Chapter 117: Struggling for Dear Life

The Lord of the Blood Sea in the Netherworld, the founder of the illustrious Asura clan, established the Asura Sect and became its leader, wielding control over the Asura Path within the Six Paths of Reincarnation. Even setting aside these accomplishments, the mere fact that he transformed the Netherworld Blood Sea into 480 million incarnations of the Blood Divine Sons was enough to astonish the world.

In later generations, it was often said that the Netherworld Blood Sea never dried up, and that the Nether River Patriarch was immortal and indestructible. Whether this was true or exaggerated was uncertain, but the reality was likely close.

At his peak, the Nether River Patriarch could be considered the foremost figure beneath the Supreme Primordial Sage. He possessed both immense cultivation and status, along with 480 million chances for rebirth. Under such circumstances, only the Supreme Primordial Sage himself could pose a threat to him!

Qingxu recalled that after the Investiture of the Gods, Western Buddhism renamed itself as the Shramana Buddhism, becoming the Mahayana school. From then on, it flourished in the West, overshadowing the Daoist orthodoxy and intimidating all directions. Yet, despite this, it never gained much advantage over the Nether River. Without the Nether River, the entire Netherworld would likely have fallen under Buddhist control. To have such a legendary figure appear before him, harboring ill intentions, was terrifying indeed.

Having been seen through, Qingxu could only disperse his divine powers and transform his icy mist into a corporeal form.

“I am the humble Daoist Xuanhuang, greetings to the Nether River Patriarch!” he said, outwardly calm and composed, bowing respectfully while inwardly hastily devising an escape strategy.

“Do you know the Ancestor?” The Nether River’s eyes flashed sharply as he asked. He had always been low-profile; even among thousands of guests at Purple Cloud Palace, few paid attention to him. Very few knew of him now. But with Qingxu’s straightforward words and recent events, his curiosity grew exponentially.

“I have heard my master speak of the Ancestor, saying your divine powers are vast and boundless, nearly rivaling the Supreme Primordial Sage. The feat of transforming the Netherworld Blood Sea into Blood Divine Son incarnations is truly admirable!” Qingxu smiled sincerely, showing genuine respect. He admired the Nether River’s resolute heart in attaining sagehood, his extraordinary courage and endurance. Witnessing Nuwa create humanity and attain enlightenment, and the establishment of the Three Pure Ones, Jieyin, and Zhunti as saints, even if those efforts seemed to falter, they were still awe-inspiring.

At this time, the Nether River had not yet created the Asura clan, let alone established the Asura Sect, so Qingxu only mentioned his feat of transforming the Netherworld Blood Sea.

“How do you know of the Blood Divine Sons? Who is your master?” The Nether River stared intently, his mind tumultuous. The transformation of the Netherworld Blood Sea was a spur-of-the-moment act when his cultivation had stagnated thousands of years ago. To date, he had only forged a few hundred Blood Divine Sons, far from completing the vast transformation. He believed no one in the prehistoric world knew of this, yet Qingxu spoke openly, arousing his wariness.

Looking at the warm smile before him, the Nether River felt unfathomable depths, as if all his secrets were laid bare, while he knew nothing of Qingxu’s background. This was deeply unsettling. He desired to kill this person immediately, but first, he needed to learn who his master was. Colliding with a formidable opponent would be disastrous.

“My master’s name I must respectfully withhold, but I do know a little about the Blood Divine Sons,” Qingxu replied.

“Heh heh, no need to say then, just leave your life!” The Nether River sneered cruelly, his face twisted in a grimace, radiating murderous intent.

Among those the Nether River feared were only the Dao Ancestor Hongjun and the Six Saints of the Heavens, but he was quite familiar with them. Hongjun aside, none of the Six Saints’ disciples had reached the True Immortal level, let alone the Great Dao Golden Immortal. Confident that Qingxu was no disciple of Hongjun or the Six Saints, the Nether River felt no need for further caution.

Though low-key, the Nether River was proud and arrogant, always looking down on others. Even the Six Saints were beneath him in his eyes. He believed himself their equal, only lacking the Great Dao Sovereign rank to become a true sage.

“Has the Nether River turned murderous?” Qingxu had thought his words would make him hesitate, but now it was clear he had overestimated.

Faced with a threat to his life, Qingxu wasted no words. He swiftly vanished backward, blending into the chaotic crowd, continuously shifting his form—sometimes a demon, sometimes an aquatic being—disappearing from the Nether River’s sight in an instant.

The dense crowd blocked vision.

“A desperate struggle!” The Nether River laughed disdainfully. His jet-black, shining eyes suddenly flooded with red, bloodlight shimmering forth, exuding a fierce and brutal aura.

This was the Nether River’s pupil technique, the “Netherworld Blood Eye,” capable of penetrating all illusions of the heavens, gazing up through the thirty-three celestial heavens and down into the nineteen layers of Netherworld hell. At full power, even the tiniest details of the vast prehistoric world—every flower, blade of grass, ant, or grain of sand—were revealed. It was truly a terrifying divine skill.

Now, as he deployed it, the dense crowd seemed to blur and become unreal. Among them, one blurred figure stood out. Within that translucent form was a clear, solid image—Qingxu himself.

Grasping Qingxu’s movement, the Nether River flashed forward in pursuit, arriving behind him within two or three breaths. Yet, he did not strike immediately, instead wearing a playful, cat-and-mouse expression.

Though fleeing, Qingxu kept alert, eyes and ears attuned in all directions. He detected the Nether River’s arrival behind him instantly, alarmed, but relieved when the other did not attack immediately.

Despite his anger at the mockery, Qingxu was powerless. His current incarnation’s cultivation was far inferior, and they were not on the same level. Any fight would be a swift defeat.

Qingxu was unsure of the Nether River’s exact power but certain he was a Supreme Sage-level force, while Qingxu himself was only in early Great Dao Golden Immortal stage—unequal to even mention. The gap was as vast as heaven and earth, like precious jade and common stone.

He drew forth a low-grade Profound Ice Thorn, silently channeling his primordial spirit power into it.

Since the Ice Ancestor crafted the Profound Ice Thorn for work in the Ice Soul Mine, it bore innate restrictions but required little refinement to unleash most of its power. Having worked there for some time, Qingxu was adept at using the Profound Ice Thorn, quickly perfecting its transformation.

Whizz!

The Profound Ice Thorn transformed into a thin streak of icy blue light, shooting straight at the Nether River’s brow.

“Do you really think you can harm the Ancestor? How presumptuous.” The Nether River saw the Profound Ice Thorn was a low-grade postnatal spiritual treasure, wielded by a mere early Great Dao Golden Immortal, posing no threat. He did not even bother to dodge, instead charging head-on at Qingxu, wielding the Yuan Tu and Abysmal twin swords in his left hand while his right formed a claw to grasp him.

The Nether River was indeed arrogant, as was natural. His strength vastly surpassed Qingxu’s, so he was confident and saw no need to use his treasures. Using artifacts against a mere Great Dao Golden Immortal would be humiliating for a Supreme Sage.

Smirking slyly, Qingxu activated the Profound Ice Thorn’s special ability.

Boom!

With a self-destruct, the Profound Ice Thorn turned to ashes, but unleashed an immense surge of ultimate energy toward the Nether River’s face.

Ice at its limit gave birth to blazing flames—a fusion of yin and yang energy, the Supreme Sage’s primordial force.

A vast wave of icy flames surged forth. The Nether River was shaken; the distance was too close to evade. At this critical moment, he ceased pondering how Qingxu could wield yin-yang energy and hurriedly raised the Yuan Tu and Abysmal swords to shield his face, simultaneously enveloping himself in a yin-yang energy protective barrier.

Bang!

Screams echoed as the blast struck the Nether River directly, scattering residual waves. Nearby beings suffered—some frozen solid, others charred. The attack affected not only bodies but primordial spirits; the fortunate True Spirits survived, the unfortunate were utterly destroyed.

After striking, Qingxu fled desperately, caring little for the Nether River’s condition. He knew well that the ultimate energy from a low-grade Profound Ice Thorn’s self-destruction was only a successful sneak attack, unlikely to kill or even seriously injure the Nether River. His goal was merely to buy time.

“The ultimate Profound Ice energy? Supreme Sage yin-yang primordial force? Truly wondrous! The Ancestor’s curiosity grows,” the Nether River said, walking forward, adjusting his robes. A contemplative smile played on his face. His Netherworld Blood Eye flared again, pinpointing Qingxu’s location before he vanished in a flash, leaving behind a scene of ice sculptures, scorched remains, and pained cries.

The first sneak attack was successful, but a second was unrealistic. The previous event curtailed the Nether River’s ease; Qingxu’s situation had become perilous.

“Alas! If only I had a mid- or high-grade Profound Ice Thorn to self-destruct, it might have wounded the Nether River a little and increased my chances of escape!” Qingxu, feeling the Nether River’s steady pursuit, was desperate, racking his brain for solutions, but given their vast disparity in strength, all plans were futile.

It was only the Nether River’s curiosity that delayed his immediate intention to slay Qingxu; otherwise, it would have been done in an instant.

Now Qingxu fled desperately, but to the Nether River, it was merely a futile struggle.

“An early Great Dao Golden Immortal dares to run from the Ancestor?” the Nether River shook his head with a smile.

Though the Supreme Sage and Great Dao Golden Immortal stages seemed separated by only one level, the chasm was immeasurable. To a Supreme Sage, an early Great Dao Golden Immortal was no more than fish on a chopping block. The Nether River’s restraint was merely to see if there was any “surprise” left. Only at the brink of life and death could one’s full potential be unleashed.