Volume One: Youthful Encounters in Humble Times Chapter 131: The Daoist's Final Performance in the Mortal World

The Netherworld Beast anxiously tried to force the bone spike lodged inside its body out but ultimately had to give up. Watching the Blade Saint engage in combat with the three old witches before it, its impatience grew. It knew clearly that this was its sole chance; judging by the disparity in strength, the Blade Saint likely wouldn’t hold out much longer.

Suddenly, it recalled its birthplace, which also concealed another great secret of the Netherworld Sea. If it could return there, perhaps it could still force the bone spike from its body. With this thought, it ceased to hesitate. Taking advantage of the distraction between the two sides, it swiftly slipped away.

The Blade Saint paid no mind, but the three old witches were not so indifferent. After the Netherworld Beast vanished, they sensed the bone spike had disappeared from its original place. Yet, they remained untroubled; as long as the bone spike remained within the beast, no matter where it fled, they would eventually find it.

Still, they harbored some concern. The longer time dragged on, the more likely the beast might truly discover a way to expel the bone spike, increasing the variables at play. When the first fragment of soul was extinguished by the Taoist, they had sensed it and knew that if faced with the same technique again, they would be powerless to counter it for a time.

Therefore, exchanging glances and communicating mentally, they quickly made their decision. After the Blade Saint absorbed their new assault, two of the witches combined their efforts and rapidly summoned their Death Realm.

The Death Realm is a fixed domain that cannot be drawn into the Living Realm. However, the ancient masters who once ruled the Death Realm created a divine technique: by using themselves as a conduit, they connect the Death Realm to themselves and, by sacrificing their cultivation and vitality, temporarily overlay a Death Domain atop the Living Realm.

Once summoned, the Blade Saint was dragged into this Death Domain, where his power from the Living Realm was severely diminished. Moreover, if he did not exert his full strength to protect himself, the deathly aura of the domain would gradually invade, turning him into a part of the Death Domain itself.

After fending off their combined ghost clan divine technique, the Blade Saint was caught unprepared and pulled into the Death Domain. Upon entering, he immediately sensed its extraordinary nature.

In his vision, the three old witches had vanished, replaced by desolate graves scattered about. Around these graves flowed a vast yellow river, utterly silent, suffused with a suffocating stillness of death.

Over the years, he had only encountered a few low-level ghost clan beings—weaklings with little cultivation and negligible attack power. Encountering three such formidable ghost clan elders, each at the thirteenth realm, was truly a first.

Their divine techniques were beyond comprehension, terrifying to hear of and witness. The eerie Death Domain before him left him uncertain how to resist.

He had never read or heard of the Death Domain from any book or source. He had no choice but to rely on his Dao of the Blade to probe and seek a way to break free.

Yet, when he unleashed his strongest slash, he found the blade failed to pierce the domain’s spatial barrier—something unprecedented for him.

The Blade Saint’s blade had reached the realm of return to simplicity, the highest level attainable. If he willed it, no space could withstand his slash. If it could not be cut, this place was neither the mortal world nor a mere barrier, but a space beyond both mortal and Living Realm jurisdiction.

Given their identities, it was natural for him to conclude this place must be the Death Domain—or at least territory governed by it.

Just as the Blade Saint sought alternative means, he suddenly realized his internal Dao was beginning to stagnate and wither. His vitality was quietly draining away. Had he not just used his Dao of the Blade to sever the Death Domain and absorb some of its deathly aura, he might not have noticed the changes in his body until it was too late.

This revelation shocked him even more than the knowledge that he dwelled within the Death Realm’s jurisdiction. He was no ordinary cultivator; he had reached the fourteenth realm, the pinnacle of mortal power.

Furthermore, he had recently elevated his Dao of the Blade to its earthly limit, at its most potent and flourishing. Yet, even under these conditions, the Death Realm’s aura was eroding him, even corroding his Dao of the Blade. Such power of the Death Realm was truly formidable.

Could it be that if many such Death Domains existed, the mortal world’s beings would have no means of resistance?

He hurriedly shielded himself. Only after sensing that his spiritual energy could form a protective barrier did he feel somewhat at ease. Then he focused intently on observing the Death Domain, hoping to find any chance of escape.

In truth, the two witches who conjured the Death Domain were not comfortable either. They were merely fragmented souls without the ghost clan’s true essence. The Death Domain depended solely on the power of their fragmented souls and cultivation. Once the domain formed, they themselves would become part of it until it vanished. Only then could they break free. If forcibly destroyed, they would simply dissipate into nothingness.

Moreover, with their strength, establishing a permanent Death Domain was impossible. At best, they could restrain the opponent for one hour. If after that hour the opponent was not infected by the deathly aura, the domain would automatically dissolve, and their power would plummet. What awaited them then was merciless slaughter.

This was a battle of endurance and cultivation, a tug-of-war to see who would falter first.

Meanwhile, the last old witch, after trapping the Blade Saint, hastened to sense the bone spike’s location and hurried toward the direction it emanated from.

The Netherworld Beast, to buy time, had led them astray and painfully divided its vital essence into three parts. Then, using the unique connection between itself and the Netherworld Sea, it spread these three fragments to separate locations.

It itself sped toward the southwestern part of the Netherworld Sea, racing toward the place that might solve its predicament.

Upon returning to its birthplace, a sense of relief finally began to wash over it.

This was where it had been born. Unknown to others, within the Netherworld Sea, there existed not only the Netherworld Dao but another mysterious Dao—the Dao of Return to Ruin.

When the Netherworld Beast gained sentience and awakened its innate abilities, it spontaneously received information about the Dao of Return to Ruin.

Yet even it knew little beyond a single phrase drifting within its soul: “Return to Ruin is the end of all things.”

But the Netherworld Beast itself was born from Return to Ruin, making it, to itself, a beginning of life.

Thus, the power of Return to Ruin might be the source of life for a creature bearing the Netherworld Dao.

It had long since discovered that the Heavenly Gate Town once held Dao essence, but all such essence had been cast into this Return to Ruin place by ancient sages. It was then that it horrifiedly realized that its birthplace had devoured all mortal Daos without exception.

From that, it understood just how dangerous this place was—and that its own birth there was not without risk.

Since then, it had kept far away. Only after growing stronger did it escape to other regions of the Netherworld Sea to wreak havoc.

But this time, beaten down by the bone spike with no strength left to fight back, it could only pin its hopes on the Return to Ruin.

Since it had been born here, perhaps the Dao of Return to Ruin here would harm it not at all and might even consume the bone spike lodged within it, allowing it to be freed.

Thinking so, it gazed at the pitch-black whirlpool and murmured anxiously, “Please, you may as well be my parents; protect me and help swallow the bone spike inside me.”

Having spoken, it transformed into a dark, indistinct mist and sank into the whirlpool. No one heard it, but as it descended, it released a deafening, agonized wail.

At that moment, its hatred for the ghost clan reached its peak. In its heart, it vowed cruelly, “Ghost clan, I remember you. One day, I will devour you all utterly.”

After many twists and turns, the last old witch finally located the true hiding place of the Netherworld Beast. Previously led astray by the beast, her anxiety deepened. She understood that since the beast was willing to mix its vital essence with the bone spike’s aura to create a ruse, it must have found a way to force the spike out. She could no longer delay; further hesitation would be in vain.

Finally certain of the beast’s location, she arrived at the Return to Ruin place with great excitement but was immediately silenced by the overwhelming aura of finality permeating it.

Especially when she looked at the whirlpool, her fear surged to its highest point. She knew what Return to Ruin was but had always thought it a myth. She never imagined it truly existed.

Few things could restrain the ghost clan. Besides the Taoist’s golden talisman, Return to Ruin was one such force.

If Return to Ruin could bring all things to an end, what could it not end?

Beings of the ghost clan were born undead, governed by survival rules unlike those of the Living Realm, and naturally followed different Dao principles. Yet one truth was undeniable: all Daos must one day perish. Where do these Daos return upon death?

Only to Return to Ruin.