Chapter 53: The Celestial Phenomenon and the Laying of the First Plan

“Heaven-Encompassing Divine Sovereign—indeed, it encompasses all phenomena, all things between Heaven and Earth. This honorific draws upon the very fate of Heaven and Earth,” the Daoist Priest said, forming a Taiji seal and bowing to Shangguan Chuan Yun.

Hearing this, Shangguan Chuan Yun found the title fitting, especially as he happened to possess the Celestial Armillary Sphere. Yet, the rank of 'Divine Sovereign' felt somewhat lofty. Within the hierarchy, there were Heavenly Sovereigns, Dao Sovereigns, Immortal Sovereigns, and Divine Sovereigns. For ordinary people to take such titles invited calamity within three days; should they survive, the next tribulation would soon follow, and if not, their soul would be scattered for eternity.

In his previous life, Shangguan Chuan Yun rarely used even a Daoist title. In that era, two great Daoist sects and countless smaller ones divided the land into north and south, each holding a distinct Dao. The south was Orthodox Unity, the north Complete Reality.

Those with the title 'Zi' were typically Golden Core Realms, while those with generational names were merely disciples.

In his past life, Shangguan Chuan Yun’s given name was Shangguan Yun. He inherited the Sword Immortal’s legacy, and his generational name was 'Chuan,' thus, Shangguan Chuan Yun.

Although he was neither a True Person nor an Immortal, to call himself a Divine Sovereign was indeed high. Yet, if he was to recall his past, he must accomplish the deeds befitting a Divine Sovereign. Even if tribulation awaited, he would not shrink from it.

So, he merely nodded.

The Daoist Priest spoke again, “You must seal your birth characters and your three souls and seven spirits, to prevent evildoers from harming you with sorcery.”

“Well said,” Shangguan Chuan Yun agreed.

“Divine Sovereign, do you possess a method of concealment?” the Daoist asked.

Shangguan Chuan Yun knew that such arts were fundamental for any Daoist initiate. In ancient times, shamanic curses were rampant, and countless fell prey and died young—some even true immortals succumbed to such maledictions. Later, a Celestial Sovereign transmitted the Art of Concealment to counter these threats, preventing Daoist disciples from falling to curses.

Concealment arts became widely used to avoid disasters, fend off sorcery, and ward off evil.

He, too, had mastered this art long ago and had already hidden his soul.

“At dawn’s first light, my master bade me conceal myself; three souls dwell in azure clouds, seven spirits in the ninefold heavens. The disciple’s body has no hiding place, so within the Iron Ox’s belly I conceal myself. I respectfully call upon the Six Southern Stars and Seven Northern Stars.”

This technique was so mysterious that no one could trace it. When performed, not even one’s closest kin could discern it—only the practitioner himself knew. It was far superior to the concealment methods of a certain scholar named Harry Potter.

Shangguan Chuan Yun replied, “I have inherited the arts of concealment. Thank you for your concern, Master.”

After some thought, he concluded it was better to enter tribulation willingly than await it; the Celestial Armillary Sphere’s functions were still a matter of speculation. All matters must be faced head-on. He said, “At present, I have some confidence in Lan Feng, but Nan Guo is exceedingly strange. I must trouble Master with that place.”

The Daoist replied, “Rest assured. Leave Nan Guo to me. However, the wolf demon of Black Wolf Mountain in Lan Feng has only just gained power. Divine Sovereign, you must not be careless.”

“Thank you for the warning. I understand.”

The next day, Shangguan Chuan Yun found Zhao San still hanging from a tree by the guards. Though the man was detestable, he had a mother to care for; Shangguan placed a qi restriction on him and let him go. Pitiful as he was, he was not beyond redemption—so long as he did not court death, there was no need to send him to the other side.

Shangguan Chuan Yun left the Eastern Peak Temple with his guards, seeing the Daoist Priest off. They exchanged means of contact and assigned Jia Cheng to handle support matters. Under the Daoist’s gaze, Shangguan Yun boarded the carriage and set off for Lan Feng County, now plagued by the Wild Dog Demon.

The Daoist Priest returned to his mountain, took his ritual implements, and headed straight for Nan Guo County.

Inside the carriage, Shangguan Chuan Yun pondered his next steps. Though he called himself Heaven-Encompassing Divine Sovereign, he was at a loss for what came after. In this world, demons and monsters ran rampant—kill one, and more would appear, as inexhaustible as spring grass.

Such a climate demanded fundamental change; only a transformation of Heaven and Earth would suffice.

He polished his sword, gazing at its three-foot blade, cold and sharp. Ultimately, all depended on this sword—his most vital means of attack. Three feet long, forged in the standard style, its form was ancient and elegant, but after nurturing it with sword-raising methods, it had become lively, sheathed in a faint outer glow.

To sweep away the world’s monsters and transform Heaven and Earth, force would be necessary. Though his sword casket housed a flying sword three inches long with great destructive power, it was reserved for special circumstances—using it depleted his inner energy quickly and could only be a last resort.

Moreover, the main purpose of the flying sword was to comprehend the Dao of Heaven and Earth—it functioned like a receiver, tuning to the spiritual frequencies of the cosmos.

At the very core of the Celestial Armillary Sphere was a mass of gray mist, the so-called Palace of Supreme Unity.

The Emperor of Supreme Unity sits at the head, known as the Lord of Mud Pill, sovereign of all spirits, illuminating the spirit of knowledge—the very soul of man.

Every part of the Celestial Armillary Sphere corresponded to some aspect of Heaven and Earth; the human body was a microcosm of the cosmos, forming a complete cycle.

In his past life, Shangguan Yun had placed the three-inch flying sword in the Palace of Supreme Unity, making it the instrument’s heart. Since not even the Celestial Armillary Sphere had been destroyed, the flying sword must still be there.

It was merely a matter of time; all he had to do was cultivate step by step. When the moment was right, it would reveal itself.

Suddenly, the carriage stopped on the main road. Outside, the sound of galloping hooves approached. Shangguan Yun heard Commander Wu say, “Young Master, we have arrived at Lan Feng County. Shall we proceed?”

Shangguan Chuan Yun, having prepared all morning, was ready. It was now midday—the moment had arrived, though what awaited him was unknown.

He asked, “What is the situation in the county?”

Commander Wu replied, “Young Master, our scouts report the streets are deserted. Occasionally, dog-headed, human-bodied monsters prowl. However…”

“However what?” Shangguan Chuan Yun pressed.

Commander Wu hesitated, then said, “I went to see for myself. There are screams from within the city, and the air is thick with blood. In my opinion, there are still living people, but the county has become a slaughterhouse.”

Shangguan Chuan Yun stepped out of the carriage and used his aura-sighting technique. He saw a layer of black mist enveloping Lan Feng County, shot through with eerie strands of red. He could discern this because of his technique; Commander Wu recognized it from long experience in battle, sensitive to the scent of blood and death. Thus, it was no surprise he could sense it.

“Just as I thought. Pass the order—prepare for battle at any moment. If anything is amiss, show no mercy,” Shangguan commanded.

“Yes, Young Master,” Commander Wu replied.

The carriage reached the city gate, which was intact but stained with fresh blood. A group surrounded the carriage, all alert. The guards drew their long blades; even Jia Cheng and Jia Liang readied their weapons. Jia Cheng wielded a steel whip lined with barbs, while Jia Liang carried a flying claw with a fist-sized iron weight at its base—a curious weapon, serving as both claw and meteor hammer.

Inside the gate, the streets were splattered with blood, and the very air reeked of it. Shangguan Chuan Yun felt uneasy, circulating his internal energy to steady himself.

All was eerily silent, heightening the tension. Shangguan Chuan Yun gripped his scabbard with his left hand, thumb poised at the guard.

He also sensed his sword reacting: it grew warm, as if gathering power.

Some doors were tightly shut, others wide open. The shops lining the street were all closed, and there was no clutter—an ominous sign. Shangguan guessed that those behind closed doors might still be alive, while open doors meant the occupants had likely met their end.

After a while, he asked, “Commander Wu, how much farther until we exit the city?”

Commander Wu, recalling the layout of Lan Feng County, answered, “Young Master, once we pass the yamen ahead, it’s just a little farther to the city’s edge.”

Shangguan Chuan Yun considered that unless the problem was dealt with, they might never escape—who knew whether the Wild Dog Demon was watching them even now.

“Double the vigilance. We’ll go to the yamen first,” he said.

“Yes.”

At that moment, everyone caught the scent of boiling meat.

Smoke curled from the direction of the yamen—someone was cooking. The guards looked to Shangguan Chuan Yun, and Commander Wu asked, “Young Master, what do we do?”

Shangguan Chuan Yun mused, whether fortune or calamity, there was no avoiding it. Either way, they must pass the yamen. Besides, he had resolved the night before to purge the world of monsters and establish order. Any who defied his creed would meet but one fate: death.

He must face it now or forever be haunted. “Let’s go to the yamen.”

The carriage rolled slowly toward its destination. Rounding a corner, they saw the yamen gates—and were met with a scene of utter absurdity.

A group of dog-headed, human-bodied creatures stood at the yamen gates, all dressed in ludicrous, mismatched official attire. At their head stood one in golden, openwork robes—half armor, half regalia—a golden dog’s head topped with a black official’s hat.

“What now, Young Master?” Commander Wu asked.

“Keep going. Let’s see what they intend,” Shangguan Chuan Yun replied.

They stood there, aping the manner of officials, though seemingly without murderous intent. The carriage stopped at the gates; the guards surrounded it, tense.

The gold-clad dog-headed leader stepped forward and announced, “Young Master, this official has awaited your arrival. A meal has been prepared—please enter and enjoy it.”

Shangguan Chuan Yun gazed at the creature, amused that it fancied itself a magistrate, complete with hat and golden armor. He said, “Heh, truly a dog of an official. I don’t recall us being acquainted—no need to entertain me.”

The dog-headed creature, delighted at being called an official, wagged its tail furiously and kowtowed with the force of a landslide. “Thank you, Young Master, for bestowing office upon me!”