The group of Reapers—one genuine captive leading three false ones and a snake-faced monstrosity—inched through the underworld's twilight. Yuan Qi had crawled for a hundred and twenty years; standing felt wrong. He kept toppling back to his belly.
"You'll never escape like this," the captive whined. "The bell and the big one are too obvious. My sect will spot us instantly."
Su Yan believed him. The false Reapers had murdered their own exposed companions without hesitation. This secret ran deep.
Elder Xiao puffed out his chest. "A mere Jianghu sect. How many great Nuo could they possess? Once we escape, mention the Yuan family name and their sect master will kneel to receive us."
"Who are you?" Su Yan asked the captive.
"Cangwu Sect, southern Hunan. We've been hired to gather yang energy from the underworld."
Elder Xiao frowned. "Cangwu Sect is a minor Nuo sect on Mount Jiuyi. They possess no significant heritage. We can handle them."
Veyon shook her head. "A minor sect with hundreds of Masks of the Reaper?"
Each mask required hunting a true underworld Reaper. Two hundred masks meant two hundred slain spirits—a small sect could never afford such wealth.
The captive's voice cracked. "The masks came from the capital! A powerful figure in the capital sent them. We were forced into the underworld. If we refused, our entire sect would be exterminated."
Su Yan and Veyon exchanged glances.
A capital lord had traveled to Yongzhou, found a minor mountain sect, and forced them to harvest yang from ghost-children? Nothing about this made sense.
Then a voice spoke from behind Su Yan: "Why would a capital lord need yang energy?"
Su Yan's scalp prickled. Veyon shivered. "Patriarch Zhou?"
Su Yan turned. A white-browed youth stood there—Zhou Qiyun, smiling faintly.
Veyon went cold. Elder Xiao's fists clenched. *Even if I die here, I must protect the young master.*
He knew the truth. Against the Zhou family ancestor, his death would mean nothing.
Su Yan's face lit up. "Patriarch Zhou! Finally! Your aftershock scattered us. We waited forever! We thought something happened to you!"
Zhou Qiyun's expression remained flat. "I followed the bell's trail. If you'd remained stationary, I would have found you sooner."
Su Yan didn't blush. "I left the trail intentionally. For you."
Zhou Qiyun studied him. "Do the masks thicken skin as well?"
Su Yan laughed and turned back to the captive. "What does this capital lord want?"
"To extend his life. My senior sister saw him consume yang energy. His complexion improved immediately. He also practices some cultivation art requiring vast quantities of yang daily."
Zhou Qiyun's eyes narrowed. "Interesting... which old friend from the capital came to Cangwu? I intended to transcend tribulation in Yongzhou. Someone rushed here without greeting me first."
Killing intent flickered in his gaze. Anyone powerful enough to threaten his ascension was an enemy to be eliminated.
"Su Yan. A mask, please."
Su Yan handed one over. Zhou Qiyun donned it, his features melting into Reaper-form instantly. He flicked his fingers. Nuo arts surged into Yuan Qi's body, compressing his massive frame to normal Reaper size.
"Stand up. Stop crawling."
Yuan Qi stood, walked two steps, and collapsed back to his belly.
Zhou Qiyun exhaled slowly. *If not for my debt to his grandfather, I'd kill this fool.*
He removed Yuan Qi's mask, restored his true form, and pressed a hand to his skull. Power flooded through the serpent's channels, multiplying his cultivation two or threefold.
Yuan Qi tested his new strength. He swelled to a hundred zhang, devouring clouds, then compressed to barely a foot long.
"Thank you, Patriarch!"
"Your ancestors earned this. Not you."
Su Yan opened his mouth. Zhou Qiyun cut him off. "Your ancestors accumulated no virtue."
Su Yan closed his mouth.
Yuan Qi coiled into Su Yan's collar. Zhou Qiyun approached the bell, studying it. "This bell is gravely wounded. That it hasn't shattered is remarkable."
He touched the surface—where the coffin girl's palm print lay hidden beneath repaired bronze. His hand jerked back, eyes widening. "What sorcery!"
The bell shrank and spun into Su Yan's head. "A-Yan! That stingy old man actually healed part of my wound!"
Zhou Qiyun examined his palm. Residual power pulsed there—a palm print from an apex cultivator.
*This boy carries more secrets than he appears to,* Zhou Qiyun thought. *That bell, that palm print... is he truly just a snake catcher from Lingling?*
He crushed the residual energy and said, "Now we won't attract attention. Let's go."
The captive led them through twisting paths until they reached a canyon. Above, a sliver of sky. Below, bottomless darkness.
Su Yan looked down. The canyon walls blazed gold-red, heated to incandescence. Deeper still, the boundary between worlds collided, thundering, heat rising in waves.
He'd seen this before—through his Heavenly Eye, the Abyss alongside the Nether River. Now he stood within it.
*I saw shapes moving in the depths. Rock-like bodies, massive beyond comprehension.*
Against his better judgment, he opened his Heavenly Eye and looked down.
The rock-like forms writhed. Layers of stone-muscle parted. A single enormous eye opened and stared back.
Su Yan's vision went black. When he woke, he stood at the cliff's edge, one foot over the void. Veyon held his collar, pulling him back.
"Gazing upon things that should not be seen invites disaster," Zhou Qiyun said, walking past. "I too have heard the whispers, felt the presences. The deeper you pursue them, the greater the terror."
"What terror?" Su Yan asked.
"You will understand when you achieve true communion with the Dao."
Veyon nodded. "He's right. I heard whispers once, during deep cultivation."
Above, silk threads descended. The masked Nuo masters grasped them and were pulled upward, vanishing into the sky.
Zhou Qiyun's eyes glinted. "A path connecting directly to the underworld, hidden in Mount Jiuyi. Up we go."
They grasped threads. A hooking force seized them, flicked them upward. Wind screamed past. They burst through an invisible barrier—and light flooded their vision.
Su Yan landed among green mountains and clear waters.
A voice thundered from a distant hall: "Why was no yang gathered? Does your entire sect wish to be beheaded?"
Zhou Qiyun's heart skipped. His face went pale.
*The Emperor. The Sacred Martial Emperor himself is here.*