Chapter 466: Departed, the First Shengling

He and another player were exactly two individuals.

The objects on the altar’s platform were precisely two skulls of living beings.

Coupled with his earlier suspicion that he might be a pawn, there was no room for Kamikawa Mitsu to speculate—he said nothing, merely observing calmly, analyzing the current situation.

Regardless of who the skulls belonged to.

The only certainty was that these two skulls knew him, and perhaps they were here waiting for his arrival.

Hum!

The aura emanating from the two skulls surged wildly, as if they were about to revive from their bones.

The aura was too powerful.

Kamikawa Mitsu swore that, not counting the fictional characters he had created, this was the strongest existence he had ever encountered—without exception.

Their strength surpassed the two supreme beings Kamikawa Mitsu had witnessed in the great war that once shook this cosmos.

Far stronger than those two supreme beings.

Merely this aura alone could easily crush an entire multiverse.

Too terrifying!

With just an aura, an entire vast multiverse could not withstand it—impossible to imagine such immense power.

Supreme?

Even if not truly Supreme, they must have advanced far, far along the path to Supreme.

Kamikawa Mitsu leaned toward the former.

The two skulls were Supreme—the evidence lay in those two Supreme beings Kamikawa Mitsu had witnessed: they were not newly ascended Supremes; their battle had affected past and present, reaching into time itself.

They were two Supremes who had already touched the Supreme.

Yet the aura of these two skulls was far stronger than those two Supremes who had touched the Supreme—almost certainly, they were Supreme!

Supreme!

There truly were Supremes in this multiverse—and now he had encountered two of them directly.

Even an Immortal could not withstand the aura radiating from the skulls; body, mind, and soul would tremble.

Yet Kamikawa Mitsu felt no such heart-shaking.

Not even a flicker of fear—he felt nothing at all, and instead felt a faint… familiarity.

When the two Supreme beings had appeared and clashed before, Kamikawa Mitsu had been shaken—but now he felt no fear at all toward these two Supreme skulls.

It was as if he truly knew these two skulls.

Their aura held no malice toward him; it was not directed at him.

“You have indeed come, as promised, before reaching Immortality.”

At that moment, the white skull spoke, its eye sockets flickering with faint, swaying flames—its emotion impossible to discern.

Its voice was ancient and worn, weak, as if speaking its final words on the brink of death, sustained by a single breath.

Suddenly—

A massive disturbance erupted on the altar; the black skull shot forward with impossible speed, like a bolt of black lightning, diving straight at Kamikawa Mitsu.

Clang!

Kamikawa Mitsu reacted instantly, unleashing an Immortal technique with all his strength—the impact rang like a hammer striking metal, deafeningly sharp.

“Pity—you’re still too weak. You need to grow.” The black skull emitted a faint voice; it was knocked back, then landed calmly back on the altar.

Clearly, Kamikawa Mitsu’s attack—capable of destroying an entire world—had inflicted not the slightest damage on the black skull.

His brow furrowed slightly, then relaxed.

He understood: the black skull had no intention of attacking him, let alone killing him—it was merely testing him, with no malice.

A Supreme was still a Supreme—even reduced to a skull, it was beyond the reach of an Immortal. Had the black skull truly intended to harm him, that single strike would have killed him hundreds of times over.

Kamikawa Mitsu was merely curious—this was deeply intriguing.

These two skulls didn’t just know him—they knew him intimately. Their tone held no restraint, as if speaking to a long-lost friend.

As they spoke—

The two skulls on the altar floated upward; though their aura was restrained, it still pressed heavily upon him.

The black skull’s blood flowed once more—drops fell but hung suspended in midair, spinning endlessly, radiating a mysterious, eerie glow.

The white skull was even more mysterious: flames flickered within its eye sockets, its entire form emitting a holy light—as if this terrifying white skull were the most sacred thing in existence, a profound contradiction between appearance and expression.

Yet it felt neither unnatural nor jarring—instead, a perfect, wondrous harmony.

“You’ve said so much—won’t you tell me who you are? And how do you know me?”

Kamikawa Mitsu spoke calmly.

The mysterious, eerie skulls did not unsettle him—in fact, the greater the danger, the calmer he became, displaying an unnerving serenity.

Any other person—even another Immortal—would have panicked, for they were not facing mere mortals, but two mysterious Supremes reduced to skulls.

Imagine this:

In this grim, death-laden land of the netherworld, said to be the Yellow Quan underworld, encountering two living Supreme skulls—this was no different from an ordinary person stumbling into a horror film.

The only difference? This was far more terrifying than any horror film.

“It seems you haven’t remembered who you are,” the white skull spoke again, its jaw opening without flesh: “But you’re still as calm as ever—nothing has ever shaken your composure.”

Immediately after—

The black skull continued:

“Of course we know you—and you know us too. You’ve just forgotten us. My name is Shiqù.”

“Shengling,” the white skull introduced itself, speaking coldly and clearly.

Kamikawa Mitsu’s pupils contracted sharply.

Shiqù, Shengling—these names were so familiar.

No!

Familiar beyond any possible measure.

The next moment, he stared at the two skulls hesitantly: “You are the founder of the Shiqù lineage—the one who helped Nüwa achieve Supreme? You are… the First Shengling?”

No one understood the name Shiqù better than Kamikawa Mitsu—it was the very origin of all his supernatural events. More precisely, Shiqù was the father of the one who first released the supernatural.

He was the previous player of the game—and he lost.

In his game against another player, he was defeated, and ultimately replaced him, becoming the new player to oppose the other.

He was a loser—but also an invincible one. No one dared underestimate him because of his defeat; merely having once been a player was enough to inspire awe and trembling in all.

And the white skull named “Shengling,” with its holy radiance, led Kamikawa Mitsu to recall the First Shengling.

Shengling was a naturally born, heaven-nourished entity—an exceptionally unique being.

Such entities were collectively called Shengling.

Yet no Shengling dared call itself simply “Shengling,” for the name did not merely denote identity—it denoted the entire category of such beings.

The only being Kamikawa Mitsu could imagine daring to call itself “Shengling” was the First Shengling.

An anomaly—even among Shengling, it was an anomaly, and among all the characters he had created, it was the most peculiar of all.

The First Shengling: never appearing, undefeated in its age, born already Supreme.

“Huh? You remember us after all?”

The black skull was surprised—it hadn’t expected Kamikawa Mitsu to name them. Wasn’t he supposed to not recognize them?

…

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