NABC Chapter 32 The Nether Sea
Chapter 32 The Nether Sea
The Netherworld Sea is not a sea.
It is a desolate, black wasteland without shores, the last land battlefield between the spirit realm and the demon realm ten thousand years ago. At the end of the war between gods and demons, after the Celestial Venerable sealed the Demon Lord, the remaining demonic blood seeped into the earth, corroding thousands of miles of fertile land into a dead land perpetually churning with black mud. The demonic blood and the spiritual energy in the earth's veins devoured and intertwined, forming a black mist between liquid and gas, so thick it could block out the midday sun. Living people who step into this area will have their protective spiritual power constantly eroded by the demonic energy; cultivators below the True Condensation Realm can only withstand it for the time it takes for an incense stick to burn.
Ling Chen stood at the edge of the Blackwater Wasteland, his Eye of Insight piercing through the thick fog, revealing countless enormous black shadows vaguely standing deep within the wasteland. Some of these shadows resembled leaning towers, others collapsed city walls, and still others giant swords thrust upside down into the ground—remnants of a battlefield from ten thousand years ago, floating fortresses sunk during the war between gods and demons, and broken ancient weapons, now soaked in demonic blood for millennia, transformed into ruins covered in black moss.
"The concentration of demonic energy is at least five times higher than that of the outer perimeter of the Extreme Flame Forbidden Land." Su Qingyuan plunged the tip of the Frost Condensing Sword into the ground, and frost spread several feet outward from her. However, the frost flowers on the black mud only lasted for a few breaths before being eroded by the demonic energy and riddled with holes. "The Frost Condensing Sword's ice domain is severely suppressed here and can only be maintained for half an hour at most."
"Half an hour is enough. The map Silver Scale gave us marks three possible entrances to the barrier. The closest one is at the abandoned demon outpost, about five hundred feet ahead." Ling Chen channeled the power of the Myriad Dao Returning to Ruins Diagram into his feet. Pale golden chaotic light spread from the soles of his boots to the surface of the black mud. Wherever the two passed, the demonic energy was briefly absorbed and purified, leaving a string of light golden footprints.
Five hundred zhang is a mere instant on normal ground. But in the Nether Sea, every step required battling the corrosive power of demonic energy and the suction of the black mud. The black mud seemed alive, silently churning at the warmth of living beings, trying to entangle the soles of their boots and drag them deeper. When the two were halfway there, the first collapsed floating tower appeared in the black mist. The tower lay horizontally on the black mud, its surface covered with dark red demonic runes, their pulse synchronized with a heartbeat. As Ling Chen passed by, he caught a glimpse of a sword mark tens of zhang long on the side of the tower. The demonic runes at the edge of the mark had been charred and curled by some force, yet even after ten thousand years, a faint trace of fire-based sword intent remained.
The sword intent that burns the heavens. This tower was sunk by Yan Shi.
After walking another hundred paces or so, Su Qingyuan, who had been walking silently beside her, suddenly stopped. She turned her head to look into the depths of the thick fog, and the Frost Condensation Sword trembled slightly in her hand.
"there."
Ling Chen followed her gaze. He couldn't see anything in the thick fog, but both Duan Nian and Fen Tian vibrated simultaneously in his dantian. The resonance of the three attendant swords—the Sword Attendant's Duan Nian, the Ice Attendant's Ning Shuang, and the Flame Attendant's Fen Tian—sensed something at the same time. The only thing capable of simultaneously triggering the resonance of all three swords, besides the Heavenly Venerable himself, was an old comrade who had fought alongside them ten thousand years ago. Without hesitation, the two changed direction and headed towards the direction of the strongest resonance.
A massive wreckage slowly emerged from the thick fog. It was a demonic warship from ten thousand years ago, its hull broken in two, the bow half embedded deep in the black mud, the stern half leaning against the ruins of a collapsed city wall. The hull was densely covered with demonic defensive runes, most of which had been dulled by demonic energy, but the enormous demonic eye totem on the bow still emitted a faint golden light. The source of the three swords' resonance lay within that warship.
Ling Chen climbed onto the sloping deck. The black mud on the deck was ankle-deep, and the hatch was blocked by a broken keel, leaving only a narrow gap. He squeezed in sideways, and with the tip of his Broken Thought Sword, he pried open the tattered battle flag hanging on the bulkhead, and saw that person.
An old man in tattered armor sat cross-legged in the center of the cabin. His armor was identical in design to the demonic markings on Silver Scale's body, but far more ancient and heavy. The white zeolite totem on his breastplate, soaked black with demonic blood, still stubbornly glowed. The old man's hair and beard were all white, his face withered. His hands were folded on his knees, a fist-sized jade-colored scale pressed between his palms. Nearly ten talismans sealing demonic energy were affixed to his body, most of them reduced to mere fragments. The last silver talisman affixed to his brow was slowly peeling away. A very faint golden barrier spread out around him, several feet in radius, keeping the demonic energy inside the cabin out. But the barrier was as thin as a cicada's wing, and could shatter at any moment.
Ling Chen knelt down in front of him, injecting the chaotic power of the Myriad Dao Returning to Ruins Diagram into the nearly dissipated golden barrier, stabilizing the almost shattered barrier somewhat. The old man's eyelids trembled, and he slowly opened them. His eyes were golden vertical pupils, originating from the same source as the cold-blooded pupils of the silver-scaled animal.
"...Humans?" The voice was dry, like sandpaper being rubbed.
"Ling Chen of the Qingyun Sect. Are you the Demon Emperor Bai Ze?"
"Who else could this old man be?" Bai Ze coughed twice, his gaze slowly sweeping over the sword tassel at Ling Chen's waist, then landing on the Frost Condensation sword in Su Qingyuan's hand, finally sensing the blazing sword intent emanating from Ling Chen's dantian. His golden vertical pupils widened slightly, and he remained silent for a long time. Then he asked, "Did Yan Shi send you?"
"No. The afterimage of the Flame Servant has dissipated, and the Heavenly Flame has recognized me as its master. I am the reincarnation of the Heavenly Venerable, and my name is Ling Chen."
Bai Ze stared at him for a long time, then lowered his head to look at the jade-colored scale in his palm.
"I've been searching for this Ghost Shark Scale for hundreds of years. After finding it, I sat here for months, but I still couldn't break the barrier. This Netherworld Ship was my flagship ten thousand years ago. Back then, I led the ship to fight against the Shadow Demon General's demon army in the skies above the Netherworld Sea. After the ship sank, my old subordinates sealed the hatches and scuttled themselves, dragging most of the demon army into the Black Abyss. Their remnant souls still suppress the souls of the demon army's dead at the bottom of the hull."
He raised his hand and slowly pressed the Kisame scale into the groove of the breastplate. The moment the scale embedded itself, the inscriptions on the breastplate, which had been dim for millennia, lit up one by one, and golden light spread outwards like a tide. A deep rumble came from the depths of the ship; it was the keel responding to its former master's call, its core array not yet completely dead.
The barrier was activated the instant the demon shark's scales embedded themselves. However, this seal, laid down ten thousand years ago, had become as fragile as cracked porcelain after being soaked in demonic blood for millennia. Just as the golden barrier rose, a piercing shriek, almost tearing eardrums, echoed from the depths of the black mist. It wasn't the sound of wind, nor thunder, but a living being—a demon general with a cultivation level at least at the mid-stage of the Void Realm, startled by the spiritual energy overflowing from the barrier's activation, was rushing towards them at full speed.
"No need. You guard the hatch, I will activate the Netherworld Ship." Bai Ze's thin fingers pressed on the breastplate, the fingertips hissing from the heat of the remaining inscriptions.
Ling Chen reached out and supported Bai Ze's shoulder, which was about to collapse, and chaotic spiritual energy surged into his parched meridians. Bai Ze's body trembled, and he looked down at Ling Chen's hand on his shoulder. He was silent for a moment, and then showed the first smile in months.
"The Celestial Venerable is healing the Demon Emperor—I've waited ten thousand years for this scene, but it's more mundane than I imagined."
Su Qingyuan had already reached the edge of the cabin door. With the tip of her Frost-Condensing Sword touching the ground, she turned back and asked, "How are we supposed to guard it?"
Bai Ze slowly stood up, every crack in his armor fusing back together in the golden light of the Ghost Shark scales. He placed his hand on the bulkhead, and a long, drawn-out dragon's roar echoed from the depths of the Netherworld Ship's keel—the ship's soul, dormant for ten thousand years, was being awakened anew. His tone was calm, as if answering an utterly ordinary question:
"I'll stay here until I'm old enough to pull this wrecked ship out of the mud."
The words had barely left her lips when the black mist outside the hatch exploded. A pitch-black demonic shadow, accompanied by a foul wind, burst forth from the thick fog, its five sharp claws tearing through the mist and heading straight for the hatch. Su Qingyuan neither dodged nor evaded; the tip of her Frost Condensing Sword touched the ground, and a hundred-foot-long ice wall rose from the ground, freezing the demonic claws in mid-air. The ice wall, cracked by the demonic energy of the Void Realm cultivator, resembled a mirror about to shatter, yet it did not collapse. She was not wearing a veil today; her icy blue eyes shone like cold stars in the shadow of the demonic energy.
Ling Chen darted out from the other side of the hatch, drawing his sword, Duan Nian. The cracks on the blade, edged with a pale gold by the chaotic spiritual energy, resonated within the Wan Dao Gui Xu Diagram, channeling his fiery sword intent into the spine of Duan Nian. The two opposing sword intents, ice and fire, coexisted harmoniously in his hand. With a single strike, a long gash was cleaved through the black mist outside the hatch, revealing the demon general's true form—a humanoid figure with arms reaching past his knees, and five dark red demonic cores embedded in each of his claws. His cultivation was indeed at the mid-stage of the Void Realm, but not yet stable.
The sword imprint reminded Ling Chen that the seal was still in place, and the demon general's true form would require a heavy price to descend. This demon general's aura was unstable, indicating that his descent had been suppressed. Killing him might only require a single opening.
The keel of the Netherworld Ship emitted an increasingly dense metallic scraping sound as Bai Ze's demonic power seeped into the hull inch by inch along the keel. The enormous demonic eye totem on the bow began to glow, and the half of the ship, half-buried in black mud, trembled violently as it rose. If they could hold out until the Netherworld Ship took off, they could escape the demonic suppression of the Netherworld Sea. At that point, the ship's fire control system would restart, and whether they could annihilate a swathe of the demonic army would depend on the skill of Bai Ze's formation back then.
Without a word, the demon general unleashed a barrage of ten claws formed from demonic energy, slashing towards the hatch. Su Qingyuan leaped into the air, her frost-covered blades drawing a circle, from which countless palm-sized ice swords erupted, deflecting the claws one by one. The remaining blades grazed her shoulder, tearing her white robes, and drops of blood condensed into frozen beads that spilled onto the deck. Ling Chen, using his Shadow Step, cut in from the side, his Eye of Truth locking onto the demon general's core in his dantian—the demon general's core wasn't a single one, but rather a series of interconnected smaller cores embedded within his body. The main core was in his dantian, with two secondary cores positioned on his left and right sides; a single thrust would only cripple one side. He needed to pierce all three cores simultaneously.
"Qing Yuan, left rib sub-core!"
Su Qingyuan didn't ask why. The instant the ice wall shattered, she condensed the ice fragments into an ice spear and fired it. The spearhead accurately struck the demon general's left rib. The demonic energy of the Void Realm shattered the ice spear, but the residual force penetrated the demon core, deflecting it slightly. In the brief moment when the demon core deflected and the flow of spiritual energy was interrupted, Ling Chen's sword arrived. The Severing Thoughts and Returning to Thoughts merged seamlessly with the Nine Slashes of Heaven-Splitting, and chaotic spiritual energy simultaneously poured into the dual sword intents of Severing Thoughts and Burning Heaven—the sword tips pierced the main dantian core and the secondary core of the right rib simultaneously. The deflected secondary core of the left rib was shattered by Su Qingyuan's second ice sword strike. The sword intents of the three attendant swords formed three resonant loops on his sword, and the three crisp sounds merged into a long, melodious sword cry.
The demon general looked down at the three sword wounds piercing his chest simultaneously, his dark red eyes wide open. With a final roar, his demonic energy coalesced into a phantom in the air, attempting to self-destruct and take the invaders with him. But before the demonic energy could fully form, a golden light shot from the bow of the Netherworld Ship, striking the demon general squarely in the back, piercing through the remaining demonic energy along with his core. The dazzling golden light, undiminished after piercing through, tore a passage tens of feet long through the black mist. The demonic energy on either side of the passage could not approach, as if it had been burned into nothingness.
The Netherworld Ship was rising from the black mud. The demonic eye totem on its bow was fully lit, and the protective demonic arrays on both sides of the hull, rusted for millennia, gradually shone like awakened stars. Countless golden beams shot from the demonic eyes into the depths of the Netherworld Sea. Bai Ze stood on the bridge, every crack in his tattered armor filled with the golden light of the ghost shark scales, his beard and hair dancing wildly in the waves of demonic energy. Tens of thousands of streams of demonic energy on the sea sizzled and burned under the light of the demonic eyes.
"Who gave you the audacity to fire on the flagship of the Demon Race Supreme?"
The demon general's corpse fell from mid-air into the black mud and slowly sank. The black mud beneath the Netherworld Ship was pushed aside by the ship's hull, forming a huge mud wave. Within the mud wave, the remains of several old subordinates buried for ten thousand years could be vaguely seen—they were still wearing intact demon armor, and the inscriptions on the armor lit up simultaneously when they sensed the golden light of the ghost shark scales, as if loyal bones were responding to their former master.
Bai Ze looked down at the wreckage, his face expressionless. He raised his hand, forming an ancient hand seal, and silently recited a few ancient incantations. Then he turned around and clasped his hands in a salute to Ling Chen, who was standing on the deck. It was a standard military salute, exactly the same as the one he adopted before Yan Shi's afterimage dissipated.
"The Netherworld Ship has returned to its position. Please, Celestial Venerable, aboard."
Ling Chen sheathed his sword and stepped onto the deck of the Netherworld Ship.