The Boundary Realm, within the four directions of Jia, housed dozens of perilous, black-hole-adjacent stars.

Scattered thinly across this expanse of void, several small planetary systems were strung out in a line. A dozen aging stars emitted a dim, lackluster light, lazily illuminating the planets that circled them.

One day, these stars too would fade into utter darkness, eventually becoming mere singularities, just like those black holes lurking at the fringe of this domain.

This sector of the cosmos was desolate, impoverished, and utterly barren. No life could be seen on the surfaces of the planets. Yet, the spiritual energy within this region was extraordinarily dense. Deep beneath the planetary crusts, vast quantities of celestial treasures were gestating. Setting aside other finds, the yield and quality of Zakla crystals alone surpassed that of Youxian Star by more than ten thousand times. Here, any piece of crystal dug from the ground would be of superior or supreme grade.

Inside one particular planet, within a mining pit three hundred kilometers beneath the surface, dozens of mechanical spiders crawled slowly, emitting soft, sibilant hisses.

These mechanical arachnids, each larger than two water buffaloes, flashed ruthless malice in their crimson electronic eyes. The three small-caliber, high-energy rotary cannons mounted on their backs glowed faintly red, primed for immediate fire.

Following behind the mechanical spiders was a squad of mercenaries from the Hadwor Defense Company, clad in combat armor. They advanced soundlessly through the dimly lit tunnels, their keen eyes constantly scanning their surroundings with vigilance.

Behind the mercenaries marched another dense formation of nearly a hundred mechanical spiders, equally fully armed and ready to open fire at any moment.

At the very rear, atop the backs of these spiders, sat three Grey Wolf Spirits, each possessing the cultivation of a Mid-stage Celestial Immortal. The three figures, having achieved human form, sat cross-legged, muttering amongst themselves about Daoist principles, discussing hand seals for various spells, or perhaps contemplating the profound mysteries of an alchemy formula—truly possessing the bearing of minor immortals.

But a wolf remains a wolf. Even having reached Celestial Immortal status, their fundamental nature was unchanged. They spent most of their time debating recipes for braised pork knuckles, twice-cooked pork, and Dongpo pork. Occasionally, when the discussion became particularly spirited, a string of drool would escape the corners of their mouths.

Suddenly, the tunnel was seized by a violent tremor that shook the very earth. From a side passage erupted a massive cloud of dust and smoke, accompanied by screams of agonizing misery. The mechanical spiders and mercenaries rushed forward as one, and the three Grey Wolf Spirits shot into the passage with incredible speed.

Approximately three to five thousand cubic meters of rock strata had collapsed, crushing nearly a hundred ragged miners beneath the debris. Most were instantly pulverized into paste, while a dozen or so unfortunate souls had only their limbs trapped under the rubble. Blood continued to spurt vigorously from their wounds.

A group of miners, their hair tied in simple Daoist buns and their clothes tattered, shrieked in heart-wrenching despair, wildly swinging crude tools like pickaxes and crowbars against the mountain of rock, desperate to free their trapped comrades. The surviving miners wailed pitifully; some even lost consciousness from the sheer agony.

“Martial Uncle! Waaah, you must hold on!” “Master! Master, please, don’t fade! Stay awake, stay awake!” “My disciple, my disciple! Oh, my poor disciple!”

Sorrow engulfed the tunnel, yet the three Grey Wolf Spirits, having just burst into the pit, erupted into high-pitched, cackling laughter. They bent over, laughing with unrestrained delight, while the Hadwor mercenaries chuckled low in their chests, standing loosely dozens of meters away from the collapse, showing no inclination to offer aid.

The mechanical spiders, possessing immense strength capable of crushing boulders, merely lined up neatly behind the mercenaries, their scarlet optical sensors coldly fixed on every living miner. The rotary cannons on their backs were locked onto the bodies of all present.

An aged miner, appearing well over a hundred years old, turned around, shaking with fury, and roared, pointing a trembling finger at one of the Grey Wolf Spirits, “Vile beasts! Do you possess any shred of humanity? Do you lack even the compassion expected of cultivators?”

The faces of the three Grey Wolf Spirits hardened. One of them suddenly lashed out with a kick to the old miner’s abdomen, sending him flying a great distance, nearly smashing his head against the rock wall behind him.

The Grey Wolf Spirit snarled fiercely, “Spit your flowery nonsense! Humanity? Compassion? When your damned kind took our fathers and mothers, dug out their inner cores, and refined their souls into elixirs—when even our pelts were fashioned into rugs for your beds—did any of you call yourselves humane?”

The assembled miners stared blankly at the three Wolf Spirits. It was as if they suddenly heard countless familiar, piercing cries of suffering echoing in their ears.

Several older miners seemed to recognize the three Wolf Spirits. They gazed at them dazedly. After a long silence, one old miner, whose hair and beard had turned ivory yellow, muttered darkly, “It’s those three wolf cubs that bolted into the thicket to escape. Ha! They actually cultivated to Celestial Immortal status? Not slaying you back then was truly a misfortune for both Kunlun and Zhongnan!”

A strange tension reverberated through the mine pit. The three Grey Wolf Spirits glared at the miners, their eyes burning red. The miners, in turn, fixed venomous gazes back. Gradually, wisps of fierce wind began to swirl within the passage. The Daoist robes of the Wolf Spirits flapped wildly, and their heads began to morph into their lupine forms as countless gray hairs erupted from their bodies.

A whip of electrical light cracked violently from the side. A miner shrieked as he convulsed, struck by nearly a thousand volts, falling backward to the ground. More than a dozen Hadwor mercenaries charged forward, wielding electric whips, raining down chaotic blows upon the miners.

Hundreds of miners scattered, shielding their heads, but the tunnel was already partially blocked; the entrance where the Wolf Spirits and mercenaries entered was the only way out, leaving them with little room to maneuver. The electric whips crisscrossed the air, striking the miners until they all lay convulsing on the floor. Weaker men began foaming at the mouth and passing out.

The mercenaries cursed the miners with the vilest obscenities, demanding that within fifteen minutes they clear the debris and resume work. One mercenary yelled angrily, “Regardless of how many of you died, this month’s quota must be met. This shift alone must hand over at least ten tons of Zakla crystals. Short by a single jin, and we kill one person. You figure it out!”

In scarcely three to five minutes, all the miners were beaten to the ground. Every body spasmed rapidly due to the high-voltage current. This was precisely why the mercenaries had granted them fifteen minutes of rest.

As the leading mercenary gave the order, three mercenaries stepped up to the miners pinned beneath the rocks, aimed their weapons at their foreheads, and pulled the triggers. The muffled gunfire shook loose a scattering of small stones and dust from the ceiling overhead, and the sound froze the twitching bodies of the miners on the ground.

After a full three to five breaths, a series of agonizing wails erupted from the group of miners.

“Martial Uncle!” “Master!” “Disciple!”

The miners crawled toward their injured and slain comrades, weeping and crying out, tears streaming down their faces, the corners of some eyes splitting open, letting lines of bloody tears trace their cheeks.

The three Grey Wolf Spirits watched this scene with utter delight. They praised the heavens with utmost devotion, “The Sect Master is brilliant. This kind of Avici Hell is precisely where these hypocrites and filthy Daoists belong.” The Wolf Spirits grinned wickedly and sent dozens of gusts of finger winds toward some of the miners, lightly fracturing the bones in their fingers, arms, and shoulders—just enough to cause excruciating pain whenever they tried to exert force, thereby making the mining of sufficient Zakla crystals significantly harder.

A chorus of misery rose in the pit, but the three Grey Wolf Spirits merely laughed heartily, leading the mercenaries and mechanical spiders out of the mine.

Parallel to this mine, separated by about ten li of rock strata, lay a vast subterranean magma lake.

This was a cavern more than twenty kilometers in diameter and nearly a hundred kilometers high, with sheer, mirror-smooth walls carved with dozens of platforms of varying sizes. Disciples of the Nine Nether Dao, clad in gray robes, stood alongside Hadwor mercenaries on these platforms, looking down upon nearly ten thousand miners toiling diligently by the edge of the lava lake.

In the center of the cavern was a molten lake, about ten kilometers across, churning with lava waves that rose dozens of meters high. The metallic density of this planet was immense, and the subterranean spirit veins numerous. Coupled with the extraordinarily abundant spiritual energy of the region, the underground metal ore veins had absorbed vast quantities of this energy, breeding countless rare mineral deposits.

The planet’s core possessed extreme heat and pressure. As a result, large quantities of rare ores were melted, mixed with magma, and forced to the surface through volcanic vents.

This magma lake was one such exit point, ejecting hundreds of tons of various rare molten metals daily.

Nearly a thousand miners, wrapped in ragged asbestos insulating suits, held crude alloy ladles. They stood cautiously by the lava lake, and when they spotted the blinding white, glittering gold, deep black, or vivid green molten solutions bubbling out of the magma, they desperately lunged forward, using their ladles to scoop up as much as possible before sprinting back with the long-handled tools.

On the ground behind them, hundreds of large pools had been excavated, filled with icy spring water melted from the snows of the highest peaks, brought in from the surface. The miners poured the metal solutions from their ladles into these pools. Amidst roiling steam and the sharp sound of boiling, blocks of metal in various colors accumulated in the water.

Once each miner had collected metal ingots equivalent to ten ladle-fulls, they could return to the rear caves for a brief rest. These were small caverns carved densely into the cave walls, resembling a honeycomb. They were completely empty—merely a place where one could lie down and rest.

A squad of over a hundred miners had just completed their day’s work. They let out long, relaxed breaths, eagerly shedding their insulating suits and tossing aside their ladles. Laughing and chatting, they linked arms and headed toward the nearest cluster of caves.

From their banter, it was clear this group consisted of former star-roaming pirates. Two months prior, they had the misfortune of being captured by a mysterious and powerful fleet, and all of them were sent here to toil as miners.

Perhaps because they hadn't been here long, these miners, formerly pirates, still harbored different thoughts and were filled with lingering desires. Their bodies, hardened by years of piracy, still pulsed with the energy needed for mischief.

Just as they were about to enter the resting caves, two women suddenly emerged from a nearby alcove. They were dressed in ragged clothes, yet possessed faces of stunning beauty, skin as white as snow, and figures as delicate as willows swaying in the breeze.

The pirates collectively gasped and stared blankly at the two women.

The two women, their hair in Daoist buns, suddenly noticing the pirates, instinctively sensed malice in their gaze and hastily turned to flee back into the cave they had emerged from. In their panic, the women even forgot to cry out for help.

The pirates laughed. Their leader, a powerfully built, dark-skinned, one-eyed giant over two meters tall, sneered, “Who would have thought there were such delicate little things here? Hey, brothers, move! Everyone gets a share! Things have been too harsh here.”

Nearly a hundred pirates surged forward, cheerfully rushing into the cave where the two women had taken refuge. This cave had only one exit, and its interior space was not large. The pirates quickly found the two women and physically pinned them to the ground with many hands.

The pirate leader was the first to throw himself upon them. Both women simultaneously let out piercing—

Outside the cave, the lava lake continued to erupt, its deafening roar masking the sounds of struggle, screams, and the strange rhythm of collision within the small chamber. The Nine Nether Dao disciples stationed above witnessed everything, yet not a single one spoke; all watched the cave with intense satisfaction.

A full two hours later, a few elderly miners, ragged and withered, finally struggled to complete their day’s work. Panting, they supported each other as they slowly shuffled toward the cave where the pirates were committing their outrage.

The Nine Nether Dao disciples smiled faintly as they watched the old miners enter the cave. A hundred years ago, these old miners, who looked like they could be blown over by the wind, were Protector Disciples of the Kunlun lineage, each possessing the cultivation of an Early-stage Grand Unity Golden Immortal. But now, they were nothing more than pathetic creatures subject to whatever the Nine Nether Dao pleased.

Some of the Nine Nether Dao disciples, whose origins were demonic, breathed heavily, murmuring the names of their deceased relatives or elders.

For ten thousand years, countless Nine Nether Dao disciples had perished by the poisonous hands of the Kunlun and Zhongnan sects. The hatred between the Nine Nether Dao and the two sects was deep as the ocean, a bloody feud that could only be cleansed by the most brutal and ruthless means.

Piercing screams suddenly erupted from the cave, followed by several figures flying out haphazardly. The old Kunlun and Zhongnan protectors lay on the ground with broken limbs, wriggling desperately like caterpillars. Several pirates, faces flushed with extreme enjoyment and relaxation, sauntered out, leaning arrogantly against the rock wall near the entrance.

“Old things, why the rush? Heh heh, it’s just two women; letting us use them won’t kill you!” one pirate laughed smugly, thoroughly mocking the protector disciples. After a century of torment, the Kunlun and Zhongnan immortals were withered as dead wood; in terms of physical strength, they stood no chance against these new-generation pirates, whose bodies had been genetically modified and reinforced.

The few old Daoists stared blankly at the pirates, then suddenly shrieked in unison. They tried to summon their disciples, but their cultivation had been destroyed a century ago; their voices were barely louder than normal human speech.

Separated by several li, near the deafening roar of the erupting lava lake, the Kunlun and Zhongnan disciples couldn't hear their cries. The old Daoists collapsed to the ground in despair, casting intensely malicious looks toward the Nine Nether Dao disciples standing on the platforms high above, looking down on them.

“If we survive this, if we manage to escape this place—even if we fall into the deepest pit of Avici Hell, even if we turn into demons—we swear to settle the score with you, Nine Nether Dao, for this century of torment, this century of humiliation, this century of blood debt.”

The old Daoists’ vows of vengeance were heard clearly by the Nine Nether Dao disciples, who all displayed savage smiles.

They couldn't endure only a hundred years of torment? The Nine Nether Dao disciples had endured torture and abuse from Kunlun and Zhongnan for ten thousand years! One hundred centuries! The Nine Nether Dao disciples hadn't even deliberately tortured these old Daoists to death; back then, these very old Daoists had treated the disciples as raw material for alchemy and artifact refinement!

Compared to that, what did a little hard labor for the old Daoists of Kunlun and Zhongnan amount to? What did it count for against ten millennia of tears and blood shed by the Nine Nether Dao members?

A Nine Nether Dao disciple with Golden Immortal cultivation lightly waved a hand. A Hadwor mercenary produced a slingshot from somewhere, slowly loading a mud pellet the size of a thumb onto it. After taking a slight aim, he fired it toward an old Daoist.

The pellet struck the old Daoist squarely in the lower abdomen. The sudden, sharp pain almost made his eyes bulge from their sockets. He stared wide-eyed, emitting a shrill, ugly “Yow-ei!” sound, nearly fainting.

Seeing the garrisoned Hadwor mercenary take action, the bullying pirates hastily bowed and scraped, retreating into the cave.

Another three hours passed. When the next batch of resting Kunlun and Zhongnan disciples slowly trudged over, weary from labor, the pirates finally emerged, thoroughly satisfied, from the cave. A few Kunlun disciples sensed something was wrong, rushed into the cave, while the others nervously gathered around the injured protector disciples, shouting more cries of “Martial Uncle,” “Martial Ancestor,” and “Master,” amidst frantic commotion.

Suddenly, lamentations as if the sky were falling erupted from the cave. Outside, hundreds of Kunlun and Zhongnan disciples burst into unified, loud weeping.

The disciples mining in the distance noticed the situation growing dire and hurried toward the scene.

In this single cavern, there were over eight thousand disciples of Kunlun and Zhongnan, making up more than eighty percent of the miners. When they moved, almost no one was left mining near the magma lake.

The Nine Nether Dao disciples garrisoned there became enraged and immediately ordered the Hadwor mercenaries to suppress the restless Kunlun and Zhongnan disciples.

Before the mercenaries could act, accompanied by piercing wails, a dozen of the highest-ranking Kunlun and Zhongnan disciples carried two women, naked and covered in filth, out of the cave. They looked up at the Nine Nether Dao disciples and shouted fiercely, “Is this what you want? Has our humiliation not been enough? You might as well kill us all and exterminate our lineage!”

These two women were the grown-up vessels that the young Daoist Zhang and the Daoist Zheng had possessed for a century, sharing one physical body with a female spirit.

The Nine Nether Dao disciples merely watched the Kunlun and Zhongnan disciples and smiled.

Thousands of assembled Kunlun and Zhongnan disciples wailed in unison, their grief shaking the cavern itself.

A towering column of venomous resentment shot straight up into the clouds.