The rain of blood was not heavy, nor did it cover a wide stretch of land—it fell precisely upon the mountain slope where they stood. Shen Mu saw that throughout these woods and hills many trees, flowers, and grasses were growing with terrifying speed; the trees stood tall and lush, and the spiritual qi that hung about them was so thick it seemed on the verge of condensing into something solid, drifting in ribbons and streamers around the great trunks.

Among the flowers and grasses hung a milky white mist, and they had grown uncommonly vivid and tender.

And after so long a rain, the lakes, ditches, and rivers had all filled to the brim; and now in those lakes and rivers countless fish were growing wildly, becoming like the fish-monsters of the Desolate Ruins, several zhang in length. Some had sprouted legs and feet, leaping onto the banks to gape open mouths full of sharp teeth, catching the pattering blood-rain from the sky.

Others among the auspicious beasts of the mountains had swollen in body, bone spurs jutting from within them in branching, forking profusion—a truly frightful sight.

And the mermaids in the lake had grown enormous beyond measure, their once-beautiful faces turned strange and monstrous.

There was too much energy in the divine blood; it easily drove living things to grow into deformed monsters. And this growth was uncontrolled—whatever touched the blood-rain first grew first, and would often swell far larger than the rest.

Plants and insects too had life, and the blood-rain fell upon them as well, making this mountain slope like another Desolate Ruins.

In Shen Mu's view, it was the potent yin-yang qi, the qi of the Four Symbols, and the qi of the Five Elements within the divine blood that had upset the balance inside these living things and produced the mutations—and in that, it differed from the Desolate Ruins.

The strange beasts of the Desolate Ruins mostly carried the bloodline of gods and demons—it was inheritance; whereas the strange beasts of this mountain slope had mostly mutated by absorbing the mighty power in the divine blood.

"Which god has fallen? Is it that Dragon Herder Lord?" Mu Qingdai said softly.

Outside the great hall, radiant clouds of every hue and gleaming white mists spread over the hills and fields, decking the place out like a holy land. But should they step into the blood-rain, they too would likely mutate like the life of these mountains.

Yet if one did not take the blood-rain directly upon the body, one could cultivate here, drawing in the mighty divine power—for a person of divine abilities, this was unquestionably a holy land for cultivation!

Judging purely by spiritual and divine power, even the three great holy lands of Yan Kang would fall far short of this place. After all, neither the Dark Demon Sect, nor the Daoist Order, nor the Great Thunderclap Temple could ever slay a god to nourish its own holy land.

"The Old Woman originally lived in this backwater to trap Fan Xuanshu with her own presence. She surely never imagined this place would become a holy land for cultivation, did she?"

Shen Mu's expression turned odd. With the Sorrowless Sword he carefully caught a drop of the divine blood, examined it, and shook his head. "This is not the Dragon Herder Lord's blood. The Dragon Herder Lord's blood is dragon blood; the divine power hidden in this blood is not dragon blood..."

His expression suddenly turned strange. "This kind of divine blood—I have seen it before."

Shen Mu flicked his sword; the drop of divine blood on the blade ran down to the tip. He turned his wrist, working the sword, and the drop of blood kept flowing along the blade, yet never slid off.

Suddenly the energy within the sword burst forth, and the power of that drop of divine blood on the blade was instantly roused. It was as though a divine ability had erupted; the surging energy collided with the force of Shen Mu's sword move and drove him staggering backward again and again.

Shen Mu nodded and said gravely, "This kind of divine blood—I have indeed seen it. When that snow calamity abruptly ceased more than a year ago, it was because State Preceptor Xuan Kang had found the divine being who unleashed it and fought a great battle with him. He was gravely wounded by that divine being, and that divine being too was hurt and bled. I helped State Preceptor Xuan Kang treat his wounds, and I saw that divine being's blood. The energy in that blood is very like this drop."

At the time, Shen Mu had used a sword pellet the Silent Artisan had given him as a bridge, linking the remnants of the deity's divine ability within State Preceptor Xuan Kang's body to the divine blood, rousing the power of both the divine ability and the blood so that the two annihilated each other, easing the State Preceptor's injuries—only then could he treat him.

But that sword pellet had been worn away by this energy and shrunk greatly. The sword pellet was what the Silent Artisan had given him to deal with the Village Head, and also to let him comprehend a deeper art of refining treasures; Shen Mu had mourned its loss for quite a while.

That period was deeply etched in Shen Mu's memory, for at that time Emperor Yanfeng had also been besieged by the Old Daoist Master and the Old Tathagata and nearly died—and it was he who had stepped in to heal him.

At the time, both State Preceptor Xuan Kang and Emperor Yanfeng had been reduced to cripples, utterly wretched. The State Preceptor had taken his wife into seclusion in a small valley, and the State Preceptor's wife was with child.

"The god slain by the Sun-Shooting Divine Cannon—that is the very deity who brought down the snow calamity!"

Shen Mu's gaze flickered between light and dark. He said softly, "This too is retribution; he died as he deserved. In the snow calamity, it was the poor who suffered. Yan Kang's population dropped by twenty or thirty percent in an instant—more people died than in any of the wars past."

The three from Little Jade Capital said nothing.

When the snow calamity broke out, State Preceptor Xuan Kang had gone to Little Jade Capital. Qingyou Shanren urged him and his wife to stay, wanting to keep them in Little Jade Capital and halt the reforms. The immortals of Little Jade Capital held that the reforms of State Preceptor Xuan Kang and Emperor Yanfeng were the chief cause of the snow calamity, and that the only way to avert it was to stop the reforms.

Wang Muran and the others had heard something of this too.

State Preceptor Xuan Kang had been despondent for several days, but in the end he left Little Jade Capital. Not long after, the snow calamity ceased. Qingyou Shanren had frowned with worry and told them that the State Preceptor was still resolved upon reform.

At the time, neither State Preceptor Xuan Kang nor the immortals of Little Jade Capital had foreseen that matters would come to this pass; no one had foreseen that a god would fall—and that it would be the very god who had brought the calamity.

What changes the slaying of this god by the Sun-Shooting Divine Cannon would bring to Yan Kang, no one could say, no one could foresee.

Shen Mu washed the Heavenly Emperor's Jade Tablet with clean water more than a dozen times over, yet still did not dare take it directly in hand. He then mixed several kinds of medicinal solutions, washing and boiling and steeping it, and only then put the Jade Tablet away, hanging it once more about his neck.

Outside, the blood-rain gradually ceased, the dark clouds in the sky dispersed, and the day brightened. Shen Mu and the others walked out of the great hall, their bodies rising into the air to avoid the bloody water on the ground.

Outside, the sky was clear and bright, not a cloud in sight. That divine battle over Yan Kang seemed like a dream, as though it had never happened.

Sunlight spilled down from the west; the azure sky was washed clean and utterly limpid, and the air seemed to have grown much fresher.