Chapter Twenty-Six: Ascending from Chaos to Immortality

“Child, the fact that you fell from the mountain top today is the best proof. If you don’t believe me, open that book, and all will become clear.” The old man spoke to Duguling, who stood before him, his face full of astonishment.

Duguling hastily flipped open the Chaos Codex. As he turned to the title page, a line of words caught his eye, and he was so shocked his mouth hung open, unable to believe what he was seeing. In his panic, he tossed the book aside and collapsed onto a tree stump. Cold sweat streamed down his forehead, his heart thudded violently, his fingers twitched uncontrollably, and he kept muttering, “How is this possible? How can this be?” as if he had witnessed the most unbelievable thing in the world.

For on the title page of the book, it read, “To my disciple—Duguling.”

Duguling could not accept that this was merely a coincidence. His name wasn’t one he’d chosen for himself, but one given by Grandpa Dugubai, the village chief of Dugu Village, on a whim. If what this old man said was true, that this book had been left behind by the Supreme Immortal of Chaos ten thousand years ago, then that immortal was truly terrifying beyond measure.

Seeing Duguling’s stunned expression, the old man thought something terrible had happened. He quickly picked up the book, and when he saw the inscription on the title page, he too was greatly surprised, but soon relaxed.

He carried the book back to Duguling, held it in front of him, and said, “Don’t be so astonished. For the master, nothing in this world is impossible. Still, who could have imagined he would foresee your existence ten thousand years ago? Enough now, child—keep reading. I’m sure the master has much more to say to you.”

Taking the book, Duguling suppressed his shock and turned the page again. A white light flashed from within, and from that light emerged a majestic figure, as if it had crossed the eons to appear before him.

“Master, master!” the old man cried, suddenly throwing away his cane as tears streamed down his aged face. That imposing figure was none other than Baize’s master—the Supreme Immortal of Chaos.

“Baize, do not weep. All must face birth, age, sickness, and death—no one is exempt. Though I am gone, I have no regrets. To protect the land I loved, what is death?” This was the legendary Supreme Immortal of Chaos, a giant whose story spanned ten thousand years. His deep, resonant voice, heavy with the weight of ages, spoke to Duguling. Each word seemed imbued with magic.

And this old man was indeed Baize, one of the ancient era’s ten Eight-Star Divine Beasts.

“Duguling, I know you must be very surprised. What you see is but a remnant of me. The real me has long since vanished into the river of history. From the moment you saw me, your fate was already changed. Remember this: you will bear the responsibility of protecting this continent, perhaps even this world. For you are my disciple—Duguling.”

“Ling’er, I hope you won’t mind my calling you that. By now, it must have been ten thousand years since my passing. Ten thousand years—even for me, that is a long, long time. I imagine the world must be flourishing now.”

“But, Ling’er, your time is short. After ten thousand years of peace, calamity will inevitably come. Heaven and earth show no kindness, treating all life as mere straw. You must quickly grow stronger. A catastrophe is about to sweep across this land—and you are its last hope.” The Supreme Immortal’s voice was urgent.

What? Baize was shocked. His master had instructed him to wait here for the coming disciple, then departed without a word. Not long after, he could no longer sense the blood contract they had made. Though he didn’t want to believe it, he had to accept that his master—the mightiest being in the world—was truly gone.

He had often wondered: with such power, what force could possibly destroy his master? Now he understood. His master must have gone alone to resist some ancient catastrophe, and perished in the attempt.

Duguling couldn’t help but ask, “Master, what is this catastrophe you speak of?”

“This catastrophe is… is…” The white light suddenly faded, and with it, the figure vanished as well. With the disappearance of that light, the last trace of the greatest being this world had ever known was gone.

Neither Baize nor Duguling ever learned what calamity the Supreme Immortal had foreseen.

Baize frowned deeply. “The master’s words cannot be false. I fear that soon, this catastrophe will descend upon us. Judging by his tone, it will be overwhelming, bringing devastation and misery to all living things.”

“Duguling.” The old man called out sternly.

“Yes.”

“Did you hear what the master said just now?”

“I did,” Duguling replied.

“Good. Then tell me: are you willing to acknowledge the Supreme Immortal of Chaos as your master, and in the near future, save all living beings?” Baize’s tone was severe.

“I…” Duguling hesitated, “I’m just an ordinary person. I only want to bring my loved ones back to life. As for the rest…”

Baize sighed. “Duguling, there’s something you must understand: the dead cannot return. If it were possible, I would have tried everything to bring my master back. I wouldn’t have waited here all this time for your arrival.”

Over the past six months, Duguling had inquired everywhere, scoured ancient texts, and gradually realized that once someone dies, there is no return—not even immortals can change that. Yet he refused to accept it, unwilling to let go of his last hope.

Tears flowed uncontrollably from the corners of Duguling’s eyes, the weight of disappointment and helplessness filling the heavens and earth with sorrow. For a whole year, he had worked tirelessly, hoping to join the Hidden Immortal Pavilion, to become an immortal, and then revive his family. But now, even this last sliver of hope was cruelly snatched away.

“Not even the Supreme Immortal of Chaos can do it?” Duguling asked, unwilling to give in.

Baize shook his head and continued.

“But you must remember: though the dead are gone, the living remain. When the calamity comes, no one will be spared. I don’t know what form it will take, but let me ask you—are there still people in this world you wish to protect?”

Duguling was silent. Faces began to flash through his mind: Master Yuan Longba, Big Brother Yuan Tianci, Shanshan, the blacksmiths at the forge, and even the immortal maiden he had once met in the mountains. All those who had been kind to him along his journey—he wished to protect them all.

“I ask you again: are there people you wish to protect?” Baize repeated.

“There are,” Duguling answered.

“Are you willing to protect them?”

“I am.”

“Then kneel now.”

“Huh?” Duguling looked at the old man in confusion.

“What are you looking at? Hurry up—pay your respects to your master!”

“But I already have a master,” Duguling said, thinking of his teacher, Yuan Longba.

“So what? We’re not bound by such rules. You can never have too many masters,” Baize muttered, his beard bristling.

Duguling grumbled inwardly—can you really have as many masters as you want?—but knelt down anyway. He kowtowed three times toward the spot where the Supreme Immortal’s image had appeared.

Baize was sweating nervously. Why was this boy so troublesome? If anyone else heard they could become the disciple of the Supreme Immortal of Chaos, they’d be thrilled beyond words. This boy needed coaxing and convincing. It was enough to make him anxious.

Seeing Duguling had finally become a disciple, Baize felt his part was done. He handed Duguling an egg, saying, “I came across this egg by chance. Though I am a divine beast, I cannot tell what it is. It must be extraordinary. Later, drip your blood on it to form a bond—it will surely be useful in the future.”

He thought a moment more and added, “Carry that book with you at all times. Here—I’ll give you a divine storage ring.” He pulled out an ordinary-looking ring from who knows where. “Don’t underestimate its appearance. This is a true artifact. Don’t go around showing it off—wealth is best kept hidden. This is the only storage ring of artifact rank in existence.”

Duguling had barely taken the ring before his hand trembled at the thought that this unremarkable trinket was actually a divine artifact. He was amazed, though it hardly compared to the shock he’d felt upon seeing his name in the ancient book.

“This ring can hold a world within, and even breaks the limitation of not storing living beings. For that alone, the Void God Ring deserves its place among the Ten Great Artifacts. It’s perfect for trickery and ambush. I no longer need it, but you must use it well, do you hear?” Though Baize spoke casually, his heart ached at giving it away.

If not for Duguling being the master’s disciple, he would never have parted with it.

“This ring will easily hold your Chaos Codex. And that hammer of yours—I believe it’s more than just an ordinary magical tool. It resembles something I once heard of, but I can’t recall it right now. I’ll check for you next time. For now, I must return to the beast clans. If you have the chance, come find me at the Myriad Demon Mountains. Remember, train hard and grow strong. I’m off.” With that, he vanished in the blink of an eye.

Duguling suddenly realized that Baize had forgotten something. He shouted into the sky, “Senior Baize, how do I get out of here?”

Ps: Today, Jiemo’s mood is very low—the application for a contract was rejected. But don’t worry, Jiemo will never drop this story. I’ve been planning this book for three years, and even scrapped a hundred thousand words to start over. I hope you can see how much effort I’ve poured into it. I’m not a great writer, just a newcomer to writing, but as long as there’s even one reader, as long as I wake up to a single click, I’ll keep writing—one year, two years, contract or not, I’ll keep going. If you enjoy this story, please help spread the word. Your support means everything to me. Thank you, and apologies for the long note.