Luo Hantian's heart sank. A bad premonition hit him like a weight in his chest.
Could this strange phenomenon be related to Song Wanníng?
After all, that girl was full of surprises. Nothing about her could ever be measured by ordinary standards. And now that he suddenly couldn't reach her, it was only natural that his thoughts ran wild.
It wasn't just him either. Leng Qingzhu and Liu Lanyi had both tried to contact her too, and every attempt ended the same way—no response at all.
When everyone realized they couldn't reach her, the panic started to spread.
Meanwhile, the person they were all worrying about was in the middle of a fierce battle with another stone man.
If she'd felt awkward at the start, she'd completely adapted now. She and the little ones had developed perfect teamwork. The moment the fight began, they fell into rhythm, striking together and sending the stone man reeling helplessly.
With one clean follow-up punch, she smashed its head to pieces.
Quick and decisive, without wasting a second.
At this breakneck pace, Song Wanníng pushed deeper and deeper into the darkness. The demonic aura around her grew so thick that even the light from the Shenyou Mystic Flame couldn't cut through it anymore.
She still didn't turn back. But as she went on, the gravity pressing down on her body grew heavier, slowing her steps more and more.
"Big Sister, the gravity here feels way stronger. Do you think the one behind all this might be nearby?"
Long Ling's voice trembled slightly. She'd noticed Song Wanníng slowing down, and worry filled her eyes. The heavier the pressure, the harder it was for Song Wanníng to move. If danger appeared now, reacting would be much tougher.
Their brief momentum had already begun to falter.
"You might be right. Everyone, stay alert."
Song Wanníng nodded slightly, her expression hardening. Her heartbeat grew faster and faster, completely out of her control.
Before long, another stone man appeared in her path. This time, the crushing gravity threw off her balance, forcing her to use far more strength than before just to defeat it. And yet, more stone men kept emerging one after another.
Even though she'd already perfected their attack pattern, she couldn't avoid injury. Her movements became sluggish, every step heavier than the last. By the end, even walking had become a struggle.
Her expression turned grim, but her eyes burned with determination. She forced herself to lift her foot, managing only an inch off the ground before dragging it forward with all her strength.
The little ones had lost their playful ease too. Even flying was difficult now.
Still, they kept quiet, refusing to add to her burden.
"Pff—!"
Suddenly, Song Wanníng coughed up a mouthful of blood. Her knees buckled, and she almost fell to the ground.
She gritted her teeth, forcing herself to stay upright. If she went down now, she might never stand up again. She steadied her legs and pushed forward with all her will.
The more something tried to stop her, the more she wanted to see what it was. Whatever dared to manipulate her like this, she was going to face it head-on.
That stubborn defiance was the only thing keeping her moving. Even if she could take only a few steps every half hour, she refused to give up.
After several days and nights, she finally stood before a tomb. Ghostly flames floated around it, flickering in the dark and casting eerie light over the gravestone.
Song Wanníng gasped for breath, drenched in sweat, but her gaze was sharp and clear. Her eyes shifted to the inscription on the tombstone, and her expression changed.
"The Tomb of Beloved Son Xuan Yan…"
Xuan Yan? That name jolted her heart.
"It couldn't be that Xuan Yan, could it?!"
Her pupils contracted sharply in shock.
She'd seen that name before—in an old travel record.
Xuan Yan was a legendary craftsman from ancient times. Not only was he gifted beyond measure, but he'd also reached the Mahayana stage at a young age. His talent in artifact forging was unparalleled, earning him recognition across the entire Cultivation Realm.
Countless people had begged him to forge treasures for them, even offering unimaginable prices.
But what truly made Xuan Yan famous was the miracle he created by accident—he forged an immortal artifact.
In the Immortal Realm, that might've been nothing special, but in the Cultivation Realm, it was practically impossible. Yet Xuan Yan had done it, becoming a legend known far and wide.
For a time, people from all over came to seek his craftsmanship, offering anything for just one creation.
But one day, the genius lost control.
Xuan Yan suddenly went mad, succumbing to inner demons and attacking his own sect.
To restore order, his sect had no choice but to hunt him down.
In the end, Xuan Yan died.
A once-brilliant genius fell, leaving only sighs and regret.
But his story never faded. Any cultivator who learned artifact forging had heard of Xuan Yan's name.
Having forged the Jing Hong Sword herself, Song Wanníng knew well how hard artifact refinement was. She'd admired Xuan Yan deeply, though she'd also pitied his fate. She'd never imagined that one day she'd be standing before his tomb.
"Maybe it's just someone with the same name."
Her gaze darkened slightly. It was possible, but in her heart, she already knew the truth.
This tomb likely belonged to that Xuan Yan. The stone men outside were proof enough. Still, without seeing the body, she couldn't be completely sure.
"Big Sister… what do we do now?"
Long Ling shrank back nervously. The moment the tomb appeared, fear washed over her.
The others felt the same, as though invisible eyes were staring straight through them.
Song Wanníng didn't answer. She didn't know either. She stared at the tomb in silence, deep in thought, when the ground suddenly shifted. A passageway opened right in front of her, leading straight into the tomb.
Her hair stood on end, every muscle tensing.
That dark passage looked like a gaping mouth, waiting to swallow her whole.
Her face turned grave. After a long pause, she finally made up her mind. She'd come this far—there was no reason to turn back.
Step by step, she entered the tomb.
The passage stretched far deeper than it looked. It didn't take long for her to realize that the tomb outside had been nothing but a decoy. The real tomb lay deep within. The further she went, the larger the space became, and the denser the demonic aura grew.
Rumble…
The gate behind her slammed shut, cutting off her retreat.
She turned to look, but all she could see was a writhing mass of demonic mist completely sealing the entrance. With no way back, her only choice was to move forward.
Unlike the darkness outside, the tomb's interior was brightly lit. The walls were embedded with colorful spirit stones that glowed faintly, beautiful yet functional.
The corridor twisted and turned endlessly, leading deeper and deeper until even the air felt thin. The faint sound of running water echoed around her.
Following the winding passage, she walked for nearly half an hour before finally arriving before a massive stone gate.
On the gate was a lifelike carving depicting a lone figure on the ground, holding a treasure aloft as lightning crashed down from the sky.
===
So, I hit a bit of a wall and I think I need a new story to freshen things up. Basically, I got a little bored translating one of my projects on Webnovel, True Heir of Chaos: From Villainess to Empress, so I decided to pick up another novel.
I was looking for something with 'historical' mixed with 'transmigration' and 'Fourth Calamity' vibes. I found this shorter one, I think it's around 100-150 chapters, called Summoning Players: From Magistrate to Monarch.
You can check it out on my AO3 profile if this blurb hooks you!
---
Lin Xi died, and then she got a promotion. Waking up in a new world, she's now the magistrate of a backwater county, a post awarded to her predecessor by a grateful emperor. The good news? She's skipped the peasant class entirely and landed a government job. The bad news? Her new county is poor, the roads are terrible, and the locals have a deep-seated distrust of anyone in power.
But Lin Xi has a theory: there are no bad citizens, only too many terrible officials. So, she rolls up her sleeves. She's planting crops, building bridges, and turning this forgotten place into a functioning society. She's doing such a great job that the one thing she never saw coming happens: the Imperial Court vanishes. The central government just... ceases to exist.
With no emperor, no chain of command, and no laws from the capital, what's a capable and ambitious local leader to do? For Lin Xi, the path is clear: if the old heaven has died, it's time for a new one to rise.
Meanwhile, in a modern world called Longguo, a hyper-realistic game titled From Magistrate to Monarch has become an overnight sensation. Gamers are desperate to play, but the chances of getting a spot are almost zero. The masses are left watching live streams, endlessly debating the game's ruthless AI. What they don't know is that the world is all too real, and the few lucky "players" who log in are about to have their own lives turned upside down, forever changing the fate of Lin Xi's rising domain.