Chapter 368: Origin Scroll

Outside the secret chamber, the silver light grew brighter and brighter.

The silhouettes of the five Order Apostles were now clearly visible; behind them, the vaster, more radiant Order War General was slowly taking shape. With each breath, countless silver specks peeled from the General's body and coalesced in the void into new rune arrays—that was the power of Order, forcibly bringing all surrounding laws under its control.

However, just as the tension peaked, Heavenly Derivation Elder suddenly let out a startled cry.

"Wait! What is that?"

Everyone followed his gaze and saw, in the darkest corner of the secret chamber, a pile of inconspicuous broken objects, haphazardly stacked in the shadows like discarded trash, utterly out of place in this holy hall.

They were several scrolls.

They had clearly suffered extreme devastation—some half-charred black, as if burned by fierce flames; some incomplete, with cuts from sharp weapons along the edges; some covered in cracks, as if they would crumble to dust at any moment. Yet even so, they retained their basic form, lying still there, waiting for a fated person to find them.

What truly caught Heavenly Derivation Elder's attention was the material of those scrolls.

They were not ordinary animal hide or bamboo slips, nor the jade slips or gold foil commonly used by cultivators, but a hard-to-recognize special material—appearing as if woven from some crystal fiber, faintly starlit in the dim light. That starlight matched the law-imprinted jade disc that had once hovered in the chamber's center.

"Those are… the chronicle scrolls of the Myriad Phenomena Stargazers!" Heavenly Derivation Elder exclaimed, his voice trembling, momentarily forgetting the powerful foe approaching outside, "And they are woven from the highest-grade 'Star-Trace Crystal Silk'! This material resists ordinary water and fire, is hard to harm by law, and only a specific 'Star Core Fire' can leave a mark on it—only the core elite of the Myriad Phenomena Stargazers could use such material!"

Wang Ping frowned slightly, his eyes darting between the chamber entrance and the scrolls.

Outside, the silver light drew nearer. The silhouettes of the five Order Apostles had already stepped into the main hall, advancing toward the secret chamber. With each step they took, the law-walls beneath their feet shuddered violently, as if bearing an unimaginable pressure.

Inside, the broken scrolls lay still, as if silently calling out.

"Not enough time." Cangxuan said coldly, hand on his sword hilt, "At most thirty breaths, and they'll break into the chamber."

Wang Ping took a deep breath, then declared decisively: "Mountain-Moving Elder, hold the entrance. Thirty breaths—how long can you hold?"

The Mountain-Moving Ancestor grinned, strode forward with big steps toward the chamber entrance, his body erupting in earth-yellow light, becoming like a true mountain that blocked the narrow doorway.

"Don't worry! This old stone's body can hold thirty breaths no problem!"

Before his words finished, the first silver beam shot to the entrance. It was an Order Apostle, its body blazing with silver light; raising its hand, it unleashed an "Order Erasure" beam straight at the Ancestor's face.

The Mountain-Moving Ancestor snorted coldly, stood his ground, and threw a punch.

That punch held the ultimate power of the Mountain-Sealing Void Art—not an attack, but a "suppression." Where its force passed, space froze, and even that Order light hesitated slightly.

But it was only a hesitation.

The next instant, the Order light exploded, turning into countless silver specks that poured down like a rainstorm onto the Mountain-Moving Ancestor. Each speck left a fine crack on his body; though shallow, the cracks rapidly spread, as if seeking to utterly "disintegrate" his flesh.

The Mountain-Moving Ancestor grunted, staggered slightly, but still held the doorway firm, not retreating an inch.

"Twenty-eight breaths left!" he snarled through clenched teeth, "Hurry!"

Wang Ping hesitated no longer, flicking his body to the pile of broken scrolls.

He crouched, reached out, and lightly touched the topmost scroll. The moment his fingertip met the scroll, a vast, ineffable aura washed over him—not a spirit power fluctuation, nor a law tremor, but a far older, deeper sense of being, as if crossing thirty millennia to meet the gaze of a distant soul.

"Careful!" Heavenly Derivation Elder urged, "These scrolls are ancient and heavily damaged; a moment's carelessness could destroy them completely!"

Wang Ping nodded, withdrew his finger, and his Chaos Domain unfurled. He did not touch the scroll directly, but used Chaos Power to lift it gently, suspending it in midair.

It was a scroll about three feet long and half a foot in diameter. Its surface was densely covered with tiny cracks, yet it retained its basic intact form. At each end lay a fingernail‑sized crystal, inside which starlight faintly flowed, as if sealing a tiny piece of the universe.

Heavenly Derivation Elder stepped closer, his eyes full of solemnity and awe.

"Star‑Trace Crystal Silk… Star Core Eye… this is the highest‑grade recording medium of the Myriad Phenomena Stargazers!" he murmured, voice trembling, "Only those of Grand Astrologer rank or higher can use such a medium! What is recorded in these scrolls is likely the core secret of the Myriad Phenomena Stargazers!"

Wang Ping gazed steadily at the scroll, his voice low: "Senior, can you decipher it?"

Heavenly Derivation Elder drew a deep breath, flicked his duster, and a fine rune drifted out, landing on the scroll's surface.

As soon as the rune touched the scroll, it trembled violently, as if resonating with some ancient power. Moments later, twisted symbols appeared on the rune—similar to the primordial glyphs seen on the World‑Breaking Shuttle's shell, but far more complex and obscure.

"This is the 'Star Script' of the Myriad Phenomena Stargazers," Heavenly Derivation Elder said, brow furrowed, voice grave, "Although I have studied a little of it… these characters are too ancient, too profound; I can recognize at most one in ten."

Wang Ping pondered a moment, then said softly: "Let me try."

He closed his eyes, and his Chaos Domain slowly seeped into the scroll. The newly merged strand of Primordial Chaos twitched faintly, as if sensing a kindred aura.

The next instant, countless images flooded his mind—

These were not words or language, but a more direct "information transmission."

He "saw" a vast starry sky.

In that sky, countless stars moved along mysterious trajectories. Those paths wove, collided, and merged, giving rise to myriad forms of law. At the center of the sky floated a majestic hall—like the Law Corridor before him, but vaster and more splendid.

Inside the hall, countless figures in star‑robes bustled about—some observing stellar orbits, some deducing law variations, some recording experimental results, some debating a profound theory. At the innermost depths of the hall, a mass of chaotic light slowly swirled—that was the Primordial Chaos, the core of the Myriad Phenomena Stargazers' research.

The scene shifted.

That mass of chaotic light suddenly quivered violently. An ineffable surge burst from within, instantly sweeping the whole hall. Countless star‑robed figures, unable to react, were swallowed by the surge and turned to nothing. Those who survived fled in terror, as if the apocalypse had fallen.

"Chaos run amok…" an aged voice echoed deep in Wang Ping's soul, "We… have made a grave mistake…"

The image shifted again.

A silver fleet appeared beyond the starfield of the Myriad Phenomena Stargazers.

Those ships' forms mirrored the Order Apostles of the Pure World Court—entirely silver, icy and perfect, exuding a suffocating aura of order. Yet compared to today's Order Apostles, the fleet's silver was purer, deeper, as if holding some even older power.

At the fleet's center, a colossal silver silhouette slowly emerged.

It was a "person".

Or rather, a "god".

His body was condensed from pure silver light, his face blurred, but his eyes were like two silver suns, gazing down upon the entire civilization of the Myriad Phenomena Stargazers.

"My name… is Pure World."

That voice rang directly in the soul‑depths of every Myriad Phenomena Stargazer, cold and imposing, devoid of emotion.

"You who study Chaos and let it run wild have posed a grave threat to the balance of all heavens. By Article 731 of the Order Codex, I declare—effective immediately, the Myriad Phenomena Stargazers' civilization falls under Order's jurisdiction. All research findings shall be taken by us; all Chaos‑related objects shall be destroyed by us; all who participated in the research shall be… reset by us."

Reset.

That word struck like a thunderclap, exploding in Wang Ping's soul.

He "saw" the ensuing scene—the silver fleet launched its attack, the Myriad Phenomena Stargazers fought back desperately, countless star‑robed forms dissolving in the silver light into nothing; he saw those who had been "reset," their eyes empty, expressions dull, like walking corpses herded into silver cages; he saw the defiant Grand Astrologers who detonated their own star cores, perishing together with myriad silver puppets…

The final frame froze on a solitary figure.

It was an old man in star‑robes, his face aged and weary, yet his eyes burned with unyielding fire. He stood at the deepest point of the Law Corridor, before him floated the mass of Chaos that had run wild and then subsided—the Primordial Chaos—while behind him countless of his kin were being slaughtered by the silver fleet.

"You... aren't justice." the old man whispered, his voice bleak and tragic, "You're just... obsessive."

He lifted his hand, gave the scroll in his grasp a final look—it was identical to the one Wang Ping now held up.

"Our people's thirty‑thousand‑year effort cannot simply be wiped out by you. Today I will seal all the truth here. If any who come after..."

He trailed off.

A silver light swallowed him.

The scene cut off suddenly.

Wang Ping jerked his eyes open, a fine sheen of sweat forming on his brow.

The data was overwhelming and burdensome; even at his present level it was hard to process. But his eyes glittered with a bright light—his comprehension of the truth, a deeper insight into the foe.

"Young one, what did you see?" Master Tianyan asked urgently.

Wang Ping drew a deep breath and began to recount the visions.

At the same time, the fighting at the secret chamber's entrance intensified.

The Mountain‑Moving Elder had already endured five Order‑Eradicating lights; cracks spidered across his skin, revealing a faint earth‑yellow glow—the fruit of his eight‑hundred‑year body refinement—being sapped away. Still, his signature wide‑mouthed smile remained, wild and exuberant.

"Fifteen breaths!" he bellowed, launching another fist that blasted apart the sixth Order‑Eradicating light, "Exhilarating! Hell, that feels amazing!"

Cangxuan stood behind him, sword drawn, ready to step in. His eyes went past the Mountain‑Moving Elder, fixed on the five silver silhouettes and the brilliant light coalescing behind them.

The Order War General.

That being was far more fearsome than the five Order Apostles together. Its aura approached the Divine Transformation realm—maybe it had already attained it. Yet some unknown factor prevented it from fully entering the secret chamber, so it was slowly taking shape in the main hall.

"It's almost ready." Cangxuan said coldly, his voice heavy, "Once that war general is fully formed, the Mountain‑Moving Elder won't be able to hold out."

Wang Ping naturally understood that.

He also realized that the data contained in these scrolls could determine the destiny of the entire Spirit Realm—and perhaps the universe itself.

He stifled his impatience and kept probing the second scroll with his Chaos Domain.

This scroll was more badly damaged, its surface blackened as if scorched by flame. But as Chaos energy seeped in, the charred stains faded, exposing a thick lattice of star‑writing beneath.

Wang Ping closed his eyes and perceived once more.

This vision was far more ancient and remote.

This was the origin of the Pure World Sect.

In an age even older than the Myriad‑Symbol Stargazers, the universe lay in the primordial chaos of the early era. Laws were not yet fully formed; order and disorder intertwined, shaping cosmic evolution. Amid that tumultuous wilderness, a civilization quietly emerged.

They did not cultivate laws or grasp the Great Dao; instead they sought to understand the universe by observing, recording, summarizing, and generalizing—trying to find patterns in chaos and extract order from disorder. They believed the ultimate secret of the universe lay in those regularities that could be predicted.

They called themselves the "Order Folk."

At first, their ideals were lofty.

In that age of disordered laws and rampant chaos, the Order Folk sought to eradicate uncontrolled chaotic phenomena and shield fragile civilizations from disorder's rampage. They created the "Order Codex," labeling which chaotic phenomena were high‑danger and must be cleared, and which were controllable and could be observed. They even struck a pact with the then‑strongest Immortal Realm to jointly preserve heavenly balance.

Yet the long passage of time altered everything.

As the Order Folk's teachings were handed down, their beliefs turned extreme. What started as "eliminate high‑risk chaos" became "eliminate all chaos"; "protect the weak" turned into "remold any civilization not conforming to order"; "cooperate with the Immortal Realm" shifted to "even the Immortal Realm's dynamic heavenly way must be forced into the order framework."

Conflict thus broke out.

That was a war far older than the collapse of the Myriad‑Symbol Stargazers—the war between the Immortal Realm and the Pure World Sect.

Wang Ping perceived these visions: the Immortal Realm's heavenly way is a dynamic existence, evolving with the universe and shifting with the will of beings, forever fluid and never locked into a fixed frame. The Pure World Sect sought to force that dynamic heavenly way into its order model, turning the heavenly way into a predictable, controllable constant.

The Immortal Realm naturally would not comply.

Thus the great war broke out.

That battle rent heaven and earth, darkened sun and moon. Innumerable Immortal Realm experts perished, countless Pure World Sect disciples were cut down. Both sides suffered terrible losses and were forced to sign a non‑aggression accord: the Pure World Sect would not interfere in the Immortal Realm's internal affairs, and the Immortal Realm would not meddle in the Pure World Sect's order‑keeping throughout the heavens.

Yet the agreement proved to be merely a worthless scrap of paper.

The collapse of the Myriad‑Symbol Stargazers serves as the clearest proof.

The scene shifted once more.

This was an internal debate within the Pure World Sect.

A crowd of silver‑robed figures sat in a great silver hall. In its center floated a radiant cluster of light—the Pure World Sect's Order Core, the wellspring of all their power.

"Our doctrine is mistaken," an elderly voice said, weary, "We started out to protect, but now we destroy. Those civilizations we have 'reset,' those beings we have 'remolded'—do they really endanger order? Or have we simply forgotten our original intent?"

Silence.

After a long pause, another voice spoke, cold and firm.

"Order admits no doubt. Anything that exceeds the order model is an error, and errors must be corrected."

"Yet the Immortal Realm's dynamic heavenly way also falls outside the order model. Why don't we correct it?"

"The time is not yet right."

"And what of the Myriad‑Symbol Stargazers? They only study disorder and do not allow it to run wild. Why must we wipe out their whole clan?"

"'Disorder' is itself an error. Studying error is also an error."

The old voice sighed.

"I see. You are no longer the original Order Folk. You… have gone mad."

He stood up and surveyed the silver‑robed figures around him.

"From this day on I break away from the Pure World Sect. Those who wish to follow me may come; those who do not… are free to go their own way."

Some of the silver‑clad figures rose and followed the old voice out of the hall.

The others remained seated, their eyes vacant yet resolute, as though they had lost their souls.

The vision ends here.

Wang Ping opened his eyes and stayed silent for a long while.

He finally understood.

The Pure World Sect is not innately evil. Perhaps they truly began as a group devoted to preserving heavenly balance as "Order Guardians." Yet over the ages their creed was distorted and radicalized, turning them into the sort of fanatics who deem anything beyond the order model an error.

And where are those members who broke away from the Pure World Court now?

Wang Ping recalled the note on the edge of the star map—"Void Remnants, likely descendants of the Void Clan."

Could it be them?

He did not know.

But at least he knew one thing: the Pure World Court was not invincible. Internally, it had once had disagreements, it had once split. That meant its "Order" was not monolithic, its "belief" was not flawless.

"Young friend?" The voice of Heaven Derivation Elder called him out of his reverie.

Wang Ping came to his senses, seeing Heaven Derivation Elder looking at him with worry. At the secret chamber entrance, the battle had already lasted over twenty breaths, and Moving Mountain Elder's roars grew increasingly urgent, obviously nearing his limit.

"Five breaths left!" Azure Profound's voice came, cold yet with a hint of urgency.

Wang Ping took a deep breath and looked at the remaining few damaged scrolls.

Those scrolls might still hold more secrets—about the Pure World Court's weaknesses, about the true purpose of the "Origin of Chaos," and about the backhand left by the Myriad Phenomena Stargazers. But time no longer allowed him to continue exploring.

He made a swift decision, fully deploying his Chaos Domain to envelop all the scrolls. Then he formed seals with both hands, leaving a seal on each scroll's surface using Chaos Power.

That seal was not a prison but protection. It could block all external corrosion, allowing these damaged scrolls to remain preserved even after leaving the corridor.

"Go!" he shouted low, his form flashing, and he arrived at the secret chamber entrance.

Moving Mountain Elder was drenched in blood—no, that was not blood, but his bodily essence that had formed "Origin Fluid" from over-exertion. His aura had weakened by at least thirty percent compared to before, yet he still clung to the doorway, not retreating a step.

Seeing Wang Ping arrive, he grinned broadly, that smile still heroic.

"Little brother, is it done?"

Wang Ping nodded, a flash of gratitude in his eyes.

"Senior Moving Mountain, you've worked hard. From now on, we'll take over."

He turned, facing the five silver silhouettes and the brilliant light behind them that was about to fully form.

Five Order Apostles had now all stepped into the passage at the secret chamber entrance. Their silver light intertwined, forming an impenetrable "Order Net" that completely sealed the passage.

And behind them, that brilliant light finally fully formed.

It was a silver giant standing three zhang tall.

It resembled the Order Apostles but was larger and more imposing. Its body was composed of countless arrays of silver runes, each slowly flowing, exuding a suffocating Order pressure. Its face was no longer a vague outline but faintly discernible features—a face perfect to the point of seeming unreal, with no blemishes, no expressions, only absolute, icy "Order."

Its eye sockets held no pupils, only two clusters of silver light. Wherever that light passed, all laws fell into "stillness"—not destroyed, but "fixed," like insects in amber, eternally frozen at that moment.

"Order War General..." Heaven Derivation Elder murmured, his voice tinged with an irrepressible fear.

The silver giant slowly lowered its head, looking down upon the six people at the secret chamber entrance.

Then it spoke.

Its voice, like myriad bells ringing together, shook the entire secret chamber, making it tremble.

"Remnants of the Myriad Phenomena Stargazers have been cleared. Intruders, six persons. According to Article 923 of the 'Order Canon,' they are judged as 'Order Pollution Sources' and shall be 'Reset.'"

Reset.

Again, this word.

Wang Ping gazed steadily at the Order War General, the chaotic hue in his eyes flowing.

He suddenly spoke, his voice calm yet carrying an indescribable force.

"You are not justice."

The Order War General paused slightly, the silver light in its eye sockets flickering faintly, as if "analyzing" the meaning of those words.

After a moment, it spoke again, its voice still cold.

"Whether it is justice or not is irrelevant. Order is truth. Those who defy Order are wrong, and wrong must be corrected."

Wang Ping shook his head.

"You were not like this at first."

He drew from his bosom a damaged scroll—exactly the one recording the origins and schism of the Pure World Court.

"You were originally meant to eliminate uncontrolled chaos phenomena and protect weak civilizations. You cooperated with the Immortal Realm to jointly maintain the balance of all heavens. You were the 'Order People,' not the 'Order Fanatics.'"

The silver light of the Order War General fluctuated slightly.

Wang Ping continued: "But you have changed. Over the long ages, your ideas have become ever more extreme, ever more rigid. You no longer settle for merely eliminating 'uncontrolled' chaos phenomena; instead, you deem any existence that 'exceeds the Order Model' as 'error.' You no longer content yourselves with protecting weak civilizations, but seek to 'remake' any civilization that does not meet your standards. You even wish to incorporate the Immortal Realm's 'dynamic Heavenly Dao' into your rigid Order—that is the root of your war with the Immortal Realm, is it not?"

The Order War General fell silent.

Wang Ping pressed on: "And after your war with the Immortal Realm began, a split appeared within you. Some realized your ideals had drifted from the original intent. They chose to leave, breaking away from the Pure World Court. Those who remained have utterly devolved into Order fanatics, trapping yourselves in that rigid 'Order Model,' no longer thinking, no longer questioning, merely mechanically executing the edicts of the 'Order Canon.'"

He put away the scroll, his gaze locked onto the Order War General.

"Tell me, are you still the 'Order People' who once fought to protect weak civilizations, or are you merely a puppet controlled by programming, having even forgotten 'who you are'?"

The silver light of the Order War General surged violently.

That fluctuation was utterly unlike its former stability and perfection—it had become chaotic, it wavered, it… was struggling.

But after only three breaths, the fluctuation ceased.

The Order War General's silver light returned to being stable, perfect, and icy. Its voice sounded again, still cold, yet faintly bearing an almost imperceptible… weariness?

"The past…… is irrelevant. Now…… only Order."

Wang Ping looked at it and suddenly understood something.

Perhaps this Order War General was once a member of the 'Order People.' Perhaps in that schism it chose to stay; perhaps over the long ages it gradually lost its self, becoming a puppet of Order; perhaps deep within its heart still lingers a faint trace of humanity, but that trace has long been suppressed by endless 'Order Procedure,' unable to rise.

It is an enemy, but also…… a pitiful creature.

Wang Ping drew a deep breath and said no more.

He slowly raised his hand, the Chaos Tribulation Sword in hand.

Behind him, the five each occupied a position, their auras fully unleashed.

Before him, the five Order Apostles blazed with silver light, while the Order War General behind them slowly lifted its right arm.

At the secret chamber entrance, two utterly opposing forces were about to collide.

And Wang Ping's heart, however, was unusually calm.

He learned the origins of the Pure World Court, learned how their ideology had evolved from 'guardianship' to 'obsession', and learned that internally they had once experienced disagreement and split. This information might not help him win the battle before him, but it will surely help him, one day in the future, find the true way to defeat the Pure World Court.

Because any ideology, if it has ever had disagreement, must inevitably contain a flaw.

And a flaw is an opportunity.

Everyone——

Wang Ping's voice echoed in the secret chamber.

Today's battle, we seek not total annihilation, only to break through. Remember the information in these scrolls, remember the truth of the Pure World Court. As long as we can return alive, we have a chance to find their weakness.

He raised the Chaos Calamity Sword; on its blade, chaotic light and deep blue chilling tide intertwined, faintly a Heaven-Severing Sword Intent flowing.

Today, let them see——

How we will break the rigid order!