Chapter 298: With the Underworld Lord's Deal

Ning Xiaoling’s petite figure sat on the massive throne, looking like a princess of the netherworld.

Ning Changjiu smoothed her dress, arranging the skirt neatly over her slender, clean thighs. The dust and bloodstains clinging to the fabric were extracted with spiritual power, gently brushed away, and dissipated into the darkness as fine specks.

The young girl’s hand clutched the knife tightly, yet her expression was serene. She remained motionless, like a delicate porcelain doll, allowing herself to be positioned.

In the silent hall, Ning Changjiu quietly watched her, a smile spreading across his face.

He had never imagined they would meet in such a place, in this manner.

The Dark Sea, which once housed countless spirits, had its source severed, turning this place into a dead sea, silent and desolate like a true graveyard, with no one to pay respects.

Ning Changjiu looked at her, his gaze shifting downward to the blood-red blade.

“Shen Tu?” Ning Changjiu recognized it at first glance.

He clearly remembered how Zhao Xiang’er had casually forged a replica of Shen Tu in the Vermillion Bird World of Zhao.

Ning Changjiu gazed at the ancient blade. Its body was slender, its surface like water, and the blood-red light flowed between bright and dim. The blade’s curve was faint, and its tip was broken; if it were intact, it would have been as graceful as a maiden's hair.

Although this blade had endured divine wars throughout the ages, with obvious damage and blunt edges at its sharpest points, it was still beautiful. One could imagine its former wielder might have been a wandering poet.

His hand touched the blade's edge.

Before entering this place, Siming had told him that what he saw was not the true Underworld; this hall was merely an afterimage of the Dark Sea. The real Underworld was hidden in the depths of the mind, and the only way to activate it was through "death."

Ning Changjiu used his fingers to pinch the sharp edge of Shen Tu, extracting a wisp of bloody light as if peeling silk from a cocoon.

The bloody light neared his neck.

A sense of death unfolded.

Ning Changjiu stopped in time.

His vision abruptly changed.

He was still in the Underworld Palace. Bloodstains and the twisting remnants of feathered serpents lingered on the floor, the bloody scent flowing along the floor tiles until it reached an abyss that suddenly appeared behind the hall.

The Underworld Palace tilted towards the abyss.

An irresistible force pushed him, causing him to slide down the slope.

Thunder rumbled in the sky, and torrential rain poured down. The raindrops collided and shattered in the air, splashing into a misty fog midway.

Ning Changjiu looked up, staring at the starkly different surroundings.

He stretched out his hand, and rain droplets tapped against his fingertips, wet, cold, and real to the touch.

“Is this Purgatory?” Ning Changjiu looked around.

It was a desolate mountain range. All the surrounding barren mountains had been shattered, their black peaks transformed into massive broken rocks. These rocks were piled up, resembling cities that had been repeatedly burned by great fires.

Fire still lingered in the rock crevices.

This was not real-world fire, but the legendary Netherworld ghostly flame. The ghostly flame's embers remained unextinguished in the heavy rain. It burned very slowly, like sleeping imps—so quiet, yet intimidating to approach.

Ning Changjiu walked forward in this world where water and fire mingled.

“Hello, Saint.” A skull-like old man approached him.

Ning Changjiu looked at him.

The old man had not appeared out of thin air; he had been standing by the roadside earlier, like a charred ancient tree, and Ning Changjiu hadn't noticed him at first glance.

“Hello,” Ning Changjiu said, his words feeling a bit awkward.

The skull-like old man asked, “You’ve come to save us, haven’t you?”

Ning Changjiu shook his head. “Sorry, I’m just looking for someone.”

“Looking for someone?” The skull-like old man exclaimed, delighted. “Then you *are* here to save us!”

Ning Changjiu asked, “Why do you say that?”

The skull-like old man said, “The person you’re looking for, is it a young girl in a white dress?”

Ning Changjiu nodded. “Yes.”

The skull-like old man said, “She’s in the palace at the end of this road. Just keep going straight, and you’ll see her.”

Ning Changjiu asked, “Is it that simple?”

“Yes, young man.” The skull-like old man seemed to smile, but his skull-like face made his smile look eerie.

Ning Changjiu thanked him, then curiously asked, “How do I save you all?”

The skull-like old man said, “Open up this sky, and we can leave, returning to the true Star Sea, instead of being trapped here forever.”

Ning Changjiu asked, “Do you know where you are?”

The skull-like old man nodded. “Of course I do. This is a wicked, lawless world. I only figured this out five hundred years ago. Back then, I dedicated myself to studying the Sea of Thorns. I had summarized seventy-six laws related to the Sea of Thorns and was about to classify them when a remnant soul from outside told me…”

The skull-like old man seemed to recall something painful and couldn’t bear to continue.

Ning Changjiu curiously prompted, “Told you what?”

The skull-like old man pointed at the piled rubble and said, “She told me that in the outside world, water and fire are incompatible.”

Ning Changjiu stared at the stone fire that the torrential rain couldn’t extinguish. After a long silence, he asked, “You’re not from the outside world?”

The skull-like old man said, “I am an aboriginal here, a being formed from souls created by the Underworld. Unlike those outside souls, who are born with much knowledge.”

Ning Changjiu immediately thought of Siming.

Siming was a spirit embryo cultivated in her former divine kingdom.

Divine kingdoms were like small worlds, capable of nurturing life. The Underworld was said to have formed after the death of the Underworld Lord, and even in its dilapidated state, it still possessed the power to create living beings.

The skull-like old man recalled events from back then and said, “I studied the Sea of Thorns for a hundred years, only to learn it was merely the absurd imagination of the Underworld Lord’s chaotic consciousness after death. Its end is chaos, not hope; there’s no meaning in studying it… It’s like this road, where there’s a large copper pillar lamp every hundred steps, without exception, all the way to the end. But this doesn’t represent the truth of the world; other places in the world don’t have lamp posts…”

“I once revered it as truth and believed it for a hundred years,” the skull-like old man said, letting out a heavy sigh as he recalled those spirited years.

Ning Changjiu said, “No matter how broken this place is, it’s still a world. If it returns to the Sea of Spirits, there will truly be nothing left.”

The skull-like old man said, “The meaning of life is to seek meaning; the meaning of death is to return to reality.”

Ning Changjiu said, “You sound like a scholar.”

The skull-like old man said, “Because the Underworld Lord is a poet.”

“The Underworld Lord is still alive?” Ning Changjiu asked.

The skull-like old man said, “Yes… and no. In any case, you’ll see her soon. Along the way, you’ll also see many stone tablets, all bearing the Underworld Lord’s poems.”

Rain continued to fall. Occasional thunder rumbled in the sky, but no lightning was visible.

Ning Changjiu looked around.

Black flowers bloomed from the surrounding rocks, one after another.

The skull-like old man stopped, bent his gaunt body, bit into a dark flower, and swallowed it.

“What are you doing?” Ning Changjiu asked.

The skull-like old man said, “This is a Flower of Darkness; it sustains life. I’m lucky today; usually, I have to search for a long time… You must be a lucky person.”

“Does it taste good?” Ning Changjiu asked casually.

The skull-like old man said, “I can’t taste anything.”

Ning Changjiu looked around. As the old man had said, a lamp post appeared every hundred steps. This lamp post was strange; no matter how large his strides, it always appeared at precisely the hundredth step.

Ning Changjiu said, “This is Purgatory?”

The skull-like old man nodded. “Isn’t this place terrifying?”

Ning Changjiu looked at the desolation washed by the rain. This place was like a misty graveyard, at most suggesting the presence of imps; it was hard to imagine any great horror hidden within. Smoke billowed in the distance, though, like boiling water bubbling up towards the chaotic sky.

Ning Changjiu asked, “Where is the terror?”

The skull-like old man sighed. “It’s terrifying because of the despair… You’ll understand soon.”

The old man continued to lead Ning Changjiu forward.

“You’ve been waiting for me here all this time?” Ning Changjiu asked.

“Yes, Saint.” The skull-like old man said, “A great existence in the Underworld told me to wait for you and escort you to the Underworld Palace to prevent you from getting lost here.”

Lost?

Ning Changjiu was a bit confused.

The old man seemed to be a guide, but the path was straight. No matter how one looked at it, even the most directionally challenged person wouldn't get lost.

Continuing forward, Ning Changjiu saw many more souls.

They wandered this world, most without legs, existing as smoke-like masses pointed at the bottom. They floated low.

“That’s Purgatory.” The skull-like old man pointed into the distance and said, “These people call themselves the Sect of Destruction. They built a city of stone, and the entire city is a cannon barrel. This city shoots spherical projectiles into the sky. Each of these spheres has been polished for decades, so every launch represents decades of effort.”

Ning Changjiu asked, “What’s their purpose? War?”

The skull-like old man said, “War is a thing of the past, hundreds of years ago. Many remnant souls who entered here then died in the wars.”

Ning Changjiu asked, “Then what are they doing? Breaking the sky?”

“Yes,” the skull-like old man said. “They want to blast a hole in the sky… but that’s impossible.”

Ning Changjiu nodded in agreement.

This was the Sea of Mind, where thoughts were boundless.

They continued forward.

Ning Changjiu saw another huge copper pillar mechanism, somewhat similar to Zhang Heng’s armillary sphere from back then.

The skull-like old man said, “This is the Sect of Summoning Immortals. Their leader is a shaman. Unlike the ambitious Sect of Destruction, they want to use artificial stars to call forth external gods.”

Ning Changjiu considered that the Underworld was suppressed by the Ancient Spirit Sect; information from rituals couldn't even reach the outer Underworld Palace, let alone the outside world.

The armillary sphere rotated in the rain, not naturally, but dragged by several wild ghosts. Chains were wrapped around the ghosts, making them look like donkeys pulling a millstone. The chains had deeply cut into their bones, and occasionally, a ghost would collapse from exhaustion, falling to dust as bones. New ghosts were quickly pushed into place with chains, taking over the previous one’s position.

Their efforts were also futile.

Ning Changjiu shook his head gently and walked forward in silence.

The skull-like old man pointed at the neat formation ahead and said, “This is the Regicide Sect. As the name suggests, they want to kill the Underworld Lord.”

“Kill the Underworld Lord?” Ning Changjiu asked. “Isn’t the Underworld Lord the ruler here?”

The skull-like old man said, “They believe the Underworld Lord holds the skywell leading to the outside world, so they want to kill her and take her place. They have been training troops for years, and when they reach 300,000, they will march on the Underworld Palace.”

Ning Changjiu said, “They train troops right under the Underworld Lord’s nose?”

The skull-like old man nodded. “The monarch doesn’t care about these things.”

Ning Changjiu said, “This is also a world; what’s different about living here? Why do you insist on leaving?”

The skull-like old man said, “Because the apocalypse is near. If we don’t leave, everyone will die. A stone tablet outside the Underworld Palace records the year the apocalypse will arrive… So, wars stopped long ago, and everyone is looking for a way to escape.”

Ning Changjiu nodded thoughtfully.

He wasn’t really paying attention anymore, because the closer he got to the Underworld Palace, the more agitated his heart became.

They passed many stone tablets, said to contain the Underworld Lord’s long poems.

Ning Changjiu asked, “Can you read the words on the stone tablets?”

The skull-like old man said, “Young people nowadays are illiterate, but we still know how to read.”

Ning Changjiu asked, “What kind of story do these stone tablets tell?”

The skull-like old man replied, “They tell of the great Underworld Lord’s arrival in this world, her experiences over centuries, and… her ultimate demise.”

Ning Changjiu asked, “How did the Underworld Lord finally perish?”

The skull-like old man replied, “The sky was obscured, the monarch lost contact with the other gods, they lost their power and fell into conflict. Then, an entity whom the Underworld Lord called the ‘Dark Master’ arrived… Hmm, we’re here.”

The skull-like old man said no more. He stopped, bowing his frail body before the magnificent palace.

“My Lord, I have guided the Saint here for you,” the skull-like old man said reverently.

A gust of wind blew from the hall, and the skull-like old man vanished.

Before vanishing, the old man suddenly revealed an eerie smile. He softly said, “Saint, look back. Don’t you think this world is essentially the same as yours outside?”

Ning Changjiu looked back at the sound.

The sky was dyed dark by smoke and dust; gunsmoke filled the air.

The apocalypse was near. Under the lightless dome, people struggled futilely, yet full of hope.

Is this… the same as the outside world?

Ning Changjiu’s belief in the beauty of the outside world wavered.

He looked at the stone tablet in front of the palace. The number “three hundred” was carved on it.

Three hundred days.

The wind swirled back, like a hand pushing Ning Changjiu forward.

Ning Changjiu stepped over the stone stairs and entered the hall.

The Underworld Palace in the outside world couldn’t compare to this one at all; if this palace was an iceberg, the previous one was just a fragment of its tip.

Ning Changjiu walked deeper into the grand hall.

He ignored the illusory, beautiful murals that resembled glazed glass around him and walked towards the depths of the hall.

What he saw in the depths once again exceeded his expectations.

He had originally thought this was a story about an elder brother saving his junior sister, but in the depths, he saw the beautiful girl in the white dress seated on the throne, smiling brightly at him. By her side, attendants with serpentine spines bowed their heads deferentially.

Behind the throne, divine pillars were entwined with the bones of feathered serpents.

Behind the feathered serpent’s massive body, a cluster of wing bones was as slender as Shen Tu’s blade.

“Elder Brother.” Ning Xiaoling watched him, smiling sweetly, her curved eyes welling up with tears.

“Elder Brother, I knew you’d come,” Ning Xiaoling said. “I was afraid you’d get lost, so I made the only path so straight, and I designated everything a hundred miles away from it as forbidden territory. That way… you could find me.”

“I’ve killed the gods here; now I’m the new god, so Elder Brother… you don’t need to be afraid,” Ning Xiaoling said, smiling.

Ning Changjiu quietly watched her, showing no sign of emotion on his face: “Stop pretending.”

Ning Xiaoling was slightly stunned. “Elder Brother… what’s wrong?”

Ning Changjiu asked, “Are you the Underworld Lord or the White Fox?”

Ning Xiaoling stared at him for a moment and then asked, “How did you know?”

Only then did Ning Changjiu understand Siming’s profound foresight. If he hadn’t carefully sensed Ning Xiaoling’s aura beforehand, he might very well have been deceived this time.

“An elder brother wouldn’t fail to recognize his junior sister,” Ning Changjiu said.

The girl on the throne stood up and instantly changed her appearance. “Heh, such sweet talk. No wonder that foolish girl was so thoroughly deceived by you; her last obsession truly won’t die.”

Her last obsession?

Ning Changjiu’s fists clenched instantly inside his sleeves.

The girl laughed. “Don’t worry, she’s not dead yet. As long as you agree to do something for me, she can live well.”

Ning Changjiu asked, “What do you want me to do?”

The girl said, “Kill a traitor for me. Kill her, and I’ll return your junior sister to you.”

“What traitor?” Ning Changjiu continued to ask.

“Arid River Dragon Sparrow… Hmm, she should be called Vermillion Bird now,” the girl replied.

Ning Changjiu pondered for a moment. “Back then, Arid River Dragon Sparrow was an enemy of Tianzang. If you’re connected to the Underworld Lord, then you should also have been a sworn enemy of Dragon Sparrow?”

“You know a lot, don’t you?” the girl said. “But you don’t need to pry into my origins. Just tell me, can you kill her?”

“No,” Ning Changjiu said, shaking his head.

This had little to do with Xiang’er. No matter what he thought, it didn’t change the fact that he was no match for the Vermillion Bird god.

As if expecting this, the girl said, “Then let’s lower the difficulty. Will you take me out of here?”

Ning Changjiu asked, “How do I do that?”

The girl smiled. “It’s simple. Darkness is an ocean; to cross it, a physical body is the best raft. Your junior sister is the perfect raft. When you take her away, give me a ride. Once we’re out, I’ll return your junior sister to you.”

Ning Changjiu said, “You want to be a parasite too?”

The girl exclaimed angrily, “Don’t compare deities to such lowly beings!”

“But what you’re doing is the same.”

“Alright, alright, let’s not talk about that,” the girl said. “In short, are you willing?”

Ning Changjiu said, “I want to see my junior sister first.”

The girl let out an “Oh,” then reluctantly said, “At that time, your junior sister was fighting a group of large serpents and was on her last breath. If she hadn’t had my authority on her, she certainly wouldn’t have been accepted by the Underworld and would have long since turned into a wandering ghost, captured by the shamans of the Sect of Summoning Immortals to drag their armillary sphere. So, I am her savior, you know.”

Ning Changjiu frowned. “You… are the Underworld Lord?”

The girl turned around, pouting as she asked, “Why are you looking at me like that? Do I not resemble her?”

Ning Changjiu was silent for a moment. “Wasn’t the Underworld Lord Tianzang’s husband?”

The girl said faintly, “Deities can only guarantee their own immortality, but they can’t guarantee their gender.”

“Are you really a poet?” Ning Changjiu asked again.

The girl spun around angrily. “Do you enjoy exposing people’s shortcomings so much?”

Ning Changjiu said, “That’s not a shortcoming.”

The girl stood with her hands behind her back; though petite, her posture was imposing. She said coldly, “Insignificant. It was merely to deceive that foolish woman, Tianzang, back then.”

With that, the girl led Ning Changjiu towards the back of the hall.

Along the way, she couldn’t help but ask coldly, “So… have you read the poetry?”

Ning Changjiu said, “All the stone tablets along the way are. Of course, I’ve seen them.”

The girl asked, seemingly casually, “How was the writing?”

“…” Ning Changjiu thought, “Underworld Lord, do you want me to praise you?”

“It was… very poetic,” Ning Changjiu said, against his true feelings.

The girl scoffed. “What’s with the pretense? You can’t even read!”

“…” Ning Changjiu was speechless.

“But it doesn’t matter,” the girl said. “One day you’ll learn the Netherworld script, and then you’ll perceive its beauty.”

Ning Changjiu couldn’t help but ask, “Are you really the Underworld Lord?”

“Are you slighting my authority?” the girl asked.

Ning Changjiu didn’t know what to say, feeling as if all the suppression he had felt along the way had been cleared away by the Underworld Lord’s image.

No wonder the people of the Underworld suffered such a harsh life with a monarch like this.

The girl said, “To be precise, I am not the Underworld Lord you speak of. You can call me… Underworld Lord II.”

“Hello, Miss Second Generation,” Ning Changjiu said, quite courteously.

He knew that no matter how harmless this young girl appeared, the power she wielded was capable of destroying cities and nations at a whim.

In the depths of the hall, the girl stopped.

She pushed open the hall door, and behind it was… a mountain of stones?

“These are cages,” the girl said, fearing Ning Changjiu wouldn’t recognize them. She volunteered an introduction: “Your junior sister is locked in one of these cages. You need to find her yourself.”

Ning Changjiu feigned difficulty; while saying it was hard, he walked towards the cages.

“Wait!” the girl stopped him.

“What’s wrong?” Ning Changjiu asked.

The girl said, “You must offer something to gain one chance to open a stone cell.”

Ning Changjiu was not unfamiliar with this; he had seen stalls on the streets of Zhao country with rows of items of varying value, where people would buy copper rings to throw and try to win.

Ning Changjiu asked, “What do you need me to offer?”

The girl answered without hesitation, “An Immortal Scroll.”

This answer was within Ning Changjiu’s expectations.

This was, after all, something that belonged to the Underworld Lord.

Ning Changjiu handed over an Immortal Scroll.

“Your junior sister won’t be easy to find, hmm… Do you want to buy ten chances at once?” the girl asked.

“No need,” Ning Changjiu refused.

The girl smiled as she took the Immortal Scroll… “First, get the most important thing, then slowly exploit him until he’s just bones. Hmph, I don’t believe he’ll pick it on the first try…”

Ning Changjiu calmly walked down the stone steps.

He stood behind the Underworld Palace, his gaze sweeping over one stone door after another.

They were like shrines holding souls, silently waiting to be opened.

His mind found that familiar sensation.

The wind in the Underworld Palace blew back and forth, stirring his white robe.

He approached a stone door and gently extended his hand.

The girl, who called herself Underworld Lord II, narrowed her eyes sharply.

“Wait!” the girl tried to stop him.

But Ning Changjiu had already pushed the door open and stepped inside.

A moonlit white glow lit up inside the door.

A sleeping, innocent soul was embraced by him. The curled-up soul had been restlessly pulsating, but now, in his arms, it calmed down, as if falling into a deep slumber.

It was Ning Xiaoling.

“How… how is that possible?” the girl asked, puzzled.

After speaking, she felt a little regret.

As the second monarch of the Underworld, she should be an omniscient and omnipotent deity. Asking such a question made her seem weak.

Ning Changjiu, holding Ning Xiaoling’s soul, said, “Thank you, Miss Second Generation, for reuniting us siblings.”

The girl pursed her lips, her expression conflicted. “No! Let’s start over. You must have used some unfair trick!”

Ning Changjiu quietly looked at her.

Behind him, the Asura’s Dharmakaya outlined a light that swallowed all darkness.

The girl stared at the Asura Dharmakaya, fear rising within her.

In the world of Luoshu, Ning Changjiu had already proven that an Asura condensed from mental power was almost invincible in the mental world.

Moreover, he could tell that this self-proclaimed Underworld Lord II was not in good condition.

This was also one of the omens of the approaching apocalypse.

Ning Changjiu walked forward with the Asura Dharmakaya.

The girl stretched out her hand and said, “Wait!”

“Is there anything else, Miss Second Generation?” Ning Changjiu asked.

The girl said, “There was also a cat that came with your junior sister! I imagine your junior sister cherishes this cat very much.”

Ning Changjiu remembered the cat paw prints in the notebook and nodded thoughtfully.

The girl casually grabbed, pulling the cat out from another stone door.

“If you want to redeem this cat, exchange it for that golden giant behind you,” the girl said.

Ning Changjiu looked at the cat.

The cat looked at Ning Changjiu.

So… it’s you?!

It’s… actually you?!

They looked at each other in silence.

“Yu…” Ning Changjiu hesitated, wondering whether to call its name.

A glimmer of hope ignited in the Fish King’s heart: “Is Yu what I desire?”

Ning Changjiu looked at Underworld Lord II and shook his head, “No desire.”