Zhou Yihang was cleaved in two by a single sword strike. Along the cross-section of both halves, countless flesh tendrils writhed in the air, reaching desperately toward their other half, trying to rejoin the body.
But his immortality was rooted in the Mud-Pellet Secret Storehouse. Now that Xu Ying's sword had split even that open, his lifeforce was severed—and his undying body collapsed instantly.
The two halves twitched for a moment, the flesh tendrils losing vitality and falling like dead earthworms.
This was the earth-shattering sword strike Xu Ying had comprehended at the temple gate. Bound by his cultivation, he had never been able to unleash its full power—until now. Having entered the Gate-Knocking stage, with the Great Bell no longer stealing his primordial energy, he had finally released the technique's complete might!
This strike was righteous and even-handed, dignified in execution, growing stronger against opposition. The sword energy leaked during Zhou Yihang's execution split four towering trees down the middle, 38,400 leaves, various grasses, and a few strands of hair.
"I shall call this technique 'World Cleaving,'" Xu Ying thought, dispersing the sword energy.
Nearly half his primordial energy had been consumed by this single strike. He carefully retreated, whispering: "Yuan Qi, let's go!"
He sensed something was wrong. Beyond Governor Zhou Heng, others seemed to be watching him with keen interest.
Yuan Qi scrambled onto a floating boulder, slithered to its far end, coiled his body, and sprang—landing on another boulder over a dozen zhang away.
Xu Ying kept his eyes on Governor Zhou Heng, backing away slowly, then suddenly turned and leaped onto a floating boulder.
He sprinted across it, gathering his strength for the final step and launching himself into the void!
Below lay a ten-thousand-zhang drop. The youth's silhouette arced through the empty sky before landing with a thud on a boulder a dozen zhang distant.
Xu Ying rolled several times to absorb the impact, sprang to his feet, and sprinted again, leaping toward yet another floating boulder.
Zhou Heng watched Xu Ying's retreating figure. He was on one immortal mountain while Xu Ying was on another—the distance was too great, though for someone of his cultivation, it posed no real problem.
He was about to act when another figure caught his eye, and he forced himself to hold back.
"Magistrate Ling—he's here too!"
His gaze fell on Magistrate Ling: a tall, thin man like a frail scholar, but wreathed in dense incense energy that coiled around him.
Behind him, within a glowing halo, floated a scroll and an iron brush.
This was Magistrate Ling of Yongzhou.
In the Nether Court, the deity governing a county was called a City God, residing in a temple. The deity governing an entire prefecture was called a Magistrate, residing in a manor.
City God Xue oversaw the spirits of the Lingling region, while Magistrate Ling was his direct superior, commanding all deities across Yongzhou.
Magistrate Ling's full name was Ling Youdao. He and Governor Zhou Heng checked each other's power, and his cultivation was formidable.
Zhou Heng's small eyes narrowed: "Zhou Yihang only opened the Mud-Pellet Secret Storehouse to the second tier, and as an outsider branch of the Zhou family, he had no access to the true teachings. His death is a waste—but even without the true transmission, our Zhou family's Nuo sorcery is extraordinary. It seems what Zhou Yang said is true: Xu Ying is a genius who can decipher demon arts! He's probably already found the path beyond the Qi-gathering stage."
At these words, even the two ox demons pulling his carriage stood upright, turning to look at Xu Ying.
For beings like them, the Qi-gathering stage was the pinnacle of their lives. If someone truly could break through to what lay beyond, it would be a rebirth for demon-kind!
Zhou Heng gazed up at the great temple floating among the mountains, a smile crossing his pudgy face. "Judicial Adjutant, take men and capture him alive. If you can't take him alive, drive him toward the great temple. I'm heading to the temple myself—I'll have a chat with Magistrate Ling along the way."
The Judicial Adjutant was also a Zhou family member, named Zhou Zheng. He bowed: "My lord, what if we encounter Nether Court deities along the way?"
The carefree look vanished from Zhou Heng's face, his expression turning cold: "This Nether invasion—Yongzhou was the first to be hit. It's surely the Nether Court's doing, and Ling Youdao is involved! If those deities obstruct you, kill them without hesitation!"
Zhou Zheng bowed and departed with a contingent of guards.
On the other side, Magistrate Ling was also watching Zhou Heng. He issued orders to several City Gods under his command, and those deities immediately departed with their elite forces.
Neither Zhou Heng nor Magistrate Ling retained many followers. Magistrate Ling smiled faintly at Zhou Heng, then stepped forward—his feet planting on empty air.
The incense energy beneath his feet transformed into clouds, supporting his body so he wouldn't fall.
Magistrate Ling walked forward step by step, clouds forming beneath each footfall, treading the sky at an unhurried pace toward the great temple.
"Cloud-treading and mist-riding? Just a minor trick of sorcery."
Zhou Heng laughed, braced his arms on his throne, and heaved himself up—the fat on his belly rolled like a water balloon. He lumbered out of the carriage to the mountain's edge. Below was boundless sky.
Zhou Heng ignored it, walking straight ahead. Behind him, a golden-winged great roc manifested—fat and enormous, its wings beating. Zhou Heng walked through the air as well.
"The Zhou family's Thirty-Six Heavenly Wonders Hidden Vision Art?" Magistrate Ling raised an eyebrow. "Governor Zhou, how much of the Thirty-Six Heavenly Wonders have you mastered?"
Zhou Heng chuckled: "Why don't you try and find out?"
Xu Ying looked back and saw Zhou Heng's guards in pursuit. Among them, some practiced martial arts, others Nuo sorcery—each with different specialties.
The shamans activated green vines, which grew rapidly, connecting the floating boulders.
In the sky, boulders formed by the collision of immortal mountains were scattered between the peaks like a long ribbon. Simply connecting them with vines created a bridge for rapid transit.
The guards' speed increased dramatically as they closed in.
Then Xu Ying noticed another group also pursuing him, approaching from a different direction.
"Spirits!"
He recognized those towering forms and the ribbons of incense energy. Though he hadn't encountered these particular spirits before, judging by their attire, at least four were City Gods!
The Great Bell wondered: "A-Ying, something isn't right. You're just a minor Qi-refiner—an ordinary person who practices demonic arts to them. Why would they value you so highly? Where did your Primordial Unity Guiding Art come from?"
Xu Ying sprinted forward, leaping toward another boulder: "I don't remember when I learned the Guiding Art. I've had it in my head for as long as I can remember."
The Great Bell asked: "Think—when did you first recall this technique? What happened that day?"
Xu Ying tried to remember. His mind conjured images of his childhood in Xu Family Village—his father, his mother, his playmates, the uncles and aunties on the village streets, their faces vivid and clear.
"I remember my father was Xu Zhigang, my mother was Liu Sanniang. We had a dog and four ducks..."
As he recalled his childhood, a happy smile crossed his face.
Then, in his mind's eye, he saw the street from Wangxiang Terrace—the young schoolteacher and the gentle woman. Though the faces in his memory were blank, they were nothing like Xu Zhigang and Liu Sanniang.
His mind grew muddled.
"Are they my parents? No, that's not right! In my memory, my parents didn't look like that!"
Xu Ying said, "I remember living in Xu Family Village. My father was Xu Zheng, my mother was Yue Rou. I had a happy childhood..."
His head throbbed painfully. He struck his own skull with his fist, groaning, his eyes red.
Yuan Qi gritted his teeth and pushed forward, coiling his body to leap from one floating rock to another.
When Yuan Qi landed, he skidded forward, then immediately began slithering while gathering strength for the next leap. Then he noticed something odd: "Why hasn't A-Ying followed?"
He looked back and saw Xu Ying clutching his head in midair, falling.
"A-Ying!"
Yuan Qi rushed to the boulder's edge and looked down. Xu Ying was plummeting, still hammering his own head with his fists.
Then the Great Bell flew from the back of Xu Ying's skull and caught him.
Yuan Qi exhaled in relief, but Xu Ying's momentum drove the bell downward.
Yuan Qi's heart leaped to his throat. He heard the bell ring repeatedly as it struggled with all its might to arrest the descent before finally stabilizing.
"What happened to A-Ying? Why did he suddenly lose his footing?" Yuan Qi was shaken.
Seeing the Great Bell carrying Xu Ying, he figured there was no mortal danger. He hurried toward the great temple, thinking: "When A-Ying wakes, he'll surely head to the great temple. The temple has immortal protection—I'll wait for him there!"
On the Great Bell, Xu Ying slowly came to, nearly falling off. He grabbed the bell in alarm: "How did I get here?"
He had no memory of what had just happened.
The Great Bell noticed Xu Ying's condition, curious: "A-Ying's brain isn't like a normal person's. Something unusual must have happened to him!"
"Old Bell, stop swaying." Xu Ying straddled the bell nervously.
The Great Bell snapped: "You're dead weight! Do you have any idea how hard it is carrying you? Why don't you try carrying me for once!"
Xu Ying snorted: "It's not like you haven't been carried. When you were injured and unconscious, I held you up—I never let go, even during fights."
The Great Bell shook violently: "You were using me as a weapon to smash people!"
Xu Ying nearly fell off and grabbed on tight.
The Great Bell struggled to fly. After a moment, Xu Ying carefully stood up, planting his feet on the bell's nose, his legs still trembling but standing tall in the wind.
"What are you doing?" the Great Bell asked, puzzled.
Xu Ying stood on the bell's nose as it flew through the air. The youth looked rather dashing—though his hands still shook.
"Riding the bell is undignified. I want to see if I can stand and fly—it feels more impressive that way." He added quietly, "I've been practicing sword flight recently, but I'm afraid of heights. I thought I'd train on you first."
The Great Bell said, "I thought you needed to relieve yourself. Give me a heads-up next time—don't pee into the wind."
Then Xu Ying noticed four stone dragons flying toward them—stone dragons with clawed feet wreathed in clouds that supported their bodies.
The four stone dragons trod upon cerulean vapor, chasing the Great Bell.
Xu Ying frowned. With less than fifty percent of his primordial energy restored, riding the Great Bell left him unable to fight off four stone dragons.
"Old Bell, down to that immortal mountain below!" Xu Ying urged.
A towering immortal mountain orbited beneath them. The Great Bell descended into the mountain's forests. From his vantage point, Xu Ying saw many ancient altars hidden among the trees, flanked by towering statues like silent guardians.
"Strange—if this is the Immortal Realm, why are there statues and altars? The Immortal Realm has no mortals to worship—how could incense energy gather? How could deities be born?"
Could immortals worship gods?
* * *
The Nether Realm. The Nether River. Wangxiang Terrace.
Yuan Tiangang sat before his thatched hut, breathing and cultivating. He noticed a figure approaching along the path—an umbrella of blue paper held aloft.
"This person has appeared again," Yuan Tiangang thought, his tiger-like eyes blinking.
Since arriving here and settling down, he had seen this blue paper umbrella dozens of times. Every so often, this person passed by with the umbrella.
Yuan Tiangang watched him go. The figure with the blue paper umbrella reached the Nether Bridge and joined the queue for Meng Po's soup.
"A strange person." Yuan Tiangang withdrew his gaze.
The figure waited in line for a long time before finally reaching the front.
Meng Po was about to pour tea when she saw this person, and her hand trembled.
From beneath the blue paper umbrella came a calm voice: "Granny, a cup of tea. Make it strong."
Meng Po poured, unable to resist asking: "Upper Official, you've been coming for tea quite frequently lately."
The voice beneath the umbrella was displeased. It accepted the tea: "It's because your brew isn't potent enough. It never fully seals the person's memories. Someone above says you've been diluting it."