Decree of the Underworld King

"Qingqing, don't mind him. Refine this light orb first. Only then can we leave this world."

Shangguan Qianqian endured the numbing pain from her wounds, gripping the Azure Cloud Sword with determination, her exquisite face still etched with defiance.

Tang Qingqing shook her head and handed the blue light orb to Shangguan Qianqian. "In your condition, how can you possibly fight him? You refine it—I'll keep him in check!"

Xue Ming sneered, "Keep me in check? You?"

"Then, how about this!"

Tang Qingqing pulled a hidden weapon from her sleeve.

"The Netherworld Token!"

"The Tang Clan truly has no worthy successors left, entrusting the Netherworld Token to a mere girl like you!"

Xue Ming's gaze turned icy with disdain. "Do you even know how to use it?"

"Hah, why would I carry it if I didn’t?"

Tang Qingqing stared coldly at him. "Even a cornered rabbit will bite. Push me further, and this token will split your skull open!"

Xue Ming hesitated.

The Netherworld Token—the Tang Clan’s sacred treasure.

"When the King of Hell calls for your death at midnight, none dare delay it till dawn!"

For millennia, the Netherworld Token had emerged fifteen times—never failing, even slaying two Void Realm martial artists!

Its contributions to the Tang Clan’s legacy were indelible.

But this girl was only at the peak of the Dark Force stage. Could she truly activate the token?

Xue Ming doubted she could, but he didn’t dare gamble.

If she succeeded, his life would be forfeit.

In the end, he feared death.

Seeing Xue Ming restrained by Tang Qingqing, Shangguan Qianqian quickly began refining the blue light orb.

A cool energy flowed from her palm, spreading through her limbs.

A pained frown creased Shangguan Qianqian’s brow.

Yet, the potent aphrodisiac still raged within her, tormenting her beyond endurance.

As the blue light orb was fully absorbed—

The world began collapsing.

The azure sky shattered, crumbling into nothingness.

Meanwhile, An Yi and Yan Zhi had already escaped the underground realm of scorching lava.

Now, they stood amidst ruins.

The sky mirrored the outside world—except for one difference.

Two suns hung in the sky, one in the east, one in the west, casting light without shadow.

"Where is this now?"

Yan Zhi surveyed the ruins, lost in thought.

The structures bore no discernible era or dynasty.

Moss and shrubs covered them, and occasional nameless birds flitted past, chirping.

This world was an enigma.

"There’s a palace over there!"

An Yi’s gaze fixed on the distance.

Yan Zhi looked up—and indeed, a palace loomed.

A structure so colossal it dwarfed imagination.

In height, it rivaled a twenty- or thirty-story building from the outside world.

Only their distance had made it easy to overlook.

"Let’s go. We’ve got work ahead."

An Yi narrowed his eyes, grinning.

Instinct told him the palace held the true secrets of this mystic realm.

The grand hall, though aged, exuded solemn majesty.

Walls of jade-like stone, pillars gleaming with crystalline brilliance—every detail radiated grandeur.

The intricate carvings and motifs carried an artistic elegance.

Clang!

As Yan Zhi marveled at the architecture, a sharp metallic clang interrupted.

Noticing her stare, An Yi sheepishly sheathed the demonic sword Dragon Fang. "Just testing the pillars. Not planning to steal and sell them. I’m not that kind of guy."

Yan Zhi rolled her eyes.

After hacking fruitlessly at the pillars, An Yi gave up and strode inside, sword in hand.

What was the secret of the Vast Heaven Mystic Realm? This palace might hold the answer.

But danger surely lurked beneath its serene facade.

They ventured deeper.

The path was eerily silent—and long.

Murals adorned the walls, depicting tales through symbols.

Snake-faced humans, nine-headed dragons, towering giants—myriad bizarre creatures filled the artwork.

"What does all this mean?" Yan Zhi murmured.

"You understand any of it?" An Yi asked.

She shook her head. She was no historian, and even experts would struggle to decipher it.

"Just take pictures. Study them later."

An Yi snapped photos with his phone as they walked.

Then, he froze.

His screen reflected a gleaming bald head.

"Patron An, Patron Yan."

Ji Chen turned, bowing slightly with a serene smile. His refined demeanor was striking—a monk of peerless grace.

An Yi returned the gesture, probing, "Brother Ji Chen, what brings you here?"

Yan Zhi, however, tensed.

This monk was no saint.

Ranked second on the Hidden Dragon List.

Dharma name: Ji Chen. Alias: Blood Monk.

By day, he chanted scriptures. By night, he slaughtered.

The heads of his victims could encircle the Heavenly Dragon Temple.

"When the former world collapsed, this humble monk fell here," Ji Chen said softly.

Lv Zheng had landed with him but had already ventured ahead.

An Yi looked forward and noticed it—

A mirror-like barrier stood at the hall’s center.

Touching it sent ripples through space.

"What is this?"

As An Yi approached, the reflection wasn’t his own—but a silver-haired man with crimson eyes.

"This…"

He stepped back, eyes sharpening.

Ji Chen remained silent.

An Yi glanced at him.

The monk’s reflection showed a monstrous, grotesque figure—a demonic monk with a savage visage.

"Fascinating mirror," Yan Zhi mused.

In it, she wore the mantle of an enforcer, radiating killing intent. Behind her, a phoenix wreathed in crimson flames spread its wings.

"A prophecy? Or…"

"This humble monk shall proceed first."

Ji Chen stepped into the barrier.

A flash of light—

He opened his eyes to a magnificent temple.

A colossal Buddha statue towered before him, solemn and sacred.

"A place of Buddhist purity—why do you harbor such bloodlust? What is the Buddha in your heart?"

A divine voice echoed.

Ji Chen’s gentle smile twisted into something feral.

"Through slaughter, I enter the Buddha’s path!"