Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Stone Coffin

Why had the ancient stone coffin been concealed within an illusion by the Maya? Who, truly, was interred within its depths? The mysterious eye carved upon the lid—this was the second time Guan Qian had encountered its likeness since his arrival in this wasteland. The familiar shock stirred his mind, leaving his thoughts restless and unsettled. Could there exist some connection between the Maya and the Prophets?

Such a daring conjecture pushed the boundaries of Guan Qian’s imagination.

Beneath the enigmatic eye, ancient oracle bone script had been etched—characters that belonged solely to the archaic civilization of China, forming the unshakeable foundation of its culture. Yet now, these mysterious glyphs had somehow traveled with the Maya to this desolate land and survived through generations.

The script, woven in intricate and varied forms, radiated a natural, grand spirit. But it was these terse, powerful words that froze Guan Qian in place, forcing him to stand beside the coffin, unmoving.

“Life—the greatest miracle of all! Boundless potential, endless evolution!”

“Jue! Nie! Chu! Man—the spirit of all things, transcending all, eternal and unending!”

“Gene lock! The transcendent medium, inherent in primate life, the innate condition for evolution. Unlock the gene lock, and nothing shall be impossible; all the universe will bow to your command!”

“Prophet, one form of gene lock evolution—the strongest human system! Coexists with Jue, Nie, and Chu.”

“My Jue, searching for millennia, from the heights of heaven to the depths of the cosmos, yet finding only false men—how tragic!”

“Man! Where to seek—where to seek!”

Guan Qian murmured, the mysterious oracle script struck his heart like the toll of a great bell. So much was hidden in these brief words that he felt utterly bewildered.

As the script declared, it was likely that a powerful being named Jue had inscribed these words. The coffin, perhaps, held none other than Jue’s own remains.

Judging by the reverence shown to the coffin, this being must have held immense significance for the Maya; it would not have been hidden in an illusion otherwise.

Between the lines, Jue seemed intimately familiar with the Prophets. Prophets evolved from humans, and the process was explained through the unlocking of the gene lock.

Could it be that his own evolution was tied to unlocking the Prophet gene lock within himself? From the initial awakening, the subtle consciousness, to the formidable power of the Prophet’s White Eye, Guan Qian’s own condition had steadily grown stronger and more refined. This reinforced his suspicion.

Thus, the evolution of the Prophet was indeed the gradual unlocking of the gene lock within, allowing the Prophet to become stronger, ultimately reaching perfect evolution—a transcendent existence, master of all things.

Yet the Prophet was only one among the powerful beings; Jue, Nie, and Chu stood alongside, equally mighty.

Savoring Jue’s words further, Guan Qian felt his nerves stretched to breaking.

Prophets were powerful, but Jue seemed to have spent ages searching for humanity, only to be met with disappointment.

“False men? Could they mean the Maya?” Guan Qian’s lips parted slightly, his brows furrowing.

Why would the enigmatic Jue seek humanity? What tragedy befell him in the end? Did he lead the Maya away from Earth?

Could this powerful Jue be the deity the Maya worshipped?

Then who was the “Heavenly God”?

His own ancestors, the first Prophet, had their gene lock awakened by this so-called “Heavenly God,” giving birth to the line of Prophets.

Could the “Heavenly God” be one of the other two mighty beings?

In that ancient past, what role did humanity play, to draw Jue’s search and inspire the emergence of Prophets?

Was there a deadly enmity among the three powerful beings besides the human Prophets, prompting them to seek an alliance with humanity to destroy one another?

And where did the enigmatic False Prophet belong? Or was the False Prophet an agent seeking humanity’s destruction, manipulated by one of these powers?

The mysterious oracle script gripped Guan Qian’s gaze, holding it fast. His eerie White Eye flickered as he stared.

“Jue, Nie, Chu—these beings equal to Prophets, what are they truly? What does the mysterious stone-carved eye signify?” Guan Qian’s thoughts churned. He stared fervently at the coffin, longing to pierce its secrets with his White Eye, but the coffin seemed eternal, shrouding his sight in confusion.

Finally, Guan Qian resolved to open the coffin, yearning to confront the mystery of Jue, even at the risk of sacrilege.

In the darkness, Guan Qian gripped the lid with both hands, summoning all his strength to push the heavy stone.

A deep, grating sound echoed as the lid shifted, revealing a narrow gap.

Within, there was only silence—no hint of danger, nothing but empty deathly stillness.

Guan Qian knew with certainty that something lay inside, most likely the remains of Jue. This powerful entity must be linked to him, for his blood surged and his mind felt a fierce stimulus of consciousness.

With another sustained, heavy sound, Guan Qian finally pried open a corner of the coffin.

He peered within. Though his White Eye could pierce darkness, what he saw stunned him speechless.

Inside, there was nothing but pitch-blackness. No matter how he strained his White Eye, the coffin remained a void, black as a pit, chilling him to the bone.

There was nothing to see. Darkness, and more darkness.

White Eye—

Able to see through essence, command causality.

Yet now, Guan Qian was like a blind man, his vision sealed away. The coffin’s interior was pure darkness, swallowing all sight.

“What—what is happening?” Guan Qian shook his head, eyes wide, but to no avail.

The darkness crept in. Something within the coffin was stripping his vision, overpowering even the White Eye.

“Ah—!”

Guan Qian let out a cry of pain. Unconsciously, his hand reached into the coffin. His blood boiled, his body and soul feeling cursed, compelled by the coffin’s pull, his arm slipping in without resistance.

In a flash, Guan Qian realized something was wrong. He tried to withdraw his arm, but it was too late.

His fingers, inside the coffin, felt as if bitten by serpents and scorpions—a sharp pain made him cry out in agony.