The “water curtain” lifted, and Meng Qi immediately felt as if the world before his eyes had been washed clean by heavy rain, fresh and profound, like the clearest and most delicate black gemstone.
The summit scenery was almost identical to before; the cliff still had a pitch-black pine tree, and beneath it, the same ancient bronze coffin, covered in signs of decay.
Yet beneath this similar exterior lay a completely different sensation. Looking in all directions, Meng Qi could only see winding paths and countless dark peaks, as if an endless number of them had overlapped, covering every possibility. The previously bottomless Nine幽 crack at the base of the mountain had reversed its orientation, now appearing at the cliff’s edge.
It resembled a stitched-up centipede, twisted and grotesque. The gaping wound was seven chi wide and ten zhang long. Opposite, there was nothing but silence and no other scenery—only a mass of indescribable blackness. As Meng Qi gazed at it, his vision was drawn in, unable to pull away, as if it were a faintly swirling vortex, boundless and terrifying, far worse than the previous Dragon of the Nether!
Could it be a black hole that’s gained sentience? Meng Qi inwardly muttered. At the same time, his vision swept over the rest of the scene, almost instantaneously grasping the current situation so he could decide how to act.
The black pine tree swayed slightly despite the absence of wind. Its needles looked like rows of teeth, and its bark was mottled, like the skin of a dying old man—horrifying and repulsive.
The ancient bronze coffin was covered in a thick layer of time’s dust, exuding an ancient, world-worn aura. Signs of decay were visible everywhere, yet unlike before, its texture now appeared slightly illusory. Different spots on the coffin twisted and changed, flashing various demonic scenes. Near the lid, the scenes ceased changing, settling into a few fixed forms: a six-armed black-armored demon, a one-eyed demon with colorful eyes, a faceless cold demon, and a demon shrouded in blood-yellow mist.
The Six Annihilators of Yama, the Great Sovereign of Freedom, and the Yellow Spring Evil God—these nine mighty beings of the Netherworld, capable of making even demons and ghosts weep, were now lifting the coffin lid as if mourning the deceased within the bronze coffin!
And atop the lid, instead of a soul-calming lamp, rested a massive hand, entirely dark and seemingly heavy. Its nails were like swords, extending three cun, glowing with eerie, bloody light. The visible parts of its back were covered in bizarre, chaotic patterns.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Just seeing it, Meng Qi felt his heart race, filled with hatred. Hatred for the heavens and the earth, for people’s joy, for things not belonging to him, for the complexity of karma, for the cruelty of fate, and for his own insufficient slaughter.
Amid this hatred, Meng Qi’s thoughts, ideas, and consciousness became completely chaotic, as if his personality had split into twelve thousand nine hundred different fragments, each entirely distinct.
“Hahaha! With this item, truly I shall be the sole sovereign under heaven!” “Long Ao Tian, die!” “Six Dao, A Nan, you two rats, always hiding in the dark plotting schemes. Dare you come out and fight me properly?” “Eat your mother, you fool! Can’t you even speak like a true warrior?” “Calm down, this is just an illusion!” “If this is an illusion now, then everything before was also an illusion. You never even crossed over—you’ve been in a mental asylum all along!” “You idiot, your SAN is decreasing. You’re about to see an Ancient One, and you’re about to go truly mad…”
Aaaah! Meng Qi clutched his head in pain. In his mind, over twelve thousand voices rose and fell, arguing endlessly, chaos like a boiling pot. No one without such an experience could possibly understand this pain.
Zheng!
The sound of a dragon’s roar and a tiger’s growl rang out as the light of a divine weapon entered Meng Qi’s vision. He suddenly snapped out of it, seizing the brief moment of clarity to activate the Yuanxin Seal. Combining the characteristic of the Immortal Primordial Form to encompass all things, he rapidly absorbed and integrated the fragmented personalities from earlier.
At the same time, he sat cross-legged, one hand pointing to the sky, the other touching the ground. Within his consciousness, a golden great Buddha slowly emerged:
“Under heaven and above earth, I alone am supreme!”
His voice thundered like a bell or drum, echoing outward, transforming into golden swastikas. Each golden swastika bore a golden Buddha seated atop, one hand pointing to the sky, the other touching the ground, proclaiming again and again:
“Under heaven and above earth, I alone am supreme!”
Wave upon wave converged, overlapping and vibrating outward, transforming chaos into order, impurity into purity. Everywhere, clear and bright light spread, pushing back the strange hand’s faint aura to near the bronze coffin, helping Ruan Yushu and Zhao Heng escape from madness and chaos.
Earlier, Meng Qi had stood in front, bearing the brunt of the strange aura’s assault. They had only neared madness, not yet suffering personality fragmentation. Moreover, around Zhao Heng, faint strands of Xuanhuang energy coiled, effectively resisting the chaos through the power of all beings. Around Ruan Yushu, gentle music played, various scenes emerging, as if a heavenly palace had descended. This was the natural reaction of Qin Xin, using the Lánghuán Twelve Divine Sounds to play an anti-demon melody.
They had merely resisted to some extent. Without Meng Qi’s Laozi Divine Palm, they might never have escaped the aura’s corruption, gradually descending into irreversible madness.
Yet Jiang Zhiwei remained calm, seated in the form of the Supreme Sword Immortal. All sword intent and thoughts, emotional or emotionless, held no distinction of worth. Heaven and earth were impartial, making no special distinction for any being.
She controlled everything with a heart transcending all, effortlessly navigating the chaos caused by the aura, affected the least, even more so than Meng Qi.
Specialization in one’s craft… Meng Qi thought instinctively, while recognizing the strange hand:
“The Demon Emperor Claw!”
Since ancient times, the Nine Nether Demon Emperor once ruled supreme as an ancient Primordial Being. Though slightly inferior to the Three Pure Ones, the difference was negligible. He was severely wounded by the Dao Venerable and perished in the Nine Netherworld, leaving behind seven great demonic curses before his death. His body disintegrated, leaving only a single claw—the Demon Emperor’s Claw—which was listed by the Master of the Six Paths as one of the Ten Supreme Divine Weapons!
This secret realm was opened by the second-generation inheritor of the Demon Emperor Claw, the “Demon Lord.” Meng Qi had previously seen the dying images of other inheritors along the way, so he had long suspected the claw was hidden here. Entering, he had prepared accordingly, but he hadn’t expected the Demon Emperor Claw to differ from other divine weapons like the Overlord’s Blade he had seen. Even while dormant, it actively corrupted its surroundings, nearly causing him great harm.
The eerie glow emanating from the Demon Emperor’s Claw coalesced and surged skyward, erupting into a dazzling radiance.
Roar!
A deep voice emanated from the Nine Nether Abyss, brimming with yearning for the Demon Emperor’s Claw. Whoever heard it felt their soul being drawn from their body.
Suddenly, all light vanished from this place, leaving only darkness. The void bent toward the crack. The ancient bronze coffin and the Demon Emperor Claw slowly lifted, drawn toward it.
Meng Qi and the others were like small fishing boats on a vast ocean, tossed by the stormy waves, unable to steady themselves. Especially Zhao Heng and Ruan Yushu, who floated off the ground, no matter how they tried to change direction, were slowly but steadily pulled toward the crack.
To obtain the Demon Emperor Claw, the demon god on the other side of the crack had reached across realms to intervene!
Ruan Yushu played her zither with both hands, producing the sound of a bell, solidifying the changes and resisting the pull. Zhao Heng drew his sword, invoking the Mandate of Heaven, briefly and locally altering the surrounding laws of heaven and earth to resist the force capable of tearing apart mountains.
“We cannot allow the邪魔 to obtain the Demon Emperor Claw, or the great calamity will reach its climax immediately, with no buffer left!” In a flash, Meng Qi made his decision, without hesitation or fear.
(Note: The term “邪魔” is retained in pinyin as “Xiemo” since it appears to be a specific term within the context. If it should be translated differently, please provide clarification.)
Zheng!
The orange-yellow flaming saber roared like a dragon. Meng Qi grasped the long blade, allowing its momentum to carry him like a drifting willow leaf as he soared toward the Nine Nether Abyss. Yet his form grew increasingly massive and unshakable, as though a titan bore Mount Sumeru upon his back. The saber grew heavier with each passing moment—every acupoint embodying the might of the cosmos, every organ resonating with celestial power, his primordial spirit manifesting the force of Primordial Unity, all converging into one.
The “wind” reversed its course as Meng Qi’s blade contended with the Nine Nether Crack for dominance over the air currents. The void quivered.
At this moment, Jiang Zhiwei drew her sword. Her swordlight divided, soon becoming thousands upon thousands, none weaker than the others, all equally terrifying and sharp.
Her sword light did not aim for the Nine Nether rift but instead shot straight toward Meng Qi’s blade.
Meng Qi’s heart stirred. Jiang Zhiwei had fought alongside him for years, and they had often discussed martial cultivation. She had grasped the essence—were they about to perform the “Huanghuang Burial of the Milky Way” together?
Because the Emptiness Return emphasized focusing all power into a single point, if Meng Qi had used the Great Sun Illumination to coordinate the attack, it would not have been perfect, and the final effect would have suffered. Now, Jiang Zhiwei had perceived this and was using her own sword to replace the coordination!
“Then let’s do it!” Meng Qi’s fighting spirit surged. He swung the heavy blade downward, and the black vortex grew larger and larger!
Ding! Ding! Ding! Ruan Yushu’s zither changed tone, instantly boosting Jiang Zhiwei’s aura and strength. Her swordlight grew even fiercer, finally forming a united front with Meng Qi’s blade.
The black vortex and the radiant sun finally met, blade and sword colliding.
The heavens and earth turned pitch-black, devoid of any light, then erupted with blinding white brilliance, expanding violently, flattening the warped void and neutralizing the terrifying pull.
Boom!
Dark mountains collapsed in flames and massive mushroom clouds, the ancient bronze coffin and the Demon Emperor Claw plummeting downward.
…
“The Demon Emperor Claw?” Queen Mother of the West murmured, then extended her hand into the gate, pulling out a phoenix-winged black-gold spear, covered in a layer of destructive flame—the Phoenix-Winged Black-Gold Spear!
“The Demon Saint Spear…” Xi’s eyes narrowed.
“Wait a moment. My demonic avatar will arrive soon. Let’s go there ourselves first.” The Queen Mother of the West shook her long spear, her mask falling away. Her beauty was like a lotus emerging from clear water, utterly enchanting. Her eyes held innocence, yet also the hatred accumulated over countless eons—an extremely discordant combination.
Whoever practices the A Nan Breaking the Precepts Blade Method shall be executed by me, Yaoyao!
Not merely out of misplaced vengeance, but also to prevent A Nan’s return!
“Queen Mother of the West” gazed toward the distant glowing horizon, her body rising into the sky, her silver teeth clenched tightly:
“Unfaithful betrayer, die!”
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