By the shore of Renzi Lake, Garuda stood proudly, his Heaven’s Gaze Sword raised straight and pointing directly at Xiu Xiu. The sword remained unchanged, its blade utterly static, save for a single, lively bead of water clinging to the tip: “This is a drop of pure spring water from beneath the lake. The Heaven’s Gaze Divine Sense technique can move the root of a thing without harming its exterior. What if we considered this lake to be a person’s throat?”
Xiu Xiu already understood Garuda’s meaning. This strike had actually traversed the entirety of Renzi Lake, but it was so fast that the lake’s surface had not even registered the movement. “This is what is meant by drawing blood without leaving a corpse…”
Garuda offered the Heaven’s Gaze Sword to Xiu Xiu. The drop of clear water instantly dissolved into a mist. “How this strike pairs with the Death God’s soul power, I believe you will find its effects unexpected. Brother Xiu, contemplate it well on your own.”
Only then did Jiu Liansheng grasp the true might of this Heaven’s Gaze Divine Sense sword technique—the sword moved faster than the man. It entered the depths of the lake, and the man’s task was simply to keep pace with the sword, reaching the far shore by relying on it. “Truly the treasure of the Sword Demon. To witness this technique today is worth a lifetime. The cultivation of the Third Sect Master is something this subordinate, Wang Chen, can only dream of attaining.”
Garuda snorted and turned away to resume his fishing. He tossed the gold plaque from his waist to Xiu Xiu. “Brother Xiu, if you do not disdain it, accept this plaque. It will make entering Desolate Bone City much more convenient later. Please, accept it.”
Xiu Xiu understood that Garuda intended to recruit him. This man was deeply calculating, using the Heaven’s Gaze technique to compel his compliance, and the act of offering the plaque suggested he was certain Xiu Xiu would agree. Could such a confident and self-assured individual stoop to being merely a Third Sect Master?
“The Third Sect Master holds you in high regard; what hesitation remains?” Jiu Liansheng swept his Bone Longsword forward, sending the gold plaque shooting toward Xiu Xiu. He merely pointed a finger, and the longsword halted in mid-air.
Xiu Xiu wrestled internally, but he saw no alternative. As the saying goes, a cunning rabbit has three burrows; the bearing of this Third Sect Master was certainly superior to that of the Drought Fiend Emperor. He took the plaque and bowed. “Thank you, Third Sect Master, for your appreciation. Xiu Xiu will surely repay this recognition of talent.”
“Mm. Attend to your own affairs. Jiu Liansheng will contact you if anything is needed,” Garuda waved his hand, his expression unusually placid. He dipped his fishing rod into the water; the fish swimming beneath the surface were not being fished for—he was clearly feeding them.
Xiu Xiu naturally had urgent matters. After bidding farewell to the Third Sect Master and inquiring about the location of the Flying Heaven Grotto, he leaped into the forest. With the Hundred Insect Soul, his movements were swift; he rushed back and forth without feeling fatigued, finding himself increasingly at ease instead.
“Third Sect Master, do you truly trust this Death God so much?” Jiu Liansheng could not fathom his master’s thoughts. In his estimation, the Third Sect Master, Garuda, possessed a mind calmer than the Great Sect Master Jiaye or the Second Sect Master Jianan. “He is a Death God after all; sooner or later, he will bring disaster upon the entire Boundless Realm.”
“There are no eternal friends, nor are there eternal enemies.” Garuda extended a finger, drawing a crystalline white streak across the air. “A great man moves according to the times; if necessary, everything can be sacrificed. Find someone to follow Xiu Xiu. When he exerts his power, he clearly displays the influence of demonic insects. I suspect this fellow is not simple.”
“Yes.”
…
Amidst the bleak wind, boundless killing intent surged anew; where shadows fell, endless precipices crumbled. At the side of the rockery near the Red Cliff Heavenly Tome, Dao Wan Deng had already erected a complex spell formation. He knew the Death Gods would not abandon their schemes so easily.
Bloodlight filled the sky, and black mist swept the ground. Shun Yi’s figure flickered in and out of sight on the stone wall. This time, he was not alone; where the crimson haze spread, Yan Ji’s figure had already drawn near. “Daoist, take this and hurry back to the Boundless Realm to report.”
A scroll written in blood flew over, etched with the intricate carving of a black dragon. The words within were meaningless, yet brimming with confidence: Command the masses of the world; the Emperor is sovereign. Cut down all things to be enslaved, dominate all realms as master. Those who submit shall be eternal slaves; those who fight shall face endless damnation. Demon Realm Sovereign, Sha Jun Tian Xia.
“Is this a letter of surrender?” Dao Wan Deng stood proudly, steadily watching the flying scroll. He chuckled softly. “What has become of the Death Gods now? Do you wish to borrow the power of the Demon Lord to avenge past humiliations?”
“I do not need the power of Sha Jun Tian Xia to kill you.” Shun Yi flashed, his shadow moving in to approach Dao Wan Deng, but as soon as his shadow entered Dao Wan Deng’s space, it was seized by a surge of powerful electricity. “So, it is a curse spell. It seems you refuse to heed the decree of the Death Country’s Zhou King.”
“Kill!” Yan Ji, without a word, was already above Dao Wan Deng. Clad in a tight, plain blue dress that accentuated her figure, she plummeted, her legs clamping around Dao Wan Deng’s waist. “Daoist, how does the taste of String Fire suit you?”
“Fast, I grant you that, but insufficient!” Dao Wan Deng had anticipated this. He seized the opportune moment and tapped the Spirit-Dotting Brush onto the ground. A mass of white current violently erupted from the formation, striking the brush dead center. Instantly, he surged upward like a lightning rod, intending to electrocute Yan Ji.
“Ah!” Yan Ji had not expected Dao Wan Deng’s curse magic to be so potent. Before she could fully imbue her long string weapon with purple flames, Dao Wan Deng forced her back to the ground. “Daoist, you are not very gentle with a lady.”
“Yan Ji, I told you to cooperate with me fully.” As Shun Yi spoke, he vanished into the space along with his shadow. The shadow formed a ring, merging into Dao Wan Deng’s formation. Suddenly, the lightning intensified, and a powerful stream of light pursued the shadow’s trajectory.
“Can you outrun lightning?” Dao Wan Deng stood upright within the formation. Watching the lightning chase the shadow, he could not help but marvel at Shun Yi’s speed—the very strength boasted by the Shadow-aligned Death Gods.
“Die!” At this moment, Yan Ji found the gap in the lightning. Her long string weapon, infused with a thread of purple flame, shot toward Dao Wan Deng. Dao Wan Deng vigorously swept his Spirit-Dotting Brush, generating a gale-force wind meant to blow the string away. However, the string proved both flexible and firm, unnervingly following the trajectory of Shun Yi’s shadow.
“Clang!” Suddenly, a figure leaped out from the shadow’s path. It had no eyes, no discernible features—clearly Shun Yi’s shadow. Dao Wan Deng reacted swiftly but struggled to discern the real from the fake. He blocked the shadow’s strike with his Spirit-Dotting Brush, his heart sinking.
“Your cultivation is not bad, Daoist, but you are up against me.” Shun Yi spoke calmly, his shadow transforming into a sharp spike that pierced upward from beneath Dao Wan Deng’s feet. Dao Wan Deng leaped back to evade, but Yan Ji, wielding the fire of her long string, kept up the pressure.
“Good coordination,” Dao Wan Deng spun his Spirit-Dotting Brush, scattering countless talismans. At that moment, the surrounding vegetation stirred, casting myriad vines toward Yan Ji’s long string. “Flora Spirit Curse, Flying Kill!”
“Whoosh-crackle!” Suddenly, the vegetation transformed into sharp spikes that pierced into the ground beneath Yan Ji. They moved as if guided by eyes, striking directly at vital spots. Yan Ji dodged too late, emerging covered in wounds and knocked sprawling. “Ouch!”
“Now!” Shun Yi had seen through Dao Wan Deng’s feint long ago. He used Yan Ji as bait, and now that Dao Wan Deng had fallen for the trap, he stood behind him. His hand morphed into a claw, stabbing toward Dao Wan Deng’s abdomen. Dao Wan Deng used the Spirit-Dotting Brush to defend but could not match Shun Yi’s speed. Consequently, he was driven to the ground, blood flowing endlessly from his lower abdomen. “Using an ensnared companion as bait—truly worthy of a Death God.”
“Shun Yi, you…” Yan Ji glared, raising her long string weapon to strike Shun Yi. “I never thought you could be so treacherous.”
Shun Yi landed, licking the blood from his hand, unfazed. “Daoist, I will not kill you. Take the letter of surrender back to your Myriad Dao Mountain. It will not be long before you perish beneath the feet of us Death Gods!”
“Clear Wind Transforms to Snow, Burying a Thousand Years…” Dao Wan Deng stared at his wound but did not give up. He spun the Spirit-Dotting Brush, and a fierce wind howled. At that moment, snowflakes inexplicably began to drift from the sky, and soon the ground was covered in a thick layer of ice. “Today, I, Dao Wan Deng, shall use my bloodied body to seal the entrance to the Boundless Realm, if only to prevent the calamity from rising again.”
“Damn it! Stop him quickly.” Shun Yi lunged forward with one hand, a swift stab, but as he neared Dao Wan Deng’s body, he was repelled. At this point, Dao Wan Deng’s entire body was encased in ice, impervious to harm.
“Rumble…” A powerful palm strike shot down from beyond the heavens. A cold light flashed inward, shaking Dao Wan Deng’s frozen form until he could not resist. He staggered repeatedly, retreating against the wall of the Red Cliff Heavenly Tome. “What power is this? Who is it?”
“This subordinate pays respects to the Zhou King.” Shun Yi and Yan Ji immediately knelt. The person who arrived was none other than the Lord of the Shadow-aligned Death Gods, the Death Country’s Zhou King. That palm strike, coming from a distance, possessed a thick, world-encompassing might, unbreakable by anything.
The Zhou King, clad in a dark-gold robe and wearing a sweat-and-blood crown, walked steadily toward Dao Wan Deng with his hands behind his back. “Daoist, take the letter of surrender into the Boundless Realm. Our Death God lineage does not appreciate opponents who are completely unprepared and easily crushed.”
“You are…” Dao Wan Deng knew little of the ancient wars. Facing this figure radiating kingly aura, he felt only an overwhelming sense of superiority. “I did not expect the denizens of the Death Country to regroup so quickly through the Gate of Death?”
“Remember, there is more than one Nether King in the Death Country.” The Zhou King waved his sleeve, his figure agile, disappearing with Shun Yi and the other beside the stone wall. As they departed, countless surrender scrolls, as light as snow, drifted down through the air.
“Death Country’s Zhou King.” As Dao Wan Deng stood up, his legs involuntarily trembled. The Ice Sealing Curse was a supreme incantation from Myriad Dao Mountain, yet the Zhou King had dissolved it with ease. He sighed, gathering the sky-fallen surrender scrolls. “The Death Gods have entered; the great calamity rises again. How will the entire Boundless Realm cope this time?”
…
Xiu Xiu followed the path guided by Jiu Liansheng, but his mind remained fixed on the power of the Heaven’s Gaze technique. He tried repeatedly but could not grasp the level of mastery Garuda possessed. Every strike he attempted either resulted in the object shattering or his speed falling short—it was hard to imagine the exquisite skill required for drawing blood without leaving a corpse.
Before he realized it, the sun was setting across the land. Following his route, Xiu Xiu unexpectedly returned to the bank of the Blood Maple River, not far from where Ba Fang Jin and Qi’er once resided. The small hut from that day had long been razed to the ground. The fading sunlight struck the earth; though not brilliant, it cast a somber melancholy upon the world.
Xiu Xiu drew a sharp breath. At that moment, the Heaven’s Gaze Sword on his back seemed to sense Ba Fang Jin’s presence; instantly, red light and cold air flashed wildly, and the sword darted out, piercing into the soil. “Rest assured, I will definitely return Qi’er safely to her mother.”
The air grew colder as night fell. Xiu Xiu, with a heavy heart, followed his route until he reached a hollow nestled between two high peaks. This hollow resembled the ravines in the Red Cliff Cemetery, its sides covered in various vines. However, these vines held no bizarre demons, yet they plunged into an abyss, a chilling air rising from the bottom that pierced bone and marrow.
Xiu Xiu gracefully flipped over and plunged downward. Various scenes flitted past his eyes. A single butterfly drifted lazily over and settled gently on his arm, unwilling to leave. He waved his hand and smiled. “It seems the Hundred Insect Soul can completely armor itself into an insect. That way, no matter how ferocious the bug, it shouldn't harm me, right?”
He landed softly from several zhang in the air, not disturbing a speck of dust beneath his feet. He walked straight into the depths of the valley and discovered a small house standing in the center. On the dry well outside the house sat a familiar figure.