Within the Ancient Tomb Realm, all graves, all white bones, and all disciples fell into silence under Xin Ji’s influence, vanishing without a trace—only the vast, black-and-white glowing bones of the Yellow Spring, the Emperor of the Netherworld’s personal mustard-seed ring, the Brush of Life and Death trapped by Meng Qi’s Void Slash, and the still-battling Arctic True Dragon and the Primordial Divine Corpse remained.
“What a large-scale, devastating area-attack weapon…” Meng Qi thought with a hint of regret.
At this moment, Master Lu lifted the coffin lid, closed the ancient bronze coffin containing Xin Ji’s remains, activated the engraved carvings on its surface, and lit three soul-stabilizing green lamps, placing them respectively at the head, chest, and feet to prevent Xin Ji from transforming into a corpse again.
Meanwhile, Su Wuming’s figure became lofty and untouchable, sword in hand, nearly simultaneously attacking both the Arctic True Dragon and the Primordial Divine Corpse, assisting Yun He Zhen Ren and Xuan Bei from Shaolin to end the battle sooner.
Meng Qi refrained from joining the fray, instead observing the Yellow Spring skeleton before him, which exuded an immense sense of pressure. The skeleton was pitch black, with bony wings on its back, two horns on its head, and a total of 1,296 bones, each emitting a faint white glow—like a glimmer of light in darkness, a thread of hope amidst death. However, four of these bones were different: their blackness tinged with a sinister green hue, evoking a feeling of profane malevolence.
They were the left and right hand bones, a rib, and a toe bone.
“Four Yellow Spring bones are missing. The most crucial one is in my possession, while the other three have fallen into the hands of the Demon Sage…” Meng Qi, recalling the fragmented memories of the Emperor of the Netherworld, understood clearly. He inwardly sneered at the inferior imitation by the Sect of Impermanence, which appeared to be the Emperor’s original bones.
Removing the left hand bone, Meng Qi held his breath, calmed his mind, focused his perception, and cautiously extended the bone toward the skeleton.
As soon as the bone approached the skeleton, it suddenly emitted a brilliant, thick, yellowish-red light, instantly enveloping the surrounding area. A sensation of either scorching destruction or chilling malevolence surged forth, violently repelling Meng Qi.
With the hand bone returning to its place, a series of yellowish-red lights flickered across the vast skeleton, flowing through every joint, causing Meng Qi to feel dizzy and disoriented. His past memories and the imprints of past lifetimes seemed to blur.
The skeleton of the Yellow Spring emanated a yellowish-red glow akin to genuine essence and blood, exuding an omnipresent and majestic aura. The surrounding void split open, faintly revealing the silently surging Yellow Spring River, teeming with countless drifting and sinking spirits and ghosts—their hollow eyes forever barred from rebirth.
At this moment, Han Guang, the “Demon Sage,” watching from atop a nearby mountain, changed expression slightly. A surge of yellowish-red marrow light erupted from his mustard-seed ring, shaking the ground and illuminating the sky.
Sensing this, Meng Qi abruptly turned his head, using the connection between the Yellow Spring skeleton and the remaining bones to spot Han Guang.
So the Demon Sage has indeed arrived! Initially, Meng Qi had contemplated the possibility of a lurking hawk, merely taking precautions against unforeseen circumstances. However, after recalling from the memories of the Emperor of Netherworld that three Yellow Spring Bones had fallen into Han Guang’s possession, he had suspected that the Demon Sage would likely be observing and waiting for the opportune moment.
As Han Guang’s eyes met Meng Qi’s, he sensed the Yellow Spring skeleton’s “summoning” force acting upon the items within his mustard-seed ring. Then, unexpectedly, a formless and shapeless sword light emerged from above, descending from the heavens. He saw Master Lu turn his head.
He Qi was indeed hiding nearby! Narrowing his eyes slightly, Han Guang slowly clenched his right hand, causing ripples to form in the surrounding void, slowing down the invisible sword light. At the same time, three pitch-black bones flew out from his mustard-seed ring, heading toward the Ancient Tomb Realm.
If these bones were seized and trapped by the Yellow Spring skeleton, making escape impossible, it would result in heavy losses!
The yellowish-red glow from the mustard-seed ring vanished. Before He Qi’s slash could land, before Master Lu could swing his sword, Han Guang calmly stepped back, his figure blurring as if stepping into the river of time, vanishing from sight.
The three bones flew into the Ancient Tomb Realm, heading toward the Yellow Spring skeleton and returning to their respective positions. The original few bones detached and disintegrated into dust, as if all their vitality had been absorbed by the skeleton.
Seeing this, Meng Qi smirked: “Even as an observer, you must pay a price!”
The creaking sounds reverberated. At last, the Yellow Spring skeleton was fully formed, trembling as bone spikes sprouted from its joints—white bones streaked with black, each stretching into the void as if linking to countless universes. Then, an ancient, vast, majestic, and sinister aura surged forth endlessly, making even Meng Qi, shielded by the Spirit Treasure Fire Blade, shudder involuntarily.
At this moment, the Yellow Spring skeleton seemed omnipresent, like the laws of heaven and earth, subtle and profound, continuously multiplying, indestructible and immortal, exuding a legendary aura!
…
Boom!
Within the Nine Nether Realms, the blood-yellow river coursed through every layer and hidden realm, flowing silently and eternally, engulfing all that entered its depths. Suddenly, the waters of the Yellow Spring began to boil, surging into towering waves hundreds of zhang high, like a frenzied blood-yellow dragon.
The eternally damned spirits and ghosts gazed upward, letting out piercing cries that shook the riverbanks:
“Our Lord is about to return!”
…
In a certain universe, an ancient city built from ashen-gray stone stood on a desolate plain, attracting many cultivators to explore.
It was said that this place was once the Ghost Capital of the Yama Prince, who governed the deaths of all living beings. Later, for unknown reasons, the Yama Prince suddenly vanished, and the city gradually fell into ruin. No longer were ghost kings or judges seen, nor were there a million ghost soldiers marching through. Only deep secrets and occasional treasures remained.
At this moment, several cultivators stood before the gates of the “Ghost Capital,” preparing to enter, when suddenly the ground shook violently. The ashen-gray stone walls crumbled, releasing waves of ghostly ash. The massive locust tree directly opposite the city gate burst into flame without wind, like a giant incense stick.
Cracks spread across the earth, and countless pairs of eyes—some greenish, some blood-red—emerged from the depths, densely packed, sending chills down the spines of those watching.
They laughed maniacally, shouting in unison:
“The Emperor is about to reclaim his throne!”
Dark clouds gathered, obscuring the daylight.
…
For tens of thousands of years, an ancient and colossal pyramid silently “watched” the undulating river—the very river that nurtured fertile lands on both banks—as if it were the embodiment of gods and demons ruling over humanity in their stead.
Suddenly, the pyramid decayed, its stones turning to mud, collapsing entirely. The priests inside were unharmed, merely covered in decayed mire.
They looked at each other in shock, then heard a dull, grating sound. Turning their gazes, they saw the base of the pyramid crack open, revealing another pyramid beneath—black, deep, with its apex pointing downward.
Black mist drifted from within, and countless scarabs crawled out. The priests were first shocked, then overjoyed, simultaneously kneeling and chanting:
“The great immortal Lord is about to awaken!”
…
In a quiet, lifeless secret realm, two men clad in full black armor stood. They exuded the unique aura of deities—one filled with death, the other seemingly in an eternal slumber.
They looked toward the distant palace, sensing the unrest permeating the void, and simultaneously knelt on one knee, placing their right hands over their chests, as if in solemn chant:
“Hades is about to awaken.”
…
As the Yellow Spring skeleton became fully formed, its aura briefly surged, freezing Meng Qi in place and nearly paralyzing his primordial spirit. By the time he regained his senses, the massive black skeleton had already settled, emitting a faint yellow-red glow—a sign that its owner had long since perished.
Beside Meng Qi stood Master Lu, sheathing his sword, intently observing the Yellow Spring skeleton, deep in thought.
Su Wuming had aided Yun He Zhen Ren in capturing the Arctic True Dragon and assisted Xuan Bei and other monks in sealing the Primordial Divine Corpse. He Qi had just entered the Ancient Tomb Realm. Jiang Zhiwei approached from a distance, having previously maintained her position to observe the shifts in the pivot of heaven and earth, thereby preventing the Emperor of the Underworld from escaping through covert schemes.
Now facing the Yellow Spring skeleton, Meng Qi felt an immediate, sinister chill. It seemed lofty and untouchable, as though common mortals daring to touch it would invite disaster—completely different from the single hand bone or incomplete remains he had encountered before.
Meng Qi took a deep breath, steadied his gaze, and seized the Emperor of the Netherworld’s mustard-seed ring. With a forceful motion, he broke its seal and emptied its contents onto the ground—a pile spanning a zhang in width and as tall as a person, shimmering in a dazzling array of colors that nearly blinded him.
These were all precious treasures—materials, elixirs, and divine weapons, nearly equivalent to twenty to thirty percent of the accumulated wealth of a top-tier sect.
This made Meng Qi sigh involuntarily. The Sect of Impermanence truly possessed immense resources, with the sect leader alone carrying so much. The only regret was the lack of more divine weapons, as most were passed down to descendants rather than buried with the deceased. Only those with extraordinary destiny could obtain such treasures—not mere grave robbers.
More importantly, the Sect of Impermanence had lost several divine weapons during past extermination calamities—whether they were seized by opportunists or consumed as sacrifices by Xin Ji’s remains remained unknown.
“Thank you all, seniors, for your assistance. The Sect of Impermanence has been destroyed, one of the Nine Evil Paths eliminated,” Meng Qi clasped his hands, expressing sincere gratitude, then directly said, “Now that we have such rich spoils, please choose first.”
Although he had relied on his reputation and connections to gather so many powerful allies, Meng Qi had no intention of severing those ties. Reciprocity was the way to maintain enduring relationships.
There was an unspoken understanding about dividing the spoils—knowing the leader’s preferences, others would deliberately avoid selecting those items, and there was a default order for selection.
In an instant, all eyes turned to Master Lu.
Master Lu smiled gently: “An old man needs only his sword and himself; I require no external objects. However, as the lord of Huamei Manor, I must secure some resources for my disciples and descendants.”
He pointed at the pile: “I shall take three-tenths.”
“Not enough, not enough. Senior should take at least half!” Meng Qi shook his head like a drum, knowing this was the main force choosing the least valuable portion.
Master Lu’s expression remained calm: “Then four-tenths. If I ever wish to ‘test my sword’ against the Yellow Spring skeleton, you must not refuse.”
The implication was clear—the Yellow Spring skeleton belonged to Meng Qi.
“This junior would be delighted.” Meng Qi smiled.
Master Lu glanced at the bronze coffin containing Xin Ji’s remains, hesitating slightly: “The remains of a sage must not be desecrated. Perhaps we should choose a good place for reburial.”
“If other places risk further grave robbery, why not bury him near Huamei Manor? Under the lord’s watch, Xin Ji will not be disturbed, and scholars from Chang Le Academy can openly come to pay their respects,” Yun He Zhen Ren suggested. He was no stranger to Xin Ji, having studied both the “Middle Ancient History” from the Ink Palace and thoroughly understood the current state of the main world.
None of Meng Qi’s companions objected, because if they guarded Xin Ji’s remains themselves, a corpse transformation would mean certain doom. Meanwhile, Su Wuming’s ability to be “everywhere” made it much faster for him to travel from Xi Jian Pavilion to Huamei Manor than vice versa.
After reaching an agreement, Master Lu took forty percent of the treasures from the Emperor of the Netherworld. Next, Su Wuming said indifferently: “I shall take forty percent as well.”
He had no interest in corpses.
No one objected. When it came to Yun He Zhen Ren, he scanned the pile with bright eyes, seemingly reluctant to choose, finally saying with great effort: “This old Daoist wants the True Dragon corpse.”
It could be used to forge many fine treasures!
“Agreed!” Before he could continue, Meng Qi decisively cut him off with his approval, putting an end to any further discussion. Then, he turned to Xuan Bei and said, “Master, this Primordial Divine Corpse resembles a pseudo-Yellow Spring evil deity, perpetually surrounded by the forces of life and death. It can aid in mastering the ‘Mahavairocana Pacifying Demon Fist.’ Moreover, it is steeped in resentment and obsession, making it precisely the kind of entity that requires Buddhist teachings to resolve and liberate.”
Knowing his disciple’s intentions, Xuan Bei recited “Amitabha” and said: “That would be excellent.”
After the Shaolin monks sealed the Primordial Divine Corpse, He Qi looked around gratefully, realizing that Master Lu, Su Wuming, and Xuan Bei had all yielded to him.
The Donghai Sword Manor had shallow roots, and He Qi’s lineage cultivated the Formless and Shapeless Sword Qi. Apart from the earlier Dharma Body transformed into a sword talisman and the protective sword formation surrounding the manor, they possessed no divine weapons. The closest they had was the Sword Gu Talisman. Thus, they had remained secluded in the East Sea. Now, Master Lu, Su Wuming, and Xuan Bei had deliberately left the Brush of Life and Death for He Qi.
After He Qi collected the brush, Meng Qi smiled toward Jiang Zhiwei: “Now it’s your turn.”
They had been the backup, each with their own roles to play.
Jiang Zhiwei glanced at him, understanding his thoughts, and gathered the remaining twenty percent of the items without hesitation. After all, usable items were shared freely, and merit points could be exchanged.
After distributing the spoils, Meng Qi turned to the massive Yellow Spring skeleton, its blackness flowing with white, its malevolence mingling with divinity.
The remains of a legendary cultivator! This was the primary material for forging a peerless divine weapon!
After collecting the skeleton, the group departed from the Ancient Tomb Realm, leaving the place truly lifeless.
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