Chapter 1291: Netherworld

The boundless black mist obscured all directions in this vast sea, where no sound could be heard—only the ghostly ship sailed on its own.

It was eerie. The sea seemed endless, yet not a ripple stirred, as if it were a sea of death, unnervingly silent.

Standing on the black bone-like vessel less than ten feet long, Shi Hao wore a grave expression, staring at the bloodstains on the ship’s walls before turning his gaze to the lifeless sea.

He felt uncertain. He hadn’t asked others in detail about what to expect when crossing these waters. Was this normal?

At the very least, the black ship bleeding was anything but ordinary. Surely, no one else had witnessed such a thing.

*”Is there something on me that resonates with it?”* Shi Hao muttered to himself. Otherwise, why would such a change occur?

Unease crept into his heart. The ghost ship was sailing autonomously—was its true destination still the Stone Forest of the North Sea? He couldn’t be sure. If something sinister happened in this vast, desolate sea, it would be nearly impossible to handle.

*”What does this blood smell like? It’s fishy, but there’s also a faint fragrance,”* the golden ant on Shi Hao’s shoulder remarked before leaping down.

Shi Hao was speechless. The descendant of the Ten Calamities had such a peculiar perspective—while he was still worried, this little guy was acting so carefree.

*”Why don’t you taste it?”* Shi Hao retorted irritably.

*”Clang!”*

Though the golden ant was less than an inch long, it effortlessly pulled out a bronze cauldron the size of a human head. Clearly, it possessed extraordinary abilities, capable of storing vast objects within its tiny body.

*”Refine some of it!”* With a flick of its finger, a few drops of black-red liquid splashed from the ship’s wall into the cauldron.

*”Mighty Immortal Flame, burn away all evil!”* The golden ant shouted, spewing a golden beam from its mouth that transformed into flames, roasting the cauldron.

Despite its small size, the flames it produced were formidable, instantly raising the temperature to a scorching degree. The air distorted, crackling violently.

Soon, the cauldron turned red-hot and translucent.

This cauldron was special—originally bronze-green, it now resembled glazed glass, revealing intricate patterns within.

These were the ancient runes of the Immortal Dao, forming the cauldron’s internal structure—complex and profound.

*”Pfft!”*

A plume of black smoke rose from the cauldron, reeking of decay, nauseating to the extreme.

Shi Hao and the ant quickly retreated. Though the smoke was sparse, its corrosive power was terrifying. The surrounding mist sizzled, and the air itself cracked under the terrifying energy it released.

Even the usually carefree ant was stunned.

*”This is insane! Is this the cursed residue of a blood drop from an immortal-level being?”* the ant muttered.

Shi Hao was even more shocked. Just a few drops of blood from the ship’s wall had such power.

Clearly, this was residual poison. What must it have been like in its prime? Unimaginable—a single drop could have annihilated the mightiest experts of this era.

Inside the cauldron, a single crimson drop of blood remained, faintly spiritual but devoid of life force, exuding a subtle fragrance.

This was treasure blood!

Undoubtedly, it had once been incredibly precious, but after countless eons, its essence had dissipated. Only a ten-thousandth of its original power remained.

Yet even so, this drop of blood still contained terrifying power.

Shi Hao stared intently, seeing stars swirling within—visions of the past, where chaos churned and massive celestial bodies collided and exploded in the cosmos.

It was awe-inspiring!

The ant grew nervous, also fixated on the visions within the blood.

*”Boom!”*

A deafening roar seemed to echo in their ears, filled with despair. Then, a golden spear pierced through the universe, impaling a mighty being.

A trail of blood splattered across the starry expanse, each drop like a supreme weapon, shattering countless colossal stars in its wake.

Just a few drops of blood had obliterated ancient, massive planets—utterly annihilated.

*”Heavens! That’s terrifying! Not much weaker than my father, right?”* the golden ant exclaimed.

Shi Hao’s face paled, his spine chilling. What kind of battle was this? The mere blood of a slain being had destroyed so many stars—it was mind-boggling.

A single drop could annihilate a starfield, cutting down hundreds of massive celestial bodies!

This was a myth among myths, utterly horrifying.

*”Even diluted countless times over, this blood still retains such imprints, carrying information from ancient times. It’s extraordinary!”* the ant said.

Shi Hao gestured for it to taste the blood.

It shook its head arrogantly. *”What blood could compare to my Supreme Force Blood? Even a True Dragon’s heartblood might not match it!”*

*”True. Let me examine it—I’ve never seen Supreme Force Blood before,”* Shi Hao said with a faint smile.

*”Back off! Don’t even think about it!”* The ant glared, suddenly wary.

Despite the eerie atmosphere—the silent, boundless sea like a forbidden zone—their banter lightened the mood somewhat.

Shi Hao studied the blood drop carefully, but no further discoveries emerged. It gradually dimmed, falling silent.

Time passed swiftly. Three days later, the mist in this sea grew thicker, dense enough to render even divine sight useless.

They had entered a demonic realm. The ocean was unfathomably deep, yet massive bones occasionally breached the surface.

What kind of cursed place was this?

Legends said the ghost ship’s route never passed through such a location. This wasn’t their intended destination.

Occasionally, half-circular bones emerged—upon closer inspection, they were skulls, colossal beyond measure, spanning the sea.

*”How enormous must these heads have been in life? They could’ve touched the heavens!”* the ant marveled.

Shi Hao’s expression darkened. It felt as though they were traversing a passage of death, crossing the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths to enter the underworld.

Otherwise, how could such horrors exist?

Gigantic arm bones jutted from the sea, piercing the clouds. The scene was surreal.

One could only imagine the ferocity of the battles fought here. The fallen must have been supreme beings—any one of them alive today would shake the world!

Here, the power of time was palpable. So many peerless figures had met tragic ends, reduced to mere bones in the river of history.

Shi Hao couldn’t help but wonder—where would he be in a hundred million years? Just another pile of bones?

The future loomed ominously. Signs pointed to a cataclysmic era—the collapse of heavenly order, the invasion of foreign beings, ushering in the darkest age in history.

When the next epoch began, how many of his generation would remain? Would they all turn to dust in the annals of time?

He vividly remembered the ruins of the Immortal Battlefield, where ancient giants had crossed the river of time to kill him. A woman in white had ascended against the current to aid him.

Was she from the future? Would they meet again?

Or was that intervention merely a coincidence, a fleeting trigger?

The darkest turmoil, the most brutal era, was coming. Shi Hao had no idea what fate awaited him.

*”Hmm?”* Suddenly, as he pondered, a violent tremor shook them—they had left that region.

The sea and sky merged into one, vast and open. Azure skies met crystalline waters, breathtakingly beautiful.

One moment, they were shrouded in black mist, surrounded by death and skeletal remains. The next, everything had changed.

The contrast was staggering!

*”Where have we come to?”* The golden ant craned its neck, bewildered.

The serene blue sea, brimming with spiritual energy, was nothing like the North Sea Stone Forest. Frowning, Shi Hao had no mind to appreciate the tranquil scenery.

The ghost ship’s bleeding had indeed led them astray—into a mysterious land. He couldn’t fathom why his experience differed from others’.

This time, the ghost ship moved swiftly. In less than half an hour, it carried them into a hazy realm.

Here, everything defied logic, unlike anything they’d seen before.

A golden sun hovered just above the water, radiant and holy. Within it, a Golden Crow lay dormant.

This was an ancient sun, forged from the corpse of a primordial Golden Crow that once ruled the heavens. It bore no deathly aura—only warmth and sanctity.

Above, mountains hung upside down, their peaks pointing downward. Trees grew inverted, their canopies stretching toward the sea.

Even the land was inverted, a mirror image of the world below.

The sun clung to the sea, far from the sky. Flora grew upside down in the firmament, while primordial beasts roared, walking inverted on the celestial dome.

It was a topsy-turvy world, the opposite of theirs.

An inexplicable realm, a place of wonder and confusion.

The golden ant stretched its neck, gaping in astonishment. What kind of world was this?

*”Boom!”*

Suddenly, thunder roared, as if to shatter souls!

It came without warning, shattering the peace.

The ghost ship, gliding smoothly, had inexplicably entered this thunderous domain.

Amid the azure expanse, a breathtaking sight lay ahead.

A vortex like a volcanic crater stretched from the heavens to the sea—an inverted whirlpool, not sucking things into the depths but spiraling them into the sky.

Billions of lightning bolts encircled this “eye of heaven and earth.”

Earlier, there had been no sound. Only upon entering did the deafening thunder strike, shaking the soul, threatening to tear the mind apart.

The ant clutched its head, howling in pain. This place was too sinister—it couldn’t endure!

Shi Hao’s brow throbbed as if a blade pressed against his soul, sharp and unstoppable.

*”What is that?”* Gritting his teeth, he focused on the vortex connecting heaven and earth.

Within it, the power of time was overwhelming—fragments of eras swirled densely.

*”The force of time! I’ve never seen such terrifying temporal power!”* The ant’s face paled.

Time was a dreadful force, prone to triggering calamities. Even its father, one of the Ten Calamities, had feared it.

Yet in this world, such concentrated temporal power occasionally emerged. Though rare, such zones had to be avoided!

At that moment, a terrifying force from the vortex tugged at Shi Hao and the ant, pulling them inward.

*”No!”*

The golden ant screamed in terror. Shi Hao’s hair stood on end—this was dire.

*”I don’t want to go back to prehistory! This damned vortex is woven from time itself! Once trapped, who knows which era we’ll end up in? I don’t want to die!”*

According to its father’s records, those caught in such a vortex would age to death mid-journey unless their power surpassed the era’s limits. Or worse—they’d vanish, lost to the “cycle of reincarnation”!