter could understand.

If not for Wang Xuan’s ability to withstand the force of a land immortal, Old Zhang and the Bloodshade Hierophant would have surely been flattened to the ground under such power.

“This path is too treacherous,” Fang Yuzhu sighed. “Navigating through the meteor pathway and above, through the sea of red mist, even with divine treasures for protection, it’s unstable. Even land immortals could be incinerated. It’s conceivable that the higher one goes, the more perilous it becomes.”

She lamented the difficulty of this path, which was unique to Wang Xuan’s Underworld Soil; others could not linger long.

“Is it the same beneath the Underworld Soil of everyone?” Old Zhang wondered aloud before shaking his head. They were eager to explore, but at their level of cultivation, the essence accumulated in their Underworld Soil was too “dense.” They would need the aid of a spiritual third eye to ensure they did not get lost.

“Let’s return and arm ourselves with divine treasures. In this special era, we must explore beneath our own Underworld Soil with all our might,” Yan Mingcheng declared.

They returned to the real world, where the Demoness volunteered to lead the way, with Wang Xuan by her side and Bai Jingshu opening the path with the undying umbrella.

“This Underworld Soil is very tough, somewhat difficult to traverse,” Wang Xuan noted. Initially, their progress was smooth, but as they delved deeper, the Demoness Yan Qingyan called a halt, unable to endure any longer.

She felt that, deep into their journey, as the undying umbrella paved the way, her own Underworld Soil seemed as if it was about to be torn apart, making further advance impossible.

Zhang Daoling, Xu Fu, Bai Jingshu, and Fang Yuzhu also tried their hand, finding that the more powerful the individual, the less they could penetrate without risking destruction of their Underworld Soil.

“This is what they mean by ‘deeply rooted,'” Yan Mingcheng commented with a sigh. “It has solidified. Had we not embarked on this path in our early years, now it seems ‘too late to turn back.’ It’s a difficult path to tread.”

Fang Yuzhu added, “Unless one can undergo a complete rebirth like Wang Xuan—spirit, body, and inner landscape—all at once. Perhaps then the Underworld Soil could also be rejuvenated. Only then might we be able to start anew and traverse it completely.”

A thought struck Wang Xuan; his own Life Soil was exhibiting some anomalies—could it be the so-called Nirvana? If so, he was truly reborn from head to toe, from solid to void, from void to solid, rejuvenated in every aspect.

“Can you still sense your three specks of light?” Xu Fu inquired.

Wang Xuan shook his head. Since leaving the Lost Path Cliff, he had lost contact with the three specks of light and could not determine where they had sunk.

“Try with a newcomer. Someone who’s still barely in the Transcendent realm, with low cultivation, whose Life Soil hasn’t solidified yet. Explore beneath them, see if there are any new discoveries.”

“It’s likely fruitless. The Life Soil beneath newcomers is empty and desolate. The ancients and sages have explored this long ago. Perhaps only beneath the powerful beings and those with special Life Soils might there be mutations, mysterious things.”

“Let’s try once more. Take the supreme treasure into the void, travel far enough, and maybe we’ll discover something.”

Promptly, they set about their plan, summoning some of the descendants and followers of Old Zhang and Patriarch Ming Xue.

One by one, the Life Soils of four young people were explored. Wang Xuan personally followed, his spiritual third eye guiding them, ensuring they wouldn’t get lost.

He maneuvered the Celestial Veil Bracelet, speeding along, and beneath the Life Soils, he found desolate areas, gray and grim, unlike his own. His spirit wandered vast distances, encountering not a trace of life. There were no immortal pools, no meteor pathways.

It was a barren land!

The areas beneath the Life Soils of all four young people were the same—nothing remarkable, no chance to cultivate celestial medicines or to unearth paths that approached the true source.

“The three individuals in the Treasure of Life pool,” they said, “their ancestors reportedly came from another distant universe beyond our own. They seek clues to return to their ancestors’ universe, which is said to be a place where myth and technology coexist and cultivation is possible!”

Yan Mingcheng sighed, reflecting on the holders of several supreme treasures, each desiring to tread their own distinct path.

“That distant universe beyond ours is shrouded in mystery. After their ancestors arrived here, some of them turned dark, becoming fallen spirits—corrupted and almost beyond redemption. It’s hard for them to return now,” he explained.

“It’s understood that these beings entered our universe one after the other, yet they appeared in vastly different eras—some thousands of years apart, others tens of thousands. Without reminders, they themselves wouldn’t even be aware!”

“Moreover, some of the fallen spirits mentioned that coming to this universe was meant as a sort of experience.”

But now, even the spirits themselves can’t find their way back, whether they are the regular kind or the brutally corrupted ones; most are lost without a path home.

The holders of the Divine Palace’s supreme treasures, belonging to the Buddhist and Daoist schools, also held divergent views. The Daoists are aggressively ambitious, seeking to contend with the heavens and recreate a small immortal realm, aiming to establish a Heavenly Court.

In contrast, the Buddhists prefer to lie dormant, seeking Nirvana and annihilation, slumbering within the Divine Palace, waiting for the birth of the next supernatural era—a time that will likely come after countless eons, with the normal cycles of human civilization changing countless times.

“Shang Yi is certainly taking the path that breaks through to the highest spiritual world.”

Wang Xuan looked towards Fang Yuzhu, Yan Mingcheng, and Bai Jingshu. What paths would they choose?

“Fang Yuzhu wants to carve out a path between life and death—very radical. Either she succeeds, or she becomes a butterfly in the flames, dancing her final dance. My wife and I, however, prefer a more stable approach…” Yan Mingcheng began, outlining the paths and plans of both Fang Yuzhu and themselves as a couple.