Immortal of the Nine Realms

The cultivators aboard Nanming Ruyue’s Black Dragon Ship crowded to the rail, peering in the direction Nanming Ruyue pointed.

Upon seeing Xie Aman, Fang Chen, and Little Immortal Honglian standing on the shore, the cultivators aboard were surprised.

Nanming Ruyue’s expression darkened. He stirred the Black Dragon Ship forward and stopped directly above the trio. Dozens of figures flew down from the ship and landed before them.

One look, and someone immediately drew a sharp breath.

The three stood peacefully, their expressions calm and composed. Yet, not a trace of life could be felt from them. They looked dead.

”Are they... dead?”

”How’s that possible? Who could possibly kill Senior Sister?”

”Maybe they’re carrying out the Soul Crossing Ritual?”

”Impossible. How could the Underworld exist here?”

Everyone spoke in confusion and disbelief, staring back and forth at the three motionless figures.

Nanming Ruyue examined them carefully. There was no doubt, their life force was gone.

But he couldn’t understand how that could be. Entering the Underworld from Great Thunder Sound shouldn’t be possible.

Frowning, he took out a Soul Guiding Lantern. After a moment, he shook his head. ”No. This place blocks all passage to the Underworld.”

One of the cultivators aboard wore a grim look. ”Fifth Brother, could they have encountered some kind of danger? Maybe what we’re seeing is an illusion?”

The others froze, realization dawning. Could it be that the three were trapped inside an illusion, and this eerie sight was only a projection?

Nanming Ruyue immediately tested the surroundings with various techniques. He tried several times but couldn’t sense anything amiss. In the end, they concluded this wasn’t an illusion. The three before them were real.

”They must have had some kind of accident,” Nanming Ruyue said quietly.

He waved a hand, casting a restriction to seal and protect their bodies, then spoke solemnly. ”We’ll stay here and guard them until they wake up.”

No one objected.

Though waiting might cost them valuable exploration time, everyone knew which mattered more.

”Fifth Brother, should we inform the other core disciples?” someone asked cautiously.

Nanming Ruyue shook his head. ”No. Those who came this time don’t all share the same goal. If word of their condition spreads, it might invite unnecessary trouble.”

He channeled his immortal essence, weaving a veil of concealment that hid them from the outside world.

Everyone exchanged uneasy looks, their eyes growing heavier with concern.

Did Fifth Brother suspect that the situation of these three had been deliberately orchestrated?

***

Xie Aman burst out laughing. ”We’re dead? Hah! You shabby old Daoist, what nonsense!”

The next instant, her smile vanished. She slammed a palm on the table, sending a wave of terrifying Yin energy surging.

The scruffy Daoist merely watched her with a grin, completely unfazed.

Xie Aman was stunned.

”Yin energy?” she muttered, confused.

She withdrew her hand and looked at Fang Chen and Little Immortal Honglian in thought.

After the scruffy Daoist’s reminders, the three noticed that their current state was strange.

”This really is like the Yin-Walking state,” Fang Chen muttered, face tense.

Are we... in the Underworld?

He was Monarch Yan, yet he had been pulled into the Underworld without any awareness. He hadn’t even realized that what filled his body was Yin energy.

That sent a chill down his spine.

This so-called Buddhist Kingdom could only be a Ghost Kingdom in disguise. In a place where Yin-Walking was impossible, someone had carved out a special Underworld where souls could eternally exist without Yin Lifespan.

What kind of power could accomplish such a feat?

”Even so, you’re wrong about one thing. We’ve only entered the underworld. We’re not dead.” ” Xie Aman said coolly as she fixed the Daoist with a steady gaze. ”You seem to know more than you’re saying. You didn’t call Ninth Brother over just to reminisce. Speak.”

The Daoist chuckled. ”Still so stubborn, little girl. Tell me, what’s the difference between being alive and being dead? Your souls are trapped here, unable to return to your bodies. So tell me, does that not count as being dead?”

”Trapped here?” Xie Aman sneered. ”We can leave the same way we came.”

”You can’t,” the Daoist said, shaking his head with a lazy smile. ”I’ve been here longer than I can remember. There’s no way out. Stay long enough, and you’ll start forgetting everything about the living world. Eventually, you won’t even remember who you are.”

”Senior, please speak plainly,” Fang Chen said, his tone cautious. ”How long have you been here? And why would we forget the Mortal Realm? Senior Sister is an eighth-transformation Immortal. What could possibly erase her memory?”

”Indeed,” Xie Aman said. ”I’m an eighth-transformation Immortal. A ninth-transformation immortal might be able to kill me easily, but erase my memory? Impossible.”

”Waiter, bring more tea,” the Daoist suddenly called out.

A servant hurried over with a tray, refilling their cups.

Fang Chen and the others hadn’t eaten or drunk anything since arriving, wary of traps. But the Daoist drank happily, savoring every sip.

”That waiter,” the Daoist said with a grin, ”claimed he was once a mighty cultivator of the Fangcun Mountain when he first came here. He said he was an eighth-transformation immortal too. I took a little nap for a few years and only woke up recently. Look what has become of him.”

Xie Aman’s eyes narrowed, her gaze flicking to the waiter bustling about the shop. ”An eighth transformation Immortal of Fangcun Mountain?”

He looked utterly ordinary. He was a simple mortal, no trace of power or divine bearing left in him.

Fang Chen’s eyes darkened. The name Fangcun Mountain stirred deep memories.

That sect had once ruled the Fangcun Realm. Wang Chongsong’s true body had been one of its grand elders. Fangcun Mountain had feuded bitterly with the Ancient Demonic Sect, a sect likely founded by the very demons who had once awakened and endured to this day.

”You say he was, so he was?” Xie Aman said coldly.

She turned to Fang Chen and Little Immortal Honglian. ”We’re leaving.”

Without hesitation, the two followed her out.

The shabby Daoist hummed a carefree tune, sipping his tea as he watched them go, making no move to stop them.

Outside the teahouse, Xie Aman tried to summon the Black Dragon Ship, but after several attempts, nothing happened.

Her expression darkened. She immediately released waves of Yin energy, forming a storm that carried the three of them back along their original route.

Riding the clouds of Yin mist, Fang Chen remained silent in thought.

That Daoist clearly knew of Yun He. He might be an Anomaly, but his words were far more concerning.

First, they needed to verify whether what he said was true. If they couldn’t leave this place, things would become... very troublesome.

Fang Chen silently marked every landmark on their return path.

They flew for over ten years. Without the Black Dragon Ship, their travel speed was far slower than before.

Eventually, they reached the familiar sea region again, but after flying straight on, they came upon a vast, lush forest.

”It seems... we really can’t get out,” said Little Immortal Honglian, frowning.

”I don’t believe it,” Xie Aman growled. ”No mere realm can trap us.”

She gritted her teeth and led the two of them onward, searching every direction for a way to escape. She even brought out the prayer beads several times, but to no avail. The chant had vanished completely.