Return

Breaking through to the thousand-year level brought more than a surge in strength. The leap to a higher plane of life had awakened an almost instinctive awareness of—and longing for—a wider world.

Jingtian lay coiled beside the Single-Horned Gilded Beast's enormous corpse, feeling vast thousand-year Soul Power surge endlessly through him. The deep-blue rings on his body were no longer mere markings. They seemed to merge with the deep sea itself, drawing in the sparse energy around him. His awareness reached a thousand meters in every direction, as clear as sight. Every current, every speck of dust, even the faintest tremor of Soul Power from the terrified Soul Beasts fleeing in the distance—he sensed it all.

He had nearly "eaten" his way through these northern waters. He had slaughtered almost every mid- and high-level Soul Beast, leaving the ecosystem in ruins and its energy field thin and chaotic. Even the rare mineral veins and Spirit Power Springs had dimmed from overharvesting and destruction. If he stayed, his cultivation would barely advance. It might even regress as resources ran dry.

He had to migrate.

But where? The Eastern Sea Trench filled him with dread. The southern waters were tangled in competing powers. To the west... there seemed to be an even more barren region of turbulent currents.

Coordinates he had not thought of in a long time surfaced in his mind: the Western Silent Sea Abyss, the Black Stone Forest, the Silver-Veined Thunder Eel.

That Thousand-Year Soul Beast had once driven him to despair. The mere aftermath of one lightning strike had nearly wiped out his shrimp scouting party. Its overwhelming strength had forced him to abandon his plan to set one predator against another and choose the safer path of building his strength.

Back then, he had been an insect with less than a hundred years of cultivation, while it had ruled as a thousand-year overlord. They had been worlds apart.

Now he, too, was a Thousand-Year Soul Beast, armed with an unpredictable, deadly blend of poisons. More than that, he was a predator forged through countless kills.

It's time... to go back and take a look. A cold ripple passed through Jingtian's thoughts. This was not just about settling an old "grudge." It would test his strength. The waters there were barren, but the Silver-Veined Thunder Eel itself would make excellent prey and a rich source of energy. If he devoured it, his cultivation would surely rise again.

And perhaps... he could also take another look at that ancient fissure. With a thousand years of cultivation, he ought to withstand the aura deeper within it, shouldn't he?

His decision made, Jingtian wasted no time. He devoured every last bit of essence remaining in the Single-Horned Gilded Beast and secured the Water-Condensing Pearl to his body. After one final look at the northern waters he had personally driven into desolation, he turned and sped toward the Western Silent Sea Abyss.

His thousand-year cultivation gave him speed far beyond anything he had known before. His deep-blue form left a blurred trail through the sea. Whatever Soul Beasts he passed fled in panic, none daring to block his way.

Several days later, a familiar desolation entered his awareness. The Western Silent Sea Abyss—the "home" where he had once risen before leaving—seemed even more lifeless than before. The few weak Soul Beasts he used to see were now almost gone. Only the lowest forms of plankton and algae clung to life. Even the currents felt sluggish and drained of vitality.

Jingtian felt nothing. He headed straight for the Black Stone Forest, drawing in his aura as he approached. He suppressed his Soul Power fluctuations to the barest trace and shifted the rings on his body to the dark blue of the surrounding reefs. A Thousand-Year Soul Beast could conceal himself far better than he once had.

Before long, the jagged spires of the Black Stone Forest entered his awareness. But the outer forest was more damaged than he remembered. Many reefs bore fractures and blackened scars, as though a fierce battle had taken place.

Jingtian grew wary. He eased his awareness into the depths of the stone forest like the finest strands of spider silk, searching for that familiar, violent lightning aura.

There was nothing.

The arrogant, domineering thousand-year Soul Power that had once filled the depths of the stone forest with the Silver-Veined Thunder Eel's destructive presence had vanished. In its place lingered a chaotic field carrying several unfamiliar Soul Power signatures and... the smell of blood.

Jingtian slipped into the stone forest. Avoiding the fine debris drifting in the water, he moved toward the Thunder Eel's lair.

What his senses found made him pause.

The entrance to the cave, once worn smooth by the Thunder Eel's massive body, had mostly collapsed. Huge rocks lay shattered in heaps. Broad black scorch marks covered the seabed nearby, remnants of the Silver-Veined Thunder Eel's lightning attacks. But there was more than lightning damage—

Crisscrossing cuts ran several feet deep into the rock. Their edges were smooth and still carried traces of incomparably sharp Soul Power.

Blast craters pitted the ground, their walls melted into irregular shapes.

Patches of frozen ice crystals had yet to melt, even here in the deep sea. Cold radiated from them.

And scattered everywhere were chunks of dark-blue flesh and broken scales. Though dulled, they were unmistakably the Silver-Veined Thunder Eel's, charred and scored by cuts.

The scale of the battle was far beyond anything Soul Beasts fighting each other could have caused. The lingering Soul Power signatures also pointed to several distinct forces: sharp cutting power, explosions from fire or some other energy, and freezing cold.

Jingtian's heart sank. He swam closer to the remains and examined them with his senses. There was no mistake. The aura belonged to the Silver-Veined Thunder Eel. It had grown faint, but the traces of its distinctive lightning-aspected Soul Power were still clear. Judging by how fresh the remains were, the battle had happened no more than three days ago.

What could have killed a Thousand-Year Soul Beast with such ferocious lightning attacks here, and so quickly? The scene did not suggest a prolonged fight. It looked more like... an ambush, or a crushing defeat.

Soul Beasts? Unlikely. He had never sensed another Thousand-Year Soul Beast near the Western Silent Sea Abyss, let alone several with such different powers working together.

That seemed to leave only one answer...

As if to confirm his suspicion, faint voices reached the edge of Jingtian's awareness while he studied the battlefield. They came from the far side of the stone forest. Along with them came Soul Power fluctuations unmistakably human—and utterly unlike those of Soul Beasts.

Jingtian drew his aura in until he might as well have been a lifeless reef. He clung to the back of a huge fallen rock while his awareness reached cautiously toward the voices, keen as the most sensitive radar.

Through the gaps in the stone forest and the murky water, he "saw" them.

Three humans.

They hovered in the water, each wrapped in a differently colored glow of protective Soul Power. Bright Soul Rings shone around two of them. Though the water distorted and dimmed their light, Jingtian could sense their distinctive energy rhythms: one was a Five-Ring Soul King, the other a Six-Ring Soul Emperor. The third concealed his aura best and showed no Soul Rings, yet his Soul Power was the densest and deepest of the three. Jingtian sensed the greatest danger from him. He was likely a Seven-Ring Soul Sage, or perhaps even stronger.

They wore matching close-fitting leather armor that appeared to keep out water. An emblem of an anchor entwined with lightning marked each suit. They had gathered around a relatively flat reef, where several objects lay: a broken silver-white horn that still spat tiny arcs of electricity, plainly the Silver-Veined Thunder Eel's; several large, tough dark-blue scales bearing scorch marks; and a fist-sized Soul Bone with lightning faintly swirling inside.

"Tch. Who would've thought a Silver-Veined Thunder Eel nearing two thousand years old was hiding in these remote waters? It gave us quite a bit of trouble." The Six-Ring Soul Emperor withdrew his Soul Rings and flicked a long, serrated blade glowing with watery blue light. Dark-blue blood still stained its edge. Soul Power carried his voice clearly through the water, tinged with fatigue and satisfaction.

"It's only a left-arm Soul Bone, but lightning attributes are rare, and the quality is excellent. It'll fetch plenty of contribution points when we get back." The Five-Ring Soul King was a woman holding a staff set with an icy-blue gem. The water around her was noticeably colder; clearly, she had created the ice crystals. She looked at the purple Soul Bone, eagerness flashing in her eyes.

"Hmph. If the beast hadn't stirred up a Deep Sea Thunderstorm at the end to drag us down with it, we wouldn't be in such a sorry state. It even drained a good deal of energy from our Water-Avoiding Pearl." The leader, the Soul Master with the strongest aura, spoke evenly as he surveyed the area. "Clean up. Don't leave any obvious traces. These waters may be barren, but I've heard senior sect members occasionally come to inspect them. Don't give anyone grounds to criticize us."

"Yes, sir," the other two answered respectfully. They quickly began clearing the site, collecting the scattered Thunder Eel remains of little value in special containers and using Soul Skills to smooth away the most obvious signs of battle.

Hidden in the shadows, Jingtian watched it all with cold eyes.

Human Soul Masters... a Soul Hunting team... at least a Soul Emperor and a Soul Saint... and they had killed the thousand-year Silver-Veined Thunder Eel with ease...

Each realization struck his mind like an icicle.

The Western Silent Sea Abyss had not stood still while he was away. Human Soul Masters had already reached this remote stretch of deep sea. Judging by their armor and emblems, they belonged to an organized force.

The Silver-Veined Thunder Eel, the Thousand-Year Soul Beast that had once driven him to despair, was merely prey that had given these humans "quite a bit of trouble." Its remains were materials to exchange for contribution points.

An indescribable chill spread through him, along with a deeper sense of urgency.

He had thought that reaching the thousand-year level would at least let him hold his own in this corner of the deep sea. Reality had dealt him a heavy blow. To truly powerful humans, a Thousand-Year Soul Beast was still just prey. A resource.

Stronger. I have to grow stronger, faster!

He needed more than cultivation. He needed more ways to fight, and a deeper understanding of this world.

The three Soul Masters soon finished cleaning up. Taking the Thunder Eel's horn, scales, and, most importantly, its Soul Bone, they rose toward the surface and disappeared into the dim water.

Only when their Soul Power fluctuations had faded completely did Jingtian slowly emerge from hiding.

He approached the collapsed cave and looked over the devastated battlefield, at the scraps of the Silver-Veined Thunder Eel left carelessly behind.

A foe he had once looked up to—one he could barely have faced even through careful scheming—was now nothing more than an entry in someone else's record of achievements. Not even its corpse had been left whole.

The deep sea was silent. Currents slowly washed over the signs of battle, as though they would bury all its bloodshed and cruelty.

Jingtian hovered there in silence for a moment. Then he turned and swam without hesitation toward his old lair.

An ancient fissure lay there. It might hold a faster path to strength, or it might hold unknown dangers.

But he had no other choice now.

The humans' arrival hung over him like a blade. It told him that this seemingly unclaimed stretch of deep sea had never truly been safe.

He needed power—the power to protect himself against human Soul Masters, perhaps even... to strike back.

His deep-blue thousand-year form cut through the lifeless abyss, racing toward the fissure he remembered.