Zhang Ruochen dragged out the Great Saint’s corpse, noticing faint traces of divine power seeping from it, especially from the corroded sections.
A thoughtful look crossed Zhang Ruochen’s face as he mused inwardly, “This Great Saint, when alive, was likely swallowed by that sub-divine beast. His body isn’t naturally decayed— it’s been corroded by the sub-divine beast’s power.”
Then, Zhang Ruochen seized the long sabre clutched in the Great Saint’s hand. A flame surged from his palm, refining the weapon.
“Hiss.”
The rust on the sabre vanished, revealing a dazzling, radiant blade with a chilling edge.
Worthy of a Great Saint’s weapon, the sabre brimmed with potent Great Saint power within.
Zhang Ruochen released his mental energy, probing the sabre’s internal inscriptions to gauge its grade. But as his mental energy infiltrated, a sharp, piercing sound erupted from the blade.
The sabre trembled violently, wrenching free from Zhang Ruochen’s grasp. It transformed into an ice dragon, streaking towards the polar region of War Soul Star.
Rubbing his aching wrist, Zhang Ruochen frowned in surprise, “The weapon’s spirit is so powerful— could it be a sacred artifact above Ten Radiances and Ten Thousand Inscriptions?”
The evil spirit within the Yi Huang Bone Staff spoke, “Who cares what it is? Suppress it first. If I wield this sabre, my combat strength will soar.”
During eight years of seclusion in the Eastern Domain Holy City, the Yi Huang Bone Staff had absorbed vast amounts of Qing Jin’s soul mist, gaining strength rivaling a Path Domain realm expert.
Moments ago, it had also consumed the corpse qi from the Great Saint Corpse King, boosting its power further.
Other cultivators, too, recognised the sabre as an extraordinary weapon. They turned into beams of light, chasing it towards the polar region, eager to claim it.
“These lot— timid against enemies, yet eager to snatch treasures,” Zhang Ruochen muttered.
Wasting no time, he stowed the Great Saint’s corpse and sped after them.
As they neared the polar region, the soil turned blood-red, and a crimson mist filled the air, obscuring the cultivators’ vision.
The monks pursuing the sabre vanished from sight. Zhang Ruochen found himself alone, his mental energy suppressed by the sub-divine beast’s divine aura, limited to probing a few miles around.
“Not good— this makes it easy for the Blood Bee Asura King to pick us off one by one.”
A bad feeling crept over Zhang Ruochen. He considered retreating to regroup with Tianchu Fairy and the others.
“Thud, thud.”
Suddenly, a cacophony of footsteps echoed.
Zhang Ruochen tensed, darting behind a massive boulder. He activated the Buddha Emperor’s prayer beads, masking his presence.
The footsteps grew closer.
A chilling, bone-piercing ghostly aura surged from the distance, resembling dark red dust.
The sound of steps emanated from within that dust.
A troop of yin soldiers and ghost generals emerged from the dark red haze. Nearly a hundred ghost kings alone had solidified physical forms, each resembling a herald of the underworld.
Some ghost kings appeared as handsome men, others as beautiful women, and still others as elderly or children.
Beyond them, some rode corpse king-level war beasts, wielding blood-drenched war lances.
Zhang Ruochen sucked in a cold breath. Were it not for knowing this was Luo Water, he’d wonder if he’d stumbled into the underworld.
Even there, encountering so many ghost kings at once would be rare.
Four towering ghost kings, each three metres tall, carried a sedan forged from white jade at the centre.
The sedan’s curtains, strung with bone beads, clinked together melodiously.
Through the bead curtain, Zhang Ruochen faintly glimpsed a slender black figure— its gender, face, and nature indiscernible, be it human or ghost.
A sacred flower twined around the white jade sedan.
Zhang Ruochen recognised it— the 100,000-year-old ancient sacred herb, Yujin Demon Fragrance, he’d encountered on his first visit to Luo Water.
The Yujin Demon Fragrance boasted formidable mental power, a highly dangerous and malevolent plant.
Zhang Ruochen wondered: Was it the Yujin Demon Fragrance commanding these yin soldiers and ghost generals, or had the black figure in the sedan tamed it?
Abruptly, the blood mist overhead trembled violently. A tall, lean figure crashed down with a “boom.”
It was Yun Gongming, one of the Twelve Luminaries of the Shentian Sect.
In his hand, he gripped the Great Saint Corpse King’s sabre.
But he hadn’t subdued it— the sabre’s spirit was dragging him forcibly to this spot.
Man and weapon clashed in a struggle.
“I, Yun Gongming, refuse to believe I can’t suppress a mere weapon spirit—”
He sensed the bone-chilling aura around him. His peripheral vision caught the yin soldiers and ghost generals in the distance, and his pupils shrank in shock.
“Clang.”
The sabre let out a cry, breaking free from Yun Gongming’s grasp, beyond his control.
Yun Gongming didn’t dare try to subdue it again. He fled at top speed, heart pounding, “So many ghost kings? Could it be, beyond the Blood Bee Asura King, some ghost clan titan has come to Luo Water too?”
A raspy voice emerged from the white jade sedan, “Keep him— I want his saint soul.”
“Whoosh.”
A swarm of ghost kings transformed into a ghostly cloud, rushing towards Yun Gongming.
Thirteen ghost king knights atop corpse king war beasts led the charge, the fastest of the pack.
Yun Gongming’s cultivation was formidable— one-on-one, none of the thirteen knights could match him. His speed was like a streak of light, leaving the ghost kings far behind.
“A master rivaling the Path Domain realm— his saint soul must be delectable.”
A haunting flute melody rose from the sedan.
The sound waves morphed into vortexes, racing out at a thousand times the speed of sound, swiftly overtaking Yun Gongming.
Vortexes, each metres wide, linked into a massive one dozens of metres across, trapping him. The ground shattered in its wake.
“For sonic attacks to reach such a terrifying level,” Zhang Ruochen marvelled inwardly.
The thirteen ghost king knights reached the vortex’s edge, striking with their lances, mercilessly assaulting Yun Gongming.
“Get lost!”
Yun Gongming roared, unleashing a flood of saintly path rules from within. He formed a seal, smashing it into a ghost king knight, shattering its ghostly form into mist.
As he tried to escape the sonic vortex, the other ghost kings surged forward, encircling him.
Ghost kings fell, their forms sundered by Yun Gongming’s saintly power, but his wounds multiplied, saint blood flowing freely until he became a figure drenched in red.
“Splurch.”
The fight ended swiftly. Yun Gongming was pierced through by the ghost king knights’ lances.
Nine lances impaled him, pinning him to the ground. Kneeling, blood poured from his mouth, chest, abdomen, and back— a scene of abject misery.
In his final moment, Yun Gongming roared skyward, struggling to rise, only for another knight to drive a lance through his skull.
Yun Gongming’s strength surpassed even Xian Gongming’s, yet he died so wretchedly. Hidden nearby, Zhang Ruochen felt a chill run through him.
A ghost king knight extracted Yun Gongming’s saint soul, cradling it as it approached the white jade sedan.
The slender black figure within reached out, claiming the soul orb and devouring it.
A powerful wave of ghostly qi erupted from the sedan, sweeping outward, stirring sand and stone across the land. Moments later, the black figure’s aura grew noticeably stronger.
Sensing something, it growled, “Where did that sacred sabre go? There must be a Heavenly Court cultivator nearby— find him.”
As the ghost kings prepared to move, a red sun and a divine river parted the distance. A host of saintly path cultivators rushed towards them.
The black figure in the sedan, wary, abandoned the search for the sabre. It led the yin soldiers and ghost generals away, vanishing into the boundless blood mist.
Only when they were gone did Zhang Ruochen emerge from behind the boulder, holding the Azure Heaven Pagoda.
While the ghost kings had focused on Yun Gongming, Zhang Ruochen had used the pagoda to discreetly capture the Great Saint Corpse King’s sabre.
Tianchu Fairy and the four elders of Tianchu Civilization arrived, wielding the *Red Sun Divine River Painting*.
The painting’s power was immense, dispersing the blood mist in the air. They spotted Zhang Ruochen— and Yun Gongming’s corpse in a pool of blood.
Emperor Ancestor Crown Prince, accompanying Tianchu Fairy, rushed to Yun Gongming’s body. Checking for signs of life, he let out a furious howl, his noble face twisting in rage.
He glared at Zhang Ruochen, “Did you kill Yun Gongming?”
Xian Gongming and several other saint-realm cultivators from the Emperor Ancestor Divine Dynasty appeared beside the crown prince, drawing their sacred artifacts and glaring at Zhang Ruochen with fury.
Zhang Ruochen had already stowed the Azure Heaven Pagoda, replying calmly, “You all know Yun Gongming’s cultivation. With my strength, killing him would be no easy feat.”
Tianchu Fairy stepped in front of the Emperor Ancestor cultivators, asking, “What exactly happened?”
Losing a powerhouse like Yun Gongming so soon after reaching the polar region was a heavy blow to their morale.
Zhang Ruochen patiently recounted everything he’d witnessed.
The cultivators’ faces shifted repeatedly.
If Zhang Ruochen spoke the truth, didn’t that mean another Hell Realm powerhouse lurked in War Soul Star’s polar region?
The yin soldiers and ghost generals had just left, yet potent ghostly qi lingered— undeniable proof of multiple ghost kings.
The Emperor Ancestor cultivators cooled off, stowing their artifacts.
The crown prince said coldly, “Since you were hiding nearby, why didn’t you help Yun Gongming? Watching an ally die— is that what you call teamwork?”
Zhang Ruochen found it laughable. When he’d faced the Great Saint Corpse King, where was the Emperor Ancestor Dynasty’s aid?
He wasn’t a saint— he couldn’t risk his life for those who wished him dead.
Black Phoenix approached Zhang Ruochen, sneering, “Crown Prince, we rushed here as fast as we could at the sound of battle, yet Yun Gongming was still killed in mere moments. That shows how terrifying the enemy was. If Young Master Ruohan had acted, exposing himself, wouldn’t he have died too?”
Knowing Black Phoenix was Qu Shan Old Mother’s martial niece, the crown prince didn’t argue, saying, “The situation’s against us now. We can’t afford any more mistakes.”
Yun Gongming’s grisly death weighed heavily on all the cultivators.
They pressed on towards the polar region.
Black Phoenix sidled up to Zhang Ruochen, transmitting, “My martial uncle says the figure you encountered might be Chang, the ninth son of the Ghost Lord.”
“The Ghost Lord is a titan of the Hell Realm’s ghost clan, having survived twelve ghost tribulations and cultivated the Primordial Chaos Ghost Body. Even Heavenly Court gods tread carefully around him. Perhaps only someone like the Moon God could challenge him.”
“Chang, his youngest offspring, wields a demonic flute. Its notes resound, reaping souls across a thousand miles.”
Zhang Ruochen asked, “Who’s stronger— Chang or the Blood Bee Asura King?”
Black Phoenix replied, “In terms of personal strength, they’re likely evenly matched. Beyond that, the Blood Bee Asura King commands a swarm of Blood Emperor Bees, each rivaling a saint king. Chang, meanwhile, has a host of ghost kings at his side. It’s hard to say who’d win— though the Blood Bee Asura King might edge out slightly.”
Zhang Ruochen hadn’t seen the Blood Bee Asura King’s tactics, but Chang was undeniably formidable. Taming the Yujin Demon Fragrance alone was a feat.
Tianchu Fairy, veiled in white, occasionally glanced at Black Phoenix and Zhang Ruochen. Curiosity stirred within her— what were they discussing?
It itched at her, yet she restrained herself from asking.
Along the way, they encountered corpses of saint-realm cultivators who’d chased the Great Saint’s sabre, slain by unknown beings.
They also met beast-shaped sacred herbs. The Emperor Ancestor Crown Prince, Lion Green Godson, and Fourteenth Prince acted, subduing and claiming them.
Their group grew by five— Que Gonggong, Yue Gongming, and three Nine-Step Saint Kings. Originally sent by the crown prince to seal off Luo Water, they’d returned upon hearing of War Soul Star’s upheaval.
With bolstered strength, the crown prince’s confidence swelled, leading the way.
Naturally, they claimed any beast-shaped sacred herbs they found.
Zhang Ruochen didn’t vie for them, instead pondering whether Master Shenya might also be on War Soul Star.
The answer was clear— he must be.
Before long, a blood lake appeared ahead.
A lake formed of divine blood.
At its centre stood a stone pillar millions of metres tall, like a wall propping up the heavens, vast and imposing, blocking their view entirely.
The divine blood in the lake glowed an eerie red, exuding a daunting, majestic aura.
