Chapter 421: Entering Hangu Pass

This is…

The First Immortal Sovereign of Jiuzhou, Xiang Hong, was stunned, frozen in place.

The scenery before their eyes was even more shocking than when they had seen the dark light transform into Qin Shi Huang and Yinglong.

The sound of rushing water reached their ears.

The First Immortal Sovereign of Jiuzhou, Xiang Hong, and the Tianxie Sword Immortal turned to look behind them—their pupils contracted as they gazed at the surging, boundless river behind them, its torrent unknown in origin, each wave a world unto itself.

This water sound!!

They suddenly remembered the dark light—the gentle lapping of water it produced during its transformations was identical to this river’s sound; that sound was this river’s sound!

Seeing this river, seeing this scene, they finally understood why the dark light’s water sound had felt familiar—it came from this very river, and they knew this river…

The River of Time!!!!

With stiff necks, they turned with difficulty, slowly lifting their gaze toward the majestic imperial pass towering before them, its height unseen to the horizon.

Xiang Hong and the other two could not remain calm—their spirits trembled violently, their souls bristled with dread.

“Hangu Pass!”

The First Immortal Sovereign of Jiuzhou stared at the three ancient, weathered characters carved into the imperial pass with the Dao as ink—his shock reached its peak.

“We’ve exited… exited the River of Time…”

Majestic, boundless, mighty, sublime, ancient, weathered, solemn… the incomparable, indescribable aura of Hangu Pass washed over them, leaving the three speechless, unable to articulate their emotions.

That portal had brought them to the gates of Hangu Pass, before the River of Time.

He slapped his own cheeks hard, then pinched his thigh—Xiang Hong winced in pain.

Pain? Then this isn’t a dream.

“Not a dream… so this is real?”

Xiang Hong muttered to himself, glanced at the ground beneath his feet, hesitated slightly, then crouched to pick up a handful of soil and licked it.

“Pfft, pfft, pfft—real dirt, not an illusion.”

Spitting out the soil, Xiang Hong confirmed they were not in an illusion.

They had truly arrived upon the River of Time—specifically, at its downstream, at the frontier pass guarding the future: Hangu Pass.

The dark light was part of the River of Time, or perhaps a portal connecting to it—the reason was clear: the water sound that surged when the dark light shifted was the River of Time’s own sound.

To be honest, the First Immortal Sovereign of Jiuzhou, the Tianxie Sword Immortal, and Xiang Hong remembered the River of Time’s sound; they had found the dark light’s sound familiar but failed to recognize it—not for any other reason, but simply because they never believed the dark light could be connected to the River of Time.

What is the River of Time, after all?

It is the concept of time across all dimensions, spacetimes, and worlds—transcending life and death, one of the most mysterious Dao principles, belonging to the supreme realm, the ultimate endpoint of all existence.

This is the River of Time—the most mysterious, the most inaccessible thing in existence.

How could such a thing possibly be linked to a mere cluster of light? The very notion is absurd.

Yet it was precisely this unbelievable truth.

“Could the sages recorded in the Tianqian Gorge as having vanished without return have entered that light cluster?” asked the First Immortal Sovereign of Jiuzhou.

Xiang Hong and the other two were stunned.

Come to think of it—it might very well be true.

At the bottom of Tianqian Gorge lay a light cluster leading to Hangu Pass on the River of Time; none of the powerful beings who had entered Tianqian Gorge had ever returned—perhaps they perished in destruction.

Or perhaps they entered the light cluster.

“I get it now—because that light cluster is tied to the River of Time, it manifested Qin Shi Huang, Yinglong, the World Tree, Tiancang Immortality, Wan Cheng Immortality, and others.”

Xiang Hong suddenly understood.

The River of Time encompasses all time across the heavens—past and future—carrying everything. Qin Shi Huang, Yinglong, Wan Cheng Immortality—all are iconic figures of their eras and worlds, renowned through history, recorded by time itself.

“Look! Someone’s there!”

Xiang Hong’s gaze accidentally flickered forward—he shouted in shock, pointing at Hangu Pass.

There, ahead, a figure hurried through the great gate of Hangu Pass, aura of slaughter rising like a supreme ghost-god, suppressing one hundred thousand demons and evil spirits, his presence unparalleled, shaking the ten directions of heaven and earth.

Was he heading to the Original Battlefield?

The three of the First Immortal Sovereign of Jiuzhou exchanged glances—they could faintly hear thunderous roars from beyond Hangu Pass, the cries and clashes of battle weaving into a tragic, grand symphony.

“Shall we go see? Hangu Pass?”

The First Immortal Sovereign of Jiuzhou’s eyes gleamed; the deafening battle cries beyond the pass echoed in his ears, his blood surging—he longed to charge into the Original Battlefield and slaughter until heaven and earth turned upside down.

Having lived for ten thousand years, he now understood: the Immortals of the Ten Thousand Realms, the Primordial Gods and Demons, fought for the past, buried their bones on the battlefield, leaving no names behind.

He revered these gods and demons—he wished to stand beside them in battle.

“Let’s go see. The Group Master said the fallen Supremes appeared in Tianqian Gorge—perhaps they passed through the light cluster to Hangu Pass. Let’s search here.”

The Tianxie Sword Immortal gazed at Hangu Pass; his immortal sword behind him hummed in resonance.

His immortal artifact possessed a spirit—it sensed the carnage beyond the pass, yearning to drink blood, to cut down all enemies, craving the baptism of blood and fire.

Though they stood before Hangu Pass, there was still distance between them and the pass.

Hangu Pass was simply too majestic—standing before it, even from afar, they could see its colossal, towering presence, standing firm as the River of Time surged and eras changed.

Compared to the clamor outside, Hangu Pass resembled a slumbering ancient titan.

Its entire structure appeared dark and chilling; streaks of temporal thunder crashed down—but they were stained crimson, drenched in the blood of the Original Battlefield, turning the temporal thunder into vivid red.

The mighty imperial pass had endured countless trials; its walls were pitted and scarred with wounds left by supreme power, even cracked in places.

Faintly visible: demonic shadows reciting sutras, the spirits of gods roaring and screaming, desperate to storm the Nine Heavens and wage war once more; rows of ghostly soldiers and divine generals stood silent, patrolling, gripping ancient war weapons, coldly watching beyond the pass.

On full alert, ready to charge into battle at any moment.

That gaze, as if sensing the eyes of the First Immortal Sovereign of Jiuzhou and the others, turned toward them—sending chills down all three spines.

They had merely been staring at the weathered stains on Hangu Pass’s walls, at its congealed blood—and yet they saw this terrifying vision—as if the ghostly soldiers and divine generals had come alive.

Even in death, their unyielding battle will and defiant guarding spirit had soaked into Hangu Pass.

Awe-inspiring.

Strange and eerie.

Previously, from afar, they had seen Hangu Pass stretching across the boundless, perceiving only its majesty, might, sublimity, and vastness.

But now, standing before it, observing up close, they saw something different.

The entire ancient imperial pass carried an uncanny aura—too many sublime beings had died here; they could not imagine what kind of battle had occurred—so brutal, so horrific. At this moment, they realized: the pass’s blackness was not its natural color—it had been dyed black by blood.

The crimson, congealed blood likely stained it during recent eras.

……