Volume 4: Super-Tier Awakening & The Ancient Capital Calamity
Chapter 383
Bestowing Relics: The Ancient Emperor's Dark Gold Sword and the Soul Suppressing Token
The ten-thousand-zhang space within the ancient mausoleum suddenly fell into absolute silence, save for the rhythmic, echoing drip of water collecting upon the jade-stone cavern walls. The illusory figure of the Ancient Emperor stood towering proudly amidst the artificial starlight of the grand hall; his golden imperial robe embroidered with soaring dragons and phoenixes seemed still imbued with the poignant aura of a millennium of history.
The ancient sovereign slowly withdrew his sharp, blade-like gaze, locking it onto the young man standing straight before him. Within those deep, cosmic eyes, there was no longer any soul-suffocating coercion, replaced instead by profound approval—a supreme recognition that transcended both time and space.
“Good! Good! Good!”
Three shouts rang out like an ancient bronze bell, reverberating straight into Lin Feng’s consciousness and causing the blood throughout his entire body to surge like a torrent meeting a raging fire.
“For a millennium I have sat in seclusion, waiting through countless generations, witnessing innumerable self-proclaimed supreme geniuses step into this sacred ground. Some were insatiably greedy, others trembled before my majesty; yet never has there been one so calm, so unyielding, and possessed of such a sovereign will as you.”
The voice of the Ancient Emperor echoed across all four directions, carrying a majestic yet sorrowful weight:
“You have cleared the trial of the Primordial Dragon Temple, shattering a millennium-old seal. You are worthy to become my sole successor in this great cataclysm!”
With those words, the Ancient Emperor flicked his dragon-embroidered sleeve. The entire space of the mausoleum instantly trembled violently. The ancient mural paintings on the stone walls suddenly erupted with dazzling golden light, and countless primitive runic characters from the primordial era fluttered through the air like tens of thousands of divine fireflies. The invisible pressure that had weighed upon Lin Feng’s shoulders vanished entirely, restoring a solemn, tranquil, yet overwhelmingly grand atmosphere.
The world within the mausoleum seemed to return to reality. The phantoms of ten thousand tribes paying homage and the sea of fluttering battle banners gradually faded, yielding to the somber, archaic beauty of the millennium-old sacred hall.
Yet immediately afterward, a horrifying, earth-shattering turbulence erupted from deep within the blood-jade altar where the Ancient Emperor resided.
“Rumble, rumble, rumble!”
The ground shook violently, and massive fissures split across the sacrificial altar. From the depths of the earth, a pitch-black pillar of light interwoven with golden radiance soared straight toward the vaulted dome of the tomb, piercing through layer upon layer of ancient seals. Within that beam of light, two streams of primordial energy, terrifying to the extreme, surged violently, warping the surrounding air and creating visible ripples in space.
Lin Feng narrowed his eyes, twin flashes of sharp spiritual light blazing in his pupils. He stared intently at the center of the pillar of light, where two divine supreme treasures were slowly rising under the guidance of the Ancient Emperor’s finger.
The first treasure drifted toward the left. It was an ancient sword about a cubit and a half long, radiating a deep, soul-absorbing black light. The blade was not forged from ordinary steel; rather, it was cast from extraterrestrial meteoric star-gold combined with the blood marrow of an archaic black dragon. The moment it appeared, the surrounding space was instantly enveloped by an icy, bone-chilling aura of slaughter. Faint dragon patterns rippled across the surface of the blade as if coming alive, undulating and emitting a blood-red light like flowing gore.
“This is... the Ancient Emperor Dark Gold Sword!”
Memories of this divine weapon flashed through Lin Feng’s mind. Without even touching it, the razor-sharp pressure emanating from the blade alone was enough to tear apart the protective magic barrier around him. A crisp yet muffled sword hum echoed in his ears, resembling the wrathful roar of an imprisoned primordial black dragon, carrying world-devouring magic energy and a forbidden sealing power capable of slicing through space itself.
The second treasure drifted toward the right, radiating the majestic, pure aura of a sovereign. It was a rectangular token cast from an unknown, peculiar jade stone, its surface covered in dense, glowing golden archaic scripts. Every single character on the token contained an immense pressure of heaven and earth, causing one’s soul to tremble in reverence.
“The Soul Suppressing Token!”
Lin Feng took a deep breath. He recognized that this talisman was not merely an offensive or defensive magical artifact, but the supreme key to summoning and suppressing the million-strong undead legions waiting to revolt in the outer districts of the Ancient Capital. In an era where the undead calamity was about to engulf all of humanity, this token possessed a value far exceeding any Forbidden Curse magic in existence.
The Ancient Emperor retracted his finger, and the two divine artifacts hovered right before Lin Feng’s chest, radiating warm yet overwhelmingly majestic primordial energies. The sovereign looked at the youth with boundless expectations, his majestic voice resounding throughout the grand hall:
“Junior, the rivers and mountains of Shenzhou have never known peace for a millennium; they have all been built upon the blood and bones of millions of soldiers. Today, I bestow this precious sword and token upon you—not so you may use them to disgrace the ambition of heroes, but for you to bear a greater responsibility!”
The Ancient Emperor’s gaze abruptly turned as sharp as lightning, every single word striking straight into Lin Feng’s heart:
“Take my place in guarding these rivers and mountains, and protect the suffering masses from the destructive calamity of the undead!”
“Thud!”
Without the slightest hesitation, Lin Feng dropped to one knee upon the cold jade-stone ground, raising his arms high to receive the two divine artifacts. His action was decisive and upright, devoid of even a shred of fear or trembling.
The moment Lin Feng’s fingertips touched the hilt of the Ancient Emperor Dark Gold Sword, a terrifying surge of energy rushed straight from his skin deep into his meridians. The freezing chill of the primordial metal was instantly scorched by the boiling black dragon blood marrow within.
“Boom!”
A deafening explosion echoed in Lin Feng’s mind. He felt his consciousness pulled into a blood-colored realm where tens of thousands of white-skeletal warriors knelt at the feet of a colossal dark shadow. This was the inheritance of a sovereign’s will—the power of countless bloody battles accumulated across thousands of years of history.
Every single magic element within Lin Feng’s body—from the Fire Element and Lightning Element to the hidden energies yet to be unlocked—was now calling out frantically. They merged with the sovereign pressure just transmitted, forming a terrifyingly swirling vortex of magic power around his dantian.
At the same time, the Soul Suppressing Token in his right hand emitted a warm radiance, fusing directly into Lin Feng’s spiritual sea. A colossal strand of divine thought containing the methods to command the million-strong undead legions, along with secret arts to suppress a millennium of lingering grievances, instantly etched itself deep into his mind, clear and distinct as though he had practiced them for a thousand lifetimes.
Power! This was a supreme power far surpassing his current realm!
Lin Feng snapped his head up, his dark eyes now flashing with twin beams of sharp, blade-like golden light. His breathing grew steady and deep, carrying a pressure that caused the surrounding space to groan and tremble. He gripped the sword hilt tightly, feeling the thousand-jin weight of the sacred blade—the very weight of a millennium of responsibility resting upon his shoulders.
“This junior, Lin Feng, respectfully obeys the Ancient Emperor’s decree!”
Lin Feng’s voice was low yet resounding, carrying an unshakeable, ironclad determination:
“Having received His Majesty’s precious sword and token, I swear to use this single sword to eradicate all demons and ghosts, and use this token to suppress a million undead! Until the Ancient Capital’s calamity is quelled and the masses are protected in peace, I swear never to bow my head!”
“Rumble, rumble, rumble!”
As Lin Feng’s vow echoed, the entire ceiling of the ten-thousand-zhang ancient mausoleum erupted with thunderous explosions. The artificial vault blazing with tens of thousands of stars suddenly shifted along a peculiar trajectory, as if witnessing the oath of a newly risen supreme being amidst turbulent times.
Hearing this, the illusory figure of the Ancient Emperor threw his head back and laughed heartily—a resonant laugh carrying the boundless satisfaction of a sovereign who had found the most perfect successor. His hazy form gradually faded into nothingness, transforming into golden spots of light that fluttered across the grand hall before sinking deep into the stone walls.
“Very well... I await the day you trample upon the summit of the world...”
The Ancient Emperor’s final words lingered in the air, and then the grand hall fell completely silent.
Lin Feng rose from the ground, his robes fluttering in the residual wind left by the energy shockwave. The Ancient Emperor Dark Gold Sword in his hand suddenly retracted its radiance, appearing as unremarkable as an ordinary steel sword; yet whenever he shifted slightly, an overwhelming aura of slaughter lay coiled, ready to erupt at any moment. The Soul Suppressing Token had already been stowed away within his storage ring, transmitting a steady warmth that calmed his mind.
He took a deep breath of the characteristic air of the ancient tomb, his gaze piercing through the thick stone doors to look toward the outer districts of the Ancient Capital—where night and demonic energy surged turbulently, and millions of blood-red, hungry eyes of the undead awaited the opportune moment to attack.
The life-or-death confrontation with the Ancient Capital calamity was now truly beginning.
Yet just as Lin Feng turned around to leave the sacrificial altar and face the situation outside, an unexpected anomaly suddenly occurred!
The ancient stone tablet located directly behind the Ancient Emperor’s throne suddenly split open with a razor-sharp crack. From within the fissure, a drop of pitch-black blood, thick as the tears of gods and demons, oozed out, falling straight to the ground and ringing out with a resounding chime: Clang!
Instantly, a supremely bizarre, bone-chillingly cold consciousness surged from the stone tablet’s crack straight into Lin Feng’s brain, carrying a horrifying message never recorded in any history...