Why should I be afraid?
When the “Underworld Emperor,” who is close to the Grandmaster, takes action, would he even ask why someone should be afraid?
The first reaction of the Soul-Taking Yaksha was a mix of anger and amusement, finding the question absurd. Soon after, he sensed danger, felt a premonition of peril, and instinctively looked toward Meng Qi in alarm, blurting out:
“You!”
Then, he opened his eyes wide and stared at the Underworld Emperor.
The Soul-Taking Yaksha had managed to escape pursuit and survive for so long in the lawless depths of Bomi—how could he be a foolish or short-sighted man? The opponent’s calmness must mean they had a hidden ace!
As he looked, he felt an icy chill seep into his bones, his blood freezing. The Underworld Emperor and Zu Ling’s movements slowed simultaneously, the mysterious, obscure crimson waves and frozen air crystallizing instantly, turning into a translucent, dreamlike sapphire.
A delicate, pale hand descended from the cave’s ceiling, swirling with snowflakes and gathering ice until it grew to a full zhang in size.
As the hand descended, numerous lights flickered across the Underworld Emperor’s body—either life-saving techniques or secret treasures—but all were shattered with a single strike, leaving no escape, no possibility of escape!
Bang!
With a single palm strike, the Underworld Emperor and Zu Ling were crushed into pulp!
Their blood had barely begun to spray before it turned to ice crystals, the formation unable to absorb anything in time!
This… the Soul-Taking Yaksha was half-frozen, half-stunned. Had the Underworld Emperor truly been killed with one palm strike?
Even Meng Qi stood there like a wooden chicken. Was this the terrifying might of Doumu Yuanjun unleashing her full power?
The disparity between a Semi-Dharma Body and a supreme expert was akin to the gap between an Outer View and an Open Aperture practitioner? No, it was even greater! Despite exhausting all his techniques, the Underworld Emperor was like a mere fly—swatted dead with a single slap!
No wonder the Crying Elder had been gravely wounded by Su Wuming’s sword strike, fleeing in disarray and only recovering years later!
If not for the Shen Du Grand Formation preventing Doumu from linking with the heavenly principles and wielding natural forces, how could Gu Xiaosang and those few Outer View experts in formation possibly have resisted Doumu?
Lao Zhongtou, fleeing mid-air, froze mid-flight, the glow from his secret treasure utterly useless.
Bang, he fell to the ground, but the ice was solid, and he did not shatter.
The Soul-Taking Yaksha was shocked, bewildered, and terrified, his eyes fixed on Meng Qi, his expression brimming with resentment and fear, subtly hinting at a plea for mercy.
Just then, he felt himself silently and invisibly ensnared, a cold, damp sensation piercing through his protective qi into his body, making him grow even stiffer, his very thoughts slowing down.
In his hazy perception, he “saw” Meng Qi, slightly shocked, and the one who had captured him—no, not a person, but two corpses crudely fused together!
Poisonous Hand Demon King’s eyes drew closer, like a squinting rooster, his expression dazed, indifferent to the irreparable crack in his being, muttering softly:
“Who am I…”
“Who am I…” Meng Qi’s mind trembled slightly as he thrust out his sword.
He hadn’t even noticed it himself—Poisonous Hand had seized the half-frozen Soul-Taking Yaksha.
“Who am I…” The question echoed in the Yaksha’s mind, his vision darkening as the cold dampness seeped into his very soul.
Sunlight shone brightly, illuminating the two, the crimson sword arriving in an instant, hiding terrifying explosive power.
Poisonous Hand Demon King and the Soul-Taking Yaksha struck each other, using the force to retreat to either side, enduring the radiant sunlight as they spun back into the Auspicious Valley’s Life Gate!
After Doumu struck down Zu Ling, the illusionary formation was also broken!
Meng Qi was about to fly after them, but then hesitated and stayed put. Pursuing a desperate enemy was unwise. The dangers within the Auspicious Valley were unpredictable; it was better to wait for Doumu.
After a single palm strike that killed the Underworld Emperor and Zu Ling, icy coldness spread, and Doumu Yuanjun revealed herself. She was not wearing a mask, her face like a lotus emerging from clear water, her thick, jet-black hair exuding vibrant vitality.
As the ruler of Huamei Villa, entering Bomi to deal with internal matters was a righteous act—no need to use the identity of Doumu.
No wonder she had used the Cold Ice Fairy’s technique earlier… Meng Qi suddenly understood. As for which martial arts Doumu Yuanjun primarily cultivated or what her Dharma Body was like, that remained unknown.
“Miss Ye, Yang Zhen Chan has been eliminated.” This place was eerie, and Meng Qi met her as a martial artist rather than a member of the Immortal Trace, keeping secrets to avoid danger!
Ye Yuqi nodded slightly, indicating she understood.
As she took a step toward Lao Zhongtou, a shadow burst forth from the frozen blood and mud behind her—white hair tied in a high bun, wrinkled face—and dove straight into the Life Gate!
The Underworld Emperor wasn’t dead! Meng Qi’s pupils contracted.
No, his body was semi-transparent—it was his Yuan Shen form!
But even in Yuan Shen form, he should have been frozen and shattered by Doumu Yuanjun’s palm strike!
Ye Yuqi attempted to seize him but was a beat too late, watching the Underworld Emperor’s shadow vanish into the entrance, her expression unchanged: “He seems to have deep connections with this place.”
That was why she had missed slightly.
“He resembles Zu Ling somewhat. Could he be a descendant of Bomi? But weren’t all the people of Bomi wiped out during that ancient calamity?” Meng Qi questioned.
Ye Yuqi didn’t ask Meng Qi where he had obtained the information about the Auspicious Valley, nor did she pursue immediately. Instead, she slowly walked toward the frozen Lao Zhongtou: “There must have been Bomi citizens traveling or wandering outside the country back then.”
“But after so many generations, how could they still bear such resemblance? Could it be a case of atavism…” Meng Qi half-mused, half-joking.
Ye Yuqi stopped in front of Lao Zhongtou, extended her delicate hand, placing it on his crown, icy threads seeping in, completely subduing him.
“He should be a formal member of ‘Mythos.’ Direct interrogation or soul-searching might invite backlash. Let’s proceed step by step, first figuring out his martial arts.” Her eyes, deep like ancient ponds, turned toward Meng Qi. “You circulate the Eight-Nine Art, seeping your true qi into him, while I stimulate his martial arts to activate. You can explore inch by inch.”
His martial art is called the Tianmo Art… Meng Qi muttered inwardly, walking beside Lao Zhongtou, placing one hand on his dantian and one finger on his forehead, letting his true qi seep in. His mind was calm as a lake, merging with the natural world, reflecting Lao Zhongtou’s meridians, bones, and energy points.
Doumu slowly stimulated the Yuan Shen, prompting the Tianmo Art to naturally counterattack. In Meng Qi’s mind-lake, black threads emerged, connecting meridians and points, revealing numerous transformations.
Lao Zhongtou’s body faintly glowed gold—the secret of the Tianmo Golden Body slightly revealed.
The Eight-Nine Art excelled at imitation. Meng Qi gradually grasped the secrets of the Tianmo Art. Although lacking the martial art manual for reference, making the core difficult to understand, he still gained some insights, acquiring its surface aspects. Pretending to be Lao Zhongtou briefly in the future should pose no problem.
This is a glimpse of the Tianmo Four Corrosions… This is the transformation of meridians and points in the Tianmo Paradise… After a long while, Meng Qi withdrew his hands, whispering to Doumu Yuanjun: “Miss Ye, I’ve roughly figured out what martial art this is. It should be the Tianmo Art…”
“The Tianmo Art at the Dharma Body level?” Ye Yuqi didn’t sound like a question but rather a confirmation. There was another Tianmo Art that didn’t even reach the Outer View level.
“Yes, the Tianmo Golden Body.” Meng Qi digested what he had learned, secretly thinking—if not for the danger, he could perfectly impersonate Lao Zhongtou and infiltrate ‘Mythos,’ becoming a mole in a very promising job.
Ye Yuqi, unfamiliar with the Tianmo Art and encountering it for the first time, didn’t elaborate further but turned to Lao Zhongtou again: “Let’s try indirect methods to learn more about ‘Mythos.’ If we can turn him, that would be even better.”
The Six Dao Contracts didn’t prohibit members of Mythos or Immortal Trace from signing contracts with others, as long as it didn’t harm the organization itself. This was a gray area—after all, who said that not harming the organization meant betrayal?
She released part of the seal, allowing Lao Zhongtou to speak.
“You should understand your current situation. If you answer my questions honestly, you still have a chance to live.” Ye Yuqi’s tone was calm.
Lao Zhongtou’s face darkened: “I’ve always believed that life is meaningless if one cannot oppress the weak, slay the strong, indulge in bloodshed, and satisfy every desire. Since I began my path, I’ve committed every atrocity—rape, plunder, stealing others’ power, devouring flesh, torturing souls… nothing evil left undone…”
Was he about to confess? Meng Qi grimaced. This kind of pervert would be better off dead.
“But there is one thing I will never do.” Lao Zhongtou suddenly cackled. “I will never bow or kneel!”
“The Heavenly Emperor is…” he gritted his teeth and roared with laughter.
Doumu Yuanjun tried to stop him, but it was too late. A surge of dark flames erupted from Lao Zhongtou’s body, instantly consuming him.
His laughter echoed far and wide:
“A true man lives not to feast on five cauldrons, and dies having been cooked in them!”
“Born a Tianmo, committing every evil, how can I beg for mercy?”
This pervert was truly rotten to the core… Meng Qi wiped imaginary sweat from his brow.
The dark flames destroyed Lao Zhongtou’s physical body, and his Ji Zi Ring, seemingly sealed, was also consumed in the flames.
Everything turned to ash, leaving only one object behind—a finger bone. At first glance, it was pitch-black, but upon closer inspection, it contained whiteness, appearing ordinary. Yet the fact that it had survived the dark flames at all proved its extraordinariness.
“What is this…” Ye Yuqi picked up the finger bone and examined it carefully but found nothing unusual.
Suddenly, Meng Qi recalled something: “Lao Zhongtou was a defector from the Life-and-Death Unpredictable Sect. It was said he had taken something away—could it be this finger bone?”
“The Life-and-Death Unpredictable Sect’s artifact…” Ye Yuqi pondered for a moment before directly handing it to Meng Qi, secretly transmitting her voice, “If a mission involving this item arises in the future, share it with me. If it’s a usable item, you can keep it yourself, as private compensation for helping Huamei Villa eliminate a traitor and sharing the information about the Auspicious Valley.”
Delighted to gain an item for free, Meng Qi smiled brightly: “Miss Ye, rest assured.”
Who knew what this finger bone truly was…
As soon as he put it away, Meng Qi saw Ye Yuqi heading toward the Life Gate, so he hurried to follow.
As the illusory formation shattered, the carefree flowers by the gate withered, and the two stepped into the Auspicious Valley, treading upon scattered petals.
Inside was cold and damp, but unlike the Death Gate, these forces lacked consciousness and did not attempt to corrode living beings. Meng Qi’s skin was like a divine weapon, effortlessly blocking them without fully activating the Eight-Nine Art.
Drip, drip—cold water condensed from the cave ceiling, constantly falling, making the place feel even more vast and silent.
The deeper they went, the more expansive it became, as if an entire valley had been buried underground.
The two did not rush, walking steadily. After a while, the path suddenly opened, revealing a vast flat area ahead, with distant, motionless black mist.
Meng Qi sucked in a breath sharply, for the flat ground was densely packed with corpses!
Some wore white robes, others black armor, their bodies desiccated into mummies, resembling the patrolling Yin soldiers.
Some stood, some knelt, some lay—various postures, but all exuding cold, deathly stillness, without any rot or stench.
Suddenly, the black mist churned, and a squad of Yin soldiers emerged.
“Are they returning from patrol? Could these be the missing Bomi citizens?” Meng Qi speculated, frowning.
The Yin soldiers scattered, paying no heed to Meng Qi and Ye Yuqi, and each entered their corresponding mummy in utter silence.
Ye Yuqi pondered briefly before kicking a small stone.
Pah! The stone struck the ground, breaking the silence.
The corpses suddenly came alive, like a rising tide!
One by one, they opened their eyes, filled with confusion, uttering long or short, bewildered cries:
“Who am I…”
“Who am I…”
“Who am I!”
The words pierced Meng Qi’s ears, making his scalp tingle!
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