Chapter 122

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Chapter 122: Title

"Should we explore the area?" Yang Xingyu suggested.

"No."

"Not interested," Qiao Feiyu responded.

"Honestly, you’re no fun. With just half a day free, you’re not planning to return for cultivation, are you?" Yang Xingyu pressed skeptically.

Qiao Feiyu shot him a glance that plainly said, "Must you ask?"

Yang Xingyu: …Show-off. Think your cultivation obsession makes you superior?

"Fine, I’ll go alone. Inform the others. Call if needed—I won’t go far."

"Mm." Qiao Feiyu turned and ambled back toward the hotel.

Yang Xingyu lingered by the riverbank, musing on his incompatibility with the group. The Special Bureau teemed with cultivation zealots; few shared his appetite for life’s simpler pleasures.

Then inspiration struck.

He retrieved his phone and messaged a certain fox back home.

The video call connected instantly.

"Well now, Hu Mei! You’re unusually early today," he remarked, eyeing the crisply dressed figure on screen. Then he frowned. "Wait—why the formal attire? Special occasion?"

Hu Mei stretched lazily, the black suit paradoxically enhancing her youthful charm. Though her tie sat perfectly knotted, an air of casual elegance prevailed.

"Sudden assignment."

"Since when?"

"Emergency dispatch yesterday." Her ears flickered—she’d clearly retracted her tail to avoid tailoring complications.

"You’ve arrived already?" Hu Mei inquired.

"Fate toys with us. One mission ends, another begins."

"Merely assisting Old Qiao while sightseeing," Yang Xingyu countered with a shrug. "Your mission’s nature?"

Hu Mei’s eyes sparkled. "Spirit cultivator business. A tier-six assignment, truth be told—I’m slightly nervous."

Yang Xingyu: "Nervous? You’re no novice."

"Partnering with a demon lord changes everything. You’d understand if it were you." Her quivering ears betrayed exhilaration.

Though a half-demon, Hu Mei’s awakened bloodline during the Spiritual Energy resurgence pulsed with potent spirit heritage.

To spirit cultivators, encountering a demon lord paralleled human audiences with the Commander. Her excitement seemed justified, yet…

Yang Xingyu pondered, then frowned. "Aren’t demon lords reclusive? Wasn’t it the East Sea Dragon Lord’s brother we met in Hanzhou City?"

Only one demon lord currently dwelled in the human realm, bearing humanity’s official designation: Dragon Lord of the East Sea.

Despite his title, this sovereign commanded not merely eastern waters but all maritime territories bordering Huaxia’s Nine Provinces.

——Whoever the Dragon Lord decides to submerge gets submerged in mere seconds.

In the past, America frequently sought excuses to prowl near Zhongxia’s territorial waters. On one occasion, they had their ships capsized without mercy—every vessel that came met the same fate.

Though America repeatedly issued international condemnations, Zhongxia officials remained evasive, claiming the Dragon Lord simply disliked intruders in his domain, and that human cultivators maintained peaceful relations with spirit cultivators, making direct intervention inappropriate.

The truth, as Yang Xingyu knew, was that only one capsized ship had drifted into Zhongxia’s inner waters, promptly salvaged by local fishermen.

America could only fume helplessly.

Let alone Zhongxia’s formidable reputation—in this era of Spiritual Energy’s Awakening, which nation dared treat Zhongxia lightly?

As the sole uninterrupted civilization spanning thousands of years, now revitalized by ancient powers resurfacing through the Spiritual Energy resurgence, only fools would court conflict.

"You mean Prince Ao Ming? He usually handles such affairs, but this situation involves the Mountain and Sea Realm."

"Recall when the Mountain and Sea Realm merged with the human realm, delivering countless spirit cultivators?" Hu Mei prompted.

"Of course," Yang Xingyu nodded. Most present-day spirit cultivators had arrived during that convergence. Without that influx from the Mountain and Sea Realm,

Zhongxia wouldn’t be teeming with spirit cultivators as it was now.

Tier One and Two spirit cultivators remained bound to their primal forms, while only Tier Three could assume human guise. Many originated from critically endangered species now under strict protection.

The Special Bureau arranged employment for those mastering human form.

The rest claimed unemployment benefits like ordinary citizens—though many proud spirit cultivators worked part-time capturing abyssal creatures or entertaining at zoos rather than accept charity.

"I remember you lecturing them on modern society’s essentials. Senior spirit cultivators addressing you as ‘teacher’ must’ve been gratifying."

"That didn’t sign me up for visiting the Mountain and Sea Realm—" Hu Mei gritted her teeth, eyes rolling skyward.

"Those researchers vanished in Shennongjia entered the Mountain and Sea Realm, emerged with spirit cultivators, then foolishly returned for further study after being rescued."

"They overstepped—unsealing the inter-realm passage."

"Full convergence is inevitable now." Hu Mei gestured sharply. "Currently, only we can cross. Their side remains blocked—for now."

Yang Xingyu stared in shock, memories surfacing of Fusang’s disaster—when Tokyo transformed into hellscape during the realm of the dead’s overlap.

"You’re saying the Mountain and Sea Realm’s breach could trigger another Fusang catastrophe?"

No wonder scientists bore blame for apocalyptic scenarios. They’d pried open dimensional gates despite claiming Spiritual Energy research remained rudimentary.

"They call it accidental. Believe that?" Hu Mei’s expression screamed disbelief.

"Whether fusion mirrors Fusang’s disaster remains unclear… If it does, those researchers better prepare apology speeches." Her lips twisted wryly.

From spirit cultivators’ accounts, the Mountain and Sea Realm’s expanse dwarfed any single city’s footprint.

Yang Xingyu scratched his chin. "Why involve you in such momentous affairs?"

"Hey! I’m a modern-era spirit cultivator!" She coughed. "Perhaps my Zhongxia citizenship might smooth diplomatic tensions?"

At Yang Xingyu’s skeptical look, Hu Mei relented: "Truthfully, the Dragon Lord insisted. I received urgent summons otherwise."

"This outfit chafes terribly."

"Details remain unclear. Expect full debriefing upon my return."

"Young Master Leng agreed to escort me—departure time approaches." Hu Mei glanced at her wrist, abruptly terminating the call.

“……”

“When did you get so friendly with Young Master Leng?” Yang Xingyu sighed, feeling as if his companion had sought new friends behind his back.

Scrolling through news on his phone, Yang Xingyu stumbled upon an article.

“Holy Alliance? What’s this? To combat and eradicate abyssal creatures, the Holy Light Church pleads for divine salvation… the holy light orb… establishing alliances between nations…”

“Doesn’t this sound eerily similar to that European coalition that collapsed a decade ago?”

*

Days earlier.

A figure leaped from an aircraft, hurtling downward. Within moments, the space around her warped, and she vanished mid-descent.

Shortly after, a plane disappeared over Africa’s Red Sea. Despite relentless surveillance by Blue Star’s nations, no trace of the aircraft was ever detected.

Ethiopia, Africa.

A girl materialized abruptly inside a house. The miniature storm from distorted space ravaged the room, scattering belongings in chaotic disarray.

Her striking demonic-purple eyes gradually softened to a pale violet hue—still unusual yet less hypnotic than before.

This was Seki, who had fled the plane. Pale-faced, she dusted her skirt and scanned her surroundings.

“Where am I?”

To escape swiftly, she’d shattered her chains and jumped. Mid-fall, she’d harnessed her powers to warp space, teleporting elsewhere.

Seki’s control remained imprecise, limiting her teleportation range. This leap likely spanned no more than two thousand kilometers.

The empty house was a relief. She refused to silence witnesses mere moments after evading *that woman*.

Though orderly, the environment grated on her.

She pushed open a window, scrutinized the quiet streets, then slipped outside unseen.

Her prior capture stemmed from recklessness—no concealment, no caution. Had she been subtler, she might’ve avoided detection entirely. Worse, she’d been forced to expend precious deity-bestowed power.

Abyssal power flowed from Sacrifices to the deity. Many aboard that plane would now serve the abyss—a parting gift from Seki.

Assessing her drained reserves, she stifled the urge to hunt fresh Sacrifices. Recovery would take time.

Disguise was essential. How *had* that woman tracked her?

Illusions led her to a boutique. A wave over her eyes shifted their hue from violet to plain brown. Chestnut curls replaced her original locks. Donning a sun hat, she mirrored any tourist girl.

She left cash tucked by the register—stealing bored her when wealth came easily.

On the streets, her fair complexion and youth drew stares.

This backwater Ethiopian city rarely saw foreign visitors. Until recently.

For weeks, strangers—mostly outsiders—had flooded its lanes.

“Intriguing,” Seki murmured.

To uncover recent events, Seki knew consulting certain informants was the swiftest approach.

She entered a roadside establishment and obtained the desired information in exchange for a ten-dollar note.

Choosing a higher vantage point, Seki settled on a rooftop, casually tossing an unopened mineral water bottle while surveying her surroundings.

"Totem deities… So these guardians explain how this region resists abyss demons. I wondered how such areas could withstand their corruption."

Having previously operated in India and Zhongxia, Seki had only encountered fragmented reports about African totem deities – brief mentions in international news that seemed as ephemeral as fabricated stories. Now visiting Africa for the first time, she recalled the Abyss’s dual nature: lower-tier abyssal creatures could infect humans through their corrupting aura, transforming victims into abyssal thralls.

The more dangerous abyss demons operated through deception, tempting humans into signing contracts that appeared mutually beneficial but ultimately enslaved souls. While these higher demons could consume spirits, true digestion only occurred after returning to the Abyss – except for souls willingly surrendered, which provided immediate sustenance.

Within the abyssal hierarchy, all upper-tier entities fell under the demon classification due to their innate capacity for deception. Lesser abyssal creatures universally served as expendable footsoldiers.

Seki’s abyssal heritage granted her inherited memories, though this ancestral knowledge unfolded gradually to prevent mental overload. Sorting through these memories, she discovered her inherited memories contained records of such divine entities.

Totem deities, emerging from collective worship, represented proto-versions of belief deities. While belief deities drew power from sophisticated civilizations, their totem counterparts required massive followings to achieve comparable status – needing to refine power of belief into divine energy, undergo metamorphosis, crystallize divine rank, and ignite sacred flames.

To Seki’s knowledge, Blue Star hosted only one true belief deity – though Western Heaven’s ruler technically qualified as a deity of rules. Unlike resilient belief deities who could survive temporary faith losses, totem deities proved more vulnerable. Eliminating their primitive tribes could critically weaken them.

"A deity capable of creating totem warriors through divine infusion?" Seki’s lips curved. "Such entities would make superior offerings compared to mere humans."

Her patron abyssal deity craved power – the more consumed from Blue Star, the faster the Abyss could approach this world. This dimensional convergence would facilitate the realm world’s full manifestation.

The eighteen-layered Abyss, each tier built upon conquered Tier Fourteen worlds, drifted through the void consuming lesser realms. While Seki’s plan seemed sound in theory, execution posed challenges. Her current strength couldn’t directly Sacrifice even a minor totem deity, hence her need for subtler methods.

Recent totem deity sightings had drawn opportunists to the region. Among them, Seki anticipated finding useful pawns. Activating her phone, she donned headphones playing ambient music before levitating into the night.

The rumored totem deity’s jungle sanctuary lay fifty kilometers beyond the city, accessible only via a single highway. This geographical bottleneck would simplify identifying suitable candidates from the inevitable stream of pilgrims.

This time, Seki had grown wiser—she hadn’t used her true form at all. The illusions she cast would escape the notice of ordinary people, while even extraordinary individuals with inferior cultivation couldn’t detect anything amiss.

Only those surpassing her in cultivation, or perhaps a handful of exceptionally perceptive peers, might pierce through her deception.

Seki lingered along the outbound road for days, observing numerous travelers departing with weaponry. Many bore the unmistakable bearing of military personnel.

Probably investigators from Western nations, Seki mused, popping another piece of gum into her mouth.

As she stood roadside, a bird descended from the distant sky, alighting on her outstretched palm with cheerful chirps.

Seki listened intently before nodding once. "Understood."

The creature took flight again, wings unfurling as if carrying urgent orders.

"Let this prove more entertaining," she murmured, eyeing the deserted highway. The avian messenger had foretold approaching visitors. "No more feeble opponents like before…"

Abyssal creatures couldn’t conceal their infernal essence, shining through darkness like beacons. But Seki differed—as a Priest of the Abyss, she possessed singular talents.

When restraining her abyssal power and maintaining the "Disguise" ability, she appeared utterly ordinary—perhaps marginally stronger than common folk at most.

(Her physique, honed by abyssal energies, far exceeded mortal limits.)

Several off-road vehicles emerged from the horizon, churning up clouds of dust along the asphalt ribbon. Seki adjusted her backpack and waved vigorously at the convoy.

In the lead vehicle’s passenger seat, Qiao Feiyu stared impassively ahead.

"Someone’s signaling us up ahead," the young driver remarked. "Should we stop?"

"Who’s waving?" Yang Xingyu craned from the backseat, keeping windows sealed against the dust storm outside.

Qiao Feiyu’s eyelid twitched. Though not the mission’s person in charge, security protocols placed him in the front vehicle. "Consult the others," he instructed neutrally.

As the driver activated the communicator, Yang Xingyu mused, "Probably hitchhiking. Common practice abroad, isn’t it?"

After brief radio exchanges, the driver announced through the public channel: "All units, reduce speed. Preparing for temporary halt."

Their convoy’s wilderness-explorer camouflage—vehicles and attire alike—blended perfectly with their jungle-bound cover story.

When vehicles finally halted, Qiao Feiyu lowered his window to reveal a backpack-laden girl. Her brown hair clung to sweat-dampened temples, hazel eyes blinking earnestly above sun-kissed cheeks.

A torrent of fluent English poured forth as she spotted the opened window.

"Lost me completely," Yang Xingyu confessed, his English vocabulary barely stretching beyond greetings. "Old Qiao? You catching any of this?"

Without glancing at his companion, Qiao Feiyu addressed the driver: "She requests transport to the downstream jungle. Asks if we can accommodate her."

The twenty-kilometer stretch to their destination made the hitchhiking plea peculiar—extraordinary individuals rarely needed such assistance. The flimsy pretext wasn’t even worth challenging.

"Verification needed," the driver stated impassibly.

Overhearing their exchange, the girl launched into another English appeal directed at Qiao Feiyu. This time, his eyebrow arched slightly.

"What now?" Yang Xingyu pressed.

"Claims to be an extraordinary individual. Offers assistance for our jungle expedition, if we’ll tolerate her company."

The absurdity deepened—why would a genuine practitioner require vehicular transport? The transparent ruse bordered on insulting.