First Encounter in the Blood Sea

On the third day, a quarter-hour before midnight.

Taiyi stood atop a cliff at the edge of Weeping Blood Valley. The night wind swept up from the valley floor, carrying a reek of rust and decay that made his tattered robes snap loudly.

He had barely slept these past three days.

The thin, inert energy within the stone hollow was better than nothing for his current body. Most of the time, he repeatedly circulated the crude yet forceful "internal order maintenance method" he had comprehended from the Heaven-Opening Axe Imprint, using sheer will to suppress the several energies constantly threatening to erupt. At the same time, like squeezing a nearly dry sponge, he extracted bit by bit from the source of the True Sun Fire to restore his mana.

The results were limited.

The flame in his dantian had brightened somewhat, but it was still far from vigorous. Less than half a percent of his mana had recovered, and its circulation still felt as sluggish as an old ox pulling a broken cart. The crude "cement patches" along his meridians had become sturdier, at least. They no longer sent stabbing pain through him at the slightest hint that they might crack.

His left arm remained heavy, stiff, and unresponsive, but he had at least reluctantly adapted to balancing himself with his right hand and shifting center of gravity. The countless wounds across his body had scabbed over, dark red and black enough to look terrifying, though fortunately they were no longer bleeding.

Overall, he was still grievously injured and terribly weak. Toss him into the Great Wilderness, and any somewhat formidable Grand Unity Golden Immortal could take his life while he was down.

But at least he could stand upright, walk, and use the little strength he had scraped together to cast the most basic cloud-riding technique—whose effect was roughly equivalent to crawling on a cloud. He had staggered up from deep beneath the earth veins and found this cursed place called Weeping Blood Valley.

The valley lived up to its name.

Looking down from the cliff, its depths were bottomless. It was not darkness, but a viscous dark red that seemed to have settled over countless ages, as though the earth had split open a wound and exposed the rotting flesh beneath. The thick, sickeningly sweet stench drifted up from that abyss, enough to make his head swim if he breathed it for too long.

The valley walls were steep as blades, covered in bizarre dark-red crystals and weathered protrusions resembling bones—bones of some unknown creature that had soaked in this cursed place for untold years, taking on this color.

There were no insects chirping, no beasts roaring. Even the wind became distorted and mournful upon reaching the valley mouth. Within the absolute silence, only that bloody stench spoke without sound.

It was about time.

Taiyi gave himself one final inspection. He confirmed that neither his pitiful cultivation nor the sorry state of his severe injuries could be concealed. Before an old monster like Styx, pretending to be at full strength would only be laughable. Better to openly show weakness—but weakness with backbone.

He drew in a breath of that unpleasant stench and leaped from the cliff.

His body plummeted through the viscous, bloody wind. His robes were pressed tightly against him, revealing a lean, powerful figure covered in scars. He used no flashy escape technique, simply falling straight down like a stone cast into a pool of blood.

After descending roughly a thousand zhang, the dark red around him became denser, and the light nearly vanished. Then, somewhere in the abyss below, a faint, warped dark-red glow suddenly appeared.

The light outlined an incomplete ancient pattern, roughly ten zhang across, carved into a relatively flat slab of black rock at the valley floor. Its lines were crude and twisted, as though they had been forcibly chiseled out with something sharp. Much of it had weathered away, but its core still retained an ancient, ominous aura that made his heart tremble.

Remains of an ancient blood-sacrifice formation.

Taiyi adjusted his posture and descended toward the center of that glow.

The instant his feet touched the black rock, a bone-piercing chill shot upward from his soles! It was not the cold of temperature, but a sinister frost steeped in endless resentment and deathly silence, piercing straight into his soul!

At the same time, the incomplete formation markings beneath his feet seemed to activate, abruptly lighting up with a viscous dark-red sheen like half-coagulated blood!

The stench intensified tenfold in an instant! Taiyi's vision blurred as the scenery around him began to violently twist and spin! The cliff, the valley walls, the night sky... everything seemed to be thrown into a blender, reduced to indistinct blocks of color before being swallowed by endless dark red!

Spatial transfer?

No, it was not an ordinary instantaneous movement or teleportation. It was more like stepping into a passage—a tunnel connecting the present world with the special realm known as the Blood Sea, formed from pure filth and resentment!

Viscous, slick, cold, suffocating...

Countless fragments of chaotic thoughts crashed into Taiyi's sea of consciousness like a tide—desperate wails, mad ravings, venomous curses, and the most primal urges to slaughter and devour... These were the "impurities" accumulated over endless ages within the Blood Sea, now surging through this passage!

An ordinary Golden Immortal would likely have their soul contaminated in an instant, their Dao foundation collapsing. Taiyi's foundation as a peak Great Luo remained intact. In addition, the Chaos Bell's afterimage and the Heaven-Opening Axe Imprint guarded his sea of consciousness. Though the chaotic thoughts made his head feel as though it were splitting and filled him with nausea, they could not truly erode his core.

He guarded the last point of clarity in his mind, allowing his body to tumble and slide uncontrollably through the strange passage.

Who knew how long passed—perhaps an instant, perhaps a very long time.

His feet found solid ground!

The viscous, slick sensation vanished, replaced by a feeling of... being immersed everywhere.

Taiyi steadied himself and looked up.

Dark red.

Dark red filled heaven and earth, endless and boundless.

The sky—if those churning, rolling layers of heavy dark-red clouds could be called a sky—was dark red, pressing low enough to seem within reach. Beneath his feet was a viscous, slowly surging dark-red liquid, emitting a sweetly bloody and rotten stench a hundred times stronger than Weeping Blood Valley's. As far as he could see, there was nothing but endless "bloodwater," along with the occasional bizarre dark-red reef emerging from it, islands piled with bones, or the outlines of some enormous creature's remains.

There was no sun, moon, or stars. No mountains, rivers, grass, or trees. There was only blood, and all the deathly silence and strangeness born from blood.

This was the Blood Sea.

The gathering place of the Great Wilderness's most yin and foul qi, the dojo of Old Ancestor Styx.

Taiyi stood upon a small "floating island" pieced together from some kind of black bones. It seemed specifically constructed for this transmission point and was only several zhang wide.

The moment he had steadied himself, the viscous bloodwater ahead silently parted.

It was not forced aside by power. Rather, the bloodwater itself seemed to possess consciousness, respectfully making way for him.

A "road" formed from dark bloodwater stretched straight into the depths of the Blood Sea. On either side, the bloodwater rose slightly, like a silent honor guard.

At the road's end, in the center of the Blood Sea, an enormous palace built entirely from ghastly white bones and dark-red crystals slowly rose from the bloodwater.

The palace was ancient and primitive in design, even crude. There were no carved beams or painted rafters, only the most primitive stacking and joining of bones, filled with the aura of savagery and death. Its great doors stood open, revealing profound darkness within.

A figure silently appeared upon the steps before the palace gates.

He wore a long robe that seemed woven from congealed dark-red blood. He was tall and thin, his face so pale it held not a trace of color. Yet his features were sharply defined and exceptionally handsome. Only those eyes... they were pure crimson, without a hint of impurity.

Old Ancestor Styx.

He released no earth-shaking aura. Yet merely standing there, he seemed to be the center of the entire Blood Sea. The boundless bloodshed, resentment, and deathly silence all became his natural backdrop and adornment.

His gaze crossed the distant expanse of the Blood Sea and fell upon Taiyi.

That gaze was calm, even indifferent, but Taiyi felt as though countless icy tentacles soaked in blood had simultaneously brushed across his skin, raising goosebumps all over his body. The several forces barely maintaining balance within him stirred beneath that single look. In particular, the remnants of baleful blood and the earth-vein fiendish qi faintly seemed to want to bow in worship toward the other man!

Taiyi's heart tightened. He forcibly suppressed the disturbance within his body and straightened his back.

He could not show fear.

He met that gaze without flinching or avoiding it, even lifting his chin slightly. Though he wore tattered clothes, was covered in wounds, and had an altered left arm, the pride and blazing intensity belonging to Eastern Emperor Taiyi, born from the source of the Sun Star, poured forth from him without concealment.

Like a drop of scalding golden oil falling into the cold, viscous Blood Sea.

Two utterly opposing auras clashed silently in this blood-soaked space.

A faint glimmer seemed to flash through Styx's crimson eyes, so slight it was nearly impossible to detect. He slowly spoke. His voice no longer carried the hollow echo of his earlier projection, but instead possessed a genuine, viscous texture like flowing bloodwater.

"Eastern Emperor Your Majesty, you have come from afar. The Blood Sea is honored by your presence."

His tone was flat, revealing neither joy nor anger, nor any trace of grievance over Taiyi's previous "old bat" remark.

Taiyi's tone was equally calm, carrying even a faint detachment characteristic of one in a high position. "Fellow Daoist Styx extended an invitation. How could I not come? Though this Blood Sea of yours is even more... memorable than the rumors claimed."

He deliberately paused, his gaze sweeping across the boundless blood waves and ghastly white bones around them. The meaning was obvious—this truly was no place fit for anyone to stay.

A nearly nonexistent smile seemed to cross Styx's pale face. "Though the Blood Sea is humble, it is a peculiar point where heaven and earth's pure and impure forces converge, where life and death revolve. Your Majesty bears the True Sun Fire, the ultimate yang and rigidity. It is only natural that you would feel some discomfort upon first entering this place."

With a few casual words, he pointed out the conflict between Taiyi's power and this environment, while also suggesting that he fully understood Taiyi's condition.

"Please." Styx turned slightly and made an inviting gesture.

The road of bloodwater beneath his feet silently extended to the edge of Taiyi's floating island.

Taiyi did not hesitate. He stepped onto it.

A viscous supporting sensation came from beneath his feet, as though he were stepping on elastic gelatin. The raised "honor guards" on either side of the bloodwater road gently rose and fell, as if watching him.

He did not walk quickly. His steps were even somewhat heavy due to his injuries and weakness, but every step was steady. The small amount of True Sun Fire within him was restrained to the utmost, glowing only faintly at the core of his dantian as it resisted the all-pervasive corrosion of yin filth outside. His altered left arm hung naturally at his side, while his right hand rested behind his back. His gaze remained level and his expression cold, as though he were not walking through the core of the Blood Sea—a place feared by all—but inspecting his own garden.

He was acting. He was playing Eastern Emperor Taiyi, who remained proud and fearless even in ruin, grievously injured and deep within an enemy's den.

And Styx simply stood on the palace steps, silently "watching" him approach.

The distance closed.

A hundred zhang, fifty zhang, ten zhang...

When Taiyi finally stepped onto the palace stairs built from countless enormous bones, coming within three zhang of Styx, the air between them seemed to solidify.

The blood stench was at its most intense, yet it strangely carried an icy sense of "cleanliness"—a pure domain belonging to Styx's personal will, one that excluded even the Blood Sea's natural chaos and filth.

Taiyi stopped and met Styx's eyes at the same level.

At such close range, he could see more clearly into the depths of Styx's crimson eyes. They were not empty. Instead, countless tiny blood waves seemed to churn, perish, and be reborn within them, playing out the most primal forms of slaughter and creation. The ancient, profound aura on the other man, one utterly fused with the entire Blood Sea, became even clearer.

The pressure was mountain-like.

Yet Taiyi's back remained straight, and his gaze did not yield in the slightest.

A brief silence.

Styx slowly spoke, his voice still viscous and calm. "Your Majesty's injuries are not light, and the auras within your body are even more... splendidly varied. To leave words in Pangu Hall and escape from Xuan Ming's hands—you truly are extraordinary."

He raised the matter again. On one hand, it made clear that he knew what Taiyi had done. On the other, it was a subtle probe—what exactly had enabled him to accomplish it?

Taiyi curled his lips into a cold, arrogant smile. "Trifling injuries are not worth Fellow Daoist's concern. As for Pangu Hall... I merely went to pay respects to the Father God's legacy, and incidentally left a mark for those brutes who do not know the mandate of heaven."

His tone was relaxed, even mildly careless, as if breaking into the Witch Race's sacred ground and leaving words to provoke them had merely been done on a whim. He dismissed his grave injuries and sorry state as "trifling injuries," and described a world-shaking event as simply "leaving a mark."

This was Eastern Emperor Taiyi's arrogance, and it was the persona he had to maintain now.

Styx's crimson eyes watched him quietly without replying, as though judging how much truth and how much forced bravado lay in those words.

After several breaths, he spoke again, but abruptly changed the subject.

"Does Your Majesty know why this Blood Sea never dries?"

Taiyi's brow rose almost imperceptibly. Was this a test, or did Styx wish to expound upon his own Dao?

"Resentment and hatred in the Great Wilderness never cease, nor does slaughter. The ultimate yin and filth endlessly gather here, so naturally the Blood Sea cannot be exhausted." Taiyi gave an answer based on common knowledge.

"Yes, and no." An indescribable undertone seemed to enter Styx's voice. "Resentment, hatred, and slaughter are its 'source.' Yet what allows the Blood Sea to endure, to grow, to become a realm unto itself, and even... to nurture life is not mere accumulation."

He raised a pale hand and lightly pointed one finger toward the endless Blood Sea below.

"It relies upon refinement and re-creation."

"Endless filth enters my Blood Sea. Washed by blood waves and tempered by blood fiend qi, its dross is removed and its essence retained. Resentment becomes killing intent, death qi turns into vitality, and amid decay... new buds may bloom."

His gaze returned to Taiyi, and some faint glimmer seemed to flash in the depths of his crimson eyes.

"Your Majesty's body is currently a tangle of purity and filth, yin and yang in disorder, countless forces colliding. It appears to be a dead end, like a mass of... unrefined 'chaos.' In that regard, it bears some resemblance to the various impurities my Blood Sea receives."

The dagger was finally revealed.

After circling around the matter, Styx had finally made his intentions clear—he had seen Taiyi's unusual condition, the chaos of pure and impure forces and the conflict of multiple powers, and compared it to the Blood Sea's Dao of "refinement." The unspoken implication was clear: perhaps the Blood Sea's Dao could offer a solution to Taiyi's current troubles, or at least a path worth considering.

It was bait, and another probe. He wanted to see Taiyi's reaction. Would he seek a solution, or did he have other support to rely upon?

Taiyi's thoughts raced. Styx's words had indeed struck a chord with him. Describing the situation in his body as "a small mass of chaos" was not an exaggeration. The Blood Sea's method of "refining filth and creating new life" was extreme and wicked, but the principles of "unity of opposites" and "life arising at the brink of death" within it might truly offer him inspiration, helping him better "open" and "govern" the several forces inside himself.

But the bait was poisoned.

If he accepted enlightenment from Styx's Dao, he would inevitably owe karmic debt. He might even unknowingly be eroded and assimilated by the Blood Sea's Dao.

He fell silent for a moment. The arrogant cold smile on his face slowly faded, replaced by a profound calm.

"Fellow Daoist's path uses slaughter to end slaughter, filth to refine purity, seizing heaven and earth's foulness to nourish oneself. It is indeed a Dao of great boldness and great divine ability." Taiyi spoke slowly, his tone neither praising nor condemning. "However, my path differs from yours."

He paused, raising his eyes to stare directly into Styx's crimson gaze as he said each word clearly.

"My Dao lies within myself. Even if I am a mass of chaos, I will open it with my own hands. Even if water and fire cannot coexist, I will govern them with my own will. External power may be borrowed, but one's Dao... cannot be changed."

His words were decisive. He had both tactfully refused Styx's implied "guidance" and "recruitment," while once again emphasizing the absolute nature of his own will. Even in his current fallen state, he would never easily change allegiance or submit to another's Dao.

This was his principle, and his bottom line.

Styx listened quietly. No expression changed on his pale face. Yet the blood waves in the depths of his crimson eyes seemed to churn just a little more fiercely.

After a moment of silence, he suddenly gave a soft clap.

"What a fine 'open it with my own hands.'" At last, Styx's voice seemed to carry the faintest trace of genuine emotion, like admiration—or like the amused interest of someone who had found an intriguing toy. "Your Majesty's ambition is truly remarkable. In that case..."

He turned aside, clearing the way through the palace gates.

"Though the Blood Sea is humble, it can still accommodate a guest. Your Majesty may rest here for now and recover your strength. As for what path lies ahead, you and I... may discuss it later."

An invitation into the palace.

This meant that their initial verbal clash and probing had temporarily come to an end. Styx acknowledged the "value" Taiyi had displayed—his courage, resolve, and the secrets he carried—and his "principles." He had decided to bring Taiyi beneath his wing for now, then observe and scheme further.

And Taiyi had temporarily gained permission to stay in the Blood Sea and evade the Witch Race's pursuit.

The price was that he would have to remain beneath this old demon's watchful eye.

Taiyi looked at the palace entrance shrouded in darkness, then glanced at Styx beside him, whose aura was as unfathomable as an abyss. Warning bells rang softly in his mind, but his expression did not change.

He gave a slight nod, said nothing more, and stepped toward the hall.

His figure disappeared into the darkness within the palace.

Styx stood outside the palace gates. His crimson eyes watched the direction in which Taiyi had vanished, while his pale fingers unconsciously rubbed a dark-red, nearly black pattern on his sleeve.

After a long while, a nearly inaudible murmur drifted into the bloody wind, like a drop of blood falling into still water.

"Opening... governing... What an interesting little fellow. Calamity Qi churns, and variables arise on their own... This ancestor shall see what move you can make in this game."

As his words faded, his figure gradually dimmed as well, seeming to merge into the Blood Sea's backdrop before disappearing.

The enormous palace gates silently closed.

The Blood Sea returned to endless dark red and deathly silence. Only that palace of ghastly white bones floated quietly amid the blood waves, like a slumbering beast.