Chapter 113: The Underworld King Comes to the Rescue

I am fully aware of the situation before me; with my current abilities, I cannot hold them off. Therefore, I must strike first. Only by taking the initiative can Wan’er and I successfully escape. Lingering here would only bring trouble.

With that thought, I swiftly drew the Phoenix Pool Sword from my back. Fortunately, the strength from last night still lingered; as the sword slipped from its sheath, its blade gleamed long and sharp.

I shifted my body to the side and swung the sword at Old Zhao in a single strike.

With a loud bang, my arm tingled painfully, and the sword nearly slipped from my grasp. Yet, when I looked at Old Zhao, he stood there unmoved. Damn, what kind of martial arts has this guy mastered to be so formidable?

“Wang Dachuan, what other tricks do you have?” Old Zhao’s figure flickered as he suddenly appeared before me. Raising his wolf-tooth club, he brought it crashing down toward me. “You crippled one of my arms; I’ll cripple one of your legs.”

“Bang!”

Just as the club descended toward my thigh, Wan’er suddenly snatched up a wooden stick from somewhere and struck his head fiercely. She must have summoned all her strength because Old Zhao was stunned, dazed and blinking in shock.

Infuriated by the blow, Old Zhao ignored me and lunged toward Wan’er instead. The iron wolf-tooth club slammed down toward her head with a thunderous crash.

My heart pounded wildly—if that blow had landed on Wan’er, she would have been done for.

At that critical moment, a sharp, piercing cry came from nowhere. The sound was slender and sharp as a blade, like an arrow slicing through the night sky. A blue light flashed before my eyes, and Old Zhao’s protective energy shield shattered explosively. He was hurled far backward.

Seeing this, I quickly stood up, raised the Phoenix Pool Sword, and charged at Old Zhao. Without his shield, he was vulnerable. The sword’s gleam flashed past him, and with a scream, the wretched man was cleaved in two.

Though I felt a twinge of guilt for killing him in such a manner, a sense of justice prevailed. For a despicable fiend like him—an evil demon who tore out people’s hearts to raise shadow soldiers for Xing Yun—no method was too ruthless. He deserved death.

Everything unfolded so suddenly, and with Old Zhao’s demise, everyone else began to retreat slowly. Only Yueyue remained standing. I made up my mind. She was no longer the fragile girl she once was. Like Old Zhao and Xing Yun, she had become a killing demon. I longed to slay her with a single stroke, yet I could not. That night, I saw her with someone resembling Wang Ying. I needed to hear the truth from her own mouth. Strange—why hadn’t I seen her these past few days?

“Yueyue, Yueyue, do you still recognize me?” I straightened and held the Phoenix Pool Sword firmly, not wishing to attack. Just now, with someone’s help, I had defeated Old Zhao, which bolstered my confidence.

It was then I realized someone had intervened—someone had shattered Old Zhao’s energy shield and knocked him down, giving me the opportunity. Who was this ally? The magical weapon was potent and struck without revealing itself, swift and fierce. It not only broke Old Zhao’s shield but also delivered a powerful attack. If only I possessed such a technique.

“Who are you? How dare you kill Master Xing Yun’s protector? I’ll take your life for this!” Yueyue’s eyes froze cold, showing no sign of recognition. It seemed this girl was beyond saving.

Without warning, her body trembled and she lunged at me with fierce speed. Her steps were sharp, her body airborne, arms spread like a hawk’s wings. Her hands resembled eagle talons—these very hands had once seized many souls, torn open the bellies of those she drained, and ripped out their hearts.

She had become a demon. I could no longer reason with her. Since she attacked, I had no choice but to fight back. I flicked my wrist, flipping the sword, and the blade’s gleam surged toward Yueyue.

But before the sword could touch her, my entire body stiffened as if struck by lightning. The sword in my hand froze mid-air. A prickling numbness spread across my scalp, and my strength instantly drained away. From the corner of my eye, I saw a blue, translucent shadow drifting from my body.

This shadow twisted and was drawn into Yueyue’s palm. Panic surged within me—no, I had fallen victim to Yueyue’s soul-sucking dark technique. My soul was being pulled toward her. The power of this dark art was overwhelming. Though I knew I was trapped, there was nothing I could do.

Suddenly, a low, resonant cry cut through the sky. A streak of azure light flashed by, followed by a white mist materializing before me. It landed and took form, reaching out and grabbing the blue shadow. With a sharp slap, it struck my forehead. I staggered and fell to the ground. I could move again—the soul Yueyue had drawn was forcibly reclaimed.

I shook my body and rose to see my second uncle standing before me. Dressed in a gray robe, his expression calm, he stood with his hands folded behind his back.

“Dachuan, are you alright?” he asked quietly, not reaching out to help me up.

“Second Uncle, you… you’ve finally come,” I said, feeling a mix of relief and embarrassment.

On the other side stood five men—the five great guardians of my second uncle.

“Who are you?” Yueyue and her companions seemed to realize the weight of my uncle’s presence and instinctively took a step back.

“I am the King of the Netherworld. I do not wish to be hostile to the living, nor to Master Xing Yun. But since you have bullied my nephew, I must intervene. Leave now, and I will not harm you,” my uncle said calmly, refusing to look at Yueyue and the others.

“King of the Netherworld? Let me see what you’re capable of,” snarled a fierce-looking young monk from the group. His prominent temples suggested he was young but skilled in martial arts.

My uncle did not reply directly, only humming softly.

“King of the Netherworld, you dare challenge humanity? Today, I will capture you first,” the young monk boasted, shifting his form as a series of shadows leapt toward my uncle.

The art of displacement—blurring the line between reality and illusion—is a physical cultivation technique from the Diamond Sutra. The most advanced masters of this skill can pass through their opponent’s body in an instant, causing death. Wei Qi had told me about it; I never expected to witness it here.

My uncle remained still, hands clasped behind his back. Flicking his fingers, a blue light shot forth with a faint chirp. With a sharp hiss, the young monk collapsed, his arm pierced through, his clothes torn and emitting faint smoke. My uncle had shown mercy—had he struck his heart, the boy would have been finished.

Without moving, my uncle subdued the three top warriors under Master Xing Yun. Seeing this, Yueyue and her group realized they were no match and retreated swiftly.

Wan’er helped me up from the ground.

“Second Uncle, I… I was just looking for you,” I said awkwardly.

“Were you bullied?” His expression was indifferent, lacking the warmth he once showed me in life. Perhaps it was the effect of death.

I nodded and recounted everything that had happened since returning.

My uncle pondered. “Dachuan, logically, I should teach you some techniques so you can stand firm in the mortal and spirit realms. But now, as the King of the Netherworld, if I teach you magic to fight your enemies, it would inevitably strain the relationship between the Netherworld and the living. Whoever wins would bring disaster. Therefore, I cannot teach you.”

I was deeply disappointed. When I saw my uncle, I was ecstatic—his skills were profound. Standing almost still, he subdued Yueyue and the others with ease. Such power would be more than enough against Master Xing Yun. Yet, why wouldn’t he teach me? Is he still my uncle?

I wondered if he resented me for killing with my palm thunder technique, now existing as a half-ghost, half-human entity. Perhaps that was why he withheld his teachings. But that made no sense—if he hated me, he wouldn’t have come to save me.

Analyzing carefully, my uncle had good reason. Even today, he intervened only to save me, harming none of Yueyue’s group. Old Zhao’s death was by my hand alone. My uncle’s actions prove he does not wish to make enemies with Xing Yun and his followers. If he taught me Netherworld magic to combat them, it would blur the lines and make me a traitor to the living.

My uncle is wise. His choices protect both the Netherworld and me.

But now, what should I do next?