I Was the Heavenly Emperor in the Primordial Age

Chapter 28: Little Roc

Here it was still a place of silence and peace.

The high mountains, the sea of clouds, and the Blue Bird accompanied him. The Divine Wood stretched lushly into the distance, while above, the light seeping down from the human world was distorted and dreamlike.

“Chirp!”

Sensing that Li Jun had awakened, the Blue Bird let out a call.

Li Jun looked at the Blue Bird, uncertain where it had gone after ten thousand years—whether it had long since vanished, or whether it slumbered still in the endless darkness beneath the Longevity Temple and Tao Mountain Island.

Everything around him remained unchanged, yet Li Jun faintly felt that something was not quite right.

At last, he discovered what had changed.

“Hm?”

He noticed that the Divine Stone seemed to have grown smaller. Though not obvious at first glance, it had indeed diminished by quite a lot.

Li Jun faintly felt that the Divine Stone’s power was being drawn ceaselessly into the distance, as though something were awakening.

Li Jun thought to himself: “What is it?”

But his instincts told him that besides the Blue Bird and the Peach Tree, another demon had appeared.

His Double Pupils lit up. He attempted to use the Blue Bird’s power to trace where that force was heading, but he could not find it.

He then tried searching with the power of the Peach Tree, yet again no answer was found.

This space did not seal the Divine Stone’s power within it as Li Jun had first thought. Instead, because of the strength of this space, the Divine Stone’s power could spread without limit to faraway places, while only Li Jun was trapped here.

At that moment, Li Jun suddenly heard a voice calling from afar.

“Emperor!”

“The Ximu Clan is beset by danger…”

As that voice came, a figure connected with the Blue Bird, and then that link flowed through the Blue Bird to him. Thᴇ link to the origɪn of this information rᴇsts ɪn novelꜰire.net

He saw beneath an ancient altar, someone using Feather-Divination to beseech the Emperor, asking about the fate and survival of their clan.

The recent state of the Ximu Clan was not good.

To the southwest, the Hanhuang Clan had annexed many other tribes, gathering them as they returned to the southern foothills of Mount Kunlun. In order to contest with the Ximu Clan for the right to worship at Mount Kunlun, they had launched war again and again, openly declaring vengeance.

Meanwhile, to the north, another migrating tribe was also rising. They, too, possessed a power similar to that of shamans, and were now contending with the Ximu Clan for a fertile land, already threatening the Ximu Clan’s survival.

This year, the Hanhuang Clan once again launched vengeance against the Ximu Clan. At the same time, the northern tribe began its assault, leaving the Ximu Clan on the verge of collapse.

The Fertile Fields.

On this vast plain, the warriors of the Ximu Clan were engaged in a great battle against another major tribe. Both sides fought fiercely, wielding spears, shields, and bows.

Beneath these two great tribes were also many smaller clans, distinguishable by their formations and the weapons in their hands. Among them, those who carried axes or distinctive arms were clearly the leaders of these small tribes, or captains responsible for leading warriors.

The people of the Ximu Clan mostly wore hemp garments and jade ornaments. Their weapons were the finest, and they charged at the very front.

Their fiercest enemies, however, were a group of horsemen with shaven heads. Many wore ghost masks with only one eye, and called themselves the One-Eyed Clan.

Yet, looking closely, the solitary eye carved into the ghost masks resembled a blazing flame that emitted light.

“Kill!”

“Shoot them down!”

“Heaven protect us!”

The battle across the plains had been in stalemate, but at that moment two shamans entered the fray, instantly escalating the brutality of the battlefield.

A great bird swept down from above, its wings like blades slicing through horses, carriages, and men alike. Its talons could easily rend the fiercest and strongest warriors.

But from the One-Eyed Clan stepped forth their leader and shaman—a single man. Once transformed, his torso and limbs disappeared, leaving only a shadow resembling a black serpent, or even a black dragon.

Yet his head remained, still hidden beneath a ghost mask. His face was twisted and fierce, spewing flames from his mouth. Wherever he slithered along the earth, fire consumed the ground.

At first, the Ximu Clan’s shaman only sought to repel the enemy’s elite forces, but upon realizing the threat of this man-headed dragon-bodied existence, the two shamans engaged one another directly.

The shaman of the Ximu Clan could fly, granting her a natural advantage. At first, the One-Eyed Clan’s shaman struggled, forced to draw the battlefield closer to the Ximu Clan, mingling their forces together, then raising flames to keep the Ximu shaman at bay.

But as night gradually fell, the man-headed dragon-bodied shaman grew fiercer, while the Ximu Clan’s shaman, hindered by the dark, struggled to pursue the elusive enemy. Moreover, some of the One-Eyed warriors could fight as if in broad daylight even in the black of night.

After a great battle, the Ximu Clan was forced to retreat.

Even the shaman of the Ximu Clan, Little Roc, was drenched in blood. Yet flying above, she guided the way, leading the remaining warriors in withdrawal.

The crushing defeat filled the Ximu Clan with wailing and wrath.

“Just now, I saw a shaman from the Hanhuang Clan.”

“They must have sent people here as well. Otherwise, how could the One-Eyed Clan have known our formations? They even knew that Little Roc could fly, and so hid many of their men from sight, invisible from above.”

“They also targeted our archers directly. Clearly, the Hanhuang Clan colluded with them.”

“If the One-Eyed Clan and the Hanhuang Clan unite to attack us from both sides, we will be in grave peril.”

At this moment, Little Roc imitated the former Great Roc and began divination.

Beneath the altar, flames roared high. The people of the Ximu Clan stood together, forming a “forest.” At the very front, Little Roc knelt, dressed in hemp robes with jade rings on her ears, lifting both hands high to divine.

“Danger!”

“Danger!”

“Still danger!”

Three times she divined, and three times the omens warned the same: whether they struck first at one side, or even attempted to flee, this time they faced utmost peril.

At once, unease spread among the Ximu Clan.

“The Hanhuang Clan must have allied with the One-Eyed Clan. No matter which side we strike, the other will ambush us.”

“And they have surely sworn to annihilate us. Even if we flee, it will be the same.”

“The hatred of the past has caught up with us. Now the Hanhuang Clan comes seeking vengeance.”

Among the Ximu Clan were capable minds, and through analysis of the omens, they swiftly discerned the possible outcomes. They now concluded the crisis was indeed at its peak.

By tradition, in such moments of life and death, they had no choice but to pray directly and seek guidance from the Supreme Emperor.

“But recently, the Emperor has not responded to us.”

“Perhaps because we and the Hanhuang Clan both contest for the altar beneath Mount Kunlun, and they too have held rituals. So the Emperor’s gaze turned to the Hanhuang Clan.”

“We must defeat the Hanhuang Clan, and reclaim the altar beneath Mount Kunlun.”

“But we…”

Before the altar, the crowd was in disarray. No one had any good ideas. The firelight flickered across their faces, casting shifting shadows.

At this time, Little Roc stood up: “Hold the ritual. Let me beseech the Emperor through divination!”

Everyone rose together: “Yes!”

Beneath the altar.

Little Roc recalled many scenes she could not remember before, as if about her mother, the Great Roc, though she was uncertain. Ever since her mother had transcended into the heavens, she could scarcely recall her.

Her vision blurred, as though someone were dancing atop Jade Mountain, singing before Heaven and the Emperor.

She stepped onto the altar’s stone slabs, her sleeves flowing as she danced, her movements overlapping with that figure, even humming the same song.

That lingering voice, carried by firelight and rising smoke, drifted toward the Ninth Heaven. She danced gracefully, as if she were a bird soaring through the sky.

Amidst the play of light and shadow.

Feathers appeared one by one, scattering around her, forming a pattern that resembled both a totem and an array.

At last, she knelt upon the ground, as though she had become another Great Roc.

“Emperor!”

“The Ximu Clan is beset by danger, I beseech you…”

Many times before, she had sought the Emperor through Feather-Divination, but the lofty Emperor never responded. Yet this time, it seemed different.

“Whoosh!”

The wind howled around the altar. Little Roc first heard the gasps of the clan gathered nearby.

Then she felt her consciousness drifting toward the heavens. That voice grew smaller and smaller, as if she were leaving the mortal world farther and farther behind.

Gradually, mists appeared before her eyes, and deeper within the mists she saw mountains, a Divine Tree, and a lake.

“Kunlun!”

It was not the half-shattered Jade Peak of Kunlun, but the true Kunlun of her memories.

Little Roc gradually saw the altar once built by the Great Roc, and she also saw the Divine Stone from her childhood memories.

Her impression of the Emperor remained from when she was very young. She remembered that towering Jade Peak, the immense Peach Tree, the beautiful Blue Bird, and the Divine Stone that stood like the sun and moon.

Yet at this moment, the Divine Stone had risen with the winding tree trunk. When she lifted her head, she could no longer see clearly the figure of the Emperor.

She remembered that when she was a child, she had once spoken to the Emperor. But that was too long ago—so long that even her memories had blurred.

Now, once more standing before the Emperor, she was no longer that lively and innocent child. She dared not act freely as she had in the past.

Trembling, she asked: “Emperor, is it truly you who speak with me?”

The Emperor said: “You have grown up.”

Little Roc froze for an instant, then said: “It is not a dream. I would not dare meet you in a dream. The Emperor in my dreams would never speak to me in this way.”

The Emperor asked her: “You seek divination from me. What is it that troubles you?”

Only then did Little Roc recall the purpose of her divination. She told him of the plight of the Ximu Clan, the threat of the Hanhuang Clan, and of the northern One-Eyed Clan with their strange power, growing stronger with each day.

Li Jun was not much interested in the Hanhuang Clan, for he already knew all about them.

But regarding the northern One-Eyed Clan and the power they wielded, Li Jun quickly noticed that the shaman of the One-Eyed Clan described by Little Roc resembled those shamans once affected by the Candle Dragon and the Candle Soul.

Perhaps they were indeed the reason he had come this time. From them, he could find answers.

Yet to fully grasp that answer, he needed the Ximu Clan to act.

Cautiously, Little Roc asked: “Emperor, how may my Ximu Clan survive this calamity?”

The Emperor said: “The problem began with the One-Eyed Clan, and in the end the problem lies upon them.”

Little Roc asked: “What must I do? How can I bring disaster upon the One-Eyed Clan?”

The Emperor: “You are mistaken.”

Little Roc grew more anxious: “Emperor, where have I erred?”

The Emperor: “The One-Eyed Clan and their shaman are but the surface. What matters is the being behind them.”

Little Roc quickly asked: “Emperor, who is it behind the One-Eyed Clan? From where did their shaman come?”

Her question seemed to touch upon something. At that moment, Little Roc saw the Blue Bird stir, crying sharply.

She lifted her head, gazing toward the lofty Divine Stone.

Within the Divine Stone, the Emperor’s figure stood unmoving. Yet his eyes changed—becoming Double Pupils that fixed upon her.

Those eyes seemed to pierce through her every thought. All of her lay bared before him.

Not only her past, but also the words she was yet to speak, and the deeds she was yet to do.

And at that moment, from Little Roc’s vision, the Emperor saw the being behind the One-Eyed Clan, and finally confirmed something.

“It is the Candle Dragon.”

At this, Little Roc asked again:

“Emperor, how can we defeat and slay him?”

Perhaps she still believed that this being called Candle Shadow or Candle Dragon was merely another shaman.

The Emperor: “You cannot kill it. It possesses a power the same as the Blue Bird and the Peach Tree. You have seen that bird fall upon me, and you have seen what happened to the one who touched this stone.”

At this, the Emperor finally revealed some truth to her.

“My power is leaking uncontrollably outward. That Candle Dragon is the next of them. With your power, you cannot kill it.”

Little Roc’s expression changed at once. She had witnessed the disaster of Hanhuang in the past—the terrifying sight of the Divine Peach Tree. Mist had spread across the sky, covering the world, countless people vanishing within.

She had seen the Peach Tree take away the vast Jade Peak of Mount Kunlun, erasing it from the earth. Such power was as dreadful as a natural catastrophe. For mortals, it was impossible to resist.

Little Roc grew desperate: “But when did the Candle Dragon come to Kunlun? When did it touch the Divine Stone?”

Li Jun had a guess.

“In the ancient days, when I fell from the Ninth Heaven and spanned the Nine Provinces, divine fire rained upon the world. The Candle Dragon must have been among them—or gained its power then.”

Little Roc no longer held any illusions. That behind the One-Eyed Clan was something akin to the Blue Bird and the Divine Peach Tree—of this she was nearly certain.

At once, the Hanhuang Clan became but a minor affliction. The One-Eyed Clan was their greatest threat and foe.

“Emperor, how may we survive this catastrophe?”

She no longer called it a crisis, but used the words of the Ximu Clan for their most dreadful fear: “disaster” and “calamity.”

At this moment, Little Roc clung to the Emperor as though he were her life-saving straw, praying endlessly. In her eyes, without the Emperor’s protection, the Ximu Clan had no hope of surviving.

The Emperor regarded Little Roc for a while, then at last spoke.

“You have already mastered the second stage of the shaman’s power. You may construct a true altar, carve the totem and image of the Blue Bird. Through sacrifice, you may borrow a portion of its power, letting it descend upon you.”

This method was akin to the “inviting the god to possess the body” technique once used by Li Jun and Zhou Shentong. Even the building of true altars and rites was something Li Jun had only half-learned at the Longevity Temple.

Little Roc looked at the Blue Bird. She had not seen it reveal much of its true power, but even the ability to divine misfortune and fortune was enough for her to sense its might.

Little Roc said: “Let the Blue Bird descend upon me?”

The meaning of “Roc” was, in truth, another variant of the Blue Bird. The Great Roc had called herself such because she wished to be like the Blue Bird—delivering the Emperor’s heavenly decrees to the mortal realm.

And now, it seemed she was to truly feel the Blue Bird’s power, even to become part of it.

In a daze, Little Roc heard the Emperor ask: “Have you remembered the Blue Bird’s form?”

Little Roc quickly answered: “I have remembered.”

The Blue Bird’s complete form had long been etched clearly in her heart—there was no need for this reminder.

The Emperor: “Look beneath your feet.”

Little Roc lowered her head at once. The altar once built by her mother, the Great Roc, to worship the Emperor, began to change. Stones shifted and joined, forming at last a divine pattern.

The Emperor: “Remember, it can be used only once. You must use it at the most perilous moment.”

Little Roc: “Why?”

The Emperor: “Because you may not withstand the price of a second use.”

The last time he departed, Li Jun had intended to reclaim the Blue Bird’s divine power granted to the Ximu Clan. But now he realized that mere sealing could not solve anything.

So this time, he did not reclaim the Blue Bird’s divine power from the shaman Little Roc. Instead, he revealed to her deeper secrets of the shaman’s power, guiding her to truly develop and wield the Blue Bird’s abilities.

At the same time, he also told Little Roc of the hidden dangers of using the Blue Bird’s power, and of the shaman’s ultimate fate.

The Emperor: “Remember—once you use their power, you will eventually be devoured by it.”

Yet in this moment, the shamaness was wholly immersed in the mysteries of the Blue Bird’s divine power and the true rites of sacrifice.

Little Roc was overjoyed, knowing only to bow in thanks.

The Ximu Clan’s settlement.

The entire clan gathered all their strength, rebuilding the altar as Little Roc commanded. Nearly all the clan’s jade was consumed in its making.

At its very center stood a jade bird like a Phoenix, exquisite and pure.

This time—

After the usual rites of worship, Little Roc did not kneel beneath the altar. Instead, she ascended it directly, seating herself at its heart.

She lifted the jade image of the Blue Bird and hung the Phoenix-like jade bird at her chest like an ornament.

In an instant, Little Roc felt her body vanish. Her consciousness faintly linked with another existence.

She felt that with but a thought, she could soar past the firmament above, and rend apart the earth below.

“With but one step…”

“The Blue Bird will descend upon me.”

At the critical moment, Little Roc recalled the Emperor’s words. She might only have one chance to use this power. She restrained the irresistible urge.

Yet the tribesmen around the altar, witnessing the sacrifice, faintly saw behind her a hazy phantom—a divine bird like a Phoenix spreading its wings.

Those wings seemed to sprout from her back, extending outward.

“The Emperor’s Blue Bird!”

“It is the Blue Bird!”

“Little Roc has summoned the Blue Bird!”

All knelt and cried aloud, endlessly worshipping the so-called Emperor’s Blue Bird.

At this moment—

Before them, Little Roc was no longer Little Roc. She had truly become the Emperor’s Blue Bird.

She was no longer a person, not even a shaman, but a vessel—a divine bird representing the Heavenly Emperor, bearer of the Emperor’s decrees.

And then, Little Roc faintly felt a figure approach her from behind.

That figure placed a hand upon her head.