Echo

Inside the enormous stone cavern in the Seafloor Hydrothermal Fissure Cluster, the smell of sulfur mingled with the faint glow of the poisonous miasma, creating an oppressive atmosphere cut off from the world. Jingtian crouched in the shadows in one corner, his Ninth Tentacle resting on the cold ground like the quietest of sentries. Its tip flickered faintly in a steady rhythm, receiving the Deep Sea Echo Mo Yuan sent out—a signal no mortal could hear.

Mo Yuan's enormous body floated in the center of the cavern. Under the stilling energy Jingtian continuously released and his own vitality, his wounds had temporarily stopped worsening, but recovery remained a distant prospect. His eyes, filled with wisdom and pain, were tightly shut. On his forehead, where the Soul Bone Core should have shone with a deep blue light, only faint, unstable ripples of energy stirred—he was channeling everything into the Demon Whale Clan's ancient secret communication technique.

This was not the transmission of sound, but a directional, extremely covert "call" based on soul resonance and fluctuations in deep-sea spirit energy. It was like lighting a faint signal lamp in the pitch-black depths, flashing at a specific frequency that only his own kind could "see." Every flash and every dimming consumed what little soul strength and vitality Mo Yuan had left. Yet he held nothing back, his eyes filled with profound resolve.

Time passed slowly as they waited.

One day, two days... five days passed.

Mo Yuan's presence grew weaker and weaker, his enormous body trembling faintly from time to time. Jingtian did not urge him on. He merely took some of the soul power he had recovered, converted it into gentle, nourishing energy through his Ninth Tentacle, and silently fed it into Mo Yuan's body, sustaining the bare minimum needed to keep him alive and maintain the technique. This was a gamble. Mo Yuan's life was the stake, and the wager was whether they could obtain valuable intelligence before his oil ran dry and his lamp went out.

On the evening of the sixth day.

Mo Yuan's enormous body suddenly shuddered. His tightly closed eyes snapped open, filled with exhaustion, but deep within them, a spark of indescribable excitement ignited alongside... heart-piercing grief.

"Benefactor..." His weak but clear thought reached Jingtian, choked with anguish as though he were weeping blood. "I reached them... three groups... all... almost at their limit..."

"Speak." Jingtian's thought was curt and cold, like an ice spike steeped in poison, though he suppressed an exceedingly faint tremor deep within.

Mo Yuan dared not delay. Forcing himself to endure, he shared with Jingtian the three fragmented streams of information he had caught through Deep Sea Echo, each filled with utter despair and the agony of approaching death.

Report one:

Location: southwest, approximately fifteen hundred nautical miles away, at the boundary between a complex coral reef known as the Shattered Star Seabed and the Shipwreck Graveyard.

Seeking aid: a female Demon Whale with approximately seventy-five thousand years of cultivation, accompanied by a calf with approximately ten thousand years of cultivation.

Enemies: four human Soul Masters (two Soul Douluos and two Soul Saints), leading six Demon Soul Great White Sharks with an average cultivation of approximately thirty thousand years.

Situation: the mother had suffered several wounds while protecting her calf, greatly reducing her speed. The enemies had surrounded them in a relatively open stretch of seabed. She was barely holding them off by relying on the complex terrain and her Whale Breath Mist, which interfered with perception, but her soul power expenditure was immense, and her calf was terrified and weak. The transmission carried the calf's piercing cries and fluctuations indicating that the mother's soul power was about to run dry. They were in imminent danger and might not last another half day.

Report two:

Location: due west, approximately two thousand nautical miles away, in the Abyss Stairs region near the edge of the continental shelf (a series of steep underwater cliffs).

Seeking aid: a male Demon Whale in his prime with eighty-three thousand years of cultivation, a volatile temper, and extensive combat experience.

Enemies: five human Soul Masters (three Soul Douluos and two Soul Saints), along with eight Demon Soul Great White Sharks averaging forty thousand years of cultivation, commanded by a Demon Soul Great White Shark leader with sixty thousand years of cultivation.

Situation: the Demon Whale had attempted to use the complex terrain of the Abyss Stairs to ambush his enemies, only for them to see through his plan and surround him instead. His left flank had been badly wounded, but his ferocity had erupted, and he was still resisting fiercely. He had already killed one Demon Soul Great White Shark with ten thousand years of cultivation and wounded one Soul Saint. However, the transmission carried frenzied fluctuations of soul power burning violently, nearly exhausted, along with the enemies' sharp killing intent as they tightened their encirclement and launched an all-out assault. Within two to four hours, he might die of exhaustion or be slain by concentrated attacks.

Report three:

Location: northwest, approximately eight hundred nautical miles away, in the Hydrothermal Vent Forest near an enormous underwater volcanic crater.

Seeking aid: two Demon Whales. One had approximately sixty thousand years of cultivation and relatively light injuries; the other had approximately fifty thousand years, but a horrific tear across its abdomen was bleeding continuously, leaving it in extremely poor condition.

Enemies: three human Soul Masters (one Soul Douluo and two Soul Saints), leading five Demon Soul Great White Sharks.

Situation: the two Demon Whales appeared to be mates or companions. The more severely injured one had nearly lost the ability to move, its life flickering like a candle in the wind. The other refused to abandon it, struggling to maneuver with its wounded companion through the chaotic energy fields and high temperatures of the vent forest in an attempt to shake off their pursuers. The enemies did not seem eager to press their attack. Instead, they appeared to be herding the whales and wearing them down, waiting for the best opportunity. Most prominent in the transmission were the grievously wounded whale's ever-fainter pulse of life and the other whale's soul-wail, filled with despair and a resolve to die. The wounded whale could breathe its last at any moment, and the other might then collapse or die alongside it.

Three reports, three different battlefields, all pointing toward the same end—a countdown to death, measured in hours or even less.

Jingtian's cold mind instantly stripped away every unnecessary consideration. Low risk and high returns, the advantages and disadvantages of terrain, difficult temperaments... all of it paled before the two crucial factors: "almost at their limit" and "Dan-Devour."

Dan-Devour was the most powerful weapon he had prepared to break through precisely this kind of desperate situation!

Save those closest to death first, because once they died, nothing would remain!

His thought was like a poisoned blade drawn from its sheath, instantly locking onto the third report—the Hydrothermal Vent Forest and that dying pair!

His reasons were cold and efficient:

The shortest distance: only eight hundred li. At full speed, I could reach them in the least time!

The weakest enemies: only one Soul Douluo leading the group—the lineup Dan-Devour was most likely to wipe out in an instant!

Clear targets: saving them meant gaining two whales. Even if one was badly injured, it would be fighting strength if it survived. If it could not be saved... its life essence could still be used. The other would surely become utterly devoted.

Environmental interference: the Hydrothermal Vent Forest's energy turbulence and high temperatures would certainly affect me, but they would also severely disrupt the enemies' perception and coordination, creating ideal conditions for a surprise Dan-Devour attack! Their "herding" tactic showed that they, too, feared the environment and had not gained complete control of the situation.

"The third report. The Hydrothermal Vent Forest. That pair of mates." Jingtian's thought was decisive, carrying an unquestionable resolve to kill.

"But... benefactor, the environment there would affect you..." Mo Yuan voiced his instinctive concern.

"What is there to fear?" Jingtian interrupted him, his thought radiating utterly cold confidence. "Notify the one still alive. Tell it to hold on at any cost. Even if it has to burn its own life, it must last one more hour for me! Tell it reinforcements are on their way. Have it move toward the crater's most active core, where the eruptions are fiercest, and lure the enemies there too!"

"Yes!" Awed by the icy killing intent and absolute confidence in Jingtian's thought, Mo Yuan said no more. He immediately gathered the last of his mental strength and sent a powerful, brief directive, laden with command, toward those coordinates.

"Stay here. Keep recuperating and maintain the bare minimum of awareness." Jingtian delivered his final order to Mo Yuan as his body slid out of the shadows like a phantom. "Wait for my return."

Before his words had faded, his immense body had merged into the darkness. His Ninth Tentacle unleashed unprecedented power, propelling him like the swiftest black arrow in the deep sea. He tore through the water, hurtling northwest!

He pushed his speed to the absolute limit of his current condition, even accepting a slight expenditure of his primal soul power!

Eight hundred li—he had to reach them within one hour!

Concealment, stealth—he cast it all from his mind. Saving lives was like fighting a fire; what mattered was seizing that instant between life and death!

His savage speed plowed a momentary gap through the deep sea. Low-level soul beasts along his path fled in terror. Jingtian paid them no heed. Only one thought remained in his mind:

Faster! Faster still!

Dan-Devour was ready. His venomous fangs thirsted for blood.

How could the reaper arrive late for his appointment?

The Hydrothermal Vent Forest, that despairing pair of mates, that arrogant hunting squad...

He was coming.

Bearing an invitation to death, and... an icy chance at life.