"Whoosh..." Just then, heavy ripples broke across the black water where Ye Xiu stood, and a bloodshot arm shot out from beneath the surface, clearly aimed directly for his feet.

"Ah!" He had just been chatting casually with Old Liu when this sudden event erupted, terrifying him so much he scrambled backward against the rock wall behind him.

However, things were not as dire as Ye Xiu had imagined; without grasping anything, the arm retreated smoothly back into the black water, and the entire surface returned to its former stillness.

"It's a water wraith causing trouble," Old Liu wasn't easily startled by ghosts or strange arts. However, sensing the soul energy from the Styx, he had paid close attention moments before. Sticking up a finger, he commented, "All the resentment from that thing seemed to originate from a matriarchal spider. Its target wasn't us. Could it be that someone else has already ventured into the Styx within this Nine Deadly Poison Formation?"

"Scared the hell out of me," Ye Xiu finally managed to steady himself after hearing Old Liu’s analysis. That black water was bone-chilling; he had no desire to fall into it a third time. He paused, then slowly rose to prepare for the next leg of their journey.

Old Liu also began to move. He turned back and tossed a five-pointed star to Ye Xiu: "Looking at your unlucky face, you might need to enter this black water again later. Keep this Ice Crystal Five-Pointed Star handy; you can freeze the water instantly if needed. The water wraith’s target wasn't us, but it certainly isn't kind to anyone who falls in."

"En," Ye Xiu dared not complain and meekly followed his steps. As they proceeded deeper into the dark river, he began to notice that the surrounding rock walls were no longer as chaotic as before. Some sections were neatly arranged, and they even seemed to bear murals. I cautiously brought my Violet Flame closer, and on the cyan stone walls, horrifying images were painted: monsters with multiple limbs, eyes, and even heads. Their faces were dark green, mouths agape in snarls—a single glance sent a chill down his spine.

Old Liu’s headlamp seemed to illuminate the same scene. After a brief study, he stated, "It is indeed the main artery of the Styx. That image of myriad heads and hands is what they call Asura. I truly hope we don't encounter such a monster here."

"Hoo..." Ye Xiu walked slowly, but his gaze never strayed from the murals. These were relics from the Underworld, existing for who knows how many tens of thousands of years, yet the image of the Asura was strikingly clear. He clearly saw a river in the painting—it must be the Styx—but along the bank of the Styx, a figure resembling a Bodhisattva was seated in meditation. Ye Xiu exclaimed, "Is this Bodhisattva in the painting the legendary Kṣitigarbha? Isn't he supposed to suppress the Asura clan? Why is he sitting here as if chanting scriptures?"

Old Liu looked back too and remarked, "You don't know Kṣitigarbha Bodhisattva’s famous vow, do you? 'Until the hells are emptied, I will not attain Buddhahood.' I imagine after exterminating the Asura clan, the venerable one is responsible for transmigrating their vengeful spirits too. Who can truly understand the affairs of the Primordial Era? Mount Jiuhua is the Bodhisattva's sacred ground. I heard there’s a little-known secret realm there called the Five-Pointed Burial Mound of Buddha. We might learn all of Kṣitigarbha's secrets there. If we get the chance, perhaps we should visit that place; we might even absorb some Buddhist energy, which could aid our cultivation."

"Damn it, let's focus on surviving this Poisonous Formation first," Ye Xiu gave Old Liu a shove, urging him to lead the way properly. Honestly, he felt a bit resentful; he could have just remained the Death God, coldly observing the life and death of the mortal world. Now, even his own fate was beyond his control.

"Stop pushing. There’s no path ahead. It seems we’ve reached the end of the dark river's passage," Old Liu stood firm ahead, his expression unreadable.

Ye Xiu thought that reaching the end of the Styx meant the next step was finding a way to the next Dao realm. But when he reached the last stone along this bank, he discovered only a tiny glimmer of light ahead, situated across the boundless expanse of the black Styx water. He sighed heavily and joked, "What now? Impassable colossal stones overhead, and bone-piercing black water beneath our feet. How are we supposed to cross? Swim?"

Old Liu was equally stumped and frustrated, crouching down. He extended a finger to touch the black water and immediately recoiled as if struck by electricity. He said coldly, "The Styx is never meant to be walked upon. Legend says at the end of the land route, there should be a Ferryman of the Styx. Even now, in the Styx of the Nine Deadly Poison Formation, who knows what we might find."

"A ferryman steering a lone boat?" Ye Xiu recognized the figure he was referring to. He used the Violet Flame to illuminate the rock wall beside them. The mural now depicted the end of the Styx’s land route: a boatman draped in a vast piece of cloth, along with his rickety boat, appeared on the shore. The oar in his hand was unusually slender—or rather, the object in the drawing didn't look like an oar at all, resembling a scythe, the very kind associated with the Grim Reaper we see in tales.

As Ye Xiu finished speaking, Old Liu abruptly stood up. He stared blankly at the river surface, his voice beginning to tremble: "You truly are a jinx. Say something, and it appears. Look at the water!"

Ye Xiu turned his head. On the previously still black river, wisps of mist had silently begun to drift, and from within the fog came the faint, measured sound of a bell. Each toll was long and slow, inducing drowsiness. Soon, a hazy, dim yellow light emerged from the mist. Following the gentle sound of flowing water, a dilapidated, deep-black wooden boat, piloted by a cloaked figure holding a thin pole, gradually approached them.

"Clang..." With the final, heavy ring of the bell, the entire procession drifted to a stop against the shore. The boatman was entirely shrouded in his cloak; his head, supported by the hood, was a hollow void. He held the thin pole in one hand and cradled a fresh, living skull in the other. He stood before them motionless, silent, utterly devoid of life.

"So there really is a Ferryman of the Styx," Old Liu whispered, and surprisingly, he stepped one foot onto the battered boat. The vessel was incredibly light and did not rock despite Old Liu boarding it.

Looking at the ferryman, Ye Xiu suddenly felt a strange sense of familiarity. Logically, this figure should be called the Death God, as his appearance was too close to the Grim Reaper he'd seen in movies. But compared to himself—the real Death God wearing a short-sleeved shirt and jeans—this figure seemed hopelessly archaic. Ye Xiu glanced at Old Liu and warned cautiously, "Are you sure we should get on this ghost ship?"

"Shh..." Old Liu was already standing beneath the ferryman. He held up a finger, signaling Ye Xiu to be quiet, then murmured, "Nothing else can reach the end of the Styx except the ferryman's boat. We have no choice. Hurry up and get on."

Ye Xiu reluctantly stepped onto the wooden boat. The instant both his feet crossed the threshold, the bell hanging from the bow began to jingle incessantly—it felt as if it were announcing to the passengers that they were departing, with the final destination being death itself.