Chapter Seventeen: Once an Ocean, Now Farmland

“Pitiful? Hahaha! To think that all my devotion to you has led to such a tragic end—I cannot accept it!” The man roared at the sky in rage, venting his fury before glaring at the girl and suddenly striking out with his palm. A torrent of true energy, surging with hatred, surged toward her to kill.

The girl refused to back down, meeting his attack head-on. Under the fierce clash of their energies, she staggered, then looked at him in surprise.

“You underestimate me. Even if I am poisoned, so what? You are still no match for me. Remember—the title of ‘King’ was not bestowed upon me for nothing!” The man gazed at the girl calmly, his eyes devoid of affection, filled only with ceaseless hatred.

Seeing that things were taking a turn for the worse and that further confrontation would only lead to mutual destruction with no clear victor, the girl swiftly waved her hands to dispel the barrier and rushed outside. The man, realizing she was trying to escape, chased after her, but as he reached the doorway, he was confronted by a horrifying scene.

Blood everywhere, a blinding red. The air was thick with the stench of gore. Everywhere, the flash of blades and swords—flesh and bones flying. Wails, screams, moans—all echoing, gripping the soul. The ground was littered with corpses and mangled remains. Some survivors still fought, while the defeated could only await slaughter. The shadow of war haunted every corner of the Netherworld, and the will to survive rooted itself in every heart. To live, they could only kill—there was no other choice. Some victorious immortals sped past, trampling the bodies of the Netherworld’s people, a humiliation worse than death!

The King would never allow anyone to trample upon the dignity of his people. He could not bear to see his subjects slain, their bodies desecrated by enemies, their souls denied peace. Enraged by their behavior, the King unleashed his full strength, sending his energy toward those who laughed and passed over the corpses of his people. To him, they were no longer human, but vile creatures less than beasts, all struck down in a single blow, none spared.

Seeing his compatriots mired in misery, the King cast aside his hatred for the girl and plunged into the brutal melee.

Kill, kill, kill! At this moment, only this word remained in the King’s heart. He slaughtered the enemy desperately to atone for his guilt. If he had not been blinded by lust and bewitched by that woman, his people would never have been drawn into this war. The Netherworld would not have lost so many innocent souls. The King was wracked with remorse and shame. He had let down those who sacrificed themselves for this war, his own folly indirectly causing their deaths. Now, he knew not what else to do, only to kill—kill more enemies, offer their blood to the spirits of the departed.

“Hmph! You are doomed, yet you still struggle in vain. Surrender your weapons now and I may leave you a whole corpse!” A wildly arrogant voice came from the horizon, and then a group of Immortal Realm folk descended before the King, among them a face most familiar to him—the girl who had wounded him so deeply, whom he longed to kill.

“Even if I die, I’ll drag you down with me!” The King glared at them and spoke.

“You’re on the brink of death, yet still so stubborn. I’ll personally send you on your way!” One of the immortals addressed the gravely wounded King with disdain, stepping forward to subdue him.

A king is a king. Though gravely injured, his fighting prowess was undiminished. After a few exchanges, he forced the immortal back, sending him flying several meters.

“Useless!” the leader of the immortals berated his defeated subordinate, who lowered his head and silently retreated behind his fellows, his eyes burning with hatred and defiance as he stared at the King.

“Anyone else unafraid of death, come at me!” The King, growing weak, said, the poison clearly taking its toll.

“What arrogance! Gods, heed my command—assemble the Demon-Slaying Formation!” At the leader’s order, the rest of the gods arranged themselves in a peculiar formation. Four imposing immortals encircled the King, while four others wielded bronze mirrors, spinning rapidly at the center points. The remaining immortals formed the outer ring, attacking with true energy to distract the King.

Though skilled at single combat, the King knew nothing of such bizarre formations and could only focus on the four closest opponents. But the second layer’s bronze mirrors disrupted his sight, and the third layer’s energy confused his mind. Gradually, he began to falter.

“What are you waiting for? Seize this opportunity and kill him!” An immortal whispered to the girl, who had been watching the battle in silence.

She hesitated, then summoned her immortal sword and thrust it at the man. The King, still embroiled with the other immortals, saw her coming for him, sword in hand. His heart ached, but he steeled himself and advanced, determined to settle things with her.

The girl attacked relentlessly, every move aimed at his life. But the King held back, unwilling to harm her, only defending and never retaliating, all while fending off the elders—his efforts frantic.

Suddenly, the girl ceased her assault and instead moved to meet the King’s palm. Alarmed, the King hurriedly withdrew his energy, but was severely injured by the rebound. At that moment, the girl gathered her pure true energy and poured it into her sword, striking at the King with all her might. Then, the King finally understood her heart—he had been her plaything from the beginning, deceived even in that last moment to win his sympathy and accomplish her ultimate aim: his capture.

The King lamented his foolishness, tormented by her trickery time and again. Anger surged within him, and he channeled all the strength he had ever learned into his right palm, leaving nothing in reserve as he struck at her with all his might. In an instant, the world spun. Sword and palm energy collided, both striking the pair. The man was stabbed and fell to the ground, barely clinging to life, while the girl perished with the true energy, her beauty forever lost.

“Hahaha! Don’t think your death atones for the pain you caused me. Never! I will haunt you in every lifetime, making you suffer the heartbreak I feel now, in each and every incarnation—always losing your beloved through betrayal. You will never know peace!” The man laughed at her corpse, his laughter tinged with longing and grief.

“How dare you kill the daughter of a great god of the Immortal Realm! We’ll tear you to pieces for revenge!” The immortals shouted at the fallen man.

“Don’t pretend this is for her revenge. You placed her by my side from the start—you should have expected this day would come. Spare me your nauseating hypocrisy!” The man mocked them.

“No need for words—finish him now!” the leader ordered his fellows.

Just as another brutal battle was about to begin, the sky suddenly twisted into a vortex, even the bright moon sucked within. Instantly, the Netherworld was shrouded in darkness. The gods were startled and murmured, “Such a sign—could it mean an ancient god is returning?”

The King, too, was confused by the strange sky. Earlier, when darkness had fallen, he had sensed something was about to happen, but a series of sudden events had distracted him. Now, the uneasy feeling returned.

“An ancient god labored to create the Three Realms, not so you could slaughter and devastate the living!” A majestic, commanding voice echoed from the heavens, pressuring everyone in the Netherworld. Some lesser cultivators fainted from its force, and even the stronger ones struggled to withstand its awe. Immortal Realm gods and reclusive sages from the Mortal Realm were drawn by the voice, filling the region beneath the vortex to capacity.

Suddenly, a beam of light shot from the vortex, keeping most onlookers out, leaving only a few great gods of the Immortal Realm, the King of the Netherworld, and several elderly hermits who had arrived. The elders, who had intended to spend their remaining years in seclusion, had been summoned by a powerful divine sense. Upon seeing the vortex, they were astonished and quickly bowed to the figure hidden in the sky.

One white-haired elder asked, “May we know the purpose of your descent from the void to the Three Realms, ancient god?”

“You are knowledgeable, old man, but I am not the ancient god—merely his attendant. I am here to deliver the ancient god’s decree. Listen carefully!” The figure’s voice grew stern, “The Immortal and Nether Realms, for the sake of a trivial dispute over hierarchy, have plunged the world into chaos. Do you recognize your guilt? The ancient god commands that you are forbidden from waging war. When a youth is born in several years—the day the ancient god reveals to you as the time for your duel—then you may settle matters. If another large-scale war breaks out before then, you will bear the consequences!”

“Your admonition is just, but such a command is difficult to follow,” the Immortal leader replied meekly.

“Oh? What difficulties? Speak.”

“Yes! If, during this period, an Immortal disciple is killed by those of another realm, what then? If another realm deliberately causes trouble, must we simply wait for this unknown youth to be born in years to come? How can we not avenge such hatred?”

“One who commits the act must pay the price. You may punish the culprit, but do not kill the innocent or implicate entire realms, inciting large-scale conflict. Do you understand?”

“Yes!” everyone responded.

“Let today’s matter end here. No more violence. And as for this young man, I shall take him with me!” said the mysterious figure firmly.

The leader hesitated, afraid to protest.

“Do you have objections?” the figure pressed. “He is the one chosen by the ancient god.”

“No, no! Please, take him. We wouldn’t dare object!” the leader flattered.

The mysterious figure snorted, then descended in a beam of auspicious light, wrapping the King and taking him into the vortex.

After the figure and the King departed, the Immortal leader arrogantly declared, “Today I spare you all in the Netherworld, but you elders had best live well—when the time comes in a few years, I’ll come for your lives!” With that, he led the immortals away.

“Seems that young man is truly fortunate, chosen by the ancient god. His future must be boundless. But who will be born in a few years?” The elder sighed and left. With the disappearance of the mysterious figure, the barrier vanished, leaving only bewildered souls, unsure what had happened.

From that day on, there was no word of the King in the Netherworld, as if he had vanished altogether. With his disappearance, even the shades and spirits gradually faded from the realm, leaving no trace.