Netherworld Valley
The news came three days later.
That evening, Ning Buhui had just returned from the martial arts training ground, her body drenched in a light sweat. She was splashing water on her face with a basin when a steward's low voice came from outside the door. "Your Highness, His Majesty summons you immediately."
He put down the cotton handkerchief, casually changed into a clean set of dark-colored clothing, and strode towards the side hall. He knew in his heart that Netherworld Phoenix must have found a clue.
Upon entering the hall, Bibi Dong was standing by the window, a sealed letter between her fingers, clearly having just arrived. Seeing him enter, she placed the letter on the table and cut to the chase. "You're lucky, kid. Our intelligence team recently spotted it on the outskirts of Netherworld Valley. Dark gold feathers, Netherworld Fire —it can't be wrong."
Ning Buhui a slight tremor in her heart, but her face remained impassive. "When shall we set off?"
"Now." Bibi Dong turned around, picked up the purple cloak from the back of the chair, unfolded it, and draped it over her shoulders. "The Netherworld Valley is a full half-month's journey from Spirit City. I'll take you flying; we'll be there in a few days. It won't linger in that area for long. If we delay any longer and it moves, who knows when we'll encounter it again."
Ning Buhui nodded in agreement without uttering a single unnecessary word. He knew Bibi Dong's personality best; she acted swiftly and decisively, never dragging her feet.
The two left the Pope Hall and walked to the square in front of it. Bibi Dong did not avoid the patrolling deacons around her. With a slight ripple of her Soul Power, she lifted Ning Buhui and herself up and flew quickly towards the Netherworld Valley.
The strong wind whipped at his clothes, making them flutter loudly. Ning Buhui looked down, and the majestic outline of Spirit City rapidly shrank in his field of vision, with mountains and rivers unfolding beneath his feet like a scroll painting. Bibi Dong's flying speed was astonishing, far exceeding what he could achieve with the full force of his Wind Thunder Wings —the vast cultivation of Titled Douluo was on full display at this moment.
"Raising your own Soul Power barrier is also a form of cultivation." She glanced at him indifferently.
Upon hearing this, Ning Buhui Ning Buhui closed her eyes, steadied herself amidst the howling wind pressure, and silently circulated her Soul Power to form a barrier, blocking the wind pressure caused by the rapid flight. A journey of a few days was not long, but it could not be wasted.
Three days later, at dusk.
The two landed at the mouth of a valley filled with jagged rocks.
Ning Buhui steadied herself, looked up, and her brows furrowed slightly.
The view begins with a long, narrow, and deep valley, its cliffs sheer and dark gray, almost black, as if cleaved by a giant axe. A layer of dark purple miasma hangs in the air, not thick, but flowing slowly along the ground like a thin veil, obscuring the rocks and dead trees below. The air carries a sweet, pungent smell of rotting wood and sulfur, which feels slightly heavy when inhaled, as if fine needles are drilling into the veins.
"This is Netherworld Miasma." Bibi Dong stood beside him, her voice calm and even. "Anyone below the Soul King will have their Soul Power eroded if they come into contact with it. It's nothing to you or me. Stay close to me and don't wander off."
Having said that, she stepped into the valley entrance. The dark purple miasma, upon touching a space three feet around her, automatically parted as if it were remnants of snow encountering a raging fire, as if it were forcibly separated by an invisible barrier.
Ning Buhui followed behind her, circulating his Soul Power to protect his meridians. His Pupil of Illusion Breaking activated automatically, and the scene before him instantly became several times clearer—the originally hazy purple mist disintegrated into countless fine dark purple particles, each wrapped with a weak corrosive Soul Power, and even the fine indentations on the cliff face eroded by the miasma were clearly visible.
"Your eyes..." Bibi Dong, walking ahead, suddenly spoke, "Is it that skull? Can it see through the miasma?"
"I can vaguely make out the outline." Ning Buhui didn't hide anything; he had already told Bibi Dong about the Pupil of Illusion Breaking.
Bibi Dong didn't ask any more questions, but quickened her pace.
The two walked along the valley floor for about half an hour, passing several animal skeletons scattered along the way. Their flesh had long been corroded by the miasma, leaving only pale skeletons. The deeper they went, the thicker the miasma became. Eventually, even Bibi Dong had to release a wisp of her Soul Power to create a light purple protective shield around the two of them.
Just then, Ning Buhui suddenly stopped in her tracks.
The Pupil of Illusion Breaking detected a strange movement in the far distance—three hundred feet ahead, on a huge ancient sycamore tree, a dark golden halo was pulsating slightly, its rhythm gentle, like the breathing of a living creature. "Teacher, ahead." He lowered his voice and gently pointed in that direction with his fingertip.
Bibi Dong's eyes narrowed. Her perception range was far superior to Ning Buhui's; she simply hadn't noticed it closely before. Now, following the direction he pointed, a faint smile appeared on her lips, "Found it."
The two moved quietly, taking advantage of the pervasive miasma and the jagged rocks to silently circle around to the ancient sycamore tree. Ning Buhui looked up through the gaps in the branches and leaves, her breath catching in her throat slightly.
It was an ancient sycamore tree, its trunk so thick that several people might not be able to encircle it. Its gnarled branches twisted and turned, blocking out the sky and the sun. Dark purple miasma slowly flowed through the gaps between the branches and leaves. On the thickest horizontal branch, a giant bird with a dark gold body was perched. Its wings were folded and pressed against its sides, and its sharp claws were as sharp as iron hooks, tightly gripping the cracked bark.
Its size was much larger than expected, with its wings folded to its sides, its wingspan probably five or six zhang wide when spread out. Its feathers were layered upon layered, each one gleaming with a cold, metallic sheen, its edges outlined with fine, dark fire patterns. Most striking were its nine tail feathers, which Entanglement in dark purple flames. These flames did not leap upwards like ordinary fire, but rather flowed slowly along the edges of the feathers like liquid purple light, their flickering light casting an eerie purple halo over the entire valley.
Netherworld Phoenix.
It was resting with its eyes closed, the Netherworld Fire around it flickering slightly, forcing the surrounding miasma back more than three feet.
Bibi Dong reached out and pressed Ning Buhui's shoulder, signaling him to remain still. She herself slowly released a trace of the pressure of a Titled Douluo —not a full-force burst, but rather like an invisible veil spreading out, silently sealing off the entire valley.
The Netherworld Phoenix suddenly opened its eyes.
Its eyes were a pure dark purple, without whites or pupils, like two bottomless amethysts. In an instant, it flapped its wings and stood up, its dark golden feathers bristling, Netherworld Fire on its tail feathers surged several feet, emitting a sharp and piercing screech.
It discovered the intruder.