Chapter 1752. The Path of Deception and the Path of the Strange: You Are About to Face Great Calamity

As the rolling black mist engulfed everything, in the next moment, there was no trace of green mountains, bright sun, Buddhist temples, or ancient shrines.

A mass of foam-like substance layered and collided, then kept expanding. Lightning intertwined within, and blood-colored light collided and shone, reflecting countless scenes—mundane dynasties, the human world of rivers and lakes, immortal realms, Buddhist sects, and Daoist halls.

The white-clad beauty standing beside her had a flicker of surprise and shock in her eyes as she observed the spectacle.

She had long heard of the strangeness of the Tian Shuizhong; it was said that the Tian Shuizhong was the most enigmatic of the Eight Factions.

The Tian Shuizhong realm was formless, invisible, desireless, and colorless. It was a heaven of emptiness without boundaries, a heaven of reality without boundaries, and no sentient being could find or enter it.

Even knowing the entrance to the Tian Shuizhong, no being could step foot inside, for what was seen or heard might all be false. Perhaps in one moment it was real, but in the next, everything before the eyes would turn into a fleeting illusion.

“Priestess Qiluo, you overpraise me. This simple illusion cannot escape your eyes,” Wuxuzi said with an unchanged expression, still smiling.

“Since the fragmentation of Dai Tian, the ancient Eight Factions no longer exist. The surviving Eight Sub-Factions evolved from them and cannot compare to the original Eight Factions. Yet, as it appears now, the Tian Shuizhong is far from simple—it seems to revive the grandeur of the ancient Tian Shuizhong. No wonder it dared to discuss a dangerous scheme with me…”

Priestess Qiluo’s flirtatious demeanor vanished, replaced by clear and serene eyes that seemed to pierce through Wuxuzi’s soul.

“Priestess Qiluo, you overpraise. Tian Shuizhong merely struggles to survive in the cracks. Without some skill, it would have already been eradicated by the Tianzhong,” Wuxuzi smiled lightly, saying no more, and gestured a polite invitation ahead.

Priestess Qiluo’s eyes shimmered as she lightly glanced at the white-clad beauty beside her. She said, “Liuyun, wait for me outside.”

“Yes, Priestess Qiluo,” the white-clad beauty bowed respectfully.

With that, Priestess Qiluo moved forward gracefully, exuding a faint, lingering fragrance, walking straight into the foam-like illusion as if unconcerned by any danger.

Soon, ripple after ripple spread, the foam-like substance fragmented and reformed, swallowing and concealing Priestess Qiluo’s figure.

Wuxuzi followed swiftly and disappeared as well.

When the ripples faded, the scenery returned to calm. The desolate mountains and ruined temple reappeared, and the previous scene seemed like an illusion.

Liuyun lowered her head, a strange light flashing in her eyes, but she remained obediently standing there. She glanced at the villager beside her, who had been frightened into stupefaction, and, after a brief thought, wiped his memory of these events and sent him hundreds of miles away to the foot of the mountain.

The Tianzhong and the Eight Sub-Factions had always been antagonistic.

The Tianzhong, having inherited the majority of Dai Tian’s legacy, had long claimed the mantle of Dai Tian’s orthodoxy, repeatedly eradicating the Eight Sub-Factions over countless eras.

As the Fourth Priest of the Tianzhong, Priestess Qiluo had chosen this moment to enter the entrance to the Tian Shuizhong alone.

If she had no connection with Tian Shuizhong, Liuyun would not have believed it. Yet Priestess Qiluo displayed such calmness and confidence, revealing all in front of her without fear of being discovered.

Liuyun did not know whether this was a deliberate test by Priestess Qiluo or if she simply did not care, showing complete disregard for the consequences of being noticed.

Priestess Qiluo suspected her identity—was she sent by the Grand Priest to monitor her?

Thinking this, Liuyun lowered her head further.

The Tianzhong appeared to be under the authority of the Grand Priest, yet internally, currents of intrigue flowed, and every priest represented different factions and interests.

Even the Grand Priest’s trusted subordinates—the main priests—did not necessarily fully support him.

This time, the Grand Priest acted unilaterally, instigating the Black Tide Turmoil and threatening the realms to hold the Grand Ritual, touching upon the private interests of several priests.

Were it not for the overwhelming prestige of the Grand Priest, some priests would have already opposed him, possibly even retaliating.

Liuyun knew that the Peace Pact between the Zhengyi Alliance and the Tianzhong occurred because a few strong priests intervened, negotiating with the Zhengyi high-level leaders, creating the current outcome.

In truth, many Tianzhong priests did not wish to expose themselves prematurely, let alone incite the Black Tide Turmoil.

The consequences would be severe; the counterattack of all races across the vast world was formidable.

Though the Tianzhong had regained much of its strength, it was still far from the powerful era of Dai Tian.

Despite Tianzhong’s apparent might, initiating the Grand Ritual prematurely had already depleted much of its resources and strategies.

Each priest’s faction paid a heavy price.

The Grand Priest cared not for the consequences; her only desire was to conduct the Grand Ritual to resurrect the former Lord of Dai Tian.

She was willing to sacrifice everything, even the Tianzhong itself. Her obsession and madness had become a taboo among the Tianzhong—no one dared speak of it.

“Priestess Qiluo knowingly disregards the fact that I am sent by the Grand Priest to observe her, conspiring with Tian Shuizhong openly—is she truly defying the Grand Priest?”

“What did Wuxuzi’s message to me intend?”

“What did he fear from retribution?”

Liuyun stood silently before the ruined temple, countless thoughts churning.

The Grand Priest, aware of Priestess Qiluo’s suspicions, still sent her to monitor her.

Yet Priestess Qiluo imposed no restrictions and did not mind Liuyun’s presence.

Even speaking ill of the Grand Priest in her presence brought no reaction or restraint.

Liuyun sighed lightly, her clear eyes glancing at the caged Longque. Now, she was no different from it—a plaything, powerless.

Had she had the chance to regret it, would she still have fallen into darkness?

Could one who willingly immersed themselves in dark matter hope for redemption or reversal?

As the foam dissipated, the illusory layers collapsed. Priestess Qiluo appeared in an open field, the farmland stretching into the distance, neat houses dotting the landscape.

Green wheat swayed in the breeze, emitting fresh fragrance. Villagers bent in the fields, weeding and fertilizing—a harmonious and peaceful scene.

No one could possibly connect this with the rumored Tian Shuizhong.

Even Priestess Qiluo seemed momentarily dazed.

In the next moment, the scene changed to a bustling marketplace, people walking and vehicles passing, shouting and bargaining. She even smelled the aroma of meat buns, long forgotten.

“False and real, tangible and illusory, formless and invisible, desireless and colorless—the Tian Shuizhong truly lives up to its name. If I choose to believe this, does it then become real?”

Priestess Qiluo laughed lightly, her gaze unchanged.

The scenery then collapsed, as if washed away by time itself, each fragment drifting and disappearing.

“If what is seen is real, yet Priestess Qiluo refuses to believe it, then it must be false,” Wuxuzi’s voice came from behind.

He remained in his old, stooped form, unchanged.

Priestess Qiluo did not look back and asked lightly, “It is said that the ancestor of the Tian Shuizhong mastered the Path of Reality and Illusion, creating the art of ‘making the false true,’ capable even of reviving true people from the lost records of past ages, transcending the Six Realms of Rebirth and Cause and Effect. Is this true?”

Wuxuzi smiled, “There is no true resurrection in this world. The so-called revival of a real person is merely a similar flower. Perhaps a fragment of the soul is similar, but it is not the person who once was.”

Priestess Qiluo pondered and shook her head.

As the scene continued to shift, dense fog floated around. The mist swelled, collapsed, and seemed to simulate the birth and death of worlds and the universe.

Within the fog, stone steps stretched into the distance. Shadows and eyes seemed to watch from the mist, becoming denser as one moved deeper.

Faint shapes appeared, carrying lanterns, moving as if guiding the way. Eyes flickered in the darkness, cold and piercing.

It was an eerily strange path.

But as the fourth-ranking Tianzhong priest, Priestess Qiluo was far from ordinary. She walked confidently, conversing with Wuxuzi behind her:

“It is said the Lord of Dai Tian once mentioned flaws in the ancestor’s ‘making the false true’ art. By correcting these flaws, the ancestor of the Tian Shuizhong pledged loyalty to the Lord of Dai Tian, leading to the founding of the Tian Shuizhong…”

The fog paused at her feet, as if restrained by some invisible force.

Wuxuzi noticed this and his eyes flickered before returning to a smile.

“Indeed. Among the Dai Tian Eight Factions, except for Shaoyin and Shaoyang, the rest were brought under the Lord of Dai Tian and renamed. The ancestors of Tian Shuizhong did not originally bear that title,” Wuxuzi explained.

“Oh? I wonder if the ancestor is still in the world?” Priestess Qiluo narrowed her eyes.

Wuxuzi smiled mysteriously, “If Priestess Qiluo believes, then he still exists. If you do not, then he does not.”

Priestess Qiluo fell silent, contemplating.

Wuxuzi continued, “The ancestor once traversed several world-destroying cataclysms alone, creating a world of his own from a single grain of dust. Believing this world real, he revived loved ones, friends, and even his homeland. Yet the price was eternal entrapment in his personal illusory dreamscape.”

“The Lord of Dai Tian pointed out flaws in the ancestor’s art and suggested a new path, which also had its shortcomings…”

Wuxuzi stopped, and Priestess Qiluo did not ask further.

Soon, they reached the end of the steps. A grand, ancient palace rose before them, gray and solemn, as if it had existed since the creation of heaven and earth.

In front of the palace, an ancient tree teetered on the edge of death.

On its trunk hung a thin, shriveled figure with five decaying features, robes filthy, hair withered. Its murky eyes lacked any spirit.

Priestess Qiluo looked at the figure with curiosity.

She could clearly sense it was an Ancestor Daoist-level being, a pillar in any force, yet now hanging on a tree, its vitality and cultivation draining.

Wuxuzi explained, “This is a sinner. He was sent to find the First Civilization treasure, the Gate of Immortality, but due to greed, let it fall into others’ hands, thus receiving punishment.”

Priestess Qiluo’s interest was piqued.

The Gate of Immortality? Isn’t it in the hands of the leader of the Fatian Alliance?

It seemed that Tian Shuizhong had secretly contacted the Fatian Alliance.

Yet she did not trust Wuxuzi entirely; such a “crime” could hardly merit such punishment. Something hidden was at play.

“The elders await inside; I shall not accompany you further,” Wuxuzi said.

Priestess Qiluo nodded and walked forward.

The palace doors opened silently. Inside, the fog was densest, gray and impenetrable, revealing only faint silhouettes seated on meditation mats.

In the center, hundreds of flickering candles illuminated the darkness even more ominously.

“Priestess Qiluo, long time no see,” a figure with a ghostly human face and pale body emerged, eyes glowing a ghostly blue.

“Playing tricks,” Priestess Qiluo said calmly, scanning the scene.

The Tian Shuizhong differed from both Immortal and Divine systems; it lay somewhere in between, best described as following the Path of Deception or the Path of the Strange.

“Since we last parted, several hundred eras have passed. Your cultivation has grown ever more profound,” another voice, impossible to discern the gender of—like a child, or a young girl—spoke.

“And what is it you seek this time? Another transaction?” Priestess Qiluo asked simply, avoiding unnecessary words.

“Not a transaction. Only a warning: Priestess Qiluo, you are about to face great calamity.”

From deep within the palace came a bizarre, eerie laugh.

It whispered close to the ear, as if alive, burrowing ever deeper—chilling the listener, threatening to split the scalp.

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