Chapter 435: A Sigh
The Netherkin race was up to something!
Kirin could clearly sense that much.
From the very beginning, in the Nascent Soul battlefield, the Netherkins had been suppressed and pushed back by the cultivators of the Immortal Nation.
Especially among those in the early stage Nascent Soul realm—several early stage Nascent Soul realm Netherkin had already been slain, and there was even a case where several early-stage cultivators joined forces to kill a mid-stage Nascent Soul realm Netherkin.
But only now did the cultivators of the Immortal Nation begin to faintly sense that something was wrong.
As more and more Netherkins with "exposed flaws" were cut down, the early-stage Nascent Soul cultivators of the Immortal Nation were unknowingly being drawn together into the same area!
'They used the lives of their Nascent Soul Netherkins as bait?'
What were the Netherkins trying to do?
Kirin was certain this wasn't a coincidence.
"There's something wrong… From just now, more and more of our people have been gathering here…"
Beside her, Night Crow—wearing a feathered mask—also sensed the anomaly, his voice low and grim.
The gloomy-looking Xuan Ming said nothing, quietly building up his power. The cautious way he moved clashed oddly with his eccentric, punkish appearance.
This time, only the three of them from the Six Gate Bureau had been deployed. Under the Empress's orders, their duty was merely to assist with seal resonance techniques and guard the battlefield's periphery.
Since the overall situation had been going well, it hadn't seemed like a difficult task.
And precisely because of that, they were the first to notice something off—the Nascent Soul battlefields were gradually shifting toward their "support" position on the outer rim.
Many cultivators of the Immortal Nation, flush with the thrill of victory after slaying their Netherkins opponents, hadn't realized this at all.
'Do the Netherkins have another scheme? Some technique to destroy us in one blow?'
Even with the protection of the Human Emperor Sword, sheltering such a large number of Nascent Soul cultivators would surely come at a massive cost.
As Kirin thought this over, her hand subconsciously brushed her waist.
A bad feeling rose in her heart.
That feeling had been lingering since the night before last—ever since she had failed to locate a certain Holy Saint of the Demon Sect.
Why had that calculating young man disappeared?
What was the plan he had wanted to carry out with her?
Could it be related to what she had encountered that night?
As her thoughts churned, a sudden change erupted before her eyes.
A winged Netherkin, driven into this area while fleeing for its life, let out a shrill, sorrowful cry. Its power suddenly boiled over—its entire body glowing red, tail feathers shining brightly.
It seemed to have reached a dead end, preparing to make a final desperate stand.
With a violent flap, it burst forth, shaking off the encirclement of the cultivators and rushing straight toward the denser cluster of people.
"Stop it! It's going to self-destruct!" A cultivator shouted nearby.
Another reacted instantly—sword-light and sword energy slashed across the air, striking the winged Netherkin.
"Wait—!"
Kirin barely managed to utter a single word before she saw the Netherkin's head severed, its torso split apart.
The swelling nether energy leaked out uselessly—the blast never came.
But at that very instant, her sense of dread reached its peak.
If it were only a single Nascent Soul Netherkin self-destructing, even without the Human Emperor Sword's protection, it wouldn't have been enough to harm so many cultivators.
In fact, the response had been textbook—a perfect reaction under normal circumstances.
Sever the head to break consciousness, rupture the core to release uncontrolled spiritual energy—the cultivation world had long since developed standard countermeasures for such suicidal techniques.
And yet… was it really fine this time?
'Judging by how decisively they acted, none of them seem to have felt the Nascent Soul's danger premonition…'
But she had.
Kirin vaguely grasped something—but couldn't yet put it together.
Until, in the very next moment, she saw it—a wisp of red smoke drifted from the glowing tail feathers of the slain Netherkin.
That red smoke was eerie and otherworldly.
Anyone who saw it would, in that instant, glimpse the rise and fall of all living beings—the joys and sorrows of mortal life—only to forget it all a heartbeat later, even forgetting that they had ever seen the smoke.
To see, and then to forget…
The strange sensation left the surrounding cultivators momentarily dazed.
And then—from every nearby Netherkin corpse that had been slain, the same red smoke began to rise.
And the Netherkins who were still locked in nearby combat all let out a mournful cry at once. Their foreheads split open, tendrils of smoke drifting from the wounds as their vitality rapidly faded, as if life itself would soon be severed.
The escaping red smoke merged together, spreading at tremendous speed and enveloping every cultivator within that area.
Then, as though sensing something, the crimson mist suddenly began to contract sharply toward a single point.
Instinctively, all the cultivators turned their eyes that way.
There, amid the gathering smoke, stood a masked woman.
The red mist churned around her form, then slowly began to tighten—and the strange, mystical aura radiating from it was even stronger than before.
Within arm's reach, the mortal world unfolded in all its vastness.
"So that's how it is…"
A soft whisper drifted through the air. The space rippled—and both the red smoke and the woman vanished.
. . .
A scarlet void.
The massive black flood dragon slowly opened its eyes. The madness reflected within those blood-red pupils faded somewhat, replaced by a measured calm.
"The loss of my primordial spirit… has been compensated, even if barely," it murmured.
As it spoke, its gigantic form began to shrink, condensing until it became a tall, muscular figure draped in a black robe.
"I wonder how the battle outside fares… Those two fools haven't forgotten the Netherking's orders, have they? Don't tell me they still haven't brought in that human Nascent Soul cultivator we were after?"
"Speaking of which… it's only a single human Nascent Soul. Why does the Netherking place such importance on her? He even insisted on causing chaos first, waiting to seize the target before taking action. With his strength, facing the current Immortal Nation—leaderless since the disappearance of the former Emperor—should he not be able to suppress it with ease? Or…"
"Could it be that this is someone else's demand—one of the great powers of the Demon Spirit Realm?"
A draconic shadow rippled faintly across the man's black robe as he spoke. Suddenly, the flood dragon's scarlet eyes narrowed—he felt a stirring in the air.
From the spot he had been monitoring, a figure began to materialize within a swirl of red smoke.
Wearing a mask patterned with scales, Kirin slowly raised her head within the haze, meeting the dragon's blood-red gaze that shone from beneath the hood.
She appeared calm—nothing like someone who had fallen into a trap.
From the moment she first saw that wisp of red smoke, she had already understood the source of her earlier unease.
'The Netherkins' true target… was me, from the very beginning.'
That was why no other cultivator had felt the same sense of danger—only a vague wrongness.
This was a trap designed solely for her—for the Mortal Alter Ego of the Empress herself.
And the issue hadn't been the self-destructing winged Netherkin. Whether that Netherkin lived or died was irrelevant; the moment that red smoke spread and her Mortal Alter Ego was present, she was destined to be drawn into the formation.
'No… even if I hadn't been there, they likely could have found me—using "it"—by scanning for the one who hadn't yet appeared among the Immortal Nation's chosen.'
Miss Kirin's eyes flickered as she looked at the red smoke slowly merging into her body.
Few in this world understood what this smoke was better than she did.
It was the essence of the Mortal Dust itself.
In the Trinity of Pristine States technique, there were many possible paths for manifesting the technique user Alter Ego, each requiring a different cultivation technique.
To form the Mortal Alter Ego, one had to cultivate the power of the Mortal Dust—to dwell among the people, to experience their joys and sorrows, and through that comprehension, to solidify one's mortal form.
As long as her mortal body walked the world, it would naturally draw in and refine the worldly smoke and fire—the emotions, struggles, and essence of mortal life—using them to perfect her Alter Ego.
This process was beyond her control. From the very moment her Mortal Alter Ego was born, the Mortal Dust gathered around her, flowing toward her of its own accord, as naturally as breathing.
But she had never imagined someone would use this very trait against her—that someone could weaponize it to locate her most hidden Alter Ego.
Let alone reproduce it; even she herself could not manifest Mortal Dust in tangible form, let alone conceal techniques within it, manipulate space, or set traps using it.
'Could there be someone behind the Netherkin race—someone who also cultivates the power of the Mortal Dust, and whose mastery surpasses my own?'
If that were true… then she had no choice but to admit she'd been outplayed.
But why target her?
Even if the Netherkin race somehow learned of her Trinity of Pristine States cultivation, what benefit was there in going after her Mortal Alter Ego so specifically?
Only one who sat upon the throne of the empire could contain the luck of an entire race—that was the power of the Imperial Alter Ego.
And yet, even when facing her Imperial Alter Ego, the Netherkin race had never fought as fiercely as they now did against her previously hidden Mortal Alter Ego.
Something was definitely wrong.
But this was no time to dwell on that.
Kirin could already feel it—the moment she appeared within this strange realm, a powerful formation had activated around her, sealing her in like an invisible cage.
Her spiritual energy was heavily suppressed, and from within, the formation revealed almost no flaws; breaking out from the inside would be nearly impossible.
And that was only the beginning.
'A Divine Transformation realm…'
Her gaze deepened as she looked at the figure beyond the array.
But then, for some reason, a flicker of surprise flashed through her eyes—followed by quiet contemplation.
At the same time that she studied the black-robed man—the transformed flood dragon—he was also casually sizing her up.
So this was the human the Netherking wanted captured?
"Hmm… it's just a frail human after all. Did we catch the wrong one?"
The black flood dragon's voice was low and cold. "No matter. The Netherking will judge that for himself, and even if we did catch the wrong one, the blame won't fall on me."
He paid little heed to the mortal woman sent into this place.
From the instant she appeared, she had been trapped by the formation his kind had carefully prepared. With his Divine Transformation realm strength present and the entire space enclosed within the Demon Moon, escape was utterly impossible.
Unless she could somehow tear open the space from within the formation itself… heh, what an absurd thought.
Even he, with his Divine Transformation realm cultivation, couldn't accomplish that. He could only open spatial channels by using the authority branded into the Demon Moon.
If not for the steep cost and numerous restrictions involved, the Demon Moon could have easily served as an unmatched spatial sealing Artifact.
The black flood dragon's scarlet eyes gleamed with hesitation—he briefly considered probing the true worth of this human—but whatever thought crossed his mind made him shiver.
He dismissed the idea, instead pulling a golden feather from his robes.
The feather began to glow faintly, though the mysterious power within it would clearly take some time to fully awaken.
"All that remains is to wait for the Netherking will to descend and complete the final step…" he muttered. "What a simple task, even a mere Nascent Soul could have managed it. I really don't understand why the Netherking insisted that I come personally."
He gave a snort. "No matter. I'll use the chance to report what happened two days ago, when my primordial spirit encountered that suspected remnant of the Ancient Heavenly Gate…"
The black flood dragon's voice echoed unrestrainedly through the scarlet space.
But then, a calm, icy voice of a woman interrupted him.
"You are the same flood dragon who appeared on the Trial of Ascension Platform two days ago in the primordial spirit form, aren't you?"
Startled, the black flood dragon turned toward the woman sealed inside the formation.
He had thought she'd gone silent out of fear—frozen like a frightened mortal facing death.
Who would've thought that she'd still have the courage to speak to him?
Her eyes—clear and sharp beneath the scale-patterned mask—met his own.
There was not the faintest trace of fear in them. In fact, there was something else—a quiet certainty, as if she still held a hidden card.
He sneered inwardly. A bluff.
There was no way a mere Nascent Soul could stir up any trouble here.
So, he didn't even bother replying. After all, would a being of the Divine Transformation realm lower himself to exchange words with an ant?
Yet the woman continued speaking in that same cool, detached tone.
"It seems I wasn't mistaken. You're the flood dragon who had his primordial spirit shattered by him that day… I wondered why you hadn't shown yourself during today's chaos. Turns out you were still cowering in fear from him."
She spoke while glancing around the surrounding space, her eyes filled with disdain.
"As I thought. A Netherkin of the Divine Transformation realm is hiding in this place, completely unaware that the Netherkin race outside has already been beaten into fleeing like rats by my Immortal Nation... How amusing. Could it be you're a turtle Netherkin that turned into a flood dragon?"
"You dare?!"
Rage flared through the black flood dragon's eyes, the scarlet vertical pupils swelling with madness.
Since the day it transformed into a flood dragon, this was the first time it had ever been insulted by a mere Nascent Soul ant.
This human must have a death wish! Though it was supposed to deliver her to the Netherking, with its variety of techniques, it could easily torment her until she begged for death.
But the moment that thought surfaced, it suddenly froze, catching onto something.
"What do you mean? Who is 'he'?"
"You already know the answer, don't you?" Kirin's voice was cool and detached. "You seem even more afraid of him than I expected. If he were here right now, I doubt you'd even dare to think of resisting."
The black-robed flood dragon's body shuddered violently.
Unwanted memories flashed through its mind.
It remembered the powerless state of its primordial spirit in the grasp of a blurry figure…
Even though it had only manifested its primordial spirit back then, the other's effortless ease had nearly turned into its inner demon.
Its face beneath the robe shifted rapidly between gloom and fury, black mist surging all around.
At last, it flicked its sleeve.
"Hmph! Still mouthing off even at death's door, you little ant—die!"
It no longer intended to continue this pointless exchange.
All it needed to do was complete the Netherking's task. Once the Netherking descended and the plan was fulfilled, no one would be able to stop them.
It wasn't as if that man would actually appear here, right now…
That thought rekindled the fury of being mocked—being frightened—by a mere Nascent Soul human. Madness surged in its eyes.
The Netherking's will would take a little longer to arrive—so it might as well make this human taste some pain first!
Under the robe, its fingers twitched, and the formation beneath Kirin feet flared with blood-red light.
"I'll start by draining half your blood essence, then cripple one of your arms, and—"
Sigh
A man's sigh, soft and ancient, interrupted the words.
It was not the black flood dragon's voice, nor the woman's.
That sigh seemed to carry the weight of endless years—and yet, it felt inexplicably familiar.
So familiar that the flood dragon's back turned cold in instinctive fear.
In contrast, Kirin eyes narrowed faintly beneath her mask.
It was as though, upon hearing that sigh, she suddenly felt at ease.
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Tn: I updated the story daily, but if you want to see more chapter of this story ahead of time, please go to my Patreon.
Latest Chapter: Chapter 571: To See or Not to See?[1]
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[1] https://www.patreon.com/u93297024/posts/chapter-571-to-163855664
[2] https://www.patreon.com/u93297024/posts/chapter-571-to-163855664