Beyond the Timescape

Chapter 80: Bronze Dragon Carriage

The sun radiated a dazzling light that pierced the unruly Spirit Sea, churning the water into rolling waves that surged toward the heavens with deep, thunderous roars.

Before the echoes could fade, the waves crashed down, launching massive plumes of black foam high into the air. The corrosive spray rained down, splattering against the energy shield of Xu Qing’s Dharma Boat.

Standing at the bow, Xu Qing kept a wary eye on the sea. He raised a hand, forming an incantation seal. The boat’s protective spiritual energy pulsed, slowly burning away the Mutagen-rich seawater clinging to the barrier.

Much like the Fragmented Face of God hanging in the sky, the Spirit Sea that encircled the entire South Phoenix Continent was a domain of absolute terror and awe. Its sheer, unfathomable depth was only matched by the eternal mystery it represented in the hearts of all who sailed it.

Xu Qing lifted his gaze, tracing the distant sky down to the black waters. At the edge of the unknown horizon, the two seemed to bleed into one another.

Against this vast, cosmic expanse, the vessels coming and going from Seven Blood Eyes were nothing more than stray feathers drifting on the current—utterly insignificant.

The people aboard those Dharma Boats were even less than that.

Xu Qing remained silent. Staring out into the boundless Spirit Sea, a profound sense of his own smallness washed over him.

“The Sea Chronicles Pavilion records state that most disciples on their maiden voyage will feel insignificant. This is a natural psychological shift. Often, this state of mind breeds a desire to conquer.”

Xu Qing stared at the endless black expanse. This was his first voyage, his first time truly experiencing the sea from within its grasp.

Yet, no desire to conquer stirred within him.

He harbored no grand ideals, no sweeping ambitions. He only wanted to survive in this meat-grinder of a world.

If he could live a little more comfortably while doing so, all the better.

Thus, his paranoia remained at an all-time high. Even when he sat cross-legged to cultivate, he kept a portion of his senses locked onto his surroundings, constantly scanning for threats.

Time bled away to the rhythmic crashing of the waves. Around noon, a raucous clamor from behind broke his concentration.

A sharp glint flashed in Xu Qing’s eyes. He turned.

Seven or eight Dharma Boats were tearing through the water from the direction of the Seven Blood Eyes port, their engines roaring obnoxiously.

Aside from the lead vessel, most were Level 5 or 6.

Judging by the sheer density of its spiritual energy fluctuations, the vanguard Dharma Boat was at least Level 8 or 9. It was a gaudy, luxurious monstrosity, plated entirely in gold and adorned with metallic feathers that caught the harsh sunlight.

Against the pitch-black backdrop of the Spirit Sea, it was a blinding eyesore—like a pheasant desperately trying to fan its tail like a peacock, radiating nothing but vulgar ostentation.

The phoenix figurehead at the prow should have possessed an air of elegance, but buried under all that gold and excess, it had lost its soul. It was a floating monument to vanity, screaming for attention.

Xu Qing narrowed his eyes. His hand slipped down, quietly drawing his dagger.

The main city of Seven Blood Eyes was a brutal, hyper-capitalist syndicate, but it still operated on a strict set of rules. Foundation Establishment cultivators, for instance, rarely wasted their time slaughtering Qi Condensation disciples without a profit motive. But out here on the sea… the only law was that The weak are prey to the strong.

Whether it was foreign species, fellow humans, rival Sect members, or the cosmic horrors of the Spirit Sea itself—everything was a predator. If he had the misfortune of crossing paths with a malicious Foundation Establishment cultivator, his life would be snuffed out on a whim.

Anyone could become an enemy in a heartbeat.

The arrival of this gaudy fleet was far too conspicuous, and drifting from the deck of that golden phoenix boat was a voice Xu Qing thoroughly despised.

The sea breeze was strong, carrying the words with crystal clarity.

“Senior Sister, so many people keep asking how many Spirit Stones I sank into this Phoenix Bird. I honestly hate answering. It just makes them feel inadequate. You know how it is—since we were kids, Spirit Stones have been nothing but an endless, overflowing nuisance for people of our standing.”

“Honestly, the boat is just passable. I don’t even know why the Sect’s registry keeps pestering me, insisting on ranking it seventeenth among all Dharma Boats. I couldn’t care less about status.”

“To me, the cost in Spirit Stones is irrelevant. What matters is that this Phoenix Bird carries my dream. You see, my dream is to one day soar through the heavens like a true phoenix.”

“And Senior Sister… when I finally take flight, I hope a certain beautiful figure will be by my side. We could admire the scenery, chase our dreams, and share our burdens together.”

The voice riding the sea breeze belonged to none other than Zhao Zhongheng—the very man the Captain had dismissed as a useless sack of garbage.

He stood on the deck of the golden Phoenix Bird, hovering next to a young woman in a light purple Daoist robe.

She was in her early twenties, her features striking and elegant. From a distance, she stood tall and graceful, her purple robes blooming like a solitary flower.

Yet, as she endured Zhao Zhongheng’s endless prattle, her delicate brows knit together. Her pretty face was already tight with barely concealed impatience.

As the sea breeze whipped her purple skirt around her, her gaze drifted. She seemed to notice Xu Qing standing on his distant Dharma Boat.

Just then, the black water between their vessels erupted. A massive baleen whale breached the surface, launching its colossal body into the air, backlit by the harsh sun.

A low, thrumming whale song—a sound that felt older than the world itself—vibrated from its maw. It echoed like a mournful flute, lending an ethereal stillness to the violent sea.

As the leviathan crashed back down, a thick veil of mist and water vapor plumed into the air, obscuring the view.

Through the woman’s eyes, the sunlight fractured through the mist, splitting into a momentary, brilliant rainbow. The prismatic light washed over Xu Qing’s Daoist robe, blurring his facial features into shadow.

Yet, the cold, solitary aura he exuded etched itself deeply into her memory.

The gaudy convoy of Dharma Boats slowly roared past, shrinking into the horizon.

Xu Qing tracked their trajectory for a long time. Only when he was absolutely certain they were just passing through did he slide his dagger back into its sheath and resume his cultivation.

Time bled away. As Xu Qing cultivated and his Dharma Boat pushed deeper into the unknown, the grim, suffocating horror of the Spirit Sea began to press down on his senses.

He watched schools of rotting, half-decayed fish swim past. They seemed to retain some twisted echo of their living will, trailing clouds of black pollution that stained the water beneath his hull.

He caught sight of the terrifying silhouette of a megalodon-sized shark, its jaws snapping with apocalyptic ferocity as it shredded its prey into bloody ribbons.

Worse still were the dead zones. As Xu Qing sailed over certain stretches of water, a crushing, oppressive aura would radiate from the abyssal depths. It was a silent deterrent, a lingering malice that seeped into his very bones, forcing his paranoia to spike.

He had read about this phenomenon in the Sea Chronicles Pavilion. It was a common occurrence on the open sea. Yet, knowing this did little to quell his instinctual alarm.

Mutagen was also far more concentrated here in the Spirit Sea. It felt as if the entire ocean was composed of the stuff. This caused Xu Qing’s shadow to darken, turning pitch-black like ink, and it seemed to writhe and flow of its own accord.

Noticing this, Xu Qing didn’t hesitate. He immediately activated the Purple Crystal’s suppression power, unleashing several consecutive waves of force. The shadow was violently suppressed, fading back to its normal state. Only then did Xu Qing calmly stop, feeling slightly more at ease about his shadow.

Thus, the sun began to set, heralding the approach of Xu Qing’s first night at sea.

Perhaps because this stretch of sea was still relatively close to Seven Blood Eyes, the daytime voyage had been relatively uneventful.

The only exception came as the sun dipped toward the horizon. A school of aggressive swordfish appeared, leaping from the water in graceful arcs before plunging back into the depths.

In the dying light, their silver bodies shimmered with a strange, ethereal beauty.

Perhaps because the Spirit Sea Dragon Whale was following his boat, most of the swordfish kept their distance. But a few stragglers still slammed into the Dharma Boat’s protective shield, producing dull thuds before being flung back into the sea.

Watching the swordfish collide with the barrier at such close range, Xu Qing observed them more clearly.

They had rows of sharp, jagged teeth, giving them a ferocious appearance. Their eyes glowed with a faint red light, radiating pure savagery.

Xu Qing’s expression remained impassive. With a wave of his hand, he condensed droplets of water that seeped through the protective layer, forming a cushion. This prevented the swordfish from smashing themselves to death on impact.

The Sea Chronicles Pavilion had warned all Seventh Peak disciples sailing the Spirit Sea: unless absolutely necessary, avoid excessive slaughter of sea beasts. The more you kill, the more likely you are to attract the attention of certain… unnatural entities lurking in the depths.

As for what these entities were, the records didn’t specify. On his first night at sea, Xu Qing didn’t cultivate at all. He devoted his entire focus to the world outside his boat. Every rustle, every ripple, put him on high alert.

According to the Sea Chronicles, the dangers of the sea at night were exponentially greater than during the day.

Out here, anything was possible.

Though the records also noted that, due to the sheer vastness of the Spirit Sea, while dangers lurked everywhere, survival often came down to luck. Some had the misfortune of perishing on their very first day. Others sailed for months without incident.

Xu Qing’s luck seemed to hold. On his first night, aside from the rhythmic crash of waves and the mournful howl of the wind, nothing particularly sinister occurred.

Just as the first hints of dawn were about to break, Xu Qing closed his eyes, preparing to relax his vigilance for a moment. But at that exact instant, an overwhelming, volcanic surge of dread exploded within his mind.

Xu Qing’s body tensed instantly. His eyes snapped open, and the Dharma Boat’s protective shield flared to maximum intensity.

Along with his own eyes, the eyes of the Spirit Sea Dragon Whale lurking beneath the hull also opened. The whale’s vision was an extension of Xu Qing’s senses. In that moment of shared sight, the pitch-black abyss revealed nothing.

Yet, faintly, a sound like grinding teeth began to echo through the water.

*Crack, crack! Crack, crack!*

As the sound reverberated, the intense dread made Xu Qing’s breathing quicken. It was the same bone-chilling cold he’d felt back in the Forbidden Forest when he’d heard the singing. That same icy terror seemed to be seeping up from the deepest trenches of the sea.

Xu Qing’s expression hardened. His entire body went rigid, his cultivation base surging. The Dharma Boat instantly shifted into a defensive posture.

Gradually, his gaze sharpened. Through the Dragon Whale’s eyes, deep within the inky blackness of the abyss, he could just make out a colossal, humanoid figure.

The creature’s body was covered in writhing tentacles. Slung over its shoulder was a massive, rusted iron chain. The chain stretched into the distance, and at its end, Xu Qing could just barely discern the outline of a Bronze Dragon Carriage.

The carriage was ancient and dilapidated, covered in verdigris and the scars of countless ages. Yet, its towering frame and intricate, majestic carvings exuded an undeniable aura of imperial authority.

Now, this titan was pulling the Bronze Dragon Carriage, striding across the seafloor with massive steps. Each footfall churned the seabed, sending powerful undercurrents rippling through the water and stirring the waves above.

It seemed to be merely passing through this region of the sea. Due to the immense distance, everything Xu Qing saw was hazy and indistinct. Yet, the crushing dread and the sound of grinding teeth echoed clearly in his mind, even from so far away. His body trembled instinctively, his pupils contracted, and his vigilance skyrocketed to its absolute limit.

Only as the colossal humanoid figure slowly faded into the distance did the trembling subside and the dread gradually fade.

“What was that?” Xu Qing gasped, his face pale. He took a deep breath, stepped out of the cabin, and stood at the bow. In the predawn light, he stared out at the sea.

Through the Dragon Whale’s eyes, the massive figure in the depths was now just a faint, blurry outline in the distance.

Now, the darkness before dawn began to recede from the world. A sliver of light slowly emerged between the sea and the sky.

It was like a torch being lit, setting the black water ablaze, forming deep, shadowy clouds of vapor. The fire spread, growing brighter and brighter, until the entire sky was consumed in a blaze of crimson.

This was the light of dawn.