From the sarcastic remarks of the Green Lamp Ghost Emperor and Old Monster Liao’e towards Old Ancestor Green Robe, it was easy to see that even if they didn’t hate him to the bone, their resentment was certainly profound.
And indeed, that was the case.
Originally, everyone was scheming for the Original Sin True Lord. To ascend as the True Lord, they each relied on their own abilities to deduce and lay plans—you set your trap, I set mine. Whoever ultimately ascended to become the Original Sin True Lord would be a testament to their own skill.
This was an unspoken agreement, a tacit understanding that everyone very consciously abided by. Black Mountain Old Monster did, Green Lamp Ghost Emperor did, Old Monster Liao’e did, and so did all the other Ancestral Patriarchs plotting for the Original Sin True Lord.
But Old Ancestor Green Robe had to be the exception, refusing to follow this established convention. Today he’d sabotage one person’s scheme, tomorrow another’s. The day after, he’d dig a pit, and the day after that, he’d lay a tripwire. Sabotage one if he could, trap one if he could—like a shit-stirring stick, he stirred up trouble everywhere, causing destruction wherever he went.
Over the years, the three Great Dao Overlords—Black Mountain Old Monster and the others—had had their schemes disrupted by Old Ancestor Green Robe more than once. Although they had still successfully ascended to the Great Dao Imperial Mandate during the Primeval Era despite his interference, many of the plans they had painstakingly laid over the years had been ruined by him.
Yet even so, Black Mountain Old Monster and his companions were considered lucky.
Others might not know, but the three Great Dao Overlords were well aware. Back in the Desolate Ancient Era, many great beings, like themselves, had deduced the Original Sin Cataclysm of the Present-Ancient Era. Thus, they had begun laying plans early: schemes for the instant the Daoless Age began, schemes to seize Original Sin True Blood, schemes to survive the Desolate Ancient Cataclysm, and schemes for the Great Dao Mandate of the Primeval Era, among others.
However, many of those great beings who were their peers had failed to persist until now.
Some had made errors in their deductions, leading to flawed plans. One wrong step led to another.
Others had been deliberately sabotaged by that shit-stirring stick, Old Ancestor Green Robe, who dug pits and laid tripwires within their carefully constructed schemes. This led to some great beings being utterly annihilated by the Desolate Ancient Cataclysm after the Daoless Age collapsed, while others had their reincarnation cycles broken or failed to awaken after transmigration because Green Robe ruined their plans.
Still others had their layouts thrown into chaos by Old Ancestor Green Robe, causing them to miss the Great Dao Mandate. Some, after seizing Original Sin True Blood the moment the Daoless Age began, went into hiding, planning to fuse with it after reincarnating in the Primeval Era, only to have it stolen by Old Ancestor Green Robe. Then, after reincarnating, they were trapped and killed by Green Robe.
This was no exaggeration at all.
Old Ancestor Green Robe’s methods were far more sinister and despicable than these examples.
Moreover, the schemes Green Robe stirred up weren’t limited to those of people like Black Mountain Old Monster who plotted for the Original Sin True Lord. Even schemes unrelated to the True Lord, he would meddle with.
For instance, Cang Yan, who sought to become the peerless Immortal-Demon Empress, and the Demon Emperor Xue He, whose might shook heaven and earth—both had their schemes disrupted by Old Ancestor Green Robe. Not only were their plans sabotaged, but both had nearly died within traps laid by him.
Back when Cang Yan had just obtained the Mandate Heart, she was besieged by the Thirty-Six Cave Heavens and Seventy-Two Blessed Lands, forcing her to take her own life. That was a trap laid by Old Ancestor Green Robe.
When Demon Emperor Xue He fell into demonhood in a single thought for Cang Yan’s sake and painted the Great Wasteland with rivers of blood, that too was a scheme orchestrated by Old Ancestor Green Robe.
Was that all? Of course not.
The Profound Heaven Immortal Dao’s inability to tolerate the Great Sun Radiance Sovereign, and the Holy Land’s rejection of Xuanyuan Wuji—even if these events weren’t traps directly laid by Old Ancestor Green Robe, he was absolutely the one stirring the pot and pulling strings behind the scenes.
From the end of the Desolate Ancient Era, through the Primeval Era, the Ancient Era, the Archaic Era, and up to the Present-Ancient Era, Old Ancestor Green Robe had never been idle. He stirred trouble everywhere, trapped and killed everywhere, laid schemes everywhere. No one knew how many plans he had disrupted, how many schemes he had laid, or how many reincarnated great beings he had ensnared and slain.
The crucial point was that no one could do anything about Old Ancestor Green Robe. The bastard hid far too deeply, and his external incarnations were beyond counting. Black Mountain Old Monster and the others had annihilated countless of Green Robe’s external incarnations, but those were just incarnations. It wasn’t that they hadn’t hunted his true original body, but sadly, they had never found it to this day.
Meanwhile, amidst the myriad Creation Treasures filling the sky, there was a miraculous pavilion.
This pavilion seemed to merge with the countless Creation Treasures, becoming one with them. It also seemed to blend with the pervasive Original Sin aura, becoming indistinguishable, ethereal and elusive, flickering in and out of sight like a reflection in water, dreamlike and illusory, its reality and falsehood impossible to discern.
The pavilion’s base resembled a blossoming flower of interwoven black and white, its blooming reminiscent of the interplay of yin and yang, appearing profoundly mysterious.
Carved on the pavilion’s four tall pillars were four patterns: one like an Azure Dragon, one like a White Tiger, one like a Black Tortoise, and one like a Vermilion Bird. The patterns were vivid and lifelike, as if they were living imprints.
The pavilion’s roof resembled the vault of heaven, containing within it a sun and moon, as well as countless stars.
Inside the pavilion were two women.
One wore magnificent black formal attire, her long hair piled high in an elegant coiffure. Her features were stunningly beautiful, dignified and grand.
She was a woman of peerless beauty.
Her beauty was breathtakingly gorgeous, enchanting and moving, charming in a myriad of ways, and Fenghua peerless—a beauty that defined an era.
Her aura was matchless in the world, both like the great sun—sacred and luminous—and like the dark, tranquil Nether Moon in the night sky.
Her existence was mysterious and elusive, like a celestial immortal of the Nine Heavens or a divine demon of the Nine Nethers, much like the pavilion itself—shifting between real and illusory, true and false, impossible to see through, giving one a sense of profound unreality.
Every smile and frown, though seemingly casual, carried the dignity of an empress descending from the heavens above, noble beyond measure, inspiring awe and reverence.
She sat on a stone stool, leaning against an Azure Dragon pillar, appearing somewhat languid. She held a white jade cup containing half a measure of wine, a playful smile gracing her lips as her enchanting eyes watched with ambiguous amusement.
Beside her was another woman.
Or more precisely, a girl.
The girl appeared to be fourteen or fifteen years old, dressed in plain white robes, her long hair hanging naturally down her back. Barefoot, she sat casually on a stone stool.
She was a very ordinary girl.
Truly ordinary.
So ordinary that one could find no shining point about her. Ordinary like weeds on the prairie, ordinary like a drop of water in the ocean, even more ordinary like a speck of dust in this world—insignificant, as if closing one’s eyes would make one forget her appearance entirely.
Her countenance was like this.
Her eyes were like this.
Her very person was like this.
From head to toe, even every strand of hair seemed utterly ordinary.
She was like the void itself, constantly changing. Even as she stood there quietly now, she gave off a sense of unreality, dreamlike and illusory.
The exquisitely beautiful woman in the magnificent attire was none other than the master of Langya Cave Heaven, Cang Yan.
A legendary woman of the Great Wasteland, and a Great Dao Empress.
She was both an Immortal Dao Empress and a Monster Dao Empress, the one and only peerless Immortal-Demon Empress in all heaven and earth.
As for the girl, she was none other than the legendary Heavenly Mystery Madam, Genggu Wuming—she who knew the past and future, held the threads of fate and karma, deduced the cosmos and primordial chaos, and saw through the mysteries of heaven and earth. She was the embodiment of karma, the emissary of fate, an omniscient woman revered as a deity by the myriad realms of the heavens.