Wandering Gods of Day and Night-Chapter 343 - 208: The Altar Shattered_2

After the blade penetrated, Lao Dao Bazi’s last thread of life force faded away.

"Poof!"

With a muffled sound, Lv Mingkun pulled out the knife, wiped the blood clean with a handkerchief, and said to Zhou Xuan: "Years of grudges—settled."

"Was it satisfying?"

"Not really," Lv Mingkun said with a bitter smile. "I’ve been thinking about revenge every day and night, but today I realized—I can barely remember what my third uncle looked like. It’s all a blur. I used to recall he had a mole by his ear, but now I’m not even sure.

Sigh, revenge is necessary, but if my third uncle could have remained alive, living beside me—that would’ve been the best ending."

"Indeed, staying alive is the best outcome. The lives of these dogs can’t bring back your uncle."

Zhou Xuan shared Lv Mingkun’s sentiment. Just like with the Suffering Scholar—no matter how gruesome the curator’s death was, Lin Xia and those Liao Ghosts could never return.

"Junior brother, the corpse is a sacrifice for your Blood Well; I’ll leave it to you. I’m heading back to the shop to rest."

Lv Mingkun patted Zhou Xuan’s shoulder, tugged his long robes, and left the cell, showing no joy or sorrow. After the revenge, it seemed the sharp air he had cultivated over years dissipated.

"I need to find something for Fifth Brother to focus on; his spirit has clearly declined."

Zhou Xuan shifted his focus to Lao Dao Bazi’s corpse, and the flesh and skin on the white plate.

Inside his Divine Revelation Secret Realm, the Black Water remained still. The Bai Gu Monk, who could assist him in entering the Blood Well, sat in meditation within the Black Water.

At the City God Taoist Temple within Fei Yue, the gates had opened. The eyes on the walls blinked furiously, swallowing Lao Dao Bazi’s blood and flesh, visibly diminishing.

When the eyes devoured his flesh and blood completely, snow began falling in the temple. On the two steles standing before the gate, blood-written words emerged.

On one stele: "Divination," and on the other: "God Sculpting."

"Hmm, the well has new tricks now?"

Lao Dao Bazi was the first sacrifice after the Blood Well fully merged with Divine Revelation.

Following the Blood Well’s consumption of the sacrifice, it offered Zhou Xuan two choices.

The choices weren’t difficult to understand—they were the Blood Well’s inquiry whether the sacrifice should be used for "Divination" or "God Sculpting."

"God Sculpting."

Without much hesitation, Zhou Xuan made his choice in his heart.

The Blood Well, as the strongest Alien Ghost in creation, didn’t need "Divination" as its ultimate skill.

Since "God Sculpting" was a new technique, naturally, Zhou Xuan wanted to see it in action.

Upon hearing Zhou Xuan’s answer, the snow within the City God Taoist Temple drifted towards the temple’s central Divine Platform.

The platform had been barren, resembling nothing more than a stone pedestal. When the snow fell upon it, a palm floated above the platform—besides this, nothing else.

"So that’s God Sculpting? Sculpting a palm?"

"Hey, Well, have you been taking bad lessons from Divine Revelation? Now you’re dabbling in artistic creations."

Whoosh!

The Divine Revelation Black Water, unable to tolerate Zhou Xuan’s sarcasm, rolled into waves and drenched him entirely, soaking him like a wet chicken.

"Divine Revelation is a bit petty," Zhou Xuan wiped his face dry, laughed, and left the Secret Realm.

Although he joked about it, deep down he firmly believed—the Blood Well was surely concocting something extraordinary.

After all, last time it re-engineered the "Divine Armor," and it worked incredibly well, complementing Zhou Xuan’s incense techniques perfectly.

"Later, after consuming the curator and the Suffering Scholar as sacrifices, I’ll test the effects of God Sculpting," Zhou Xuan thought, as he descended, heading to the courtyard of the Old Painting Pavilion. There were plenty of yellow-skinned creatures there, and through them, he could locate Huang Xi of the Huang Family.

Through the Huang Family, he could find "Hunger" and "Liu God."

...

The Blood Well’s full merger with Divine Revelation brought mixed emotions.

Zhou Xuan, naturally pleased, had new "God Sculpting" techniques at his disposal—even though he didn’t yet know their purpose.

The troubled one, however, was Jing Deng.

...

In the eastern corner of South Mountain Street stood a hill, known as "Ming Mountain."

The character "Ming" in its name suggested elegance, but during times of chaos and war, this hill became infamous within Mingjiang Prefecture as a Chaotic Burial Ground. The mountain’s interior was scattered with overgrown graves, and it was said that at night, one could hear the wailing cries of spirits and demons.

Ming Mountain harbored ghostly presence and few dared to enter, but in its deepest recesses sat a large temple.

This temple did not belong to Buddhism, Daoism, nor witchcraft. Inscribed on its entrance were three characters: "Blood Well Temple."

The temple contained no deity statues; instead, countless corpses were suspended from its beams.

The corpses’ hands were bound by iron chains hanging from the beams. Due to preservation treatment and years of exposure to harsh winds, their once fleshy forms had gained a jade-like texture.

Wind swept into the temple, causing the corpses to sway. When the bodies collided with one another, they emitted a crisp "ding-dang" sound.

The temple’s suspended corpses above—the ground below served as the altar.

The altar was circular, spanning dozens of meters in diameter. Its surface was carved by craftsmen with thousands of Otherworldly Alien Ghost Texts.

Ordinarily, believers would fill the altar with copious amounts of blood. freeωebnovēl.c૦m

The blood would submerge the altar, transforming it into a Blood Pool.

Today, however, was not such a sight.

At this moment, the Blood Pool stood dry, the Alien Ghost Texts at the altar’s base had mostly disappeared, and the remaining few were fading rapidly with time.

Dozens of believers huddled anxiously around the altar—especially the altar master, whose forehead dripped with sweat in distress.

"Pour more blood—do it, keep pouring!" The altar master commanded as believers dumped barrel after barrel into the altar, attempting to restore the appearance of the former Blood Pool.

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