Opening the Ancient Coffin

In the darkness, a soft, low laugh drifted out.

There was no warmth in that laughter. It sounded instead like shards of ice scraping across stone.

"Young man."

"Do you know why the ancient array is damaged?"

"Do you know why this Abyss of Ten Thousand Ruins is called Ten Thousand Ruins?"

"Do you know why those holy lands up there… would rather throw away lives to seal it than dare to pry it open?"

Wang Hao stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his robes snapping loudly in the storm of the imperial array, his expression still calm.

"I don't need to know."

"I only know this—since I've awakened, everyone here stays."

The voice seemed to pause for a moment, then let out another low chuckle.

"Big words."

"Just like that man from back then."

At those words, Wang Hao's pupils contracted slightly.

That man from back then?

Who?

Who laid the ancient array?

Who was this ancient corpse?

The system notifications were flickering frantically, as if warning Wang Hao that some deeply hidden thread of clues was being forced open.

[Notice: Fragmented information on the "Ten Thousand Ruins Seal-Name Stele" detected.]

[Notice: A second seal exists at the bottom of the abyss. The sealed entity is related to the ancient event of the Emperor's Fall. Its rank transcends what can be called Emperor.]

[Notice: If you obtain the clue to the "True Name of the Fallen Emperor," your suppression probability against the current target will be greatly increased.]

Wang Hao stared at the system notifications, his gaze growing even colder.

"Transcendent? Emperor?"

"True Name of the Fallen Emperor?"

"So this thing really is an ancient monster from an era long past."

He slowly raised his head and looked at the pale hand ahead of him.

"You refuse to speak your name?"

"Then I'll beat it out of you."

The moment those words fell, the Imperial Dragon Qi within Wang Hao erupted completely.

ROOOAR—!

A vast dragon's roar shattered the mist of the abyss. A golden dragon shadow coiled behind him, as if an actual ancient human emperor had descended upon the world.

At the same time, he raised a hand and seized one strand of the imperial array patterns around the Soul-Suppressing Ancient Nail, forcibly borrowing it, forming a pale chain that coiled around the neck of the half-step tenth-tier horror.

"Keep nailing yourself down."

"Try to move, and I'll tear you apart first."

The half-step tenth-tier horror let out a maddened roar, its massive body thrashing violently, but the combined suppression of the imperial array and the Soul-Suppressing Ancient Nail left it no way to break free.

And in the darkness, the ancient corpse seemed to take notice of Wang Hao's movements.

"Borrowing the array to suppress the enemy…"

"Borrowing the nail to seal the body…"

"Your methods… truly just like that man back then."

"But you're still far off."

Wang Hao didn't waste another word. He simply raised a finger and pointed.

"Sword, clear the path."

"Han Shanyue, take your men and seal the western array gate."

"Demon Lord, head east. Don't let those holy land powerhouses rush down and cause trouble."

"Yes!"

Everyone answered in unison, moving almost at the same moment.

Han Shanyue swung his war halberd and led a group of Eastern Wasteland veterans up to the high array nodes, firmly sealing a section of array eyes in the west.

The Demon Lord's black flames surged explosively, turning into a vast demonic curtain that blocked several dharma projections trying to force their way into the abyss from the east.

The New Emperor Sword, meanwhile, was practically vibrating with excitement. With a flash of its blade light, a black-gold sword scar spanning ten thousand zhang appeared down the very center of the abyss.

"Come on, come on!"

"Let this one play with you a while!"

"Let's see if this old corpse of yours is really dead or not!"

BOOM!

The sword light struck into the darkness, hitting something like an extremely hard ancient coffin, producing a piercing crack.

The next instant, deep in the darkness—a corner of a broken bronze coffin lid slowly began to be pushed open.

Thud.

A dull sound rang out.

Like something was sitting up from within the coffin.

All around, the imperial array flickered wildly, as if trying to stop it—or issuing one final warning.

Wang Hao's gaze was as sharp as a blade.

"So it's a coffin after all."

"What's buried beneath the imperial array isn't some source of horror."

"It's an ancient corpse sealed away for countless years."

"But…"

His eyes lingered on that pale hand slowly prying open the coffin lid, and for the first time, genuine solemnity appeared in his expression.

"A corpse that an emperor's array was needed to suppress... can't just be a 'corpse.'"

"What exactly are you?"

From the darkness, that voice rang out again.

This time, it was clearer than before.

"Who am I?"

"You will find out soon enough."

"Because…"

"The one who nailed me into this place once called himself an emperor, just like you."

The moment that final word "emperor" fell, the entire abyss trembled violently.

The coffin lid suddenly heaved up another inch.

A wisp of utterly ancient, utterly cold—yet somehow supreme—pressure seeped slowly from within the coffin.

The moment that pressure seeped out, all the holy land powerhouses in the upper reaches coughed blood at once.

"What?!"

"Just the leak of its aura can gravely wound a Martial God?!"

"What level of being is this?!"

Wang Hao's gaze turned completely freezing.

Because at that very moment, he suddenly sensed that the dragon blood in his own body had begun to grow faintly warm.

As if… resonating.

Or perhaps… warning.

He looked at the bronze coffin, and slowly let out a breath.

"Interesting."

"Let me see then."

"Which of us is harder—that emperor of yours from back then, or me."

With that, he took a step forward, walking directly toward the ancient coffin slowly opening before him.

And as his foot landed, the Soul-Suppressing Ancient Nail suddenly let out an unprecedented mournful cry.

At the very bottom of the abyss, the imperial array—as if finally unable to bear some more ancient impact—began to crack apart, inch by inch.

The next moment, a whisper far deeper, far more dauntless, and far more complete than before, drifted slowly from within the ancient coffin:

"Emperor?"

"Then let me see."

"If you're worthy."

After that hoarse voice, so shredded it sounded like bones grinding together, fell silent, the entire Abyss of Ten Thousand Ruins seemed to have its spine snapped clean in two.

BOOM—!

The coffin lid blasted outward in a massive shockwave, and the entire imperial array simultaneously exploded into countless pale streams of array light, like thousands of chains whipping out from the void, madly tangling around the ancient coffin.

But the being inside the coffin merely raised a hand.

Just one raise.

In an instant, all those pale chains snapped taut—then, with a series of gut-curdling cracks, dozens of them were ripped apart by that terrifying force.

"Crack!"

"Crack!"

"Crack!"

Broken chains flew everywhere. Array patterns sputtered and died. The bottom of the abyss turned into a world-ending storm woven from light and ash.

Above, countless powerhouses from the central provinces turned pale, stumbling backward.

"The venerated—no!—the imperial array… has been ripped apart!"

"It's breaking free of the seal!"

"Quickly inform the ancestral masters of the holy lands! Pay any price to seal this place again!"

"Seal it? With what?" Reverend Bai Xuan spat a mouthful of blood onto his sleeve, his face terrible to behold. "Can't you all see? Whatever just came out of that coffin isn't something a ruined remnant of an imperial array can contain!"

"Then what is it?!" Someone nearly collapsed as he screamed.

Reverend Bai Xuan didn't answer.

Because he didn't know, either.

He only knew that in this moment, the Abyss of Ten Thousand Ruins had utterly changed.

And deep in the heart of the abyss, Wang Hao stood silently amidst the shattered light of the imperial array, his robes snapping in the shockwaves, but he hadn't taken a single step back.

He looked up at the bronze ancient coffin whose lid was slowly sliding open, golden light crackling in his eyes like lightning.

“Playing tricks on the dead.”

“If you really had the power, you would have come out long ago. Why wait until now?”

Inside the bronze coffin, the voice fell silent for a moment, as if it hadn’t expected Wang Hao to remain this calm even at a moment like this.

Then, a low chuckle drifted out from within the coffin.

“You’ve got guts.”

“More guts than those who barged in back in the day.”

“Too bad guts don’t mean a long life.”

The moment the words faded, the coffin lid flipped open completely.

Boom!

A breath of darkness so deep it was absolute, yet laced with faint blood-gold glimmers, rushed skyward, tearing a massive rift in the already shattered sky above the abyss’s core.

Everyone saw it.

What lay inside the coffin was not a decayed corpse reduced to dust and ash.

It was an ancient body preserved almost perfectly intact.

He wore a tattered black-gold ancient robe, reduced to little more than a few strips of cloth, covered in cracks left by centuries of erosion, yet still hinting at former grandeur and nobility.

His face was deathly pale, even handsome by some measure, but his eyes were tightly shut. A black ancient nail mark was embedded in the center of his brow.

The most terrifying part was his body.

It wasn’t entirely dead.

Faint traces of an impossibly refined imperial aura still flowed through it—so weak it was almost imperceptible, yet so pure it was staggering.

As if dead.

And yet, as if still alive.

“This… is this a man?”

“Or a corpse?”

“Why does one glance at him make my very soul tremble?”

“How is the aura on that corpse as terrifying as an ancient imperial artifact?!”

The crowd’s scalps went numb.

Even the New Emperor Sword no longer dared to speak as recklessly as before.

It hovered beside Wang Hao, its blade humming low, its voice barely a whisper.

“Wang Hao, we’ve got a problem.”

“This corpse—it’s no ordinary ancient remains.”

Wang Hao didn’t turn around, just stared at the being inside the coffin and said flatly, “Speak.”

The New Emperor Sword said in a low voice, “The aura on him—it’s not pure death qi, and it’s not living qi either.”

“More like… someone cut him off from both life and death using extremely formidable means.”

“Someone nailed his ‘life’ shut, sealed his ‘soul’ away, and pressed his ‘Dao’ beneath this imperial formation.”

“This technique…”

The New Emperor Sword hesitated, as if even it felt a deep, creeping unease.

“This technique—it resembles the corpse-sealing art used only after the fall of an ancient emperor.”

Wang Hao’s gaze sharpened.

A corpse-sealing art used after an emperor’s fall?

That meant this corpse was very likely connected to a true imperial death.

Just as he was pondering this, the corpse inside the ancient coffin suddenly opened its eyes.

In that instant, all the light in the Abyss of Ten Thousand Ruins seemed to be sucked into those eyes.

They were not ordinary eyes.

They were eyes carrying the vicissitudes of ten thousand ages, imperial majesty, corpse-fiend chill, and a killing intent so ancient it had withered to its absolute limit.

The moment they opened, every formation pattern around them froze in unison.

Even the half-step tenth-tier aberration let out a terrified growl, its massive body shrinking backward—like a vicious hound cowed by its master.

“So that’s it…”

The ancient corpse stared at Wang Hao, a trace of faint confusion crossing its eyes, then slowly morphing into something close to a sinister sneer.

“A special constitution.”

“Imperial destiny.”

“And… that scent on you.”

“I understand now.”

He slowly sat up from the coffin, his joints cracking with soft pops, like a slumbering god of ages awakening.

“You are not him.”

“But you carry his shadow.”

Wang Hao’s expression didn’t change.

“The ‘him’ you speak of—presumably that’s the emperor who nailed you into this coffin all those years ago.”

The corpse suddenly let out a laugh.

It was low, raspy, cold, carrying a bitterness beyond words.

“Nailed?”

“You think those scum were worthy of nailing me down?”

“They only landed a cheap shot when I was at my weakest.”

“What truly trapped me here is the imperial formation.”

“What truly kept me from waking is also the imperial formation.”

“And the only one who truly stood on the same path as me—was the Emperor.”

He paused, then turned his gaze on Wang Hao like a blade.

“Too bad. You’re not him.”

Wang Hao suddenly smiled.

“Whether I am or not—that’s not for you to decide.”

“If you were still at your peak, I might spare you a second glance.”

“But right now, you’re just a half-dead corpse. Do you really think you can turn the world upside down?”

The ancient corpse raised his head slightly, seeming to study Wang Hao for the first time.

“You’re arrogant.”

“More arrogant than all those so-called chosen ones, imperial bloodline heirs, and holy land prodigies of the past.”

“But I’ve seen plenty of arrogant men.”

“Not many of them lived long.”

Wang Hao wasted no words. He raised his hand.

“Kill him.”

The New Emperor Sword erupted instantly, black-gold sword light surging skyward like a frenzied primordial black dragon, slashing straight toward the top of the ancient coffin.

At the same time, Wang Hao’s true blood roared within him, and he threw a punch.

The Eighth Form of the Heaven-Sealing, Earth-Crushing Fist!

The fist imprint towered like a mountain, carrying imperial dragon qi and the residual might of the imperial formation, slamming toward the corpse’s chest.

That single blow was enough to shatter the physical body of an ordinary late-stage Martial God.

But the ancient corpse didn’t even dodge.

He simply raised two fingers.

One finger pointed at the New Emperor Sword.

One finger pointed at Wang Hao’s fist imprint.

Clink!

The sword light met the fingertip with a crisp chime that didn’t sound like mortal combat at all.

But after that chime, the New Emperor Sword was sent flying, its blade shuddering violently, and even the sword spirit let out a rare, muffled grunt.

On the other side, Wang Hao’s fist was caught between those two fingers.

The imprint shattered, golden light scattered in every direction, and the void at the abyss’s core cracked like a spiderweb.

Wang Hao’s eyes darkened.

Strong.

Even if this ancient corpse wasn’t at full power, the fact that he could catch that punch with bare fingers—while also knocking the New Emperor Sword flying—said enough.

This thing was far more troublesome than he’d anticipated.