Chapter Sixty-Two: Beirut

Upon seeing Qiankun, Hisai, O'Brien, and Dylin all showed him respect, quickly bowing and greeting, "Lord Qiankun!" The High Priest, however, merely cast a sideways glance at Qiankun, clearly disinclined to acknowledge him.

With a smile, Qiankun approached Catherine, about to tease her when—

"Enough, there will be plenty of time for idle chatter later. Come quickly," a hoarse, aged voice suddenly rang in their ears. They recognized it instantly as Beirut, the Lord of the Yulan Plane, and dared not delay. At once, they quickened their pace, transforming into five streams of light and flying into the depths of the Dark Forest.

Soon, the five reached the very heart of the Dark Forest, where a pitch-black metallic castle emerged before their eyes. It was a castle formed from living metal, imbued with its own intelligence, and would actively attack intruders. However, the five had been summoned by Beirut himself and thus encountered no obstacles as they entered the castle.

Setting foot inside for the first time, Qiankun couldn’t help but curiously observe his surroundings. The castle’s interior was arranged with remarkable taste; every metallic wall could change color, and the floor was a glossy, purplish-red metal so smooth it reflected their images. Some of the metal was shaped into artificial hills, and the gardens were filled with all kinds of flowers—real ones, not creations of the castle itself.

In silence, the group entered the castle’s main hall, where they saw an elderly man in a simple black robe, his long black hair loose and his beard reaching his chest, seated on a metallic recliner, head lowered as he read a book.

"Lord Beirut!" The War God, the High Priest, Dylin, and Hisai all bowed respectfully, as did Qiankun, following their example.

Beirut looked up. His small eyes sparkled with the brilliance of stars, and a faint smile played about his lips. He cast an indifferent glance at the four, but his gaze lingered briefly on Qiankun. "You should have some idea why I summoned you here today, shouldn’t you?"

"Lord Beirut, you must have gathered us to open the Necropolis of the Gods, yes?" the War God asked first.

Beirut nodded slightly and, without looking up from his book, said, "War God, High Priest, you two know best the situation regarding the Necropolis. Tell Dylin, Hisai, and Qiankun about it."

"More than five thousand years ago, mighty beings from other planes descended here, many of them gods—some even upper gods. They waged war across the Yulan Plane. In the end, aside from a few who managed to leave, nearly all perished. Thus, the Necropolis of the Gods came into being, filled with the corpses of deities, divine sparks, and relics," the War God explained. "Lord Beirut manages the Necropolis, which opens once every millennium. All Saint-level and god-level experts can enter and try their luck. If fortune favors them, they might obtain divine sparks, artifacts, and other treasures."

The High Priest continued, "There are three passages to the Necropolis. One is within the Dark Forest, one among the pirates of the Northern Sea, and the third lies deep beneath the Southern Sea. Each passage leads to a different necropolis, each with its own dangers and treasures of varying value."

"This time," the War God said gravely, "we are to enter the necropolis beneath the Southern Sea—the most perilous of the three." Clearly, he was well aware of the dangers that awaited them.

After the War God and High Priest had finished, Beirut spoke again. "Now that you understand the situation, make your preparations. The Necropolis of the Gods will open on the second of March, the year after next. War God, High Priest, Dylin, Hisai—you may leave. Qiankun, stay behind."

"Yes!" the four answered respectfully and withdrew from the metallic castle.

Left alone, Qiankun felt uneasy under Beirut’s gaze. Why had Beirut singled him out?

"Don’t be nervous, Qiankun," Beirut said with a smile. "By fate, we are quite well-acquainted. That miniature plane where you secluded yourself for cultivation—I created it ages ago for my own training. I’ve known all along that you became a god there and refined several divine clones. I must say, your talent is truly frightening. You are so adept at so many laws, and your cultivation speed amazes even an old monster like me. The Yulan Plane has gained a true prodigy."

Qiankun couldn’t help but give a bitter, self-mocking smile. He had thought he had kept a low profile, but Beirut was a Sovereign. No matter where he hid, even in a miniature plane or drifting through the chaotic space beyond Yulan, Beirut could still observe him. Concealing anything from Beirut was simply impossible.

"But what intrigues me most is your origin," Beirut continued, fixing Qiankun with a meaningful look. "If I’m not mistaken, you’re not native to the Yulan Plane, are you?"

Qiankun’s heart clenched at the question. After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded resolutely. "That’s right. I am not a native of the Yulan Plane."

"Oh? Then where do you come from, and why did you come to this plane?" Beirut asked in an even tone.

Qiankun was silent for a while before speaking, his brow furrowed in pain. "To tell you the truth, Lord Beirut, I do not know my origin. It seems I slept for countless ages, deep within the Magical Beast Mountains. When I awakened, I had no memory of the past. I remembered only my name, and I could sense that my soul was unusually strong. As for the rest, I truly know nothing."

"Your soul is indeed extraordinarily powerful, containing a unique force," Beirut said after a long silence. Qiankun wondered nervously whether Beirut believed his story, but Beirut finally continued, "Your situation is unlike anything I have ever seen or heard of. But don’t dwell on it. My curiosity is all. Perhaps it is because of your extraordinary soul that you have such talent for cultivation. Qiankun, continue your training. I believe you will achieve great things. When the time comes, I may grant you a great opportunity."

A great opportunity? Qiankun felt a surge of relief, but couldn’t help feeling uneasy. Did Beirut intend for him to inherit a Sovereign spark and become a candidate for Sovereign? Perhaps that was his plan now, but once Linley awakened his four-element mutated soul and achieved perfection, Beirut might not think so anymore.

Truth be told, Qiankun was curious about the Sovereign spark and wished to study it, but did not covet it. Sovereigns were mighty because of the spark’s power, but they were also bound by it, forever unable to reach true transcendence. Even if one fused all the profound mysteries of the elements and reached perfection, the increase in strength was limited, and further progress was impossible.

"Very well, prepare yourself. This journey to the Necropolis will be a trial for you, and may even accelerate your cultivation," Beirut said, then added, "Remember this, Qiankun: each law contains many profound mysteries, and the mysteries of the same law can be fused together. Among upper gods, the more mysteries you fuse, the stronger you become. If you wish to be truly powerful, you should begin fusing mysteries from the start, not just rush to become an upper god."

"Thank you for your guidance, Lord Beirut. I will remember it," Qiankun replied respectfully, then left the metallic castle.

Watching Qiankun depart, Beirut narrowed his eyes and muttered to himself, "Just what is this boy’s origin? Is he truly telling the truth? His soul is certainly unique, terrifyingly strong. Well, time will tell. Eventually, no secret can remain hidden forever."