Return

Time was the deep sea's most generous gift, and also its most merciless carving knife.

When Jingtian's enormous body, like the darkest of dreams, silently slipped through the surveillance blind spot on the outskirts of the Western Silent Sea Abyss—a spot he had repeatedly scouted and confirmed—nearly twenty years had passed since he last fled this place in disgrace. Twenty years were enough for a human infant to grow into a strapping young man, for a coral reef forest to flourish and decline, and for many memories to gather dust and much vigilance to slacken.

Yet Jingtian's senses were sharper and colder than they had been twenty years ago, like a poison needle tempered millions of times. He easily avoided the three surveillance nodes that still faithfully operated, though they now showed a trace of mechanical rigidity. Sea God Island's arrangements were still there, but they seemed to have truly become mere "eyes" rather than beast traps. There were no hidden powerful presences, no newly placed trigger traps. It seemed that after twenty years of silence and the assumption of his "death," Sea God Island had reduced its direct surveillance of this barren region to the minimum.

That was good.

His target was the familiar yet unfamiliar fissure hidden deep within the folds of the undersea cliff.

The camouflaging poison membrane at the nest entrance had become exceedingly thin after years of neglect and energy dissipation, nearly blending into the surrounding rock. Jingtian did not disturb it. Instead, he released an exquisitely subtle force of Poison Erosion from the tip of one tentacle, like the most dexterous key, "dissolving" a temporary opening at the edge of the membrane just large enough for him to compress his body through. After entering, he swiftly repaired it to its original state.

The nest's interior was still as he had left it, only now imbued with even more of the deathly silence accumulated by time. The Water-Condensing Pearl lay alone where it had been, its glow dim, its effectiveness clearly greatly diminished after losing the long-term nourishment of his Soul Power. But Jingtian's gaze—his perception—did not linger on it. As if drawn by a magnet, it instantly locked onto the deep fissure in the sidewall.

The fissure remained, dark, profound, and silent.

However, under Jingtian's current seventy-two-thousand-year cultivation, and the qualitative transformation of his Spirit Energy perception through Guixu tempering, the aura emitted by this fissure was utterly different from twenty years ago.

Back then, he had only felt that it was ancient, heavy, dangerous, and radiated a poisonous origin that made his heart pound with both fear and desire.

Now, what he "saw" was a wound flowing with a viscous, murky purple-black radiance that pulsed slowly as though alive. The source of that radiance extended to the very bottom of the fissure, overlapping with the location of the Scorpion Tail Soul Bone in his memory. The energy fluctuations released by that Soul Bone were no longer merely "settling." They were like those of a slumbering giant beast disturbed from sleep, falling into a deeper, more unstable "false slumber." An indescribable hunger, temptation, and... cold fury faintly drifted from the depths of the fissure like a soundless tide.

Was it my last touch that provoked it? Jingtian's heart chilled. It seemed that the Soul Bone had not remained unchanged over these past twenty years. His failed attempt at erosion appeared to have triggered some unknown evolution in it, making it more dangerous, but perhaps also... more "active," reducing the protective "deathly silence" it had accumulated over endless years.

Danger meant a higher chance of death.

Activity also meant... perhaps a greater possibility of "communication" and "seizure."

He did not venture deeper immediately. Instead, he coiled outside the fissure's entrance and raised his perception to its utmost limit, like the most precise scanner, "reading" every detail, every current, every discordant point within the fissure's energy field inch by inch.

He needed to formulate a plan, one more thorough and bolder than the reckless "test—sever tentacle" plan from twenty years ago.

This time, he was no longer a "novice" who had just broken through the thousand-year mark and was filled with awe and greed toward the power of Soul Bones. He was a Deep Sea Hunter who had crawled out of Guixu's desperate realm, tempered his poison arts and will between life and death, reached a cultivation of seventy-two thousand years, and possessed a trump card like Dan-Devour. His goal was no longer to "absorb the residual surface legacy," but to seize the core and make it his own.

If I force it, I will certainly die, Jingtian judged calmly. The backlash from the Soul Bone Core had nearly taken his life twenty years ago. Now that the Soul Bone's condition had changed and become even more unfathomable, a frontal assault was the worst possible option.

I need a medium... a bridge... a key that can bear my will and resonate with the Soul Bone's origin. His thoughts raced as he considered all his abilities and resources.

The force of Poison Erosion? No. It was too aggressive and would directly trigger a backlash.

Dan-Devour? That was his ultimate killing move against enemies. Using it on an ownerless remnant bone that still contained its former owner's will would be like bombarding a safe with a cannon to retrieve its treasure. He might destroy the treasure along with it.

Spirit Energy perception? It could be used for investigation and subtle guidance, but it lacked the power to shake the core.

The Water-Condensing Pearl? Its energy nature was gentle, but its level was insufficient, and it did not suit the poison attribute.

At last, his gaze fell upon the tip of one of his tentacles. Dark purple rings slowly flowed there, mixed with a nearly invisible grayish hue born from Guixu's deathly silent energy.

Guixu Assimilation... Simulation... resonance...

An exceedingly bold, almost insane idea gradually took shape in Jingtian's consciousness.

He did not need brute force to "break" or "refine" the Soul Bone. Perhaps he could try to "become" part of it, to "simulate" the state of its former owner, to "deceive" the Soul Bone's origin into recognizing him as one of its own, even as... an "heir."

But how exactly?

Jingtian sank his mind into the deepest part of his Poison Source and recalled the feeling from twenty years ago, when the Soul Bone Core's poison invaded his body: tyrannical, ancient, filled with erosion and destruction. He began cautiously separating the purest, most corrosive portion from his own Poison Source. Then he integrated a trace of the intent of "locking onto" and "devouring" life's origin contained within Dan-Devour. Finally, he blended in Guixu Assimilation's ability to simulate "silence" and "ending."

He tried to create a special poison-force "frequency," or "mark." This mark held no aggressiveness. Its essence was a declaration—a declaration that he shared the same origin as the Soul Bone, that he understood and revered its law of "poison," and that he possessed both the qualification and desire to inherit its power.

He slowly and tentatively "sent" this carefully constructed poison-force mark, as intricate as a complex code, toward the source of the purple-black radiance deep within the fissure. It was not an invasion, nor was it contact. It was more like... knocking at a door, a distant and polite "introduction" based on poison force of the same origin.

Buzz...

The purple-black radiance deep in the fissure seemed to ripple almost imperceptibly.

It reacted! Though so faint it was nearly undetectable, this proved that his line of thinking might be correct! The Soul Bone was not entirely dead matter. It possessed an instinctive, faint resonance with energy fluctuations of the same attribute that carried a certain "reverence" and "compatibility"!

But this was not enough. That tiny resonance was far from enough to let him safely approach the core, much less obtain its inheritance.

He needed a deeper "bond," a stronger "persuasive force."

Jingtian's gaze turned to himself once more. He needed a sacrifice, proof, a token of allegiance.

He recalled the tentacle from twenty years ago, corroded entirely by the Soul Bone's poison force and ultimately reduced to pus. It had been the price of failure, but it had also been a... connection. His flesh, his poison force, and even a trace of his life imprint had once mingled directly with the Soul Bone's poison force in a struggle to the death.

I need... an offering. An offering containing my origin, yet pure enough to draw the Soul Bone's interest and perhaps even serve as a channel.

His gaze slowly swept across his eight thick, powerful tentacles. In the end, it settled upon the newest one, the one that had fused Guixu's qualities with a resilient metallic sheen.

This tentacle symbolized his recovery from the brink of death, his rebirth in Guixu's depths, his devouring of rare minerals, and his new understanding of "silence" and "resilience." It was strong enough, contained his origin, and carried a trace of Guixu's essence that vaguely matched the Soul Bone's "silent" nature.

More importantly, it was "new," not yet completely fixed by old battle patterns and poison nature, making it more malleable.

A ruthless decision formed within Jingtian.

He slowly raised the chosen tentacle and immersed all his focus into it. With tremendous willpower and microscopic control over his poison force, he began at the tip of that tentacle, slowly but unwaveringly working backward to perform "self-stripping."

It was not a simple severing. At the cellular level, energy level, and soul-imprint level, he cut and separated the tentacle's "ownership" and "life connection" from his main body. At the same time, he preserved the vitality of its inner energy and the integrity of its structure. During the stripping process, he deeply branded the special poison-force Knocking Mark he had just condensed into the tentacle's most central energy node.

This process was a hundred times more painful than severing a tentacle. It was true slow slicing and self-division. Jingtian's enormous body trembled slightly, the dark purple rings on it flashing violently, but his gaze—his will—was cold as iron, without the slightest wavering.

When the final connection of life and soul was severed, the thick tentacle, dozens of meters long and gleaming with dark gold and ash-gray light, completely became an independent "living sacrifice." Yet it still contained Jingtian's vast life essence, poison-force origin, and that special "Knocking Mark."

Jingtian's aura weakened somewhat as a result, but his gaze became sharper.

He controlled this stripped tentacle as though wielding a living tool, slowly and with ceremonial solemnity sending it into the fissure's entrance.

The tentacle wound downward through the narrow passage, approaching the core source of that purple-black radiance.

This time, the fissure did not erupt in attack immediately. The purple-black radiance seemed conscious as it curiously and scrutinizingly "watched" this strange creation, which exuded both familiar—same-origin deadly poison and Guixu silence—and unfamiliar—Jingtian's origin and Dan-Devour intent—auras.

The tentacle finally stopped around ten meters from the Soul Bone Core—the edge of the maximum distance at which Jingtian's main body had been attacked last time. Then, under Jingtian's remote control, the tentacle began actively releasing gentle poison-force fluctuations full of the meaning of "offering" and "resonance." Its form slowly changed as well, its tip gradually becoming sharp and curved, faintly imitating the shape of a scorpion's tail!

It was trying to "play a role," playing the part of a humble descendant of the same kind yearning for the favor and blessing of an ancient existence.

The purple-black radiance deep in the fissure fluctuated more noticeably. A distinct emotion of scrutiny, curiosity, and even a trace of... faint "recognition" was conveyed through the energy fluctuations.

The Soul Bone seemed to have "recognized" the poisonous essence within the tentacle that shared its origin, along with the sense of familiarity brought by Guixu's deathly silence. More importantly, this tentacle was "ownerless"—separated from Jingtian's main body—yet carried an intense yearning to "belong"—the Knocking Mark. It was like a carefully prepared sacrifice offered to an ancient poison god.

The purple-black radiance began splitting into fine strands, like probing feelers, slowly and carefully winding around the tentacle that imitated a scorpion tail.

The instant the strands of light made contact, Jingtian's main body drove all his Spirit Energy and the Knocking Mark to their utmost limit!

"Channel—open!"

The prearranged energy structure inside the stripped tentacle activated in an instant! It was no longer merely a dead object, but transformed into a temporary, one-way bridge for the transmission of energy and information! Through that bridge, Jingtian's Spirit Energy consciousness—tempered by Guixu and now stronger and more condensed—mixed with his deeper understanding of the Law of Poison Erosion and a trace of Dan-Devour's supreme deterrent intent. Avoiding the Soul Bone Core's outermost defensive and counterattack mechanisms, it directly sent a gentle yet firm "request for connection" toward the purest poison-force inheritance and rule information deep within its origin!

This was not a violent seizure. It was a request for access! A display of qualifications, a request to download!

"Boom—!!!"

Deep within the fissure, the purple-black light suddenly blazed! The entire nest shook! An ancient poison force, vaster and purer than twenty years ago yet seemingly less violent and more filled with "scrutiny" and "consideration," surged toward Jingtian's main body along the temporary bridge formed by that tentacle like floodwaters released from a dam!

This time, it was no longer a hostile backlash of erosion.

It was a boundless, genuine core inheritance of the Scorpion Tail External Soul Bone—ultimate insight into the nature of poison, methods for wielding that bizarre scorpion-tail form, fragmented information about the rules of erosion and destruction, and the remaining lifelong pursuit and proud will of the Soul Bone's former owner toward the path of "poison"!

"Aah—!"

Jingtian let out a soundless roar blending extreme agony and wild ecstasy. His body was once again stained purple-black, but this time it was absorption, fusion, transformation! His Poison Source expanded and underwent qualitative change at an unprecedented rate, its color rapidly shifting from dark purple toward a purer, deeper, void-like black! The rings across his body began to twist and deform, while a phantom, flickering scorpion tail silhouette faintly condensed at the base of his back! Under the influx of that vast inheritance, his cultivation began fiercely charging toward the eighty-thousand-year threshold!

He had succeeded! He had won the gamble! Using a tentacle containing his own essence as sacrifice and bridge, he had deceived the Soul Bone's defensive mechanism, successfully connected to it, and begun receiving its core inheritance!

However, at the peak of intertwined ecstasy and pain—

"Whoosh—!"

An incomparably fine yet peerlessly sharp deep-blue line of water, as though capable of cutting through souls and space itself, shot in without warning from the nest entrance behind Jingtian, from the spot where the poison membrane he had just repaired was located! Its target pointed directly at the core of the back of Jingtian's head, where he was frantically absorbing the inheritance without the slightest defense!

The timing was vicious to the extreme!

It struck precisely at the instant when Jingtian's mind was wholly immersed in the influx of inheritance, his body was at the most critical point of transformation, and his perception was severely disrupted by the Soul Bone's vast energy!

"Splurt!"

Although Jingtian's battle instinct, honed through countless life-and-death struggles, forced him to twist his body at the final moment, that deep-blue water line still viciously pierced one of his secondary tentacles. Its remaining force did not diminish, carving a savage, bone-deep wound across his incomparably tough body, imbued with terrifying cutting and purification power!

Blue-black poisonous blood, mixed with the power of the Soul Bone inheritance, sprayed wildly!

Jingtian abruptly turned his head—his perception locking on—to see a figure at the nest entrance, shrouded in pale-blue waterlight and holding a crystalline trident. He had slipped in soundlessly like a ghost at some unknown moment, his face cold as ice as his emotionless azure eyes stared coldly at Jingtian and the violently fluctuating purple-black radiance in the fissure behind him.

A Title Douluo from Sea God Island!

Moreover, judging from the power of his attack, his grasp of timing, and his aura—of the same origin as Luo Kes's but more condensed and profound... this man was even stronger than Sea Spear Douluo Luo Kes had been!

He had not happened to pass by, nor had he tracked Jingtian here. It was as though he had been lurking nearby all along, quietly waiting until Jingtian formed the deepest connection with the Soul Bone, the moment when he was least able to divide his attention, before delivering this fatal blow!

"Wretched beast, you truly did not die, and you are still here stealing this evil object," the Title Douluo said calmly, though his voice carried chilling killing intent. "Today, I will eliminate both you and this source of disaster!"

The Deep Sea Hunter had finally become... someone else's prey.

And the climax of this hunt descended suddenly, at the very instant he was about to swallow the sweetest fruit.