First Meeting at the Sea of Blood

Chapter 30: First Encounter with the Sea of Blood

The third day, a moment before midnight.

Taiyi stood on the cliff edge of Weeping Blood Valley, the night wind whipping his tattered robes. It carried the metallic, decaying stench from the valley floor, making them flap wildly.

He hadn't slept for the past three days.

The thin, inert energy within the stone cave was negligible for his current body. Most of his time was spent repeatedly circulating the clumsy yet forceful "Internal Order Maintenance Method" he'd gleaned from the Heaven-Opening Axe Imprint. He used sheer willpower to suppress the restless energies within, while simultaneously squeezing out every last drop of spiritual power from the True Sun Fire Origin, like wringing out a nearly dry sponge.

The effect was limited.

The flame in his Dantian burned a little brighter, but it was far from "vigorous." His spiritual power had recovered less than half a tenth, and circulating it felt like an old ox pulling a broken cart – sluggish and frustrating. The rough "cement patches" on his meridians had become sturdier, at least no longer sending jolts of pain that threatened to split them.

His left arm remained heavy, stiff, and unresponsive, but he'd managed to adapt, using his right arm and body's center of gravity to maintain balance. The superficial wounds on his body had scabbed over, dark red and black, looking gruesome but thankfully no longer bleeding.

Overall, he was still heavily injured, weak, and vulnerable. Thrown into the Great Wilderness, any moderately powerful Grand Unity Golden Immortal could have ended him while he was down.

But at least he could stand, walk, and use the meager strength he'd gathered to perform the most basic Cloud Soaring Art (which felt more like crawling on a cloud). He'd wobbled his way out from the depths of the earth's veins and found this accursed place called "Weeping Blood Valley."

The valley lived up to its name.

Looking down from the cliff, it was bottomless. Not dark, but a viscous, deep red, as if it had settled for countless ages. It looked like a wound in the earth, revealing its rotten flesh. The thick, nauseatingly sweet and fishy odor wafted up from this abyss, making one's head spin if inhaled for too long.

The valley walls were sheer as if carved by knives, covered in strange, dark red crystals and wind-eroded bone-like protrusions—the bones of some unknown creature, presumably soaked here for who knows how many years to turn this color.

There were no insect chirps, no beast roars. Even the wind seemed to whimper and distort as it reached the valley's edge. In the absolute silence, only the stench spoke volumes.

Time was almost up.

Taiyi did a final check of his condition, confirming that his pathetic cultivation and the mess of his injuries were impossible to hide. Facing a veteran like Styx, pretending to be at full strength would be laughable. It was better to admit his weakness, but to do so with dignity.

He took a deep breath of the unpleasant, fishy air and leaped off the cliff.

His body plummeted through the viscous, foul wind, his robes plastered to his lean, scarred frame. He didn't use any fancy escape techniques, just fell straight down, like a stone dropped into a pool of blood.

After descending about a thousand feet, the dark red intensified, and the light nearly vanished. Just then, somewhere below in the abyss, a faint, distorted circle of dark red light flickered to life.

The light outlined a fragmented, ancient pattern, about thirty feet in diameter, carved into a relatively flat patch of black rock at the valley floor. The lines were rough and twisted, as if chiseled by something sharp. Much of it was weathered and worn, but the core still retained a chilling, ancient, and ominous aura.

Remnants of an ancient blood sacrifice formation.

Taiyi adjusted his posture, descending towards the center of the light.

The moment his feet touched the black rock, an icy chill shot up from the soles of his feet! It wasn't the cold of temperature, but a bone-deep, soul-piercing chill born from endless resentment and deathly stillness!

Simultaneously, the fragmented formation patterns beneath his feet flared to life, glowing with a viscous, semi-congealed blood-red luster!

The stench instantly intensified tenfold! Taiyi's vision blurred as the surrounding scenery began to twist and spin violently! The cliff, the valley walls, the night sky... everything seemed to be thrown into a blender, becoming indistinct splotches of color, then swallowed by the endless dark red!

Spatial transfer?

No, not a conventional teleportation or instantaneous movement. It felt more like stepping into a passage, a conduit forged from pure filth and resentment, connecting the mortal realm to this special "domain"—the Sea of Blood!

Viscous, slippery, cold, suffocating...

Countless fragments of chaotic thoughts surged into Taiyi's consciousness like a tide—desperate wails, mad ramblings, venomous curses, and the most primal desires for slaughter and consumption... These were the "impurities" settled over the endless eons of the Sea of Blood, now rushing through this passage!

An ordinary Golden Immortal would likely have their soul corrupted and their foundation shattered instantly. Taiyi's peak Grand Unity cultivation base remained intact, and with the residual imprint of the Chaos Bell and the Heaven-Opening Axe Imprint in his sea of consciousness, these chaotic thoughts, though giving him a splitting headache and making him feel nauseous, couldn't truly erode his core.

He held onto a sliver of clarity in his mind, letting his body tumble and slide uncontrollably within this bizarre passage.

After an unknown duration, perhaps an instant, perhaps an eternity.

His feet landed on solid ground!

The viscous, slippery sensation vanished, replaced by a pervasive feeling of being submerged.

Taiyi steadied himself and looked up.

Dark red.

Ubiquitous, endless dark red.

The sky (if those churning, dark red, heavy clouds could be called a sky) was dark red, pressing down low as if within reach. Beneath his feet was a viscous, slowly churning dark red liquid, emitting a stench a hundred times more potent than that of Weeping Blood Valley, a mix of sweetness and decay. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but boundless "blood water," occasionally broken by strangely shaped dark red reefs, islands of bone piles, or the outlines of colossal creature remains emerging from the bloody depths.

No sun, moon, or stars. No mountains or rivers, no plants. Only blood, and the deathly stillness and strangeness born from it.

This was the Sea of Blood.

The convergence point of the Great Wilderness's most Yin and filthy energies, the dojo of Old Ancestor Styx.

Taiyi was currently standing on a small "floating island" made of some kind of black bone fragments. This island seemed to be specifically for this transfer point, only a few dozen feet across.

As soon as he stabilized himself, the viscous blood water in front of him parted silently.

It wasn't pushed aside by force, but rather as if the blood water itself possessed consciousness, respectfully clearing a path.

A "road" made of dark blood water stretched straight into the depths of the Sea of Blood. On either side of the path, the blood water rose slightly, like a silent procession.

At the end of the road, in the center of the Sea of Blood, a colossal palace constructed entirely of stark white bones and dark red crystals slowly rose from the bloody depths.

The palace's design was ancient, even crude. There were no carved beams or painted eaves, only the most primitive stacking and joining of bones, exuding an aura of wildness and death. The main gate of the palace stood open, revealing a profound darkness within.

A figure appeared silently on the steps before the palace's main gate.

He wore a robe that seemed woven from solidified dark red blood. His frame was tall and thin, his face deathly pale, devoid of any color, yet his features were exceptionally clear and handsome. But his eyes... were pure, unadulterated crimson.

Old Ancestor Styx.

He didn't exude any world-shattering aura. Just standing there, he seemed to be the center of the entire Sea of Blood. Boundless bloodlust, resentment, and deathly stillness all became his natural backdrop and foil.

His gaze, across the vast space of the Sea of Blood, fell upon Taiyi.

The look was calm, even indifferent, yet Taiyi felt as if countless cold, blood-stained tentacles were simultaneously caressing his skin, raising goosebumps instantly. The few forces within him, barely maintaining balance, stirred slightly under that gaze. Especially the remnants of the Blood Fiend and the earth-vein malevolent energy, which felt an urge to bow towards the other party!

Taiyi's heart grew solemn. He forcefully suppressed the turmoil within his body, straightening his spine at the same time.

I cannot show weakness.

He met that gaze, neither flinching nor avoiding it, even lifting his chin slightly. Though his clothes were tattered, his body covered in scars, and his left arm mutated, the arrogance and intensity belonging to Eastern Emperor Taiyi, originating from the essence of the Sun Star, was deliberately and unreservedly released by him.

It was like a drop of scorching hot gold oil falling into the cold, viscous Sea of Blood.

Two completely opposite auras collided and clashed silently in that bloody space.

A faint, almost imperceptible glimmer seemed to flash in Styx's scarlet eyes. He slowly spoke, his voice no longer the hollow echo of the projection but possessing a real, viscous texture like flowing blood:

"Eastern Emperor Your Majesty, you grace my humble Sea of Blood with your presence by traveling from afar."

His tone was flat, revealing neither joy nor anger, nor any trace of the previous "old bat" remark.

Taiyi's tone was equally calm, even carrying a faint, detached air befitting a superior: "Fellow Daoist Styx invited me, how could this Emperor refuse. However, your Sea of Blood is indeed more... impressive than the rumors suggest."

He paused deliberately, his gaze sweeping over the boundless blood waves and the stark white bones around them, his meaning self-evident—this place is truly not for mortals.

A faint, almost ethereal smile seemed to flicker across Styx's pale face: "Though the Sea of Blood is humble, it is a singularity where the clear and turbid of heaven and earth converge, and the cycle of life and death turns. Your Majesty, bearing the True Sun Fire, the ultimate yang and supreme rigidity, it is only natural to feel some discomfort upon entering."

He lightly pointed out the conflict between Taiyi's power attributes and the environment, also hinting at his thorough understanding of Taiyi's condition.

"Please." Styx gestured, stepping aside.

The path of blood water beneath his feet silently extended to the edge of the floating island where Taiyi stood.

Taiyi did not hesitate and stepped onto it.

A viscous support met his foot, like stepping on elastic gel. On either side of the blood path, the raised "honor guards" seemed to undulate, as if watching.

He walked slowly, his steps even a bit heavy due to his injuries and weakness, but each step was incredibly steady. The True Sun Fire within him was restrained to the extreme, glowing only faintly at the core of his Dantian, resisting the pervasive, sinister erosion from the outside. His mutated left arm hung naturally at his side, his right hand behind his back, his gaze fixed forward, his expression indifferent, as if he were not walking through the heart of the terrifying Sea of Blood, but inspecting his own garden.

He was acting. Acting as the Eastern Emperor Taiyi who, even in his fallen and heavily wounded state, venturing into the tiger's den, remained defiant and fearless.

And Styx stood on the steps before the palace, quietly "watching" him approach.

The distance shortened.

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

When Taiyi finally stepped onto the palace steps formed by countless giant bones, just three zhang away from Styx, the air between them seemed to freeze.

The bloody stench was at its peak, yet it strangely possessed a cold "purity"—this was Styx's personal domain of pure will, repelling the natural chaos and filth of the Sea of Blood.

Taiyi stopped, meeting Styx's gaze.

At such close proximity, he could see more clearly into the depths of Styx's scarlet eyes—they were not empty but seemed to contain countless tiny blood waves churning, annihilating, and regenerating, enacting the most primal acts of slaughter and creation. The ancient, profound aura emanating from Styx, integrated with the entire Sea of Blood, became even more palpable.

The pressure was immense.

But Taiyi's spine remained straight, his gaze unwavering.

A brief silence.

Styx slowly spoke, his voice still viscous and flat: "Your Majesty's injuries are not light, and the aura within you is even more... spectacular. To leave a mark in Pangu Hall and escape from Xuan Ming's grasp, you are indeed extraordinary."

He brought up the matter again, both to indicate his "knowledge" of what Taiyi had done and as a subtle probe—how did you manage that?

Taiyi tugged at the corner of his mouth, revealing a cold, defiant sneer: "A few minor injuries, no need for Fellow Daoist to worry. As for Pangu Hall... this Emperor merely went to admire the legacy of the Father God, and to leave a mark for those ignorant barbarians."

His tone was relaxed, even a bit nonchalant, as if storming the Witch Race's sacred ground and carving a challenge was a casual act. He downplayed his severe injuries and dishevelment as "minor injuries," and turned earth-shattering events into "leaving a mark."

This was the arrogance of Eastern Emperor Taiyi, and the persona he had to maintain at that moment.

Styx's scarlet eyes watched him quietly, not responding, as if judging how much truth there was in his words, how much was mere bravado.

After a few breaths, he spoke again, but the topic suddenly shifted:

"Does Your Majesty know why this Sea of Blood does not dry up?"

Taiyi's brow twitched almost imperceptibly. A test? Or did he wish to expound on his "Dao"?

"Resentment and hatred are endless in the Great Wilderness, and slaughter never ceases. The purest yin and most defiled energies continuously converge, so naturally, the Sea of Blood will never run dry." Taiyi gave an answer based on common knowledge.

"Yes and no." Styx's voice seemed to carry a hint of indescribable meaning, "Resentment and slaughter are its 'source.' But the Sea of Blood can exist, grow, form its own realm, and even... nurture life, relies not solely on convergence."

He raised a pale hand, pointing a fingertip towards the boundless Sea of Blood below, and gently tapped.

"It relies on refinement, and rebirth."

"Endless filth enters my Sea of Blood, washed by the blood waves, tempered by the blood fiends. The dross is removed, and the essence remains. Resentment transforms into killing intent, death energy into vitality. Amidst decay... new buds can also bloom."

His gaze returned to Taiyi, a certain faint glow seeming to flash in his scarlet eyes:

"Your Majesty now, the pure and turbid intermingle within, yin and yang are in chaos, and various forces clash. It appears to be a desperate situation, like a mass of... unrefined 'chaos.' It bears a striking resemblance to the various impurities my Sea of Blood collects."

The scheme revealed.

Styx had gone in circles, finally revealing his intention—he had perceived Taiyi's peculiar physical state (turbid and pure intermingling, multiple forces clashing) and likened it to the Sea of Blood's path of "refinement." The subtext was: your current predicament might have a solution through my Sea of Blood's "Dao," or at least a reference path.

This was bait, and a further probe. He wanted to see Taiyi's reaction—whether he sought a solution or had other means of support.

Taiyi's thoughts raced. Styx's words had indeed struck a chord with him. The situation within his body could accurately be described as "a small chaotic vortex." While the Sea of Blood's method of "refining filth and creating new life" was extremely wicked, its underlying principles of "unity of opposites" and "life from the brink of death" might truly offer him some inspiration, helping him better "open up" and "unify" the various forces within him.

But this bait was poisoned.

Accepting Styx's "Dao" would inevitably incur karma, and he might even be unknowingly eroded and assimilated by the Dao of the Sea of Blood.

He fell silent for a moment, the arrogant sneer on his face slowly receding, replaced by a profound calmness.

"Fellow Daoist's Dao, using killing to stop killing, refining purity with filth, seizing the world's impurity to nourish oneself, is indeed a grand feat of courage and divine ability," Taiyi said slowly, his tone devoid of praise or criticism. "However, this Emperor's path is different from yours."

He paused, then looked directly into Styx's scarlet eyes and said, word by word:

"This Emperor's Dao lies within myself. Even if it is a chaotic vortex, I shall open it with my own hands. Even if water and fire are irreconcilable, I shall command them with my will. External forces can be borrowed, but one's Dao... cannot be changed."

These words were spoken with absolute conviction, simultaneously rejecting Styx's implied "guidance" and "recruitment," and re-emphasizing the absolute nature of his own will. He made it clear that even in his current predicament, he would never easily switch allegiances or submit to another's Dao.

This was a principle, and a bottom line.

Styx listened quietly, his pale face showing no change in expression. Only the blood waves deep within his scarlet eyes seemed to churn a little more intensely.

After a moment of silence, he suddenly clapped his hands lightly.

"Well said, 'open it with my own hands'." Styx's voice finally seemed to carry a faint trace of genuine emotion, like admiration, or perhaps the playful curiosity one might feel towards an interesting toy. "Your Majesty's ambition is indeed extraordinary. Since that is the case..."

He stepped aside, clearing the path to the main entrance of the palace.

"Though the Sea of Blood is humble, it can still accommodate guests. Your Majesty might as well rest here and recuperate. As for the path ahead, you and I... can discuss it later."

He invited Taiyi into the palace.

This signified that the initial verbal exchange and probing had temporarily come to an end. Styx had recognized the "value" (courage, resolve, the secrets he held) and "principles" Taiyi had displayed, and decided to bring him under his wing for further observation and planning.

And Taiyi, in turn, had temporarily gained permission to shelter in the Sea of Blood and evade the Witch Race's pursuit.

The price was that he had to remain under the watchful eye of this old devil.

Taiyi looked at the deep entrance of the palace, then glanced at Styx beside him, whose aura was as profound and unfathomable as an abyss. An alarm bell rang in his heart, but his expression remained unchanged.

He nodded slightly, said no more, and stepped into the palace.

His figure disappeared into the darkness within.

Styx stood outside the palace gate, his scarlet eyes gazing in the direction Taiyi had vanished. His pale fingers unconsciously rubbed a dark red, almost black, pattern on his sleeve cuff.

After a long while, a whisper so low it was almost inaudible, like a drop of blood falling into still water, drifted in the foul wind:

"Open up... Unify... An interesting little fellow. The aura of tribulation churns, and variables arise... This Old Ancestor shall see what moves you can make in this game."

As his voice faded, his figure also slowly blurred, as if merging with the background of the Sea of Blood, and disappeared.

The massive palace gates closed silently.

The Sea of Blood returned to its endless dark red and deathly stillness. Only the stark white bone palace, like a slumbering behemoth, floated quietly amidst the bloody waves.