Storm Mountain is a colossal peak located in the northeast corner of the Netherworld. From a distance, only its midsection is visible, while the rest pierces straight into the dark clouds, obscuring its upper half from view.
The mountain is entirely composed of barren black stone, devoid of any vegetation. Starting from a height of over a thousand zhang, fierce Netherworld winds begin to howl across its slopes. Ordinary people wouldn’t even dare to climb further—merely stepping onto the mountain could turn them into black ice sculptures.
Such a harsh environment makes the area around the mountain even more sinister and terrifying. Arcs of lightning flicker and crackle incessantly in the sky, while frigid winds roar across the ground, whipping up sand and stones as if one had stepped into a ghostly realm.
Despite its overwhelming Nether Qi, this place is a favored haunt for powerful Nether Beasts. Several extremely ferocious ones have long dominated the vicinity. Yet on this day, Storm Mountain received unexpected visitors.
The corpse of a massive beast, standing thirty to forty zhang tall, collapsed heavily to the ground amidst a flash of silver light. Its body rapidly withered and shrank, losing all vitality in an instant. Then, the silver light, carrying a dense mass of black Qi, swiftly flew away into the distance.
A mighty roar echoed through the heavens, shaking the earth with its resonance.
Following the sound of something heavy landing, a ten-zhang-tall silver ape appeared beside the Nether Beast’s corpse after a few leaps. The ape was ferocious and imposing, its every movement exuding an indescribable, awe-inspiring aura. On its shoulders sat a man and a woman—none other than Han Li and Mei Ning.
Han Li swept his gaze over the Nether Beast’s corpse, then lightly patted the ape’s shoulder and floated down. A cold flash of light later, the beast’s skull was split open—but it was empty inside.
A faint flicker of disappointment crossed Han Li’s face, but he quickly regained his composure.
By now, he had amassed over a hundred Nether Beast Crystals. Though he knew lower-tier Nether Beasts still carried them, he no longer had time to hunt them all down. He needed to scale Storm Mountain before the next spatial rift opened.
Mei Ning then leaped down from the ape’s shoulder. In a flash of silver light, the massive ape shrank to a mere foot in size—revealing itself as the Soul-Crying Beast, though its fur remained an unchanged silver-white.
Han Li turned and smiled faintly at the sight of the transformed beast.
In recent days, he had taken the Soul-Crying Beast to hunt powerful Nether Beasts. After devouring countless Nether Beast souls, it had suddenly gained the ability to transform into a giant ape, and soon after, its fur had turned this striking silver hue.
This development surprised even Han Li. According to the jade slip Yuan Yao had given him on refining the Soul-Crying Beast, the true version of the beast lacked such transformative abilities, and its fur was supposed to turn pitch-black upon advancement.
However, this particular beast was an incomplete product, never fully refined. Moreover, the Nether Beast souls in this realm seemed vastly different from ordinary souls outside. These two coincidences had led to this unique evolution.
It wasn’t a mutated spirit beast in the conventional sense, but it was undoubtedly an unprecedented transformation.
Though he didn’t know whether this evolution would surpass the true Soul-Crying Beast, Han Li was pleased to see it continue. After all, the refinement process for the genuine beast was far too bloody—even Han Li, no saint himself, found it difficult to follow through.
Now, the shrunken Soul-Crying Beast shot into Han Li’s sleeve in a silver streak and promptly fell into deep slumber.
Han Li smiled slightly before turning his gaze toward the distant Storm Mountain, his expression turning solemn.
The few remaining powerful Nether Beasts near the mountain were no match for the current Soul-Crying Beast. The one they had just slain was the last of them. Now, they could ascend the mountain unimpeded.
“Let’s go. We must reach the summit before the next rift opens, or we’ll have to wait several more months,” Han Li said slowly, his eyes fixed on the towering peak.
“Brother Han is right. Though the rifts’ openings vary in duration, the locals have discerned their general pattern. The next one will appear in just over half a month. If we miss this chance, we’ll have to wait another six months,” the beauty beside him agreed, her snow-white neck shrinking slightly from the cold as her apricot lips parted.
Han Li chuckled faintly and strode toward the mountain with her in tow.
Within a quarter-hour, the two stood at the foot of Storm Mountain.
From afar, it hadn’t seemed extraordinary, but up close, its sheer scale was staggering. A solitary, barren peak, impossibly steep and stretching over ten li in breadth, rose straight into the heavens.
Instead of rushing to climb, Han Li led Mei Ning in a brief survey before choosing the most accessible route. Soon, their figures became mere specks against the mountainside, gradually vanishing into the towering cliffs.
The first thousand zhang posed little challenge, but beyond that, the biting Netherworld winds began to howl, growing fiercer with every step upward.
Both Han Li and Mei Ning donned multiple layers of fire-attribute beast-hide garments, yet their faces still turned pale, their skin stinging from the cold. An ordinary mortal would have frozen solid in moments.
After advancing only a few dozen zhang into the wind, Han Li frowned and halted. After a moment of contemplation, he retrieved a fist-sized white pearl from his robes. It emitted a soft glow, enveloping them in a protective barrier.
Strangely, the raging winds weakened significantly upon contact with the light, becoming almost gentle. This was an exceedingly rare Wind-Repelling Pearl. Though the cold remained, their beast-hide attire now sufficed to endure it.
They pressed on cautiously.
After a long trek, frost-covered rocks appeared around them, and the ground grew treacherously slick, forcing them to proceed step by step with extreme care.
Their breaths came in visible puffs, and Mei Ning’s delicate face flushed red as she gasped for air.
After an arduous journey, they found themselves amidst a gleaming glacier, where all rocks were encased in thick black ice. The slope grew abruptly steeper, and a single misstep could send them tumbling down the cliffs.
By now, they had wrapped their feet in rough scaled hide to maintain traction, yet they still slipped frequently, progress becoming grueling.
“Let’s rest beneath that boulder and regain our strength before continuing,” Han Li suggested, glancing at the shimmering ice ahead and sighing. Though Mei Ning hadn’t spoken, he could see her stamina was nearly spent.
Relieved, she nodded weakly.
The “boulder” was a massive, tilted rock over ten zhang high, serving as a perfect windbreak. They hurried toward it.
At the boulder, eerie mists swirled, accompanied by strange howls that reduced visibility to nothing. Han Li and Mei Ning moved cautiously, each wearing a thumb-sized bead on their wrists that emitted a faint blue light, shielding them from the encroaching gray fog.
“Without Brother Han’s Bàluó Pearls, even if we survived the winds, these strange mists would have been our undoing,” Mei Ning murmured, eyeing the fog warily.
Han Li smiled, about to reply, when his expression suddenly shifted. He stopped and listened intently.
Mei Ning, startled, fell silent at once.
“Be careful. Someone else is approaching through the mist,” Han Li said coolly. A flash of blue light later, a pair of small azure swords slipped from his sleeves into his grip. He stared fixedly in one direction, silent.
Mei Ning’s eyes widened in shock, but she trusted Han Li implicitly. She retreated two steps soundlessly, her gaze locked on the same direction, tension written on her face.
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