Chapter Twenty-Two: White Bones of the Underworld
The devil before him had just finished speaking when Xu Cheng’s fingers began to dissolve, turning into a black, mercury-like liquid that dripped slowly onto the floor. Throughout the process, he felt nothing, only a cool and pleasant sensation coursing through him. But this was... his own body...
Small black holes opened in his chest, from which that unknown black liquid continued to flow.
“What... what’s happening to me...?”
Was this the consequence of comprehending the principles of the Netherworld but overusing the Netherworld Wind Gate Art? Why hadn’t this happened before?
Before Xu Cheng could think further, the black liquid gushed from his mouth and nose.
“Hahaha! Do you know the true essence of the Netherworld?” The devil, who had been seated in meditation, now rose to his feet. “Once you enter the Netherworld, no one remains immortal! Unless... you use the Netherworld White Bone Art to embrace the Netherworld!”
Was it possible that only the Netherworld White Bone Art could save him? But he didn’t want to become like the old devil before him!
Watching his legs melt away, Xu Cheng’s heart sank.
“A thousand eyes see a thousand fates—Netherworld White Bone Art, condense for me!”
With the support of the Thousand Eyes Technique, the runes of the Netherworld White Bone Art swiftly formed within him. His legs dissolved first; in the blink of an eye, his lower body had completely turned into a black, mercury-like liquid, flowing away.
Next was his abdomen, then his chest—Xu Cheng’s potential had been pushed to its absolute limit.
Finally, as the last rune of the White Bone Art coalesced, Xu Cheng, reduced to only a head, no longer needed to actively channel magic; the art itself reached out to the Netherworld.
It was as if a door had opened in the void, releasing a breath from the Netherworld.
A faint, ethereal voice whispered by his ear: “The road home, the road not home, the Netherworld is another shore...”
Under the influence of the Netherworld’s aura, Xu Cheng’s dissolved body began to re-form.
At first, his reformed body looked normal, but soon, a black flame ignited within him, and his flesh and blood rapidly disintegrated.
Looking down, his appearance was now identical to that of the old devil a short distance away.
The old devil, who had been quietly watching Xu Cheng’s transformation, finally revealed an expression of recognition, as if seeing a kindred spirit.
“The Netherworld is the road of no return. You and I are both strangers in this land. Henceforth, you too are a Messenger of the Netherworld!”
The old devil spoke calmly.
The transformation left Xu Cheng at a loss. The gleaming white bones he now wore bore no resemblance to a disciple of the Daoist sect—he looked more like a demon.
No, I still have the Art of Rebirth from Severed Limbs!
Xu Cheng’s eyes lit up. He activated the Art of Rebirth, and as strands of new flesh began to form, they were instantly consumed by the fierce black flames that enveloped his body.
Was there truly no way out?
“Waste of effort! If you could restore your flesh with the Art of Rebirth, do you think I’d still look like this?”
There was a cold sneer in the old devil’s voice.
Seated in meditation, Xu Cheng carefully examined the spells he had mastered. After being baptized by the Netherworld, every spell he knew was now marked by its power. Take the Golden Body of Supreme Purity, for instance—where once casting it made his whole body shine with golden light, now it formed a sinister suit of black armor over his body instead.
“Do you like your new spells?” the old devil asked with a trace of malicious amusement.
“Is there truly no way to rid myself of the Netherworld?” Xu Cheng asked as he tested the Thousand Eyes Technique.
“To be rid of the Netherworld? Are you dreaming? With its blessing, every spell you cast will be enhanced. Isn’t that a good thing?” the old devil replied, just as he noticed the two glowing red orbs in Xu Cheng’s eye sockets.
Those crimson orbs were the manifestation of the Thousand Eyes Technique.
“Look! Isn’t it impressive?”
The old devil stretched out a hand and drew a circle in the air, which turned into a mirror formed of black mist.
In the mirror, Xu Cheng’s new form was reflected.
“This... is me?”
Touching the bones of his own face, Xu Cheng spoke softly.
“Every Messenger of the Netherworld walks the world on my behalf, collecting mortal souls—good or evil, all are meritorious!”
Just then, a voice, neither male nor female, echoed out—so, this was the Messenger’s duty.
“You heard that, didn’t you? New Messenger of the Netherworld! Let’s go!”
The old devil rose and grabbed Xu Cheng.
“W-what are you doing?”
Collecting mortal souls—Xu Cheng had heard it, though he remained dazed.
“Of course, to harvest souls! Since you’re new, I’ll be generous. The first town we reach, its souls are yours for the taking!”
The old devil’s tone was magnanimous, as though he meant to let Xu Cheng claim an entire town’s worth of souls.
“No... I don’t want it!”
Xu Cheng backed away repeatedly; once, killing a chicken would have cost him half his courage—now, he was to kill... people.
“If you don’t want it, then I’ll take it!”
The old devil waved his wide sleeve, sweeping Xu Cheng along as they rushed toward the nearest town.
They stood atop a mountain, overlooking a sizable town bustling with people.
“I’ll ask you one last time—do you really not want it?”
Though the old devil’s face was fleshless, Xu Cheng was certain he wore a wicked grin.
“Absolutely not!”
Xu Cheng shook his head resolutely.
“Fool!”
The old devil snorted coldly, and the Netherworld Gate in his palm suddenly expanded, floating in the air.
With a thunderous boom, the gate swung open, violently sucking in the townsfolk below.
One by one, ordinary people were drawn inside; some tried to run, but found escape impossible.
In the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, everyone in the town was swallowed by the Netherworld Gate.
The old devil then closed the gate, which promptly spat out a fragrant pill.
A pill refined from the water of the Netherworld, with a surprisingly pleasant aroma.
Xu Cheng could only watch helplessly—he was powerless, for the old devil’s strength was unmatched, and the two of them were now bound together.
“Delicious!”
The old devil opened his mouth wide, and as a wisp of black smoke rose from the pill and entered his mouth, the dark mist around him surged violently, his power growing stronger.
So, harvesting souls brought rewards from the underworld. If Xu Cheng refused to do so, the gap between him and this old devil would only widen.
To think of escaping the Netherworld’s grasp was nothing more than a joke.
Yet to harvest souls—Xu Cheng asked himself—he simply could not bring himself to act with such cold cruelty.
“Is there truly no code of conduct for Messengers of the Netherworld?”
Xu Cheng tried to sound stern, but in the face of the old devil, his voice faltered.
“You’re being naïve! The world treats us as outcasts—so why shouldn’t we treat the world as our fodder?”
The old devil’s aura did not diminish; as he spoke, his presence seemed to affect the very heavens, dark clouds gathering and lightning streaking across the sky. “Besides, do you really think, looking like you do now, that anyone at your old sect would recognize you?”
“No—they will definitely recognize me!”
Xu Cheng answered urgently.
“I’ll tell them you’re already dead!”
His words rang in Xu Cheng’s ears, and at that moment thunder exploded overhead, deafening. If word spread that he was dead, who would believe that this ghastly form was still Xu Cheng, still the one called Enlightened?
More likely, the name Enlightened would be lost to him forever.
“How absurd!”
With a sweep of his great sleeve, the old devil, like a giant raven, carried Xu Cheng away toward the next town.