Chapter 1780 — A Thread from Olden Times
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 2 of 4
" Shen Mu spent the last of his strength dragging Tai Yi's coffin aboard, then lay on the deck gasping, utterly exhausted. He closed his eyes and slowly sank into a dream. Countless tiny Shen Mus burrowed in and out of the wounds on his body, exchanging maha-maha and jigu-jigu, studying the scars of the Dao-wounds, deducing the divine arts and principles of the Dao concealed within them.
Before long, a deeper layer of dream unfurled, and many more tiny Shen Mus emerged, axes and chisels in hand. Unlike the others, these tiny Shen Mus were of flesh and blood, transmuted, unmistakably, from Shen Mu's Great Dao and his Hongmeng primal qi.
Each Shen Mu was like the most diligent worker bee or ant, swarming about Shen Mu's wounds, hammering and chipping, using his own Dao arts and divine powers to refine and erase the Dao-wounds.
The other tiny Shen Mus eyed these new companions with curiosity and asked one after another, "Maha maha?
" "Guji guji? " Those new-formed companions wore solemn faces and paid them little heed, only snapping back when their patience ran out: "Aba, aba!
" The other tiny Shen Mus widened their eyes, looking as though they understood perfectly, when in truth they had understood nothing at all.
There were still other tiny Shen Mus dressed as alchemists, some carrying medicine chests, some with herb baskets on their backs, some holding pill furnaces in their palms, diligently patching and mending the wounds where the Dao-harm was being refined away. Those tiny Shen Mus swarmed up again to ask their questions, only to be poisoned by the alchemist Shen Mus, foaming at the mouth and twitching one after another.
The other Shen Mus pointed at them and roared with laughter, gloating: "Aba! " When Shen Mu was about to wake from the great dream, the tiny Shen Mus hurried one by one to burrow into his brain and vanished in succession.
Shen Mu stretched his limbs.
He felt refreshed from the sleep, and the Dao-wounds on his body had vanished.
He rose and examined Tai Yi's coffin once more, only to find that Lan Yutian still had not emerged from the golden hall.
"Sworn Brother really has gotten himself lost, it seems.
" During the time he had dreamed and healed, the World-Crossing Golden Ship had traveled for more than ten days, drifting toward the Ancestral Court, and was already quite close to it.
Shen Mu frowned slightly.
The golden ship moved according to his will, away from the Yuan Realm and toward the Ancestral Court. In his sleep, the world of his dreams was strange and magnificent, and his thoughts, unchecked, galloped and wandered at will; the ship had therefore chosen the direction of his deepest yearning. "I wonder whether those root-tendrils of Palace Lord Changfeng's will become a hidden danger.
" A measure of unease stirred in his heart.
He should have stayed, and once his wounds healed, wiped out every last root-tendril of Palace Lord Changfeng, to ensure there would be no future trouble. But the golden ship had already come this far; hurrying back would be too late.
Truly, as the ship's course showed, his worry over the Ancestral Court weighed heavier in his heart. "Palace Lord Changfeng's root-tendrils were gravely wounded by the Dao-Burying Divine Coffin.
Every tendril bears the Dao-wound it left behind, and he lacks my insight and vision; he cannot erase those wounds. The problem should not be great.
" Shen Mu was still somewhat weak. Twice he had clashed head-on with beings at the palace lord level, draining much of his cultivation, and cultivation was not something a dream could restore.
He rested a while, then stirred his mind, and one by one the golden halls aboard the ship vanished of themselves. They vanished slowly, for Shen Mu left Lan Yutian ample time to run from one hall to the next.