Chapter 1260: The Death Battle at the Divine Altar

Chapter 1259: The Death Battle at the Divine Altar

Struck by the Vermilion Bird’s arrow yet not dead, the black vulture elder—his body ruined but his resolve unbroken—looked up toward the divine altar with yearning in his eyes. Amidst the burning Vermilion flames, he crawled step by step toward the summit.

“Kill him! Do not let him complete the divine descent!” roared Great Chieftain Dan Lie.

That single arrow had already drained most of his cultivation.

Though his tone remained steady, there was unmistakable weakness… and fear within it: fear of the Descent of the Vulture Deity.

Lu-Gu and the other great chieftains knew how dire the situation was. If the Vulture Deity truly descended, their cause would be utterly lost.

Yet, though they possessed late Golden Core cultivation, their Divine-Sense was ordinary. They could not withstand the Vermilion Bird’s fire and thus could not step onto the altar. Besides, they were typical barbarian body cultivators—formidable in close combat but nearly helpless at range.

Their few ranged techniques could deal with low-ranked Golden Cores, but trying to strike the Wujiao Tribe’s young master or his Shaman underlings was nothing but wishful thinking.

At that moment, Flame Shaman Yan-Zhu stepped forward and said:

“Everyone, assist me in ascending the divine altar.”

Throughout this altar war, though Yan-Zhu was one of the Royal Court’s senior Shamans, he had yet to take major action—he had been conserving his strength.

Physical combat among Golden Core cultivators was not a Shaman’s domain.

Their true battlefield was upon the Divine Altar.

Azure Shaman Qing-Zhu also stepped forth. “Let us go and slay that black vulture elder, to stop the divine descent.”

(TN: Previously translated as Verdant Shaman, will be changing it to Azure Shaman, as he practices Qingqiu (Azure Hill) Divine Dao)

Great Chieftain Dan Lie clasped his hands solemnly. “I entrust this to the two of you.”

Flame Shaman Yan-Zhu said nothing more; he transformed into a streak of firelight and flew toward the altar.

Surrounded by pure radiance, Azure Shaman Qing-Zhu followed close behind.

As their escape lights streaked midway up, the Wujiao Tribe’s young master sneered, “Courting death.” Activating the Dragon Runes, he unleashed a sea of black power toward them. His generals also rushed in to encircle.

Dan Lie, Lu-Gu, and the other chieftains engaged those generals head-on, desperately buying time for the two Shamans to ascend.

Hundreds of exchanges passed with neither side gaining the upper hand.

Seeing the black vulture elder climbing ever higher, Flame Shaman Yan-Zhu decided to hold nothing back.

Murderous intent flashed in his eyes as he invoked his Divine-Sense Shamanic Art, pressing his fingers together and pointing between the eyes of one Wujiao general in an instant too short to blink.

It was the same move he had once used against Mo Hua.

The struck Wujiao general felt a searing pain. His Sea of Consciousness boiled like fire.

Against the late Foundation Establishment Mo Hua, that move had done little.

But against a late Golden Core Wujiao general, its power was devastating—especially here, amid the Vermilion Bird’s flames.

Though the flames on the plaza were weaker than those upon the altar, their might was still terrifying.

Yan-Zhu’s attack shattered the general’s Divine-Sense defense; the Vermilion Fire invaded his mind. Two flames of kindred origin merged and amplified, annihilating his consciousness.

The general fell to his knees, clutching his head as fire poured from his orifices… dead.

Flame Shaman Yan-Zhu had slain one with a single strike.

Not to be outdone, Azure Shaman Qing-Zhu also made her move.

Her robed figure became enticingly graceful, captivating all eyes.

Her face shimmered with change, faintly revealing a fox-like shadow; her beauty grew ever more alluring, her eyes shining with a faint pink glow.

To meet those eyes was to be devoured by desire.

The Wujiao generals sensed the danger and dared not look—yet desire is born of the heart. Having seen her graceful form, who could resist glancing at her face?

One general, known for his lust, finally succumbed.

He looked—and their eyes met.

Those eyes were bewitching beyond words, overflowing with affection and carnal promise.

The man’s body trembled, burning with lust; his Divine-Sense was drawn from his Sea of Consciousness into Qing-Zhu’s eyes.

When the will became weakened, the surrounding Vermilion flames seize the chance to invade.

He staggered forward, reaching to touch her—yet before he could, his Sea of Consciousness was consumed by Qingqiu Desire Fire and Vermilion Divine Fire together.

He collapsed, dying with a face still full of longing.

Two generals had fallen in the blink of an eye.

The Wujiao young chieftain’s face turned ashen.

Seizing the moment, Yan-Zhu and Qing-Zhu ascended the divine altar.

To step upon the altar was to enter a forbidden zone of the mortal realm—a death ground for those of flesh and blood.

But to the Shamans, followers of the gods and masters of divine rites, this was their domain.

Only they could decide the outcome of what was to follow.

No matter how strong a mortal cultivator’s body or bloodline, they could not touch the realm of gods.

Yan-Zhu and Qing-Zhu reached the summit without pause, charging directly toward the black vulture elder.

Slaying him would halt the Vulture Deity’s descent—and crush the Wujiao Tribe’s ambitions once and for all.

Thus, neither hesitated; they unleashed their full might.

Yan-Zhu’s entire body flared with fiery runes, his Divine-Sense surging like a storm of blazing flames.

Qing-Zhu’s gaze rippled with charm, her Divine-Sense weaving desire like silken threads.

One attacked, the other enticed.

Together, they struck.

The black vulture elder’s face darkened. He knew the outcome of this battle would decide everything.

If he won, the altar would ignite, and the Vulture Deity would descend—his purpose achieved.

If he lost, all would turn to ash.

There was no retreat.

He roared skyward, his cry shrill like a vulture’s wail. His features warped—eye sockets blackened, his nose hooked, his visage half-man, half-vulture.

His flesh rotted, his life force draining rapidly.

In exchange, his Divine-Sense power surged ever higher—he was burning his life to bear more of the Vulture Deity’s might for one final fight.

Yan-Zhu and Qing-Zhu dared not underestimate him. They too pushed their divine arts to the utmost.

Three late-stage Golden Core Shamans, each of Upper Shaman rank, clashed upon that ancient altar in a ferocious battle to the death.

Yan-Zhu’s Divine-Sense—of the Great Wilderness Court’s Luminous flame Divine Dao—could incinerate others’ consciousness.

Qing-Zhu’s Divine-Sense, of the Qingqiu (Azure Hill) Divine Dao, bewitched minds and drew out souls.

The black vulture elder’s, borrowed from the Vulture Deity, carried death and decay, corroding all it touched like venom.

Though they fought with bodies and arts, the true killing force lay within the unseen realm of Divine-Sense.

That unseen battleground was the most perilous—one misstep could shatter the Sea of Consciousness, ending in the death of both mind and Dao.

All the while, Vermilion Divine Fire blazed around them.

Their duel atop the altar was like dancing upon a cliff’s edge—each move deadly, each breath perilous.

Below, the chieftains and generals could only watch in awe and dread, unable to intervene.

The victor among these Shamans would determine the fate of the entire war.

The battle was savage and bloody beyond measure.

But eventually, the black vulture elder fell into disadvantage.

Though once the strongest in cultivation and Divine-Sense, he had been gravely wounded by Dan Lie’s arrow. Now, outnumbered two to one, burning his life to channel divine power, he could not hold out.

In the high-intensity clash, he finally showed an opening—Yan-Zhu’s Luminous flame Divine-Sense struck, wounding his Sea of Consciousness.

Then Qing-Zhu’s eyes ensnared his desires.

Desire clouded reason. For a moment, he lost control… fatal in such a fight.

Qing-Zhu bound his will with her charm, ready to coordinate with Yan-Zhu for the killing blow.

But turning, she saw that Yan-Zhu had not struck.

Instead, while she and the elder were entangled, both unable to move freely, Yan-Zhu took the chance to climb higher up the altar alone.

Qing-Zhu instantly realized his intent, rage filled her heart.

“Traitor!” she cursed.

Yan-Zhu only sneered, ignoring her. Concentrating his Divine-Sense, he endured the Vermilion Fire, step by step ascending toward the summit.

His gaze fixed solely on the Vermilion Bird statue, and the golden divine throne beneath it.

Furious, Qing-Zhu’s bewitching aura faltered slightly.

The black vulture elder regained some clarity. Looking at her, he rasped, “Release me. I’ll stop him.”

Qing-Zhu hesitated. She did not wish to help another seize the glory. But seeing Yan-Zhu nearing the summit, she gritted her teeth and dissolved her binding threads.

The elder’s desires vanished; his mind cleared. Without hesitation, he unfolded black wings to shield himself and rushed toward Yan-Zhu.

Qing-Zhu’s eyes turned cold, and she too pursued.

But they had already lost precious time.

Taking advantage of that delay, Yan-Zhu climbed ever higher.

Before the two could reach him, he had already ascended to the top—past the final steps, standing upon the highest point of the altar.

Before him loomed the Vermilion Bird statue, lifelike and burning with flowing fire.

The golden divine throne radiated ancient majesty, only a few steps away.

The Vermilion Bird’s beak held a golden ring, beneath which grew a golden tree; at the tree’s base sat an empty golden basin.

An ordinary offering plate held sacrifices.

But this golden basin was different… it held the “Divine Token.”

Placing a god’s token into it would ignite the Vermilion Bird statue and summon the descent of the Divine Dao.

Among Shamans, this was considered a secret doctrine.

Yan Zhu began walking toward the golden basin—but after only two steps, his gaze was completely drawn to the distant throne.

“That’s the Divine Throne… it’s said that only the true gods, or their incarnations, may sit upon it…”

“I am a Shaman…”

“I worship the gods, I…”

“I… can…”

Yan Zhu’s eyes reddened; ambition flooded his heart, boiling his blood and stirring every vein in his body.

Almost uncontrollably, he moved toward the throne.

But after just two steps—still nine zhang away—a thunderous crack split the air, like divine wrath roaring from the heavens. The might of the gods descended, crushing and dreadful, shattering his soul.

Yan Zhu collapsed to his knees, trembling all over, not daring to lift his head.

His ambition froze with his blood, turning to ice.

In that instant, he felt himself to be nothing more than an ant, a wretched maggot—audacious beyond measure, daring to covet a god’s throne. A sin worthy of annihilation.

“I deserve death… I deserve death… I deserve death…”

Under divine terror, even his will to live began to die.

At that moment, the flame-runes on his body flickered, the God of Luminous flame whom he worshipped had instinctively shielded him, lessening the pressure of divine might.

His heart slowly revived.

“Yes… that’s right… I must believe in my god. I must walk my own path. I cannot betray my faith. Only faith can save me…” Yan Zhu murmured.

Struggling, he rose again. This time, he dared not look at the throne, but turned toward the golden basin beneath the Vermilion Bird’s ring.

He would place his divine token there.

The Wujiao Tribe sought to use the Vermilion Bird Altar to summon the descent of the Great Vulture God.

Yan Zhu, as a Shaman of the Luminous flame Divine Dao, wished just as fervently to bring his own god into the world of the Great Wilderness.

Otherwise, he would never have cared about the fate of Vermilion Bird Mountain realm, he would merely have aided the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe a little, winning the favor of Dan Ling, that “precious jade,” to later force her into repaying him.

But in the end, it was all for his god… for his Dao.

Still haunted by the divine wrath he had nearly provoked, Yan Zhu trembled as he walked toward the Vermilion Bird statue. With fear and reverence, he clawed open his own chest and pulled out a crimson, flame-flowing crystal.

Luminous flame Spirit Gem.

This was his Divine Token, the sacred object of his faith.

With bloodied hands, Yan Zhu sought to place the gem into the golden basin as the “seed of fire” to ignite the divine flame.

But just then, a black wind roared forth, reeking of decay.

Yan Zhu clutched the gem to his chest, rolled across the ground to dodge the blast, and when he looked up…

The Black Vulture Elder stood before him, face dark as stormclouds.

Yan Zhu cursed inwardly.

If he had not hesitated before, if he had offered the divine token right away, he could already have ignited the Vermilion Bird’s flame and summoned the God of Luminous flame to Vermilion Bird Mountain. But his arrogance and greed had delayed him, and now the Black Vulture Elder had caught up.

A flash of movement… a graceful shadow descended. The Azure Shaman Qing-Zhu appeared atop the altar as well.

Seeing Yan Zhu, her eyes filled with anger. “You vile wretch—how dare you call yourself a Shaman?”

Yan Zhu sneered. “Everything I do is for my god. What’s vile about that?”

Her eyes grew colder—but in the next instant, they softened, shimmering with tender charm. Yan Zhu’s heart lurched—his mind stirred with unwanted desire. Realizing her trick, he snarled inwardly:

“That wretched woman!”

But once lust stirred, reason faltered.

At that moment, the Black Vulture Elder struck—his fingers like talons, imbued with venomous spiritual force, slashing toward Yan Zhu.

Yan Zhu gritted his teeth and met the attack head-on.

They fought dozens of rounds before Yan Zhu realized something was wrong—he was being driven back. Glancing aside, he saw that the graceful Qing-Zhu now stood beneath the Vermilion Bird’s golden tree.

She had cut a lock of her hair—the strands from her Baihui point glowing faintly—and was placing it into the golden basin.

Qingqiu’s Hair.

Her own Divine Token.

Furious, Yan Zhu roared, “You wretched woman! Aren’t you after the same thing?!”

He and the Black Vulture Elder both halted their fight and joined forces against her.

Her ritual was interrupted. Cursing under her breath, she defended herself as best she could.

Yan Zhu and the Qing-Zhu hated each other’s deceit, and their clashes grew ever more savage.

Yet in the chaos, they suddenly realized, the Black Vulture Elder was gone. Looking over, they saw him before the golden tree, gouging out his remaining eye to offer it upon the golden basin.

Vulture’s Eye.

His own Divine Token… the key to summoning the Great Vulture God.

Yan Zhu and the Qing-Zhu broke into a cold sweat. They immediately stopped fighting each other and turned on the elder again.

For of all gods, the one who must never descend was the Great Vulture Deity.

If he did, it would mean the end of the Vermilion Bird Mountain tribes.

The Black Vulture elder’s ritual, too, was interrupted. Forced to abandon it, he turned and fought the two again.

Thus, the three most powerful Shamans were locked in a desperate struggle—chaotic beyond measure.

Each sought to place their own Divine Token upon the altar while destroying the others’. The Luminous flame Spirit Gem that Yan Zhu managed to set down was instantly slapped aside by the Qing-Zhu.

While he scrambled to retrieve it, she placed her Qingqiu’s Hair into the basin—only for a black wind to rise and blow it away.

She went to recover it, and the Black Vulture Elder took the chance to lay down his Vulture’s Eye.

By then Yan Zhu had returned, gem in hand, and hurled himself back into the fight.

And so it went on and on.

Upon that sacred altar, the three high Shamans abandoned all dignity and restraint, fighting like madmen—each trying to summon their own god, while preventing the others from doing the same.

Every clash was brutal and desperate.

Every exchange could determine the outcome of the war—the fate of the entire Vermilion Bird Mountain Realm.

Below the altar, the warriors of all tribes watched with taut nerves and trembling hearts, barely able to breathe as the struggle dragged on.

At last, Yan Zhu, the Qing-Zhu, and the Black Vulture Elder were utterly spent.

Their spiritual power was exhausted, their bodies broken, even their minds nearly burned away by the Vermilion Bird’s sacred flames.

Their Divine Dao Tokens lay scattered upon the ground.

And the three themselves, drained of all strength, could no longer even lift a finger.

Mutual ruin.

The once-frenzied altar fell into deathly silence.

The three fallen Shamans, drained and trembling, barely clung to life beneath the Vermilion Bird’s fire, could not move.

No one else could ascend the altar.

Then, amid that deathly stillness—before countless eyes—on the towering altar, a frail, slender silhouette quietly appeared…

Translate Notes:

青 (qīng) can mean blue, green, or azure. I translated as Verdant Shaman because in previous chapter it was mentioned that she wears a green dress.

(End of this Chapter)