Chapter 317

Chapter 317: The Ninth Battle

The headless monk had arrived.

The faces of all six on the ship changed dramatically. None of them knew what to expect next.

But one thing was certain: the monk was no longer searching for his head, and the glowing Saintly Skull had vanished from the bow of the ship.

Still, an overwhelming pressure filled the air.

Yaoruoxian’s gaze drifted toward Zhang Yang. Her Soul-Calling Holy Voice, born from the Soul Binding Flower, had seemed to have little effect, yet Zhang Yang had drawn the monk forward with a single shout.

She couldn’t help but feel confused.

But she quickly steadied herself. Like Zhang Yang, she remained calm and composed as she stared at the headless monk.

Then, she activated her Saints’ Laws.

All creation is illusion, a dream, ultimately futile.

That was her understanding.

After the Eternal Night, she had created her own Saints’ Laws, becoming the first to do so as a non-saint during her cultivation at the fourth level of the Touching Heaven Realm. Now, her insight had grown even deeper.

Her Saints’ Laws were formed with the monk in mind.

It felt as though the monk had been deliberately cast into this world by the Eternal Night, an outsider, a fragment that did not belong.

When she touched the monk’s presence, she instinctively shaped her Saints’ Laws in response and the heavens themselves responded.

The entire process was astonishing.

It even made her wonder: were there truly two heavens, one repressive under the Eternal Night, and another compensatory, trying to restore balance?

One that strangled the monk.

One that nurtured the monk.

Whether it was truly so, she could not say for certain. Yet from early on, she had felt that her mastery over the Saints’ laws was not solely the result of her unmatched insight.

So, the arrival of the headless monk stirred something deep within her. Without hesitation, she released her Saints’ laws, expressing their full intricacy and depth.

In an instant, holy light surged and coiled, enveloping the entire ship.

Yaoruoxian appeared like a celestial being descended into the mortal realm.

Her Holy Body, shaped through countless past and present lives, was not simply the result of inheriting the legacy of the Star Flame Saint. It was deeply entwined with her obsession with becoming an immortal. This gave her holy light an ethereal, almost otherworldly beauty—rendering it increasingly translucent and natural, as if she were returning to her original essence.

The scene left everyone aboard the ship astounded. None could conceal their amazement. Even Liu Yuewu, proud of her own beauty and figure, found herself captivated by Yaoruoxian.

In that moment, Yaoruoxian was purity incarnate—beyond comprehension.

The usual coldness, the indifference she held toward all living beings—everything vanished.

Only an impossibly enchanting woman remained.

The headless monk’s footsteps halted once more. This was the second time—both due to Yaoruoxian.

Even the Ghost Ship of the Buried Immortals seemed to suddenly freeze, as though it had been suppressed by an invisible force.

The expressions on everyone’s faces subtly shifted.

What was happening?

Time itself seemed to pause.

No one dared move recklessly. All stood still, watching in silence.

Then, a low rumble echoed from within the headless monk, and a terrifying power began to spread from him—as though a true Buddhist immortality was about to emerge.

Golden Buddhist light erupted from the void above his neck, intertwining and forming a hazy, indistinct head.

Its mouth opened, and from it came a thunderous Voice of the Buddha.

In that instant, the River of Death surged wildly once again. A massive wave rose into the sky, spanning more than ten thousand meters across.

Amidst that towering wave, a terrifying figure appeared.

“Supreme Emperor!”

This time, everyone recognized him.

It was the same fearsome figure that had triggered the great upheaval on Ghost Island during the Great Terror in the Cabin, the same one whose presence had stirred violent waves on the River of Death.

But this time, the Supreme Emperor’s form was vague and indistinctly blurred.

Yet more alarming was that the headless monk had grown immensely powerful. Brilliant Buddhist light radiated from him, and the infinite essence of the immortal path surged upward, suppressing the monstrous wave and the terrifying figure—preventing them from crashing down upon the ship.

The Voice of the Buddha rang out again:

“All actions of creation are like dreams and illusions—

Like dew, like lightning;

One should view them as such.”

With this single utterance, the holy brilliance around Yaoruoxian surged violently. She seemed to rise to a new state of enlightenment, her purity intensified, her presence exuding a sense of complete detachment—as though she had transcended the mundane world.

Her Saints’ laws began to transform.

Even Zhang Yang stood motionless, as if struck by lightning. His thoughts scattered, his mind dazed as though those words had touched something deep within him. A flicker of profound comprehension began to rise.

At the same time, the golden head of the monk woven from pure Buddhist light glanced at Zhang Yang with an inquisitive gaze. Then, without warning, it waved a hand.

Bang!

The Ghost Ship of the Buried Immortals soared into the sky like an arrow released from a divine bow, tearing through the void and vanishing in an instant.

Simultaneously, a thunderous boom echoed behind them.

The vast wave that had once threatened to blot out the sky came crashing down.

The headless monk vanished.

The shadow of the Supreme Emperor faded.

Only the sounds of battle echoed through the mighty river stirring great waves, yet none could reach the Ghost Ship of the Buried Immortals anymore.

Those aboard the ship felt their hearts pounding.

Zhang Yang and Yaoruoxian both fell into deep contemplation.

The other four, though anxious and tense, were also filled with excitement. Their eyes remained locked on the place where the waves had once risen—watching the massive swells crash helplessly against the void, unable to reach them. Watching as the Ghost Ship of the Buried Immortals drifted steadily through the emptiness.

Once they were certain of their safety, Jin Zhihong suddenly turned toward Zhang Yang, his eyes burning with intense murderous intent.

This was the perfect moment.

The vague appearance of the Supreme Emperor had stirred something deep in his awakened ancestral bloodline. He felt as though he stood on the brink of a major breakthrough. But then—a commanding voice echoed from within his bloodline, a mission etched into his very being:

You must kill Zhang Yang.

His killing intent surfaced in his gaze, sharp and icy.

It was like a crescent moon blade—cutting, cold, and lethal.

Clang!

The moon-returning dragon stepped in, slicing through the void and blocking Jin Zhihong’s line of sight.

At the same time, Liu Yuewu shifted her focus to Nie Bahuang.

Two sides. Two pairs. Locked in tension.

Their strength had already clashed once on Ghost Island. Each had reaped considerable gains in both this life and the last. Though Jin Zhihong had come away with little at first, he had later seized Yuan Chimuyu’s eyes, granting him the Holy Eyes, a formidable power that yielded remarkable results.

The moon-returning dragon sneered, “Jin Zhihong, if you want to make a move, you’ll have to deal with me first.”

Jin Zhihong’s killing intent surged—but in the end, he did not act.

First, because he wasn’t confident he could win.

Secondly, this was the Ghost Ship of the Buried Immortals; unless absolutely necessary, he subconsciously believed he should not act recklessly. It was far too dangerous, especially since they were not sailing along the river but soaring through the sky.

So he endured, suppressing his murderous intent.

The oppressive atmosphere on the ship gradually eased.

After a moment, they realized the ship was still flying high above the ground, and unease crept in. They worried the headless monk might suddenly strike them down with a single blow.

After a while, the moon-returning dragon’s eyes lit up. He whispered, “Below us is Despair Reef—we’ve actually flown right over it at this height.”

Soon after, Jin Zhihong also noticed something unusual.

“That’s the Heavenly Waterfall,” he said. “We’ve passed that too.”

Time passed, and then Jin Zhihong suddenly shouted, “The Haunting Bridge!”

The moon-returning dragon exclaimed excitedly, “According to the records, the Haunting Bridge is the last great danger the Ghost Ship of the Buried Immortals must pass. It’s also the most perilous. If we can cross it directly, we’ll be safe. After that, we should be able to leave!”

Jin Zhihong rejoiced, “The exit is near!”

They looked out into the distance.

Above the vast River of Death, a massive doorway had appeared. It was the exit above the Abyss of the Buried Immortals.

Although the river still surged below, flowing into the unknown on either side, the exit ahead was real. They could vaguely make out the Abyss of the Buried Immortals outside, and even faint glimpses of familiar sunlight.

They were returning.

At that moment, the holy light surrounding Yaoruoxian gradually faded as she emerged from her state of enlightenment.

Zhang Yang also opened his eyes, sensing something. He turned and glanced at Jin Zhihong.

That single glance sent a chill down Jin Zhihong’s spine.

Yaoruoxian’s gemstone-like eyes locked onto Zhang Yang, unwavering and deep, as though peering into his very soul.

She spoke clearly, “Zhang Yang, the ninth battle enters the Abyss of the Buried Immortals again!”

Jin Zhihong, the moon-returning dragon, Liu Yuewu, Nie Bahuang, and the other top experts were stunned.

This move was a fatal strike, utterly ruthless.