The Ancient Gods' Whisper

She knew about those private matters.

Back in the West Port Forbidden Zone, Sister Moon Princess had used her connections to get her to deliver a Heavenly Evil Spirit.

When she had curiously asked about it back then, she learned the true identity of this boy.

She had initially wondered what kind of person could make that icy beauty lose her composure so entirely.

And now that she saw him, it turned out he was nothing but a scumbag.

Bringing another woman onto the Bren Hill, and acting so intimately with her.

The longer she stared, the more displeased she felt. Suddenly, she ordered her subordinate, "Xiao Wu, arrange for that Gu Ting to be seated next to our private lounge. I have something I want to say to him personally later."

·

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Half an hour later, Gu Jianlin had completed the procedures and obtained the admission ticket to the auction.

"The auction will last quite a while, let's find a chance to slip away later."

He lowered his voice.

Tang Ling followed closely behind him and responded with a soft "Okay."

A servant ahead of them guided them down a shadowy corridor, adorned on both sides with framed ancient paintings. The ground shimmered like transparent Liu Li, faintly glowing with hints of gold.

At the end of the corridor was a grand, Holy Temple-like ballroom. Bright spotlights shone upon an enormous stage, with towering columns surrounding it, and the walls radiating shifting light and shadows. The faint outlines of Ancient God Clan civilization emerged—those Giants perched above the clouds, gazing down upon the world with a profound, religious aura.

The audience seating was already packed, shrouded under dim overhead lighting, people whispering to each other.

In addition, there were six separate private boxes located at the best vantage points above, overseeing the seating below.

They seemed reserved only for six board members who were qualified to occupy them.

Meanwhile, a beautiful host stepped onto the stage and spoke softly.

"Tonight is a sleepless revelry, a place that is both Hell and paradise. Welcome to the Dark World."

Smiling faintly, she faced the audience and continued, "From the darkness, we were chosen, from destruction, we are reborn, and amidst chaos, we seek salvation. In the shadows, we ignite kindling and burn away the decay."

She declared, "To the glorious King."

Every person in the audience stood up, intoning deeply, "To the glorious King."

Gu Jianlin and Tang Ling, clueless about the ritual, could only mimic the others' actions.

The next moment, everyone sat back down.

The host said, "Before tonight's auction begins, we've prepared a special surprise for one distinguished guest. The Bren Hill Auction will commence in twenty-five minutes, but in the meantime, please enjoy the theatrical performance crafted by the You Ying Group—Ancient Catastrophe."

Tang Ling was slightly taken aback: "Wait, Ancient Catastrophe?"

Gu Jianlin was equally shocked; he hadn't anticipated a play before the auction.

The audience erupted into murmurs of surprise; they clearly hadn't expected this treat either.

Yet, just hearing the words "Ancient Catastrophe" was enough for them to grasp its significance.

Snap.

The lights within the ballroom dimmed completely.

The glass curtain walls around them flickered with light as holographic projections ignited.

Accompanied by melancholic classical music, the actors made their grand entrance.

The Holy Temple was replaced by a cracked and barren wasteland, the blood-red sunset saturating the horizon, casting its glow upon five colossal statues. These figures towered into the heavens like The Immortal of Colossal Spirit, draped in vivid red robes, their faces obscured as they lowered their heads in silent reverence. They gazed down from above with profound, enigmatic intensity, commanding awe.

Countless fragments of stone hovered weightlessly in the air, as if the world itself had lost gravity.

Beneath the dim, crimson sun, faint images of massive planets could be seen—they lay dormant in the depths of the Universe, connected by starry pathways like veins of a magnificent and resplendent civilization.

In the apocalyptic silence, the echoes of enormous sighs reverberated.

"Red, why did you betray humanity?"

In the dim twilight, a black-haired, red-eyed man was pierced by an ancient Tang Blade, his body frozen in the Void, resembling a martyr crucified upon an invisible cross. His form visibly withered at an alarming rate.

Besides him, four others were similarly impaled by Tang Blades, suspended in place and unable to move.

Time seemed to hasten, their bodies decaying rapidly towards death.

"All these years, you've been calling me a traitor to humanity so often that I'm sick of hearing it."

Someone sighed softly, his silhouette stretched by the fiery sunset, seemingly extending to the ends of the earth.

"But I believe—I'm the only savior of the Human World."

He paused before continuing, "Sadly, geniuses are always lonely and misunderstood. Alright, stop trying to use Divine Sacrificial Fire to siphon Life Force. Donghuang of the Eighth Rank, are you so unwilling to face death?"

His voice was youthful—gentle yet firm.

The Donghuang let out a deep sigh, saying: "So saving the world means slaughtering all the Ascenders and severing the Inheritance Path? Such madness—no wonder even your allies abandoned you."

The young man laughed, "Don't put it like that. In the Dark World, I actually have many supporters. This world has been sick for too long, to the point of being beyond cure. Sometimes, without destruction, there can be no renewal. And as for the Inheritance Path, what's so good about it? Is it humanity's preservation mission you're unwilling to let go of—or the power it brings you?"

"You haven't shown that your methods can truly save this world."

The Donghuang said gravely, "All this is merely your delusional obsession, a self-serving fantasy."

The young man suddenly sighed in regret, his tone shifting to cold indifference: "I remember in the autumn of 1820, my teacher brought me and my senior brother to London for further studies. We listened to an old priest preaching in a chapel. There was one passage that stuck with me... If I'm not mistaken, it was from Bible·Matthew, Chapter 13."