"A golden... bell?" Liu Xing muttered.

Atop him, the golden cloud had transformed into a golden bell. One quite large, taller than him, though not by much. The bell featured intricate patterns, resembling vines, snakes, humans, or perhaps even worms. These patterns were hazy and constantly shifting, like a dream that never settled. The longer Liu Xing tried to discern them, the hazier they became, and he began to feel dizzy, as if he were a mortal who had just consumed a deadly amount of alcohol.

"It's a mental technique," Liu Xing realized with alarm. Only in the Dragon Skull Forest had he encountered a foe using a mental attack, one that coerced him into thinking the spirit beast he tried to defeat was his own mother. He remembered how dangerous such attacks were. Still, while he became more alert and pointed his gun upward, this golden bell somehow did not feel threatening, a fact he needed to acknowledge consciously. What if it's an effect of the golden bell? What if it suddenly unleashes a terrifying attack, but he deems it harmless? An attack like that could kill him.

As Liu Xing pondered the nature of the golden bell and whether it was a trap set by Wei Yi, the golden bell suddenly emitted a loud sound. This sound felt familiar, and soon, memories from the original Liu Xing surfaced. When he was a little boy, his father had taken him to a temple outside the city. It was a modest, small temple, and an ancient monk lived within. He didn't clearly remember what his father did there, but he vividly recalled seeing the monk gently flick his finger, and the bell began to toll. The sound was similar to that: serene, as if it could heal a weary soul. Upon hearing this sound, his body instantly relaxed, and he lowered his gun, inhaling deeply. This golden bell was mysterious, no doubt about it. And although alertness and suspicion still lingered in his heart, he realized the bell probably wasn't trying to harm him.

The bell tolled a second time. The sound resembled the first, yet he sensed they were different. If the first bell felt like it could heal a weary soul, this second bell sounded like it would heal a physical wound, which wasn't entirely impossible. He suspected this bell was a treasure belonging to someone.

The bell tolled a third and fourth time. Each reverberation through the air seemed to calm his body and content his spirit, as if he were a monk who had achieved true enlightenment.

When the bell tolled a fifth time, it emitted a "gong" sound louder than before. The air around the golden bell rippled, and the ripples spread calmly outward, as if the whole world were a serene lake. When the ripples reached the ground, which was upturned and broken, green grass rapidly sprouted, carpeting the area as if it were the most fertile land in the world, where grass could grow in mere seconds. Seeing this, Liu Xing couldn't help but widen his eyes. This was probably a technique, but what was its purpose?

More and more grass sprouted around him, carpeting the upturned soil of the former capital of the Twelve Sun Empire. The area directly beneath the bell—which, coincidentally, was where he stood—became the center of a spreading greenery. Looking around, it was as if this green grass was some kind of liquid spilling across the area and coloring it green. It spread steadily, seemingly intent on transforming the entire area of the capital into a serene and beautiful grassland. Then, flowers began to emerge and bloom. There were blue flowers, yellow flowers, red flowers, purple flowers, pink flowers, and many other colorful blossoms. In just moments, all around him, he saw green grass and colorful flowers entirely carpeting the ground, with blood and charred body parts becoming nutrients for the flora. Looking toward the giant, he saw it entirely covered by greenery and flowers, resembling a long, raised hill.

"What'sactually happening here?" Liu Xing muttered. There was no way this was Wei Yi's work, which solidified his belief that the golden bell was not dangerous, at least not to him. It was still a treasure, but where was the person using it? What was their purpose?

The bell tolled a sixth time, and another ripple spread outward. This time, though, instead of an air ripple, it was a ripple of qi. His eyes couldn't see it, but he could sense it. Suddenly, blue qi began to circle him. The color resembled perfect blue fire, but the shape was like blobs of fire the size of his thumb. Hundreds of them created a small, lazy tornado around him. A moment later, though, they began pulsing, and as if this pulse was expending their energy, they faded from blue to transparent, then vanished from his senses. They were like short-lived creatures that could only exist for a moment. Liu Xing experienced a profound feeling akin to forgetting something supremely important, as if his body recoiled and screamed that those blobs were significant, and yet, nothing about those blobs of blue fire felt particularly special to him. Their quantity wasn't large, their size irregular, and they felt ordinary, yet his gut feeling told him otherwise.

He expected the golden bell to toll for a seventh time. It was a natural thought that arose from nowhere. But, against his expectation, instead of a seventh toll, the golden bell burst into a golden cloud, and the golden cloud dispersed in a lazy ripple of air that traveled across the sky, as if the sky were the surface of a lake. Seeing the golden bell dissipate, Liu Xing stood rooted there, not understanding what had happened. He had a feeling that this golden bell was something special, yet he couldn't remember why it was important. Perhaps it was just his feeling. Perhaps it was some kind of déjà vu. Whatever it was, the appearance of the golden bell marked the end of his fight against Wei Yi.

***

The Five Great Sects possessed many, many treasures. Most of them were stored in their treasure rooms, waiting for the right, accomplished disciple to claim them, but many treasures were also actively used by the sects. The most common treasures the Five Great Sects employed were for defense: treasures that erected bubble-like barriers around them, controlled volcanoes beneath them, managed water currents, influenced cloud movement, and even treasures that cataloged and predicted the behavior of people around the sects. Of course, array formations worked in conjunction with them, and many other treasures, while individually their effect was not significant, combined to create an almost impregnable barrier, solidifying their status as the top five sects in the entire world.

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Aside from defensive treasures and array formations, all of the great sects also had some kind of alert network. Some were connected to their barriers to warn if someone breached them, but not all were that crucial. After all, some alarm networks only triggered if goods entering sect grounds were those they had ordered and other systems catalog them. But there was another type of alarm, one hidden and accessible only to the most loyal, located in the deepest chambers within the great sects.

The Five Great Sects, located in various locations, had different priorities, needs, and definitions of emergency. Yet, in all five great sects, there existed an alarm system that, though crafted by different formation masters, using different methods, and producing it in different ways, served functionally similar purposes. All of them, coincidentally, were bell-shaped. Some were solitary bells, others were array networks of hundreds of bells, and yet, all were bell-shaped.

In the Burning World Sect, in their deepest treasure chambers, an elder so ancient he resembled a mummy sat cross-legged in the middle of the room. His robes were as red as blood, and if a mortal dared to touch him, they would soon burn to ashes. This elder was not among the most talented in the sect, yet he was one of the most trustworthy and just elders in the entire sect. If there were a tournament for the most just person in the world, he would undoubtedly be sent by the Burning World Sect to compete, although whether he would win was another matter.

This elder had been given a simple task: sit cross-legged in the vast room and face a giant bell almost five meters tall. The bell featured ornate designs depicting their sect leader shedding mortality and becoming an immortal. The pattern itself wasn't crucial; if one wished to learn about the ascension of the sect leader, a larger mural depicted it in another chamber, accessible only to the strongest, most loyal, and talented individuals.

This elder understood the significance of the bell before him. It was rare for this bell to reverberate. He had been the guardian of this bell for almost a thousand years, and the times it had gonged could be counted on one hand. Only the most momentous events could trigger the bell, and it was his duty to interpret its meaning.

The elder sat with a straight back, his posture serene, his eyes closed. If someone entered this room unaware of its purpose and the guardian, they would undoubtedly mistake the elder for a statue. His breath was slow, his presence subtle, yet strong cultivators knew this elder was not to be underestimated. Guarding and interpreting the bell was his sole duty, and even as his mind remained vigilant, he could use his time for personal gain, cultivating and comprehending his knowledge and refining it without lifting a finger.

The elder knew that sooner or later, the bell would sound. He had a gut feeling about it, and after thousands years guarding this bell, he trusted his intuition regarding it. And one day, when the air around the bell felt cold and a cloud formed around it, the elder's gut feeling proved true.

Opening his red and blazing eyes, as if his eyes were made of fire, the elder straightened his bent back. In the past, these blazing eyes had been a source of ridicule from his peers. After all, while blazing eyes were a sign of belonging to the Burning World Sect, they were a lesser mark. The primary mark of the Burning World Sect was horn. Some had only a single horn, while others had several. Yet, the elder knew bloodline was merely a tool, and its effectiveness depended on the user. And with these eyes, he saw the giant bell begin to tremble and emit a loud gong.

As the first sound reverberated, the walls of the room began to tremble. The sound was strong and deep. "One," the elder said.

The bell tolled again. This time, instead of a single deep, strong, and short sound, it lingered longer. "Two," the elder said.

Another sound. "Three," the elder said. This time, his brow furrowed slightly.

The elder thought that perhaps this was the last toll the bell would produce this time. After all, three was the most he had ever heard. Three held considerable meaning, and the elder would need to spend a long time interpreting its true significance. It could signify anything, from an unpolished gem destined to leave a deep mark on the world, to a treasure that would shake the entire world, or even the rise of another great sect. He remembered that before the Verdant Mountains Sect rose to prominence and their leader became an immortal, the bell had tolled three times.

When the bell tolled a fourth time, the elder's eyes widened further. "Four," he whispered. But even as the gong's sound still lingered, the fifth sound suddenly followed, and then the sixth.

"Five, and six," the elder whispered, his voice trembling, his eyes wide with disbelief. This elder was known for his unwavering calm. When an enemy had cut him in half and he had nearly died over a thousand years ago, he hadn't even blinked. When his son had died at the hands of a demonic cultivator who had skinned him alive and boiled him in oil, he hadn't lost his composure. And yet, these gong sounds made his heart tremble. It was because of how unbelievable what he just saw and heard was.

"How is this possible?" the elder muttered, "I need to report this to the patriarch!"

He rose to his feet, his mind swirling with questions, his lips muttering as if he were grappling with the most confusing and disturbing puzzle imaginable. Four was a special number. He knew from his master—the guardian of the bell before him—that when the bell tolled only four times, the world would likely plunge into chaos. It was a number with special significance, usually associated with death. This alone wasn't entirely surprising. Ask a random person about the meaning of four, and they would understand its association. Six was also a special number, although its significance wasn't rooted in culture like four, but in his master's interpretation. Six was usually associated with saints. He remembered his master saying that if the bell tolled five serene times, it meant a saint had emerged, but if the fifth and sixth tolls were continuous or overlapping, it could mean a saint candidate walked the world. This in itself wasn't necessarily bad, no, it was usually a good thing. But, the fourth, fifth, and sixth sounds were overlapping, which meant this saint candidate would be associated with death and destruction.

"What is the meaning of this?" he muttered once again.

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