Chapter Sixty-Four: The Ancient Battlefield
Clang!
Ancient golden currents surged forth, filling Luo Hao’s eyes with an old and noble gold, as if he could pierce through the entire mountain wall. Yet, he quickly realized his naivety. The countless crisscrossing sword marks that covered the mountain wall bore no hint of lethal intent, but instead formed a haze of chaos that his gaze could not penetrate.
Luo Hao was astonished—these sword marks were ancient and mottled, their age indeterminate. Some had eroded with time, fading away alongside the mountain wall, while others remained startlingly clear, as if determined to perish together with whatever lay hidden beneath them.
“Damn it, I refuse to believe a mere mountain wall can impede the steps of Luo Hao!” He snorted coldly at the wall, and at once his dragon force roared to life. Within the ancient and noble gold surged a wild dragon’s cry; his golden fist shone like a divine sun, as though myriad dragons screamed within its brilliance.
Strength conquers all!
Yes, strength conquers all. Luo Hao resolved to shatter this mountain wall with sheer force. Gathering his vast, boundless dragon power, he let out a low growl and punched forward—a golden sun crashing down, intent on piercing the wall.
Boom!
An explosive sound echoed. Dragon power flashed, his golden fist struck the sword-scarred mountain wall with unstoppable force. Yet, strangely, despite the tremendous impact, the wall showed no sign of collapsing. Instead, ripples like water waves spread across its surface.
“What’s this?” Luo Hao’s expression shifted abruptly. As he’d suspected, there was more beyond the wall—this was a gateway to another realm.
As the ripples undulated, he felt something behind the wall calling to him, causing the dragon force within him to surge uncontrollably.
“Life and death mean little; one cannot flinch!”
With a grave look, he glanced at the rippling wall, gritted his teeth, and stepped forward into it.
Luo Hao vanished from the cramped space, and the mountain wall, like water disturbed, soon returned to its original state. The sword scars were gone, leaving the wall gleaming smooth, save for a solitary, archaic inscription in a corner.
Hmm!
Having crossed the wall, Luo Hao’s vision was overwhelmed by blinding light, making it impossible to open his eyes. After a few breaths, his eyes adjusted, and as he opened them, his heart felt as if struck by an unseen force.
Vast and endless, scarlet earth stretched for thousands of miles, barren and devoid of a single blade of grass, with a thick aura of wilderness rising. Everywhere he looked was desolation, the horizon unseen. The spirit energy in this land was wild and violent, nearly impossible to refine. If not for his cultivation in dragon force, he would scarcely be able to move here; white mist lingered everywhere.
What unsettled Luo Hao most was the utter absence of any sign of life across the vast land—silent, as if an ancient forbidden ground.
Clenching his fists, Luo Hao moved forward, his expression grave, and with every step the summoning in his heart grew stronger. Yes, that call seemed to come from the very center of this land.
Guided by the call, Luo Hao pressed onward. Across the endless expanse, his silhouette receded, appearing as a tiny ink dot in the distance.
“Is this metal? A bronze sword!” Passing beneath a low, raised hill, his foot struck something hard. Bending down, Luo Hao discovered a bronze sword, rusted and almost broken.
Although it was damaged beyond recognition, Luo Hao was amazed to find that its blade was still sharper than many spirit treasures. Clearly, in its prime, this bronze sword had been a formidable weapon.
“How could there be weapons here? Are there signs of life?” Discarding the broken, lifeless bronze sword, a hint of joy flashed across Luo Hao’s brow as he strode up to the hill’s summit.
“No way, this can’t be real!”
Atop the hill, Luo Hao looked as if he’d seen a ghost—wide-eyed, breathing heavily, his body trembling, all signs of his agitation.
He stared in disbelief at the scene below the hill: a vast, ancient battlefield shrouded in chaotic mist, wild and deadly.
“Kill! Kill!”
“With my blood, I stain the heavens!”
“A hundred battles without regret, fight to the death and never retreat!”
Within the chaotic mist of the ancient battlefield, boundless fighting will roared and surged, reaching for the heavens, as if it could shatter the skies. Luo Hao’s arrival seemed to awaken these long-dormant battle spirits, and he could hear ancient, ageless cries echoing in his ears.
Time flows, fighting will endures!
Epochs change, battle souls never die!
With each fierce cry, Luo Hao’s throat grew sweet as blood surged wildly within him, burning to break free.
“Battle!”
At that moment, the battle mark on the brow of the nascent spirit in his dantian trembled fiercely, sending a battle sound through the ancient battlefield. In Luo Hao’s astonished gaze, the raging battle will that had threatened to engulf him vanished like a stone sinking in water, converging upon the battle mark within his dantian.
Sensing that the battle will within the chaotic mist could no longer harm him, Luo Hao was stirred—clearly, the call was coming from within that mist ahead.
With the battle mark and the ancient mirror in his dantian, surely nothing within this chaos could injure him. Thinking of the ancient mirror, a supreme artifact, Luo Hao felt reassured. Though the mirror’s interventions were rare, it always acted in moments of life and death.
He sped from the hill into the mist-covered battlefield below. Despite the heavy fog, Luo Hao could see shattered flagpoles scattered across the field, the banners long turned to dust by the passage of time, and broken weapons strewn everywhere.
“A war spear forged from Celestial Star Iron!” Luo Hao picked up a broken spear at his feet, realizing it was made of Celestial Star Iron, now extremely rare on the Ancient Mainland.
Legend held that Celestial Star Iron was a wondrous metal formed from fallen stars, impossibly hard, and any weapon forged from it was at least of celestial treasure rank. Yet this spear was broken in two, and Luo Hao could see clear cut marks at the break. What manner of battle could sever even Celestial Star Iron?
Such metal was precious beyond measure, but sadly the spear in his hand had lost its divine essence, now no more than common iron. He laid down the spear and picked up another artifact nearby, his breath growing heavy—it was an ancient lamp, rusted and long extinguished.
“Divine—Emperor—Heaven—Gold!” Luo Hao’s lips trembled uncontrollably. The lamp base was cast entirely from Divine Emperor Heaven Gold. Even in the bloody chaos of the ancient times, when heroes vied for supremacy, this metal was a coveted treasure among all races.
“Purple Yin True Iron!”
“Heavenly Silver Essence!”
“Fire Separation Divine Stone!”
...
“Mother, tell me this isn’t real!”
As Luo Hao pressed deeper into the battlefield, numbness crept over him. What kind of battlefield was this, where so many metals revered as divine treasures appeared, even if their divinity had faded?
“A war chariot cast from Dark Demon Black Iron!”
Suddenly, a torrent of killing aura soared to the sky; amid the wind and clouds, an ancient war chariot, black as a mountain, thundered into view, causing Luo Hao’s pupils to contract fiercely.
In a daze, he seemed to see an ancient figure wielding a spear, driving the war chariot forged of Dark Demon Black Iron across the battlefield, unstoppable.
Around the chariot lay countless broken weapons, many forged of the rarest metals. But most shocking was a striking dark red bloodstain on the shaft of the ancient chariot.
Staring at the bloodstain, Luo Hao acted abruptly—his figure flashed atop the war chariot. From this vantage, his expression grew ever more grave, the astonishment and confusion in his eyes deepening.
After a long while, standing on the ancient war chariot, Luo Hao withdrew his gaze and sighed mournfully, “So this is a forgotten, lost battlefield of old. But what was the cause for such a war? Why did it become so tragic?”