A black ancient ship, stained with blood, lay anchored within—massive beyond measure, its crimson-stained decks a horrifying sight as it drifted endlessly through the boundless void.
This was a bizarre spectacle. Within the great rift of the void, such a ship existed!
Shi Hao’s expression darkened. No matter how he thought about it, he never expected to encounter this. Back when he left the Yuan Heavenly Secret Realm in the Five Elements Province, the Demon Blood Ghost God Tree had warned him that three things were most feared when traversing the void.
One of them was this black ancient ship!
Since ancient times, only a handful among billions of living beings had ever laid eyes on it. But once encountered, it meant certain death—even the most powerful sect masters could not escape its fate.
Legends said that no one who ever boarded this ship had returned alive.
Shi Hao never imagined that while pursuing the source of the eerie, he would come face to face with it at the edge of the void rift—a vessel that had appeared only a handful of times throughout eternity.
A distant glimpse would have been one thing, but now it was terrifyingly close, its oppressive aura palpable.
“Shi Hao, what’s happening? What’s wrong with you?” Qing Yi called from behind, seeing him standing motionless like a statue, his expression frozen in shock.
“Don’t ask—just run!” Shi Hao transmitted his voice, urging them to retreat as far as possible.
The group hesitated, but none doubted the gravity of his words. Without protest, they retreated toward the three thousand ancient paths.
Standing on the bluestone road, they gazed from afar at the black void rift—like the gaping maw of a prehistoric beast, dark and heart-stopping.
Shi Hao remained alone, his body tense as if under extreme strain.
The ship was unimaginably vast, stretching tens of thousands of miles. Its black hull exuded antiquity, along with an eerie desolation, as though it had existed for countless epochs.
The blood staining it was a terrifying crimson, unyielding to the erosion of time, never drying, always gleaming against the blackened wood.
Shi Hao wanted to flee, but his feet refused to move. Like a serpent drawing in water, the ancient ship exerted an irresistible pull, dragging him toward it.
Its origins, its era—none could be traced. It was simply known as one of the most dreadful ancient artifacts in existence.
Struggling against the force, Shi Hao realized his strength was insignificant compared to the ship’s might.
“Is this the source of the eerie?” A chill ran down his spine.
The suction intensified, warping the void rift itself. Unable to resist, Shi Hao was pulled toward the most sinister vessel of all time.
The moment his feet left the ground, he transmitted one last warning to Qing Yi and Cao Yusheng—do not follow, stay far away.
Then, like a shooting star, he was hurled onto the ancient ship, the force too immense to defy.
The void was vast, endless.
Within the black rift, the ancient ship stood eternal—utterly silent, devoid of life, marked only by death and the scars of time.
**Thud!**
A violent impact shook Shi Hao as he crashed onto the deck, his ears ringing from the force.
His body, capable of slaying True Gods barehanded, now ached from the collision. Anyone weaker would have been reduced to pulp.
The speed had been terrifying—like a comet striking the earth from beyond the heavens.
Rising to his feet, Shi Hao found no lasting injuries, though his blood churned. Around him, mist shrouded the ship in an eerie haze.
The ship’s material was unfathomable—like metal, yet resembling ancient wood, unyielding to any force.
Standing on the deck, its expanse seemed infinite. A single being here was but a speck of dust. Who could have built such a monstrosity?
A cold dread settled in Shi Hao’s heart. He had boarded the ship—the same vessel that had spelled doom for all who saw it.
Now, just as he had taken his first step into immortality, wielding power that could shake the ancient heavens, he found himself here. What cruel fate.
“Will I perish here?” he wondered.
Activating his Heavenly Eye, silver runes formed in his pupils, interlaced with golden patterns, glowing as he surveyed the ship.
Suddenly, his eyes burned—crimson light seared his vision, threatening to blind him.
Blood.
Miles away on the deck, pools of blood shimmered with ancient, mysterious runes, capable of harming even his Heavenly Eye.
A shiver ran through him. What creature’s blood could remain fresh for eons, still pulsing with vitality and power?
Even gazing upon it was dangerous, its energy too sinister.
The blood was everywhere, vast patches of it, each radiating an unfathomable force.
Shi Hao couldn’t leave. Any attempt to fly was met with an unbreakable pull. Yet, he could walk freely across the deck.
“Even sect masters who boarded this ship never returned. Is this why—trapped until they withered away?”
Moving forward, he approached one of the bloodstains. Without his Heavenly Eye, it was merely crimson. But activating his power brought searing pain, as though blades sliced through him.
He had seen immortal blood before—sacred and pure. This was nothing like it. This blood was tyrannical, refusing to be approached.
“Such terrifying blood!” He longed to study it, to decipher its runes, but dared not.
This blood could kill beings far stronger than him. Recklessness meant death.
Circling the stain, he found a skeleton—half melted to ash, the other half intact.
The bones bore a faint golden hue, proof of the being’s immense strength. Yet, it had perished attempting to collect the blood.
“Others have come here, lost like me.”
This stain spanned miles, yet it was small compared to others he had glimpsed—some stretching hundreds of miles.
“Why hasn’t the eerie struck yet?” Shi Hao frowned. He was aboard the ship, yet nothing had happened.
Pressing on, he used his Heavenly Eye cautiously, eventually spotting damage at the ship’s bow.
The deck here was scarred—axe marks, sword holes—evidence of a battle.
Instantly, Shi Hao shuddered. Through these marks, overwhelming killing intent surged, as if the combatants’ fury transcended time.
These were traces of peerless experts, their battle’s aura still lingering.
Silently, the flame within him stirred—its symbols flashing like a mirror, reflecting every mark.
Shi Hao watched in silence as the mysterious flame retreated back into his body.
Resigned to his fate, he pressed forward. Since escape was impossible, he would uncover the ship’s secrets.
Hundreds of miles later, he found an artifact—black as the ship itself, shaped like a colossal vat, spewing golden light and pulsing with life.
What was this?
Circling it, he realized it resembled a rain barrel—like those on mortal ships meant to collect water.
But why would this terrifying ship need such a thing? Where was it sailing that required “rain collection”?
Focusing his divine sense, Shi Hao probed the vat’s contents.
Though his body couldn’t fly, his spirit could—yet even that brought excruciating pain, as though blades sliced his mind.
Enduring the agony, his divine sense reached the vat’s rim—and what he saw stunned him.
A lake’s worth of golden blood, churning with runes, its power overwhelming.
“Heavens!” Shi Hao gasped. What creature’s blood was this, stored in such quantities?
The golden blood’s runes were even more terrifying than the crimson stains. His divine sense nearly burned away upon contact.
Retreating, Shi Hao fell into deep thought. This place defied all logic.
“Could this rival immortal blood?”
Further on, he found more vats—each filled with blood of different colors: silver-white, scarlet, black…
Each was horrifying, their runes capable of annihilating deities with ease.
And this was merely the blood of dead beings.
Stunned, Shi Hao turned back, staring at the vats in disbelief.
If this ship was like mortal vessels, what “sea” was it crossing?
And if these were rain barrels, what realm had skies that poured down such blood?
His mind raced, conjuring terrifying possibilities.
Thousands of miles later, he encountered more horrors—including a severed horn, massive as a hill, translucent yet stained with blood.
Its shape was uncanny—resembling both a deer’s antler and a true dragon’s horn.
“Where have I come to?” Shi Hao murmured.
Everything he had seen defied comprehension, each more extraordinary than the last.
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage