Chapter Thirty-Eight: Qingzhou City

All the way, the five of them exchanged no words. The closer they drew to Qingzhou City, the darker the sky became, until finally, they could not see their hands before their faces. Had they been ordinary folk, they would surely have lost their way in that pitch-black wilderness.

The cold grew ever sharper, and the plants withered to nothing, as if winter had descended. Yet Xu Cheng remembered clearly that outside Qingzhou, the world was still in the bloom of spring, making this scene of deep winter eerily unnatural.

Chrysanthemum and the others hesitated, uncertain.

“Right Envoy, sir!” Chrysanthemum’s voice broke the silence.

Xu Cheng gestured for quiet and extended his hand. Black snowflakes drifted from the sky.

“Black snow! And it carries the faint traces of resentment!” he observed.

The black snow melted against Yan Mengdie’s warmth, rising as threads of dark vapor. Xu Cheng, as the Right Envoy of the Netherworld, could not experience this. For those of the Netherworld, caught between life and death, there was no body heat; thus, the black snow would not melt.

As they pressed onward, the black snowflakes grew larger and the wind more violent. Even Yan Mengdie, whose cultivation had reached the Dao-forging realm, struggled to withstand it.

“Should we continue?” Chrysanthemum asked, watching Yan Mengdie shiver.

“We’re already here. If we retreat now…” Yan Mengdie replied, enduring the cold.

Xu Cheng’s flame arts, affected by the Netherworld mark, transformed into underworld fire; attempting to warm the group would only make the cold more severe. With no other choice, he cast the Minor Earth Creation and Minor Water Creation techniques, enveloping Yan Mengdie to lessen the chill.

Soon, they faced a black blizzard. Their boots crunched against the ground, buried beneath at least a meter of black snow. Any misstep could see them swallowed by the drifts, greatly slowing their progress.

What force had twisted the weather so?

The snow buried everything, making it impossible to discern direction. Each was coated in thick layers of black snow, like heavy winter garments—though these “coats” were chilling to the bone.

They lost track of time, until at last, the city walls of Qingzhou appeared before them.

The snow had buried the gates entirely. The plaque that should have hung high above was now within arm’s reach. Perhaps the black snow had never ceased since the tragedy occurred here, falling endlessly.

Climbing atop the wall, they peered inward. Within the city, there was no black snow, nor any sign of drifts—the difference from outside was night and day.

Yet, just ahead, a black dragon lay coiled.

“That is…” Xu Cheng murmured, seeing a dragon for the first time. It was fundamentally different from the dragon transformed by Wu Wenhou Qu Wenbei’s Dragon-Immortal technique.

“Quiet!” Before Xu Cheng could speak further, someone seized the five and whisked them away from the wall.

Dazed, they found themselves in a basement once their vision cleared.

“Just you little ones? And this fellow is a spirit, isn’t he!” Niu Dazhuang was handled like an infant, dangling from the stranger’s grasp.

“Cough, senior, what has happened here?” Xu Cheng asked, realizing these were likely the three vanished Yuanshen-level masters, not monsters.

“I am Dao Wu,” said the first.

“Dao Ning,” said the second.

“Dao Yang,” the third.

“To dispel the horror here, the black dragon must be slain. But the dragon is a terror formed from the severed dragon-vein, having devoured all spirits within a hundred miles!”

“That’s right. The Summer Martial Emperor’s Dragon-Immortal technique originated from the Lin clan here. The Lin family blended their bloodline with the earth-vein, catalyzed by the Dragon-Immortal technique to create a true dragon-vein. Generations of their labor were severed by Emperor Xia Hao, and in their endless resentment and despair, they turned this land into a forbidden domain!” Dao Wu began, Dao Yang supplemented.

Back at the Lü residence, Yun Sheng had claimed the Dragon-Immortal technique came from the True Immortal Record! How could it also originate here? Xu Cheng’s mind was tangled, uncertain whether his Netherworld Envoy abilities could subdue the black dragon within the city.

“You heard them. We must deal with the demon dragon. With your cultivation, you'd best leave and see if the elders of the Demon-Immortal Clan can help!”

As Dao Ning spoke, he cast a glance at Yan Mengdie, treating Xu Cheng as some rootless vagabond. He swept his sleeve, intending to take them away.

“Wait, senior! Might I subdue the demon dragon?” Xu Cheng shed the Minor Earth Creation’s disguise, assuming his skeletal form.

“The Old Demon of Qiong!” Dao Wu snorted, ready to act—but Dao Ning held him back, else they'd have fought for days.

“You are not him. That old demon had at least a Pure Yang Yuanshen cultivation!” Dao Ning coolly replied.

“I… Of course I’m not him. But could my Netherworld Gate subdue the demon dragon?” Xu Cheng was tempted—the dragon's vein and boundless resentment would make a fine reward within the Netherworld.

“We’ve seen the Old Demon Qiong’s Netherworld Gate. Even he might not manage to subdue the demon dragon! Unless…” Dao Wu, now calm, continued; evidently, the Old Demon Qiong had left a deep impression.

“Unless what?” Xu Cheng grumbled at the half-spoken answer.

“Unless the three of us join forces and use the Nine Dragons Sealing Grand Technique. If successful, you can capture it directly into the Netherworld. But we…” Dao Yang continued.

“It would mean exhausting all our power and lifespans! But with a Netherworld Envoy here, we can reincarnate again—what’s a little hardship?” Dao Ning spoke magnanimously. Yet, to expend all power and lifespan was no trivial matter!

“Well then, our lifespans are short anyway. To seek immortality, we must rely on our next lives! Subduing the demon dragon would count as a meritorious deed—perhaps we’ll be reborn well and cultivate faster!” Dao Wu persuaded.

“Little Netherworld Envoy, my concern isn’t the loss of lifespan. The Old Qiong is a scoundrel! So, swear an oath to the Heavenly Dao, or I won’t risk it!” Dao Yang revealed his worry. If Xu Cheng were like the Old Demon Qiong, he might well destroy their souls.

“Rest assured, seniors. I swear by the Heavenly Dao! Should I betray you during the sealing of the demon dragon, may my soul be shattered and my death be wretched!” Xu Cheng raised three fingers to the sky. For cultivators, such vows are binding, and he had no ulterior motive—he merely sought Netherworld rewards, which did not conflict with the three elders.

At last, Dao Yang relaxed. The Heavenly Dao oath was the strongest restraint for those who cultivate.

The three had tried to ambush the demon dragon together before, but had only managed a stalemate, unable to inflict lasting harm.

“Junior brother!”

“Senior brother!”

The three exchanged glances, eyes shining with resolve.