The World of the Nine Prefectures
The undulating sand dunes were dyed bright red by the setting sun, extending to the end of the world. It made people understand why this place was called Red Prefecture.
Suddenly, a mirage appeared in the sky above the desert. There were only two colors, black and white, but it changed into a magnificent scene. It gave people the feeling that the boundless world was within it.
Nearly a thousand cultivators had gathered in this desolate and silent land, ranging from weak Qi Practitioners to powerful Golden Core cultivators. They were all looking up at the mirage in the sky, carefully guarding against each other.
Not long ago, the news that the Painting Tomb was about to open spread. It even included the exact time and location. It caused a storm among the disciples of the painters of the world, and they all rushed to this desolate desert.
There were also some cultivators who were not painters who wanted to try their luck. The Five Ultimate Graves valued luck more than anything else. They might be able to sneak into the Painting Tomb, and it would be worth it even if they took one or two artifacts.
However, it was also because of the widespread news that no one dared to act rashly. It was generally peaceful. As for whether there would be a bloody battle when the Painting Tomb truly opened, no one knew.
Suddenly, a sandstorm rose in the desert. The fine sand was like a fiery red fog, blurring the mirage in the sky.
A terrifying demonic aura instantly enveloped the desert. The cultivators looked back in fear. A hunchback elder suddenly appeared on the sand dunes in the east, staring at them indifferently.
"White Camel Sand King!" Someone immediately called out the elder's identity, causing even more panic.
"Leave the desert." White Camel Sand King's voice was low and hoarse. It was as merciless as the desert.
Someone tried to plead, "Senior, this concerns the heritage of the painters. Please give us some time. We will leave after the Painting Tomb opens! "
"Leave the desert!"
The sandstorm became more violent, covering the sky.
The sand dunes wriggled as if they had turned into giants. They were about to stand up and crush the fool who dared to wake them from their sweet dreams.
The cultivators were shocked. A Daemon King was not someone they could fight.
However, the mirage in the sky. Even though it was obscured by the sandstorm, it was getting clearer. It was as if it was close at hand.
The Painting Tomb was about to open.
Just when they did not know if they should retreat, a clear dragon roar resounded through the sky.
"Another Daemon Monarch?" The cultivators fell into despair.
The White Camel Sand King slowly raised his head, and a black dragon descended from the sky, landing below the mirage.
"Fellow Daoist White Camel. They didn't mean to offend you, so why are you bullying them? "
A slightly plump old man with a ruddy complexion shook his hand and unfurled a scroll painting. The dragon returned to the painting and continued to swim.
It turned out that this dragon with the strength of a Daemon King was actually just a painting. It reminded people of the Dragon King Of The Sea of the past.
In that case, what kind of existence would be able to wield such a painting?
"Grand Preceptor Dong!" The cultivators were pleasantly surprised. They hadn't expected that the opening of the Painting Tomb would actually attract this person. That was right. How could he not know such an important matter!
The Grand Preceptor was one of the three dukes, possessing an extremely great status in the imperial court of Great Xia. Even regular great cultivators had no right to hold the position. It had to be an existence that stood at the apex of this world.
The current grand preceptor was this old man with the surname Dong. He was also a painter, and it was said that he had collected "a hundred wondrous paintings". Every single one of them possessed startling power. Just Now, the Roving Dragon Painting was only one of them.
Just like how the schools of Buddhism and Daoism revered the Left and Right Imperial Advisors, the disciples of the School of Painting all revered the Grand Preceptor Dong.
The White Camel Sand King said nothing. There was only the howling of the sandstorm, and the sand dunes moved like waves. They surged towards the cultivators.
The Grand Preceptor Dong smiled and extended his hand to unfurl another painting. The painting was dripping with ink, and the bamboo forest was rustling, but they all bent over deeply. A gentle breeze blew through the painting, stopping the sandstorm and blowing away the sand dunes.
The painting was called the Bamboo Wind Painting. It was not a painting of bamboo, but wind!
The White Camel Sand King suddenly turned around and gazed into the distance. He frowned deeply, and as a result, he withdrew the sandstorm and descended the sand dunes.
Everyone let out a sigh of relief. They admired the Grand Preceptor Dong's methods even more. He could even force the White Camel Sand King into retreat.
A few young men and women followed behind the Grand Preceptor Dong. They all gave off a noble aura, and they all praised him.
"Master sure is impressive, using the light breeze to suppress the sandstorm. Even the White Camel Sand King was helpless against him. All he could do was retreat."
"Master is a mighty grand preceptor. Becoming enemies with master is becoming enemies with Great Xia. He only retreated when master took action. The White Camel Sand King sure is stubborn, just like the rumors."
As for the others, they did not even have the right to praise him. They went up and clasped their hands in thanks.
The Grand Preceptor Dong stroked his beard gently and said modestly, "We've all been conferred by Great Xia, so we can be regarded as subjects of the same court. Our statuses are about the same. He's just doing me a favor."
"Master resides in the center of the Dragon province. The White Camel Sand King is just a Daemon King. I heard he's even colluding with the rebel Banyan Tree King. How can they be mentioned in the same breath?" said an arrogant young man. He had already undergone the second heavenly tribulation, so he had the right to be arrogant.
"Don't speak nonsense! This is his territory after all. If you piss him off, it'll be no good for anyone. "
The Grand Preceptor Dong reprimanded him, but he did not stop smiling.
At this moment, the mirage in the sky became clearer and clearer. It conjured mountains, rivers, people, flowers, birds, fish, and insects. It was the wondrous art of the school of Painting. Even the Grand Preceptor Dong sighed in amazement when he saw it. The Five Absolutes Immortal truly was an astonishing figure. He could actually use the path of painting to such a degree. If he could enter and see what it was like, it would definitely benefit his cultivation greatly.
"Master, the Painting Tomb is about to open. What do we do with these people?" The arrogant young man pointed casually. His face was filled with disdain, as if he was looking at a group of ignorant dogs.
"Grand preceptor, we'll leave right now!" someone said in a hurry, being sensible.
"The opening of the Painting Tomb is a grand occasion for us painters. Everyone has come from far away, so how can I just chase everyone away like this? Whether or not you can enter the Painting Tomb will completely depend on your luck. It doesn't depend on your status, so there's no harm in waiting a little longer. However, those who are not of the school of Painting should leave! "
The Grand Preceptor Dong waved his hand, and nearly a hundred cultivators hurriedly dispersed. The ones left behind were the disciples of the school of Painting. They all praised the Grand Preceptor Dong's magnanimity, and only hoped that they could be the lucky ones to enter the Painting Tomb.
The Grand Preceptor Dong smiled faintly. Not many people knew that this news had been spread by him in the first place. His goal was to gather the disciples of the school of Painting and prepare to establish a large sect similar to the Spirit Kingdom Temple. They could be the patriarch of a family and also the sect master of a sect.
With the world in such turmoil and the Great Xia Dynasty on the verge of collapse, just the position of the Grand Preceptor was no longer secure enough.
And when the Painting Tomb opened, who would be able to compete with him?
In order to obtain this news from Prince Si Qing, he had sacrificed a wondrous painting. He would definitely not allow others to encroach upon it. However, that Chu Danqing who possessed the Jade Blood of Vermillion Painting had not come. Presumably, without the support of that freak, Li Qingshan, he did not dare to come!
As he pondered, his gaze focused. A white figure was standing on the sand dune where the White Camel Sand King had left. She wore a moon-white monk's robe that fluttered in the night wind, yet she had long hair that reached the ground. Even though her face was expressionless, she still caused others to sigh in admiration. Yet, there was a pair of terrifying eyes embedded within.
If one were to say that the White Camel Sand King was like this desert, there was still vitality and hope beneath his indifferent appearance. Countless beings lived in the desert, and underground rivers surged beneath the sand dune, ready to transform into an oasis at any time. He had also acted as a guide countless times, giving people hope amidst the storm.
Yet, her eyes were empty. Not to mention this desert, even the Hungry Ghost Realm, where only the dead existed, appeared excessively noisy in her eyes. There was too much pointless greed, resentment, and hope, and she would use great mercy to bestow great destruction.
The Grand Preceptor Dong actually did not know when she had arrived. Even though he had seen her with his own eyes, he could not sense any aura. Yet, he suddenly thought of a term — Foe of Buddha!
His expression changed greatly, and he immediately understood why the White Camel Sand King had retreated. However, he was absolutely unwilling to retreat just like that. He opened his mouth and said, "Fellow Daoist, are you …"
Before he had finished speaking, her figure had vanished, and a voice that was devoid of sorrow and joy rang out beside his ear, "Yes."
The Grand Preceptor Dong immediately felt that he could not move, and it was difficult for him to circulate his magic power. Yet that beautiful face was already within reach, and the white bone sword pierced straight for his chest.
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