Chapter Seventy-Four: The Ancient Fortress of the Nether Emperor

There was no time to ponder the whereabouts of the woman in white. Yu Youwei led Ning Mofei to the end of the stone steps, where a wave of stale, fishy dampness rushed over them. Instinctively, her body leapt forward. With one arm she held Ning Mofei close, while with the other she drove the Qingshuang Sword straight into the cliff wall, sending up a trail of sparks as they slid downward.

Ning Mofei clung tightly to Yu Youwei, eyes squeezed shut, and cried, “Youwei, I’m not afraid.”

Were it not for the situation, Yu Youwei might have laughed. As it was, she could only sigh inwardly.

They descended for about a thousand meters before a beam of gray-white light shone from below. Yu Youwei spun herself and Ning Mofei around, just as the gray-white flash grazed past her left temple. In the next instant, the innkeeper’s ghastly pale face appeared before them, exuding an eerie, spectral air.

Having survived death once before, Yu Youwei remained calm even in such bizarre circumstances. Ning Mofei too bit his lip hard, making no sound.

“Snow Rakshasa, what are you dawdling for?” an impatient voice echoed from the abyss below.

The innkeeper’s terrifyingly white face vanished without a trace.

Snow Rakshasa—that name sounded so familiar. Where had she heard it before? Yu Youwei shook her head and continued sliding down the cliff. The wind howled past her ears, and everything before her remained shrouded in gray haze. Suddenly, a suspended castle loomed into view, startling her so much she nearly cried out.

The city was gray, its castle spanned by an arched gray bridge that emitted lights of varying shades. Only now did she realize how rich the color gray could be—some shades were pure and flawless, some glinted green like clear seawater, some shimmered like gray silk under sunlight, while others resembled the cold gleam of the Arctic Circle.

Wondering if her eyes were playing tricks, Yu Youwei squeezed them shut and opened them again; everything was still gray. Above the arched bridge, she vaguely made out a vast gray shadow—like someone using a gray brush to sketch an eye onto a gray canvas.

Within the enormous gray eye, countless twisted faces appeared, every one of them marked by despair and terror, as though Death’s scythe hovered above their heads.

A surge of fear welled up in her heart; Yu Youwei dared not look at the giant gray eyes any longer. She shut her eyes on instinct, and when she opened them again, the eyes were gone, and the gray bridge’s glow began to fade.

Gradually, Yu Youwei saw that she stood in a vast square, a black mass of people gathered there, each as motionless as if carved from clay or wood, all staring blankly at the gray castle.

“The Nether Emperor’s Castle is about to open!”

A man’s raspy, duck-like voice shattered the dreadful silence of the square. The crowd erupted, only to be quelled by a powerful, aged voice: “This is the territory of the Killing Alliance. If you want to enter, you must follow our rules.”

A soft laugh sounded from the east side of the square, followed by the gentle voice of a young man: “Heaven’s treasures belong to those worthy. Though the Nether Emperor’s Castle holds the advantage of place, to demand the entire cultivation world obey your rules—surely that’s too much.”

From the west, a woman’s clear, resonant voice called out: “Entering the Nether God’s Castle, everyone must fend for themselves. The Killing Alliance’s rules are unnecessary.”

“Elder Ma of the Celestial Radiance Sect and Lady Lianqi from the Evil Blade Fortress are both here!”

“Not just them—the top orthodox and demonic sects are probably all present. Even if we gain nothing from the opening of the Nether Emperor’s Castle, we’re bound to witness a grand spectacle.”

“If we make it out alive, that’ll be spectacle enough!”

“I just hope I can pick up some scraps left behind.”

The surrounding murmurs made Yu Youwei furrow her brow even tighter. She considered bringing Ning Mofei to join the disciples of the Celestial Radiance Sect, but in such chaos, even they wouldn’t have the manpower to look after him, and he would only become a target. After some thought, she took his hand and retreated toward the edge of the square.

The gray castle’s gates creaked open, spilling forth beams of gray-white light that formed a staircase stretching to the edge of the square. The crowd surged forward like a tide. To Yu Youwei, it seemed as if a beast with a bloody maw was devouring helpless ants.

“Aren’t we going in?” Ning Mofei whispered.

“Aren’t you afraid?” Yu Youwei was surprised—this timid boy who was frightened by ghosts in his own woods, and yet could remain so calm here.

Scratching his head, Ning Mofei replied in a dreamy voice, “It’s as if something inside is calling me.”

Her reason told her to flee with Ning Mofei, or at least stay outside the castle. But seeing the longing in his eyes, Yu Youwei found herself unable to resist; she took his hand and let the crowd carry them forward.

Upon passing through the gates, they found not the expected grand hall, but a space suffused with gray light, the varied shades creating complex patterns of light and shadow, drawing people in until they wandered, dazed, like the walking dead.

“This castle is strange—be careful. There’s something inside that will be useful to the little fool,” the Red Flame Sword suddenly spoke, its tone gruff but tinged with concern, giving Yu Youwei the sense of a senior watching over a junior.

“Are all these people bewitched?” Yu Youwei glanced around, heart still pounding with fear.

“If not for the Qingshuang’s instinct to protect its master, you’d be worse off than them,” said the Red Flame Sword bluntly.

Taking advantage of its willingness to speak, Yu Youwei quickly asked, “Why can Mofei sense someone calling him in the castle? Is the remnant soul in the Soul Devouring Sword up to something? Is there any way to deal with it completely?”

Since this was a conversation of the mind, Yu Youwei wasn’t worried that the remnant soul of Ye Jiuyou hiding in the Soul Devouring Sword would overhear. After a moment’s silence, the Red Flame Sword replied, “It’s only because that fellow is suppressing it that the Soul Devouring Sword is manageable. Otherwise, the little fool wouldn’t be able to control it—the sword spirit would take over, turning him into a mindless killing machine.”

“The sword spirit of the Soul Devouring Sword is still there?” Yu Youwei was shocked, a flash of cold light appearing in her eyes. “That remnant soul was hiding such an important secret. Damn him!”

“The sword spirit of the Soul Devouring Sword was badly damaged and is still in a dormant state. That fellow can’t sense it, and only I am aware of it,” Red Flame said arrogantly.

Biting her lip to keep from crying out, Yu Youwei steadied herself and asked uneasily, “Just what are you, really? Can you give me a hint?”

Even when Yu Youwei addressed it with respect, the Red Flame Sword, which had recognized her as its master, was unmoved. “Some things are beyond the reach of an ant at your level. Work hard on your cultivation—when you reach the proper realm, you’ll be qualified to know.”

Being looked down on by her own beast companion was bad enough—it was, after all, a “divine beast.” Now even her sword spirit bullied her. Life seemed truly bitter. Yu Youwei gazed resentfully at the Red Flame Sword, curled around her wrist like a bracelet. But, wait—if the bear cub was a divine beast in its infancy, couldn’t Red Flame be a damaged divine sword? Or, well, even an immortal sword would do!