Chapter Sixty-Six: Upon the High Platform

Why would a human body shine with a metallic luster? Chu Feng was momentarily stunned; his limited experience left him unable to comprehend the sight. Was this powerful figure’s body forged of iron?

Xiao Yue’s face flickered with astonishment, his eyes full of shock. He muttered, “I said before—even as a Saint Spirit Warrior, it’s impossible to survive for so long. This elder is a puppet.”

“A puppet?” Chu Feng frowned, confused; he couldn’t reconcile his understanding of puppets with the gray-robed man before him.

Xiao Yue, having studied such matters in his clan, was not afraid to explain, “Once one’s skill in artifact refining reaches a certain level, it’s possible to create puppets. In essence, puppets are humanoid weapons capable of independent action and combat. They possess a degree of intelligence, can even speak. Nowadays, both the demon clans and the human clans have many powerful figures who own puppets.”

He glanced at the gray-robed man and continued, “From what I can see, this elder must have suffered devastating injuries in some ancient battle—unable to see, speak, or hear, his intelligence nearly erased. Now, he guards this stone hall driven solely by instinct.”

Chu Feng couldn’t help but draw a sharp breath, his heart filled with awe. He muttered, “How powerful must the creator have been?”

Xiao Yue sighed. “Indeed, even half-destroyed, this puppet slew one of our clan’s Saint Spirit Warriors. The maker’s skill is beyond our imagination.”

Chu Feng looked at the ancestral Golden Sun Stone before him, murmuring, “What connection does it have to this puppet, to this stone hall?”

“I’m not sure. But the demon spirit within the Golden Sun Stone is likely the descendant of a peerless demon clan expert, and everything here may relate to the demon clan,” Xiao Yue said softly, shaking his head. “This place might even reach back to ancient times.”

“Ancient times?” Chu Feng echoed, bewildered.

“Yes,” Xiao Yue nodded. “In the era before conflict erupted between humans and demons, some old texts hint that humans and demons lived harmoniously, without strife.”

Chu Feng was astonished. All his life, he’d heard that humans once became food for the demon clan, and only divine mercy spared them from extinction. He never imagined there was another chapter in their shared history.

“Why did the demon clan later slaughter humans, sparking tens of thousands of years of conflict?” Chu Feng asked.

Xiao Yue shook his head. “No one knows. The history between peaceful coexistence and massacre is a complete blank—no records remain. But surely, something earth-shattering happened.”

Neither spoke further; silence fell. They felt as if they’d glimpsed the rarest wonders of the world. The stone hall undoubtedly possessed a history of astonishing grandeur, but most secrets had been buried by time, and those still hidden were not for them to uncover. Any attempt might spell eternal doom.

“Let’s go in,” Chu Feng said. He and Xiao Yue stepped through the stone gate, while the gray-robed man remained at his post like a guardian, motionless beside the entrance.

The corridor was not long, but walking through it, both felt insignificantly small.

The Golden Sun Stone led the way, and soon, they exited the passage.

Beyond lay the main hall, the heart of the stone temple.

The hall was vast, nearly fifty yards in both length and width, its ceiling rising seventy or eighty yards above. The chamber was empty save for a central platform. Directly facing the entrance, a flight of steps led up to it.

From the mouth of the corridor, Chu Feng and Xiao Yue saw something atop the platform.

Suddenly, the Golden Sun Stone darted ahead, reaching the platform at astonishing speed.

Chu Feng and Xiao Yue exchanged glances and approached.

As they walked, they noticed bloodstains scattered across the floor—some still fresh, tinged with red.

“Could someone have reached this place recently?” Chu Feng asked, puzzled.

Xiao Yue studied the blood carefully and finally said in a low voice, “No. Anyone who could make it here would be extraordinarily powerful. The blood must be infused with immense spiritual energy, which would not dissipate so quickly. This is likely the blood of that Saint Spirit Warrior from before. Even after countless ages, the strength in Saint Spirit blood is worn away only by time.”

Chu Feng was quietly alarmed. Clearly, a battle of earth-shattering ferocity had taken place here between the Saint Spirit Warrior and the gray-robed man.

He looked around, but aside from the blood, saw no signs of destruction—proof of the stone hall’s extraordinary nature.

After a brief pause, they continued, soon reaching the platform.

The platform was remarkable; even Xiao Yue, with his broad knowledge, could not discern its origins. It rose fifteen feet high, seamless and black, neither metal nor wood, its material unknown.

Ascending the steps, they found the Golden Sun Stone rolling on the floor like a spoiled child.

The platform itself was spacious, nearly twenty yards long and wide. Above, a large hole pierced the ceiling of the stone hall, through which thick, white mist was visible.

But most captivating was the object at the platform’s center—a massive bronze door.

The bronze door was not tall, only about nine feet, dwarfed by the thirty-foot entrance but no less imposing.

Both the pillars and panels were carved with ancient symbols, mottled with rust, giving a sense of timeless age.

Most startling of all, the words “Gate of Death” were engraved above.

It was puzzling—a door, not an entrance or exit, forged atop the platform, the hall’s most mysterious feature.

Chu Feng and Xiao Yue stood before the bronze gate for a long time, their expressions complicated. They circled to the other side, faces strange, realizing the tightly closed door was not meant to allow passage from one side to the other.

Finally, they returned to the front, gazing at the gate, hearts full of apprehension.

Why was it called the Gate of Death? If opened, what might emerge?

Xiao Yue slowly stretched out his right hand. Though he doubted it possible, he wanted to try pushing the door.

The moment his hand touched the bronze, he shuddered, his face turned pale, and he instinctively withdrew.

“Are you alright? What happened?” Chu Feng asked, anxious.

“The Gate of Death—truly a gate to death. Terrifying!” Xiao Yue murmured, still shaken, and then said to Chu Feng, “The sensation is hard to describe, but there’s no real harm. You should give it a try.”

Chu Feng hesitated briefly, then reached out to touch the bronze. At once, he shuddered and pulled back.

“Does it lead to the underworld?” Chu Feng muttered, looking unsettled.

As soon as he spoke, the small black sword at his chest began to hum—not with the mournful cry of earlier, but in a different tone.

Xiao Yue didn’t notice, but Chu Feng felt a chill. The sword was warning him; the gate clearly concealed a deadly threat.

He was deeply shaken. The terror defied description: touching the bronze door, he seemed to smell the stench of death and glimpse endless mountains of corpses and rivers of blood.

“I wonder if the Saint Spirit Warrior ever opened this gate,” Xiao Yue whispered.

In their eyes, this truly was the Gate of Death. Even if they could open it, neither wished to try.

They stood silently for a long time, gradually recovering. The Golden Sun Stone was still rolling on the ground, its purpose unclear.

The longer they watched, the more puzzled they grew. The stone’s movements seemed patterned, not random.

Suddenly, the Golden Sun Stone shone with brilliant gold, leaving a golden trail wherever it rolled.

The trail spread, eventually forming a complex circular pattern. At that moment, the Golden Sun Stone soared upward and dropped straight into the pattern’s center.

It touched the center and then flew to Chu Feng’s side.

By now, Chu Feng and Xiao Yue were transfixed, their eyes fixed on the intricate pattern. They guessed the Golden Sun Stone had brought them here for this very reason.

The pattern glowed gold, then seemed to catch fire—the gold faded, replaced by rising flames.

Chu Feng and Xiao Yue stared wide-eyed as a platform emerged from the blaze, with something atop it, though the flames obscured its form.

When the platform was fully raised, the fire vanished.

The Golden Sun Stone gently nudged Chu Feng’s shoulder, then flew forward, as if urging him on.

This new platform differed from the high platform, made of brown material, only a foot tall, enough to hold four or five people.

Chu Feng and Xiao Yue approached and saw a palm-sized black box resting atop it.

“It seems it wishes to give you this,” Xiao Yue said, sighing inwardly. Chu Feng was truly favored by fate; nothing in the Valley of the Mystic Moon was ordinary.

“Is this for me?” Chu Feng asked the Golden Sun Stone.

The stone bounced in the air, clearly agreeing.

Chu Feng stepped onto the platform and picked up the black box.

“What’s inside?” Chu Feng wondered, frowning. The box was unlocked, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not open it.

Xiao Yue came forward, tried himself, even attempted to refine it with spiritual power, but nothing happened.

“Whatever’s inside is surely not inferior to the Mystic Moon Bow,” Xiao Yue speculated. He believed the Saint Spirit Warrior who once came here had taken the bow, never realizing there was another treasure hidden atop the platform.

As soon as he finished speaking, the Golden Sun Stone bounced, confirming the guess and leaving Chu Feng stunned. He never imagined he’d receive a treasure rivaling the Mystic Moon Bow.

“A heavenly treasure won’t yield so easily—perhaps the time is not yet right. Keep it safe. I think we should leave,” Xiao Yue said, handing the box to Chu Feng.

Chu Feng nodded. “Let’s let it guide us out.”

Xiao Yue smiled mysteriously. “Perhaps the exit lies beneath our feet.”