Chapter Twenty-Four: The Shattering of the Barrier

The battle above the nine heavens was far beyond anything Chen Hongxu and his companions, still standing on the ground, could comprehend. Even the string of realm levels mentioned were unheard of. Retracting his gaze from the raging energies filling the sky, Chen Hongxu approached Fan Caobao. By now, he had overcome the dizzying sensation that came from his soldier’s embryo fully leaving his body. A powerful, tangible spiritual energy was taking root in every corner of his being; it seemed now, with a mere lift of his hand, he could command vast swathes of the world’s spiritual energy. With a casual stride, he might flash across dozens of meters, as if a fish swimming in water—air was no longer a hindrance, but a source of strength.

Chen Hongxu recognized that this state was the manifestation of having reached a graded level of cultivation. He felt not a trace of delight in his heart. He helped up Fan Caobao, whose body was already mostly healed by the golden light constantly emerging, and spoke in a deep voice, “I’m sorry.”

Fan Caobao’s arms were covered in runes, flickering with the light of extinction. The most remarkable was the half-drawn rune on his forehead, which, when the golden light flashed, occasionally emitted a sizzling sound.

Fan Caobao seemed utterly unaware. As Chen Hongxu lifted him to sit, he gazed at the distant sky streaked with red and black, mumbling, “All beings are mere ants. Chen, tell me, is that true? Must one transcend the ordinary to become a saint?”

“I don’t know.” A wave of helplessness surged within Chen Hongxu as he slumped down, uncertain how to explain. He glanced at the bear, still crouching not far away, and asked, “Bear, are you alright?”

The bear shook his head, his body still trembling. He propped himself up and trotted over to Chen Hongxu, sighing, “Caobao, you took the brunt of your pet’s attack. The rest of us who didn’t participate were only brushed by the aftermath. Sister Su and Suning died, but…”

“Pet?” The battered old monk nearby twitched at the corner of his mouth. Was there really such a powerful ‘pet’ in this world?

“But what?” Chen Hongxu was puzzled. Was there another twist to the situation?

“I can’t say for sure. It’s just a feeling I have, best not spoken!” The bear lowered his head, thinking for a while before finally shaking it. He couldn’t find the words, so he squatted, supporting Fan Caobao, scanning the surroundings. Suddenly, he exclaimed, “Eh? Sister Su’s body is gone!”

The bear’s surprise brought Fan Caobao back to himself. He broke free from their hands, staggered to where Su Xiaoxiao’s body had lain, and after a long contemplation, said haltingly, “I remember it was right here.”

He swept a cold glance at those nearby, finding that aside from the old monk who had resisted the attack alongside him, no one else was close enough—or bold enough—to steal the body while the soldier spirit was still present.

Fixing his gaze on the old monk, Fan Caobao asked, “Excuse me…”

Out of respect for their recent camaraderie, Fan Caobao refrained from acting directly, though he felt a strong urge to kill.

“Fine, since my days are numbered, I’ll answer this big fellow’s doubt.” The old monk’s wrinkled face—wrinkles deep enough to trap a fly—finally opened his mouth after some thought. “As for the man who ascended to emperor in one step, I don’t know what entanglement he had with that female spirit. Their conversation was shielded by the power of rules; if you’re not at their level, not even the legendary ‘wind ear’ could overhear. But one thing is worth noting: that man went up to battle the female spirit not out of vengeance, but as a form of enlightenment and release before death.

And are you sure that girl truly wanted to die? Are you sure she didn’t leave herself a backup plan? There are many ways for a corpse to vanish. I can’t explain each one to you; these are merely my subjective guesses. Don’t let them mislead your thoughts.”

“Truly wanted to die?” Fan Caobao was stunned. He closed his eyes, recalling Su Xiaoxiao ascending toward the lotus—a vague memory, since he was fully focused at the time and could pay scant attention to those around him.

Everyone fell into a brief silence. Chen Hongxu, unaware of what had just happened, had no grounds to interject. But why did this old fellow before him seem so familiar?

Chen Hongxu could be certain he’d never seen this man’s face, yet a sense of déjà vu lingered in his mind.

“Heh, stop wondering. We’ve met before!” The old monk smiled kindly, noticing Chen Hongxu’s odd expression. “Japan, Nara, Tōshōdaiji Temple.”

“It’s you?” Chen Hongxu was taken aback; he hadn’t expected the old man to actually appear, much less to seek him out.

“I journeyed a thousand miles in pursuit, only to find what I sought was but distant clouds, unattainable even at the fringes for someone like me,” the old monk sighed, as if recalling old times.

“Weren’t you searching for the ‘False Erlang God’s third eye’?”

“That thing suppressed me. Though in certain places it could greatly enhance my power, I don’t wish to live as neither man nor ghost anymore,” Sheng replied resentfully.

Seeing Chen Hongxu and the others still wanting to speak, Sheng raised his hand to interrupt. “Now is not the time for idle chatter. In this world or the other, power speaks. You are lucky to have sensed the fluctuations of an emperor-level battle at your stage—most cultivators never encounter such a thing in their lives. But you are also pitiful; if you cannot break free from the psychological oppression of an emperor’s aura, you’ll never achieve much.

So now, immerse yourselves in the spiritual energy stirred by the emperor’s presence.”

“Power speaks, eh?” Fan Caobao pondered, sitting cross-legged with a cold expression to meditate.

The bear, still confused, mimicked him.

The old monk’s words had some effect, helping everyone take a step—however small—out from under the shadow of Su Xiaoxiao’s death. This journey had made them all more resolute in pursuing what they truly desired.

Chen Hongxu glanced at the rare determination on Fan Caobao’s face; in that instant, the man who always kept his head down seemed to have grown up. Chen Hongxu sighed, unable to understand so many things—why they happened, what they meant. He, too, sat cross-legged, consolidating his sudden breakthrough to the graded level.

The old monk frowned, gazing skyward, his eyes flicking between Chen Hongxu and the horizon. He sighed inwardly, “To sense emperor-level energy at the graded stage—such fortune, such opportunity…”

...

No one knew how much time passed; the sky gradually darkened, the mingling of black and red seeming to favor the black. Yet for some reason, whenever anyone glanced at the red threatening to cover the sky, they felt a rush of awe.

The heavens held neither stars nor moon—only darkness at every edge. Suddenly, red mist condensed into a giant hand, and in collective breath-holding, it tore apart the abnormal black fog above.

Clarity returned to their vision. In the far horizon, a frail woman stood atop a golden lotus, spear in hand, confronting a massive, battered human face.

“You madwoman! Emperor-level beings never fight to the death. You madwoman, you’re burning your very essence!” The gigantic face was now clearly afraid—terrified, even.

The soldier spirit smiled silently, glanced at Chen Hongxu—destined never to see her expression or hear her words—and whispered, “Farewell.”

All tenderness and reluctance faded from her face. Within the soldier spirit’s body, a red bead surfaced. With a flick of her wrist, the Breaking Immortal spear tapped the bead several times.

Boom!

The sky blazed crimson, like sunset; those on the ground could not bear to look upon this miracle.

Crack!

After a long while, the red glow faded, and the sky returned to its usual black—now studded with brilliant stars and a milky white moon.

A chorus of glass-shattering sounds drew everyone’s attention. Where the barrier had been, it seemed smashed to bits, pieces falling away one after another.

“Your Excellency is mighty!” Su Daji’s group stared in terror at the now-revealed shape of a massive gate behind the barrier, quickly bowing again in fear.

Yet the soldier spirit was nowhere to be seen.

Contrary to expectations that only ten could enter, it seemed the opening of this gateway to the unknown would throw the world into chaos.

Chen Hongxu and his companions were not frightened, but the huge gate behind the barrier left them dazed—until—

“Brother, I’m lost!” Chen Hongxu felt a tug at his sleeve—something only Xue Xi would do. He turned and looked down to see a tiny, pink hand gripping his sleeve tightly.

Two wildly sticking-up pigtails, the red padded jacket that had terrified him in his mind, and the little girl’s pouty face—all left Chen Hongxu utterly blank.

Hidden Saint 24_ Hidden Saint Full Free Reading_ Chapter Twenty-Four Barrier Shattered Update Complete!