Holy Land Trial Chapter Fifteen The Abyss

Boom—
Hiss—
The heavens were shrouded in darkness, wild thunder raged across the world as if heralding the end of days. The endless tempest in the sky showed no sign of abating. From within the storm, colossal bolts of lightning erupted, like ancient dragons, crashing onto the earth, intent on annihilating all that existed below.

Luo Chen staggered forward, one trembling hand bracing against the damp cliff face, the other gently pressed to his chest. Every few feet behind him, faint traces of blood stained the ground—a trail marking his passage.

Dragging his heavy body, resolute steps carried him forward, inch by arduous inch along the cliff. His pale face occasionally turned to glance behind, seeing only the endless abyss of the gorge stretching away. When he looked ahead, it was the same—an interminable canyon, with smooth cliffs hundreds of feet high looming overhead. In the cold gleam of lightning, those towering walls radiated a suffocating aura of death.

Cough—cough—

Luo Chen’s hand tightened over his chest, and he spat blood onto the ground, quickly wiping the crimson from the corner of his mouth.

He slumped unsteadily against the cliff, powerless, sinking to the earth. He gazed up at the mouth of the gorge, where lightning, weaving back and forth, formed immense nets that blanketed the dim sky.

“It’s been nearly three days now. What place is this, really?”

His words came with difficulty. Raising his right hand, he closed his eyes and pressed two fingers to his brow. A moment later, a faint stream of light emerged, hovering before his chest.

His eyes opened; the light took shape, becoming Shi Ling, who blinked her bright, watery eyes at Luo Chen.

Shi Ling’s face, once youthful and vibrant, was now tinged with weakness and pallor. She collapsed into Luo Chen’s arms, unable to stand.

“Master... You’re alright... That’s... so good...”

Luo Chen stroked Shi Ling’s hair, gazing at her exhausted face and trembling voice. A faint smile touched his lips, but his expression was tinged with melancholy.

“I’m sorry, Shi Ling. It’s because of me that you’ve suffered.”

A single tear rolled from the corner of Luo Chen’s eye, falling onto Shi Ling’s small hand. Shi Ling smiled softly, grasping Luo Chen’s finger and placing it against her chest.

“Shi Ling does not blame Master. As long as I can help you, I am content.”

Feeling Shi Ling’s frail hand clinging tightly to his finger, seeing her gentle smile, Luo Chen’s heart was pierced with agony, as though a thousand swords cut through him.

Shi Ling was as mysterious as himself, her petite figure harboring endless secrets. Luo Chen felt fortunate; though he did not know why Shi Ling fought so fiercely for him, he was increasingly burdened by guilt toward her.

He did not know why Shi Ling appeared in his life, but she had always guarded him faithfully. If not for his own yearning for power, his desire to learn the secrets within himself, his wish for strength to protect those he cared for—

He never knew why he wanted to protect Xiao Ya, but every time he saw her, Luo Chen felt a strange resonance between their souls and blood.

He wanted to use everything he had to keep Xiao Ya safe. Glancing around at his surroundings, Luo Chen’s expression turned cold and bitter. Xiao Ya, are you alright? It seems this time, your brother must break his promise.

“Master... Shi Ling is tired... I want... to sleep...”

Luo Chen smiled, gently patting Shi Ling’s little head, stifling his sorrow with a faint laugh.

He understood—Shi Ling had forced herself to activate the grand array, exhausting nearly all her spiritual energy. His own spiritual veins were damaged; he could not channel energy into Shi Ling, and she was about to fall into deep slumber once more.

“Shi Ling, be good. Sleep if you’re tired. Everything will be alright.”

He reached out to smooth Shi Ling’s disheveled hair, but Shi Ling lifted her head with effort. A small hand opened, and a withered, tattered scroll dropped into her lap.

“Master, this... is for... you.”

Luo Chen took the scroll in confusion, watching Shi Ling grit her teeth, struggling to prop herself up in his palm, her gaze fixed on the scroll.

“Master... Shi Ling doesn’t want to see you sad. I found this scroll by accident. What’s recorded within is very dangerous! But... perhaps it’s a glimmer of hope for you. Shi Ling wanted selfishly to stay by your side forever, even if your cultivation remained ordinary, but your heart... Shi Ling always understood. In truth, Shi Ling’s soul has long been fused with yours. If you perish and your soul scatters, Shi Ling will accompany you—without regret, without complaint!”

Luo Chen could no longer remain unmoved as Shi Ling forced herself to smile and finished her words.

“Shi Ling!”

As her form dissolved into a stream of light and returned to his brow, Luo Chen’s anguished cry echoed across the sky.

In that moment, it was as if the heavens mocked him. Thunder crashed again and again, lashing the earth, while torrential rain poured down, seemingly intent on tearing apart the last refuge of Luo Chen and washing away all trace of his existence.

Luo Chen’s despairing body slumped against the cliff, the scroll slipping from his hand to the ground. Gaze vacant, he watched the waterfall tumbling from the rocks above, gradually closing his eyes.

Within the Academy.

On the student plaza, several trainees gathered in a group, watching as Luo Xiao Ya and Qing Xuan Yu descended the steps nearby.

“Look! Isn’t that Senior Sister Xiao Ya, the personal disciple of the Falling Flower Pavilion Master, and Senior Sister Xuan Yu, the Academy’s most beautiful student?”

As one spoke, the others glanced toward the steps.

“Li Kai, keep your voice down. If the senior sisters hear us, we’ll never have a chance.”

A student whispered, and the group nodded in agreement.

“Forget it, you guys! You never had a chance anyway.”

With these words, a seductive female student approached, glancing at the group, then at Luo Xiao Ya and Qing Xuan Yu in the distance.

Her alluring form made the others shiver; their backs felt cold. Li Kai, anger flaring, demanded,

“Bai Feng, what do you mean by that?”

“No big deal. The beauty you all covet has already pledged herself. You’re just toads lusting after swan meat. Such a pity—her pretty face will spend the rest of her life alone.”

Bai Feng eyed Qing Xuan Yu on the plaza with mocking amusement. Li Kai clenched his fists, glaring at Bai Feng.

“Bai Feng, you’d better explain yourself, or don’t blame me for being rude!”

Bai Feng ignored Li Kai’s fierce gaze, smiling and casting a flirtatious glance at the group.

“Oh, rude to me? Are you even worthy?”

“I’ll tell you honestly. Last night, I was with the Seventh Prince, and he told me himself. Your goddess has already given her heart to a disciple named Luo Chen. To persuade her to enter the Sacred Land Trial in half a year, the Pavilion Master personally promised that if Qing Xuan Yu places in the top ten, she’ll be gifted the Thunder Pavilion. Oh, and by the way, this happened three days ago.”

Li Kai dropped to the ground in disappointment, recalling how three days prior, as he was heading home, clouds had suddenly gathered and lightning flashed. He thought it would rain and paid it no mind.

“So you’re saying the celestial phenomenon that day was caused by the Thunder Pavilion?”

“Mm-hmm,” Bai Feng replied teasingly, then turned to leave. After a few steps, she glanced back at Qing Xuan Yu, her face full of disdain.

Unbeknownst to them, all of this was overheard by Luo Xiao Ya and Qing Xuan Yu as they passed through the plaza. Luo Xiao Ya looked up at Qing Xuan Yu’s expressionless face.

“Sister Yu, do you want me to ask Master to kill them?”

Qing Xuan Yu was angry, tempted to kill, but thinking of Luo Chen and seeing Xiao Ya’s face, she smiled softly.

“Xiao Ya, Luo Chen will be fine. We just need to wait patiently for him to return.”

Luo Xiao Ya nodded gently, her gaze unwavering as she walked directly toward the Thunder Pavilion.

No one knew how much time had passed.

The rain had stopped. Luo Chen slowly opened his eyes. He saw himself, Xiao Ya, and Shi Ling, the three of them running and laughing in Luo Yu Village.

Yet the sky remained dim, the cliffs towering hundreds of feet. Luo Chen understood these were only dreams.

He was still lying at the bottom of the Thunder Abyss. He moved his hands, struggling to sit up beside the cliff.

Exhausted, he leaned against the rock, surveying his surroundings. Above, the cliff had a small protrusion where drops of water occasionally fell.

Luo Chen forced himself to move, catching the droplets in his mouth to moisten his cracked lips.

The water flowed within him—it was the feeling of life, a faint spark of hope. With this, Luo Chen suddenly remembered something.

He pushed himself upright, searching the area for the scroll Shi Ling had described as a glimmer of hope.

Dragging his frail body, falling and crawling again and again, Luo Chen never gave up, leaving no corner unsearched.

Even among the scattered stones, he dug with his hands, ignoring the cuts that sliced his arms time after time.

Time passed. Luo Chen had searched the canyon floor for who knows how far. His hands and arms were covered in wounds, his clothes stained with earth.

He looked at the ground he had covered, forward and back—the canyon, hundreds of feet deep, seemed endless, without terminus.

He finally chose to rest against the cliff, telling himself repeatedly not to give up.

“Little one, are you looking for this?”

A deep voice called out, and Luo Chen’s exhausted body sat up instantly. He looked around—no one was there.

Hiss—

Until he heard the crisp sound of lightning above. Looking up, he saw a sphere of light surrounded by bolts of lightning descending slowly.

One of the bolts was wrapped around the scroll he had been searching for. Luo Chen watched the sphere descend, instinctively stepping back, pressing himself against the cliff.

“Don’t be afraid, little one. Since you entered the land of the Thunder Blade, I’ve been watching you. I find you intriguing, so I decided to meet you in person.”

Hearing the voice from within the sphere, Luo Chen steadied himself and stepped forward, expressionless, staring at the sphere.

“Since you’ve chosen to appear, why not show your true form? Besides, you know that’s mine—why not return it?”

“Haha, interesting child! Facing death, your courage never falters.”

As the words faded, the sphere contracted rapidly, condensing into a point. In an instant, an emaciated elder hovered in the air.

A soul-body? Luo Chen saw the elder’s insubstantial form, no trace of life force, with lightning occasionally flickering from within. He was a soul-body! That was the only explanation Luo Chen could fathom.

“Senior, your body...?”

The elder noticed Luo Chen’s confusion, reached for the scroll, and smiled.

“No matter. It’s been millions of years—I’m used to it.”

Hearing this, Luo Chen’s mind was shocked. Millions of years? Who was this elder, to exist as a soul-body for such a span?

The New Divine Era’s records stretched only three million years. Could this senior be from before the New Divine Era—an Ancient Divine Era figure?

Luo Chen dared not pursue the thought, staring at the scroll in the elder’s hand, swallowing hard.

“Little one, may I ask how you came by this Fragment of the Desolate God Record?”

What? Desolate God Record? What was that? Luo Chen gazed at the scroll, his mind full of questions.

Shi Ling had only warned him of the danger within, never explained what it contained—only that it might be his final hope.

He had not expected this elder to recognize it. Luo Chen’s gaze sharpened, stepping forward and bowing.

“Senior, I was rude before. May I ask if you could return the scroll to me?”

The elder smiled and tossed the scroll to Luo Chen. He caught it, eyes fixed upon it, hands clenching tighter—his only hope.

“Little one, what’s recorded within is very dangerous.”

Luo Chen looked up at the elder. Though he knew this senior had lived millions of years, the seemingly amiable demeanor, the gentle smile—Luo Chen understood.

Shi Ling had warned him of the danger; now, even one who had witnessed an entire Divine Era spoke the same. It confirmed the peril.

But he had no choice. Since he no longer feared death, whatever danger awaited was but the risk of soul extinction. Luo Chen steeled his resolve, looking firmly at the elder.

“Senior, forgive my impertinence. I beg you, tell me what the Desolate God Record truly is.”

The elder regarded Luo Chen’s battered form and unwavering resolve, surveying the scars on his hands. A hint of curiosity flickered in his eyes.

“Little one, why do you insist on exploring what lies within the scroll? That girl gave it to you, yet you haven’t opened it once. How do you know it contains what you seek?”

Luo Chen’s hands trembled as he picked up the scroll. From the elder’s words, he sensed that his supposed last hope might be nothing but a fantasy.

But Shi Ling, before falling asleep, had given him the scroll with her last strength. Even if there was only a millionth chance of hope, he could not abandon it.

He tightened his grip and slowly opened the scroll. Each inch he unrolled, his despair deepened. After several breaths, Luo Chen collapsed helplessly to the ground. The scroll slipped from his hands, its contents blank.

“My last... hope... it’s...”

Luo Chen gazed up at the sky in hopelessness, the defenses of his heart dissolving into darkness. The elder watched him, thoughtful, yet unable to comprehend what this youth had endured.

He shook his head, and with a wave, the scroll flew to his hand. He glanced once more at Luo Chen.

“All right, I know you came here to repair your spiritual veins. Come with me, little one.”

Luo Chen looked at the departing elder in confusion.

He forced himself upright, soon feeling currents of lightning enveloping him, lifting him into the air. The lightning carried him behind the elder.

The two flew through the canyon, one after another. After about a quarter hour, Luo Chen saw, a hundred meters ahead, what seemed to be the end of the endless gorge—a break in the stone.

Beyond the breach lay the heart of the storm, lightning ceaselessly striking from the heavens.

As he was drawn forward, the pressure of the thunder weighed upon Luo Chen’s chest, like a mountain crushing him, making it hard to breathe.

Then a thin bolt shot from the elder’s body, entering Luo Chen’s chest. Instantly, the crushing weight vanished.

The elder stopped ten meters from the rift, then walked toward a cave at the base of the cliff.

Luo Chen followed, traversing the winding cave for several hundred steps. At last, a new world appeared before his eyes.

It was a cavern, hundreds of feet wide, free of any lightning aura. The floor was covered with exotic flowers and grasses. Along the stone walls, countless spirit stones, weapons, and treasures were piled.

At the center stood a wordless stone monument. Before it, an old man sat cross-legged, clutching the hilt of a long sword, its blade embedded in the earth.

Luo Chen approached and saw clearly—the elder was lifeless, bearing a strong resemblance to the soul-body he had just met.

“Little one, no need to look further. That is my true body.”