After Transmigrating into an Evil God - Chapter 33

That ray of light penetrating this terrifying nightmare carried with it an ancient dream.

Ancient, vast, and boundless. With just a single collision, it swallowed the Dream-Eating Tapir’s dream formation.

Like the ocean swallowing a drop of water, the sky absorbing a wisp of wind—because it was so immensely vast and all-encompassing, it didn’t even raise a single ripple.

The Dream-Eating Tapir froze in place. The terrified child fell right at the edge of his sharp, blade-like teeth, yet he couldn’t move even a fraction.

That ancient dream had already descended, seizing control of everything with unstoppable force. He was paralyzed in place, every inch of his body feeling as if it were embedded in solid rock, fitting so seamlessly that he couldn’t even tremble. Instinctive awe and fear rose from the depths of his heart, making it impossible for him to muster even the slightest thought of resistance.

Such a dreamscape… Such a deity…

The Dream-Eating Tapir clenched his teeth tightly. However great the awe and fear rising in his heart at this moment, his resentment and hatred ran just as deep!

These lofty deities and cultivators—why didn’t they appear when he prayed? Why didn’t they stop those who first committed evil? Now that he no longer prayed, no longer hoped for anyone to come save them, now that he had fought for and won the hope of revenge himself, these lofty beings appeared again to stop him!

But no matter how deep the Dream-Eating Tapir’s resentment ran, the pitch-black curse formation flashing with eerie runes still shattered with a thunderous crash.

The people trapped within fell from it into another dream—the deity’s dream.

The earth was vast, the sky expansive. Mountain ranges rose and fell in the distance, a long river wound and coiled nearby.

The boundless primordial aura rushed toward them, leaving mortals long accustomed to human civilization utterly shaken.

Chi Zhenzi hovered in mid-air. He looked down at the earth below, feeling it was both strange and familiar.

Since achieving some success in cultivation, he had left the mountains to travel the world, visiting countless places, yet he had never seen such mountain and river patterns as these before him.

Yet he distinctly felt a sense of familiarity with this land, as if he had seen it before, or perhaps visited some of these places.

Chi Zhenzi’s gaze fell upon a small peak. Though called a small peak, it was actually a mountain range stretching for dozens of miles. The reason for calling it “small” was because the mountain beside it was truly too high, too massive.

Vast and solid, towering as if to support the heavens—those high, unreachable white clouds in the sky merely encircled the mountainside of this peak. Thus everything between heaven and earth was made to seem tiny and insignificant in comparison.

Chi Zhenzi didn’t recognize this mountain so high it was shocking, but he recognized the small peak beside the great mountain.

That was Diancang Mountain, where he was from.

“In ancient times there was Tianzhu Mountain, high enough to support the heavens, the peak where the sun rises, the source of earth’s veins. Our Diancang Mountain is a branch of Tianzhu Mountain, enjoying the remnant blessings of Tianzhu Mountain. The earth’s power is abundant and spiritual energy is rich—it’s one of the world’s rare blessed lands.”

“Then wouldn’t the spiritual energy in Tianzhu Mountain itself be even more concentrated?” the young Chi Zhenzi had once asked with longing.

But his teacher shook his head with a smile. “Setting aside that Tianzhu Mountain already collapsed 120,000 years ago and no longer exists in this world, even if Tianzhu Mountain still stood today, you couldn’t ascend it.”

“That is the pillar supporting heaven—its pressure is heavy and its momentum vast. Ordinary cultivators can’t even climb to the mountain’s foot, so how could they cultivate within the mountain?”

The memory ended there. When Chi Zhenzi looked again at this dreamscape world, his gaze was already filled with shock.

Tianzhu Mountain had collapsed 120,000 years ago. Could this dream world actually be a scene from 120,000 years past?

Then what kind of ancient existence must the master of this dreamscape be?

He raised his head to look at the sky. There, a figure shrouded in radiance hung high above.

A deity…

Vast and majestic radiance fell down, shining warmly and gently on each person, dispelling unease and soothing fear. Those things that were cold, dark, and vicious—under this light they were like snow falling into fire, melting away in an instant.

The deity suspended on high lowered his gaze. No one could see clearly the true appearance of the deity beneath that radiance. They only glimpsed a corner of light-like white robes, yet each person could feel the deity’s gaze falling upon them, and suddenly an inexpressible emotion arose in their hearts.

Like people long accustomed to thirst suddenly seeing an oasis, like those who had never tasted sweetness eating honey for the first time. They seemed to learn something from that gaze, and suddenly realized they had been living in boundless darkness and a sea of suffering.

But now they had seen the light—so how could they not weep?

The Dream-Eating Tapir wept the most fiercely. His eyes wept blood with fierce cruelty and brutality. He glared up at the deity in the sky with resentment, yet tears fell uncontrollably, soaking the ancient earth beneath his feet.

All his dream threads had already snapped when the deity’s dream descended. His dream formation was also destroyed. He was a man-eating demon—that deity would not side with him.

Revenge was hopeless, the path ahead perilous.

The Dream-Eating Tapir stared furiously with wide eyes at the deity suspended high above, untouched by the mortal world. Even though he couldn’t see clearly the true appearance beneath that radiance, he seemed determined to carve it into his bones and blood—to remember it, to hate it!

The more he looked, the more he hated. The more he hated, the more he wept!

Those tears seemed to have their own consciousness—no matter what, they refused to stop.

The deity’s radiance-cloaked sleeve moved slightly, and the black fragments scattered across the earth gathered into his hand, reassembling in his palm into a black curse formation.

The Dream-Eating Tapir was also drawn over involuntarily, entering that hazy light.

“This is your dream?” He heard the deity’s detached voice.

The Dream-Eating Tapir didn’t want to answer at first. He glared resentfully at the deity in that radiance, but when his eyes adjusted to the brilliance and he saw the deity’s true appearance, he couldn’t help but freeze.

The deity shrouded in such vast, warm radiance was not at all what mortals might imagine—lofty and sacred in appearance.

Those pitch-black eyes were like the Nine Netherworld beneath the abyss. The trace of a smile at the corner of his mouth was wickedly unrestrained. The way he looked at the Dream-Eating Tapir wasn’t the disgust ordinary righteous deity cultivators showed toward man-eating demons, but rather was full of interest.

“Yes,” the Dream-Eating Tapir answered.

“Xuanqing Sect…” he heard Da Xuan murmur lowly, snorting with mockery.

The Dream-Eating Tapir seized upon those words. He had never heard the name Xuanqing Sect before, but he guessed at its meaning.

“Is this curse formation their method?!” he asked shrilly.

Da Xuan didn’t speak. A pair of deep eyes looked at him. The Dream-Eating Tapir looked into those eyes like the Nine Netherworld abyss, and suddenly understood where those tears beyond his control had come from.

This world was incomplete.

Karma could be severed, fate could be disrupted.

Those who plant good causes don’t reap good results; those who plant evil causes don’t receive evil retribution. Those who sharpen their teeth and suck blood sit in high halls; those who cry out in injustice with weeping blood have no one to avenge them.

The karmic thread between him and the Xuanqing Sect had long been forcibly severed by the other party. In this life, he should have had no chance for revenge—he couldn’t even learn their name!

They lived in a world where good and evil were indistinguishable, chaos and order inseparable!

“Worship me, and I will fulfill your wish.” Da Xuan looked at the resentful and grieving Dream-Eating Tapir. Those eyes like the Nine Netherworld abyss actually seemed to show a trace of compassion.

The Dream-Eating Tapir wept tears and howled miserably, “I have nothing left. Whatever you want, take it! I want the Xuanqing Sect destroyed, I want those who escape retribution to perish, I want those existences who forcibly sever karma and disrupt fate to all die!”

“Very well.”

The deity gave his promise, and karma condensed. Da Xuan raised his hand and grasped a brush as white as bone, its tip made of fine strands gathered into a cold, sharp point.

“Then… let us begin with you.”

Before the Dream-Eating Tapir could react, the brush tip pierced into his heart. He instinctively looked down, feeling something being drawn away by this brush. It was all his blood and resentment. He raised his head again—this action was already beginning to tire him.

He was about to die, the Dream-Eating Tapir realized. But it didn’t hurt much. Instead, he felt relief.

Phantoms of dream realm beasts emerged from his heart one after another—mirage beasts, nightmares, wanqi… and dream-weaving spiders.

They looked at the Dream-Eating Tapir, then at the deity. That offering was theirs, that resentment was theirs, that wish was also theirs.

The Dream-Eating Tapir’s breath and form began to dissipate. He no longer cared whether he could survive. He only kept his eyes wide open, looking at the deity, illusory blood weeping from his gradually fading eyes.

“I have answered you.” Da Xuan’s cold eyes looked at him, yet seemed to see more—seeing the past, the present with countless beings like him, and the future with countless beings who would become like him.

These eyes were sharp and cold, yet deep within the pitch-black pupils was utter desolation and compassion.

The Dream-Eating Tapir’s heart settled. He turned his head to look at the phantom of the dream-weaving spider, dissipating together with them, merging into the brush tip.

Da Xuan lowered his gaze, looking at the people on the ground.

They looked up at the sky. That radiance was too vast—no one could see the enormous shadow hidden beneath it.

Da Xuan withdrew his gaze, still wearing that mocking, desolate smile at the corners of his mouth. Some things shouldn’t be revealed yet. He pressed below his left eye, sealing away these memories one by one.

…

The Dream-Eating Tapir’s dream formation shattered. The controlled people recovered. The deity left not a single word. That vast, boundless dream quietly dispersed, returning the consciousness of those within the dream to reality.

Chi Zhenzi awoke from the dream. Opening his eyes, he only saw the Earth God bowing in thanks. “Fellow daoist, you saved countless lives in my Shuigu Town…”

Chi Zhenzi hurried to support the Earth God. “It wasn’t I who saved them.”

He recounted everything from the dream. “…Later, that deity broke the dream formation, took away the Dream-Eating Tapir, and disappeared.”

“It was that deity who saved everyone. I acted rashly this time and nearly endangered others’ lives. This is my fault.”

After speaking frankly, Chi Zhenzi added, “Fellow daoist, your earth qi has been severely depleted and you need rest. If there’s anything you need me to do, please speak directly.”

“Then I thank you, fellow daoist.” The Earth God didn’t stand on ceremony with him.

After this calamity in Shuigu Town, there were many matters to handle. Injured people needed treatment, wavering hearts needed to be stabilized. Beyond this, there were also the effects people suffered in the illusions deliberately crafted by the Dream-Eating Tapir.

This demon’s temperament was extremely crazed—he believed all mortals deserved death.

But for ordinary people who didn’t cultivate, judging by actions rather than thoughts was sufficient. If one were to judge by thoughts, there would be no good people in the world. Even the great scholars of the age who were admired by all—which of them would dare say they had never harbored even the slightest evil thought?

Most mortals had insufficient strength of character. Though they had evil thoughts, they also knew they needed restraint. If such thoughts had no opportunity to grow, they wouldn’t cause trouble.

But now the Dream-Eating Tapir had turned people’s darkest hidden thoughts inside out. Though the earth qi currently harmonized and suppressed them, this wasn’t a long-term solution. If left unaddressed, who knew how much trouble would arise in Shuigu Town in the future?

Human hearts had no constant nature—they were changeable and difficult to guide. While the Dream-Eating Tapir had easily turned out evil thoughts, the Earth God was tearing his hair out over it. In the end, he could only come up with a solution that wasn’t really a solution: seal away people’s memories of the illusions deliberately crafted by the Dream-Eating Tapir, letting them gradually fade and disappear.

The Medicine Divine Lady Wangyue worshipped by the Yun family was kept running in circles because of this. Even though the Earth God requested help from other deities and divine path cultivators more skilled in dream arts, it was still just a drop in the bucket.

Speaking of which, this kind of work eliminating dream influence was something the Dream-Eating Tapir, who naturally possessed dream-eating divine abilities, would be more skilled at. However, such naturally born strange beasts weren’t easy to find. The only Dream-Eating Tapir they currently knew about was the one just taken away by the deity in the dream.

Chi Zhenzi and the Earth God had also been searching for that deity, both to give thanks and to learn the whereabouts of that Dream-Eating Tapir. It had devoured half the people of Taiwu County—the other perpetrators behind the scenes still hadn’t been identified. The Dream-Eating Tapir was an important clue.

But now, only the Huai River Divine Lord knew a little about that deity, and the Huai River Divine Lord’s understanding of that deity amounted to only having met him twice.

In Shuigu Town, the Earth God and Chi Zhenzi were worrying about finding Li Chi amidst all their busyness. Inside the Li Manor, Li Chi, who had just awakened from the dreamscape, was equally troubled.

His memory of entering the dream this time seemed to have some problems?