I Shall Return

The Sword Ruins Patriarch had been holding it in all the way here.

He was nearly about to develop a heart demon from it.

Above the South Sea.

Ji Wushang came to a halt.

It stood atop the black tide, its ruined, grotesque body resembling a collapsed demonic mountain.

The tenth-level grotesque domain around it flickered in and out, no longer able to unfold completely.

Even so, it still sent a chill through heaven and earth.

The tenth level was still the tenth level.

Even on the verge of collapse, it was not something an ordinary Martial God could look upon directly.

Ji Wushang slowly turned around.

Its shattered grotesque eye struggled to open a narrow slit.

Black blood dripped from that slit like a waterfall of night.

It looked toward the allied forces of the Twelve Sacred Lands.

Then it looked toward a battered spirit vessel mixed in at the edge of the allied army.

The ship now bore the broken lantern of the Boundless Sacred Land, the torn banner of the Mountains and Rivers Sacred Land, the golden armor plating of the Golden Vault Sacred Land, and half a spearhead from the Thunder Zenith Sacred Land.

Its style was so haphazard that it was almost infuriating.

But the aura of the Sacred Lands surrounding it was exceptionally dense.

So dense that Ji Wushang wanted to kill it the moment it saw the ship.

Wang Hao stood at the bow, cloaked in black.

He did not continue attacking.

Because it was enough.

In Ji Wushang’s current condition, forget recovering in a hundred years—even without some heaven-defying opportunity, it might not return to its peak in three hundred years.

Its grotesque-eye foundation had been struck by Wang Hao, leaving behind a permanent crack.

Of course.

That could not be said aloud.

Saying it would expose his contribution.

Sometimes, credit was not as useful as taking the blame.

Wang Hao understood this principle all too well.

Ji Wushang’s voice was hoarse, like countless shattered bones grinding together.

“The Twelve Sacred Lands…”

“This one remembers you…”

Lord of Thunder Zenith’s eyelid twitched.

Here it comes.

Again.

Ji Wushang continued:

“Thunder Zenith…”

“Lunar Shade…”

“Blood Lotus…”

“Sword Ruins…”

“Mountains and Rivers…”

“Boundless…”

“Golden Vault…”

It recited the names one by one.

With every name, the faces of the corresponding Sacred Land’s people grew darker.

At last, Ji Wushang’s voice suddenly turned sinister.

“A hundred years…”

“No…”

“A thousand years…”

“This one will return…”

“I will destroy your sects…”

“Devour your inheritances…”

“Swallow your ancestral bones…”

“Make the bloodlines of your Sacred Lands… eternal grotesque slaves…”

Everyone in the Twelve Sacred Lands felt a chill in their hearts.

This was no ordinary threat.

It was the karmic lock of a tenth-level grotesque being.

From this moment onward, so long as Ji Wushang did not die, it and the Twelve Sacred Lands would be locked in a fight to the death.

Lord of Thunder Zenith remained silent for a long while before suddenly laughing.

His laughter sounded worse than weeping.

“I’ve spent my entire life doing good deeds and accumulating virtue. How did I end up with this mess?”

Lord of Lunar Shade said coldly:

“There’s no use saying this now.”

“Kill it.”

Blood Lotus Ancestor gritted his teeth.

“It has reached its limit.”

The Sword Ruins Patriarch drew his sword.

“We can’t let it enter the Abyssal Trench.”

Deep within the South Sea was a gigantic vortex.

Beneath the vortex lay the Dark Sea Abyss.

Countless cracks ran through the depths of the abyss, connecting to unknown grotesque domains.

If Ji Wushang escaped into it, pursuing it any farther would be tantamount to throwing their lives away.

So this was their final opportunity.

The Twelve Sacred Lands unleashed all their remaining foundations once more.

The Thunder Zenith Ancestral Bone shone brightly, and a sea of lightning rose again.

The Ancient Lunar Mirror hung in the air, its moonlight transforming into blades.

The Blood Lotus Killing Array spread open, turning the scarlet surface of the sea into a pool of blood.

The broken sword of the Sword Ruins Patriarch stretched across the sky, while ten thousand swords descended like falling stars.

The Mountains and Rivers Ancestral Vein’s dragon spear pierced through the void.

The Boundless Sacred Land’s Light of Illumination burned all the way down to its wick.

The ancient Qin dynasty’s warships fired a volley.

The monks of the Ten Thousand Buddhas Temple chanted scriptures, their Buddhist radiance shining like a golden sun.

The Demon Ancestor of Sky Demon Mountain revealed its true form, its enormous claws tearing the heavens apart.

At this moment, the allied forces of the Central Continent were truly fighting with their lives on the line.

They all knew that if Ji Wushang escaped into the South Sea, the entire Central Continent would be unable to eat or sleep in peace in the future.

Ji Wushang threw its head back and roared.

It no longer tried to withstand the attacks head-on.

It compressed the remaining tenth-level grotesque domain around it until it became a black grotesque cocoon, wrapping around its ruined body as it fell toward the abyss.

Countless attacks slammed into the grotesque cocoon.

The cocoon shattered piece by piece.

Ji Wushang’s grotesque body disintegrated inch by inch.

Black blood splashed across the South Sea, polluting thousands of miles of ocean.

Countless sea beasts mutated on the spot, letting out terrified roars.

Wang Hao watched this scene, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“Still not enough.”

The Demon Lord said in a low voice:

“You’re going to attack again?”

Wang Hao did not answer.

He raised a hand, and the Thunder Abyss Suppression Demon Tower emerged.

The gate to the ninth level lit up once more.

This was the final purple thunder dragon.

Yin Jiuyou’s expression changed.

“Your Majesty, using it now will expose you, won’t it?”

Wang Hao said indifferently:

“No.”

“Because Thunder Zenith will take the blame.”

Far away, Lord of Thunder Zenith suddenly felt a chill in his heart.

He abruptly turned toward the direction where Wang Hao stood.

“Don’t!”

But it was already too late.

This time, Wang Hao not only activated the Thunder Abyss Suppression Demon Tower—he also pushed the Thunder Zenith Aspect to its absolute limit.

Purple lightning shot into the sky.

The people of the Thunder Zenith Sacred Land watched in horror, their scalps tingling.

The gate to the ninth level opened.

The purple thunder dragon emerged once more.

It charged out from the battered spirit vessel, traversed the South Sea, and slammed into the grotesque cocoon formed by Ji Wushang, carrying with it a destructive might of thunder.

Ji Wushang’s shattered grotesque eye snapped open.

Reflected in its eye was the purple thunder dragon.

Also reflected there was the Thunder Zenith Aspect, dense beyond all measure.

“Thunder Zenith—”

That cry was filled with boundless hatred.

Lord of Thunder Zenith broke down and roared:

“I really didn’t do it!”

Boom!

The purple thunder dragon smashed through the grotesque cocoon.

The protective grotesque domain Ji Wushang had just condensed was forcibly pierced.

Another section of its shattered grotesque eye exploded.

This time, it was more than an injury.

The foundation it needed to recover had been severed completely.

Ji Wushang screamed as it fell into the abyss.

The accumulated power of the Twelve Sacred Lands followed close behind and crashed down.

The vortex of the South Sea exploded, sending a ten-thousand-foot wall of water into the air.

Dark cracks appeared on the seabed, resembling the enormous mouths of countless abysses.

Ji Wushang’s ruined body transformed into a streak of black light and drilled into the deepest crack.

Before disappearing, its curse drifted up from beneath the abyss.

“The Twelve Sacred Lands…”

“A hundred years from now…”

“We will fight to the death…”

“Wang Hao…”

The voice suddenly paused.

As though, amid its extreme hatred, it had finally remembered another person it truly loathed.

“You…”

“Won’t escape either…”

The black light vanished.

The abyss closed.

The South Sea returned to its turbulent state.

But everyone knew that this battle had not truly ended.

It had merely been dragged into the future.

The allied forces of the Twelve Sacred Lands remained suspended above the South Sea.

No one cheered.

The price they had paid was simply too great.

Moreover, Ji Wushang was not dead.

But neither was anyone in despair.

Ji Wushang had been injured too severely.

So severely that it would be impossible for it to recover within a hundred years.

An old general of the ancient Qin dynasty murmured:

“At least… the Central Continent will be free of worry for a hundred years.”

An old monk of the Ten Thousand Buddhas Temple pressed his palms together.

“Amitabha.”

“A hundred years is already a great blessing for all living beings.”

Lord of Thunder Zenith stood aboard the warship, his eyes vacant.

Lord of Lunar Shade looked at him.

“Fellow Daoist Thunder Zenith…”

Lord of Thunder Zenith immediately took a step back.

“Don’t say anything!”

Lord of Lunar Shade was silent for a moment.

“I only wanted to say that your Thunder Zenith Sacred Land should be more careful from now on.”

Lord of Thunder Zenith looked up at the sky.

He suddenly felt that it would have been better if Ji Wushang had died.

If it had died, at least the hatred would have ended there.

As long as it lived, it was a blade hanging over the head of the Thunder Zenith Sacred Land.

And someone else had been the one to hand that blade over.

Blood Lotus Ancestor said darkly:

“Where is that man in black?”

Only then did everyone suddenly realize.

That was right.

Where was the man in black?

They all turned toward the spot where the battered spirit vessel had been moments earlier.

It was empty.

Only a few broken planks floated on the surface of the sea.

There was also a particularly conspicuous command token.

Lord of Thunder Zenith’s heart trembled.

“No…”

An elder of the Sword Ruins Sacred Land reached out across the distance and drew the token into his hand.

Two words were written on the front.

Thunder Zenith.

On the back was a single line of small characters:

Ji Wushang, you old dog—Thunder Zenith will await you for another battle a hundred years from now.

The entire scene fell into deathly silence.

Lord of Thunder Zenith finally could not hold it in any longer and spat out a mouthful of old blood.

“Beast!!!”

…

On the other side of the Southern Sea.

A hundred thousand li away.

On a desolate black reef island.

Space twisted ever so slightly.

Wang Hao led the people of Great Xia out of the teleportation array.

Every one of them was in a sorry state.

Yin Jiuyou collapsed directly onto the ground, gasping for breath.

“We survived.”

“Your subject actually survived.”

Han Shanyue’s armor was shattered, yet he was still the first to cup his fists in salute.

“Your Majesty, Ji Wushang has entered the depths of the Southern Sea.”

The Demon Lord looked at Wang Hao.

“That final strike of yours completely destroyed the foundation of its sinister eye.”

“It won’t be able to recover for a hundred years.”

Wang Hao nodded.

His face was pale.

He had continuously activated the ninth-layer Violet Thunder Dragon while forcing himself to maintain his disguised aura. The expenditure had been enormous.

His meridians throbbed with pain, and his qi and blood churned violently.

But his mood was excellent.

Extremely excellent.

Ji Wushang was crippled.

The Twelve Sacred Grounds had taken the blame.

Great Xia had made a fortune.

What was this called?

This was called a strategic victory.

The New Emperor Sword flew around nearby, circling the black reef island in excitement.

“Master, there’s an eerie aura here!”

The moment Yin Jiuyou heard that, he nearly jumped to his feet.

“There’s more?”

“Can’t we take a break?”

Wang Hao’s eyes, however, flickered.

Because the Sign-In Intelligence System had vibrated once again.

[Special location detected: Edge of the Southern Sea Depths—Black Abyss Reef Island.]

[Would you like to sign in?]

Wang Hao slowly rose to his feet.

The sea breeze swept over them, carrying a salty tang and an eerie, rotting stench.

In the distant depths of the Southern Sea, black clouds roiled like ink.

Ji Wushang had fled there.

Yet that place also represented a new opportunity.

Wang Hao gazed toward the dark waters, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.

“Sign in.”

[Sign-in successful.]

[Reward obtained: Ark of the Crossing Calamity.]

[Ark of the Crossing Calamity: A special treasured artifact. It can sail for a short time through special waters such as the Eerie Sea, the Yin River, and the Nether Abyss, while resisting the erosion of eerie tides below level nine.]

[Intelligence updated: Ji Wushang has fled into a Black Abyss fissure in the depths of the Southern Sea. The foundation of his sinister eye has been damaged. Estimated recovery time: one hundred and thirty to three hundred years.]

[Intelligence updated: Ji Wushang’s current primary target of hatred: the Twelve Sacred Grounds.]

[Intelligence updated: Ji Wushang’s current secondary target of hatred: Thunder Zenith Sacred Ground.]

[Intelligence updated: Ji Wushang’s current tertiary target of hatred: Wang Hao.]

Wang Hao studied the information, his brows rising slightly.

Thunder Zenith Sacred Ground had actually been ranked second all by itself.

Not bad.

All that effort had not been wasted.

Yin Jiuyou sidled over and asked in a low voice,

“Your Majesty, what did you get from the sign-in?”

Wang Hao raised his hand.

A black-and-gold miniature boat, no larger than his palm, appeared in it.

Sea-suppressing runes were engraved across the boat, while black water seemed to flow beneath its hull.

The Demon Lord’s eyes narrowed.

“A boat capable of entering the Eerie Sea?”

Wang Hao nodded.

“In the future, We can go to the depths of the Southern Sea.”

Yin Jiuyou’s vision went dark.

“Your Majesty, I suddenly feel that the scenery in the Central Continent is quite beautiful.”

Wang Hao looked at him.

“Didn’t you just say that being alive was wonderful?”

Yin Jiuyou answered solemnly,

“Precisely because being alive is wonderful, your subject doesn’t want to go to the depths of the Southern Sea.”

Wang Hao smiled but did not answer immediately.

He looked in the direction of the Central Continent.

The Twelve Sacred Grounds should be frantically searching for the black-robed man by now.

They might even be suspecting one another.

Thunder Zenith Sacred Ground, in particular, should be especially lively.

Wang Hao suddenly felt a little regretful.

He could not witness such a spectacular scene in person.

But it was not a problem.

There would be opportunities in the future.

Han Shanyue said gravely,

“Your Majesty, shall we return to Great Xia next?”

Wang Hao nodded.

“Return.”

“Ji Wushang will be unable to recover for a hundred years.”

“The Twelve Sacred Grounds have suffered a severe blow.”

“The Central Continent needs time to recuperate.”

“And Great Xia should also digest the spoils we have gained this time.”

Yin Jiuyou’s eyes lit up.

“His Majesty is wise!”

They could finally go home.

Wang Hao put away the Ark of the Crossing Calamity and glanced once more toward the depths of the Southern Sea.

Black clouds churned.

The abyss was silent.

Ji Wushang was not dead.

But for the time being, he could not crawl back out.

That was enough.

Wang Hao turned around.

“Let’s go.”

“Back to Great Xia.”

The New Emperor Sword flew beside him, still reluctant to leave.

“Master, shall we impersonate a Sacred Ground again next time?”

Wang Hao replied blandly,

“That depends.”

Yin Jiuyou instinctively asked,

“Depends on what?”

Wang Hao smiled faintly.

“On who’s unlucky.”

Everyone fell silent.

…

The sea breeze swept across the black reef island.

The figures of the people of Great Xia gradually faded into the distance.

Meanwhile, beneath the Black Abyss in the depths of the Southern Sea—

A damaged sinister eye slowly closed amid the endless darkness.

It remembered the Twelve Sacred Grounds.

It remembered Thunder Zenith.

And it remembered Wang Hao.

But for now, it was far too weak.

So weak that it could only sink into slumber.

In the darkness, Ji Wushang’s final wisp of consciousness echoed like a curse.

“A hundred years…”

“This seat…”

“Will return…”

The waves of the Southern Sea surged and swallowed every last sound.