Chapter Fifty-One: Blood Jade

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Iron Bull’s target was set squarely on Xu Cheng.

“Just in time!”

Xu Cheng stood his ground, unafraid, blocking Iron Bull’s punch with a chain wreathed in black flames.

With a loud bang, Iron Bull stumbled back several steps, his hand throbbing with pain. If not for the protection of his Jade Elixir’s power, a mere touch of the Netherflame would have reduced his hand to ashes.

“What a powerful spell!” Iron Bull muttered inwardly.

He glanced at the battlefield. Though Chrysanthemum had the upper hand, both Cen Ningyue and Niu Dazhuang’s cultivation was still lacking. Even together, they struggled against a single Golden Core stage master.

A swift victory was necessary!

Unleashing his full power, black liquid dripped from Xu Cheng’s hands onto the ground and surged swiftly toward Iron Bull.

“Green Bull’s Mighty Hooves!”

With a sudden stomp, the burly man shattered the advancing spell, sending shockwaves that cracked the earth in dozens of places around him—a testament to his enormous strength.

But Xu Cheng’s magic was not so easily thwarted. The black liquid on the ground transformed into countless sharp spikes, glinting with a white light so keen it seemed able to pierce anything.

“Wild Ox’s Horn Charge!”

Iron Bull roared, lunging forward with both hands, channeling immense force like a bull goring its foe. He crashed into Xu Cheng’s spell, sparks flying fiercely.

He truly was like a wild bull incarnate. While Iron Bull was occupied defending against the spikes, Xu Cheng deftly manipulated the Netherflame chains to swiftly ensnare his body.

With a grinding, cracking sound, the chains tightened, crushing Iron Bull’s bones until they splintered and broke.

With a final roar, Iron Bull struggled to break free, but the more he fought, the tighter the chains drew. His bones were shattered throughout his body; only the formidable vitality of a martial cultivator kept him barely alive.

With a casual gesture, Xu Cheng summoned the Gate of the Underworld and tossed Iron Bull inside, then turned his attention to the others.

At present, Cen Ningyue and Niu Dazhuang were in the greatest peril.

“Are you two trying to tickle me?” the Golden Core master sneered, looking at Cen Ningyue and Niu Dazhuang.

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He was unaware that danger was already upon him. With his back to Xu Cheng, and Cen Ningyue’s ghostly chains unable to hold him, he had grown overconfident, toying with his opponents like a cat with mice.

His sword light easily shredded Cen Ningyue’s chains; even Niu Dazhuang’s spiked club could be destroyed with a casual flick.

Cen Ningyue spotted Xu Cheng nearby. Their eyes met, and with only two ghost chains thick as fingers left in her grasp, she hurled them at her opponent.

“Still resisting?” the man mocked, slicing through the chains with his sword light and lunging straight for Cen Ningyue’s throat.

At that critical moment, Xu Cheng’s Netherflame chains sprang forth, binding the man tightly in an instant.

The foe battling Yan Mengdie caught sight of Xu Cheng tossing his subordinate into the underworld, and realized Iron Bull had vanished—clearly, his fate was grim. In that distracted instant, Yan Mengdie’s mist enveloped his hands.

A moment later, his flesh was stripped away, leaving only bone.

The methods of spell cultivators were indeed unfathomable.

A flash of pain crossed the man’s face; it seemed today might be his end. Yet those who reached the Dao-forging stage were not so easily vanquished. In a heartbeat, his entire body erupted in sword light, transforming into a drawn blade.

“Man and Sword as One! Cut them down!”

Ascending into the air, he became a giant sword of light, slashing down at Yan Mengdie.

This was a desperate move—one moment’s carelessness, and he could have taken a life with him.

Under Xu Cheng’s command, black liquid surged forth, condensing into a shield before Yan Mengdie.

The glossy black shield held for barely ten seconds before shattering, but the blow’s force was greatly diminished, and the time bought was enough for Yan Mengdie to evade safely.

His spiritual energy spent, the man collapsed to the ground, resigned to death.

Xu Cheng felt no pity. He sent the man into the underworld as well.

Only one opponent remained, locked in combat with Chrysanthemum.

“Well? Do you still intend to resist?”

They surrounded the last man—if memory served, his name was Shi Lei.

With a muffled grunt, Shi Lei prepared to self-destruct. The Golden Core in his body rapidly fractured, energy building for several seconds before erupting in a cataclysmic blast.

Luckily, Xu Cheng reacted swiftly, pulling everyone clear of the explosion’s center.

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Otherwise, they might have been gravely wounded by the blast.

After some time, Xu Cheng was unscathed, but Yan Mengdie, caught by the shockwave, was still reeling, her head buzzing.

At the heart of the explosion, a pit twenty meters across and nearly eight meters deep marked the immense destructive power.

But by detonating his own Golden Core, Shi Lei had obliterated his soul entirely, leaving not even a chance for reincarnation.

“What a waste!” Xu Cheng cursed under his breath. Only then did he offer up Iron Bull and the others as sacrifices to the Underworld, which in turn rewarded him with eight Ghost-Forging Pills.

As the Underworld’s emissary, these pills were precisely what he needed for his own path of forging the Dao.

The Ghost-Forging Pills were of little use to Cen Ningyue and Niu Dazhuang; it was better to give them more True Nether Pills so they could quickly form nine Underworld Seals.

Xu Cheng gave Chrysanthemum only one Ghost-Forging Pill; the rest he intended to use to break through to the Dao-forging stage himself.

Though much of the blood-red mist was scattered by the force of the explosion, a dense cloud still remained. Anyone else would have hesitated to enter it even now.

But Xu Cheng possessed the Gate of the Underworld, whose power could devour all. He summoned the gate, and a powerful suction swept out toward the blood mist.

In the blink of an eye, the mist was gone, along with the red liquid on the ground. In the clearing that remained, a single blood-red, gem-like object appeared not far ahead.

“It’s a Blood Jade!” Yan Mengdie exclaimed. “Legend has it that when jade is placed in the mouth of the dead and buried underground, it absorbs their blood and resentment, forming this very thing! This piece of Blood Jade has been hidden here for so long that it finally caused a supernatural phenomenon. If left unchecked, it might soon become a Blood Fiend! At that point, only Buddhist Law could suppress it—no other spell could contain its power!”

“A Blood Fiend?”

Xu Cheng had heard of such beings. They were said to dwell in the depths of the Nether Blood Sea. If controlled, they could be unleashed upon foes, draining all their blood and even their souls in an instant—a most tyrannical force.

Yet, as mere Blood Jade, it had another purpose: when Xu Cheng advanced to the Nascent Soul stage and could transform objects, he could forge it with other materials into a magical weapon.

He had no desire to turn all living beings into fodder for Blood Jade—such a path was no different from that of Old Demon Qiong.

So he leaned toward the second option: forging the Blood Jade into an artifact with other materials.

With a flick of his sleeve and a secret art, he collected it.

“Come—we must find a quiet place to digest these pills,” Xu Cheng said at once. The five of them departed swiftly; the spiritual disturbances here had been too great, and they dared not attract further attention.