Chapter Nine: Azure Skies and the Underworld (Part One)

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Azure Vault and Nether Abyss

“You’ve got to be kidding, Three-Eyes—are you playing tricks on us?” Hu Hai glared at Raksha, his tone full of indignation.

Raksha had volunteered to lead Shi Jun and his group to find the Ancestor of the Nether Abyss. The three men hurried after her, with Lanpo in tow, retracing their journey from the Land of Reincarnation back to the River of the Underworld. They wandered in circles for quite some time before Raksha finally mumbled under her breath that she actually had no idea where the place was, leaving the others utterly dumbfounded.

“I swear I’m not!” Raksha protested, aggrieved. “I did hear my godfather mention once that the Ancestor resides in the Nether Azure Vault, somewhere within the River of the Underworld. But… ordinary people can’t find it…”

“Then what’s the difference between saying that and saying nothing at all?” Modo sighed. He didn’t particularly care whether or not they met this so-called Ancestor; he was still unsettled after nearly perishing in the river not long ago. Although, for some reason, they had not encountered any further attacks from the blue phantoms or the deadly currents, he remained uneasy and longed to leave as soon as possible.

Shi Jun silently communicated with Lanpo, asking whether such a place existed in the River of the Underworld and, if so, how it might be found.

After a moment’s silence, the blue spirits replied that the Ancestor of the Nether Abyss did indeed reside within the river. However, this so-called Nether Azure Vault was a separate dimension created by the Ancestor’s supreme power and protected by a formidable barrier. Unless the Ancestor himself permitted entry, no one could find it—not even the blue spirits knew how to open the gate to this space.

Just when they had found a thread of a clue, it was severed once more. Was this truly destiny? Shi Jun felt deeply frustrated—for if so, then what was the point of their perilous journey through the underworld? He refused to give up and urged the blue spirits to continue searching, while he meticulously combed every nook and cranny himself, hoping for even the faintest sign.

Modo, who detested the River of the Underworld, was tempted to leave on his own but, seeing the grave expressions on Shi Jun and Hu Hai’s faces, felt too embarrassed to voice his intentions. Instead, he attempted to lighten the mood. “You know, in our Demon Realm, there are plenty of reclusive masters—those eccentric elders with profound cultivation. They don’t like outsiders and are virtually unknown, rarely seen. They’re much like this so-called Ancestor, always sealing themselves away behind barriers as if everyone’s desperate to dig them up. But there are ways to find people like that. I just don’t know if the tricks work in the underworld…”

Shi Jun and Hu Hai perked up at once and asked in unison, “What way? Tell us!”

Only Raksha snorted dismissively, “What could you possibly know? I don’t believe it!”

Ignoring her, Modo continued, “I’m proof that it works! Once, I snuck down from the mountain and wandered into the far north of our realm, to the remote Vast Mountains. I was just hoping to catch a few fire serpents, but then—” He broke off, eyes wide as he pointed ahead and shouted, “We’re done for!”

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“That’s the end of the story?” Shi Jun and Hu Hai, bewildered, followed Modo’s gaze—and recoiled in shock. A massive, dark current had silently crept up beside them.

Before Shi Jun could react, a thick green tendril shot out from the current, spinning rapidly as it reached toward them. In a flash, a gigantic crystalline flower bud blossomed from the vine, its petals unfurling with a delicate crackle, radiating a dazzling brilliance. The beauty was hypnotic, leaving them all momentarily stunned.

“What’s happening?” Hu Hai cried out in terror, about to ask Raksha, when suddenly two tendrils whipped out from the heart of the crystal flower, snaking toward the small boat where Shi Jun and Hu Hai sat. In the blink of an eye, the tendrils had wrapped them tightly, drawing them back effortlessly. The crystal petals swiftly closed, enveloping them entirely.

Seeing Shi Jun attacked, the blue spirits instantly transformed into ribbons of azure light, darting in after them and plunging into the flower just before it shut. The crystal bud, guided by the green vine, then retreated into the swirling current.

“Ah!” Modo, perched on the blue spirit’s boat, suddenly lost his support as they rushed away and plummeted straight down, not even having time to recite a flying spell. But just as he began to fall, a firm grip seized his collar—it was Raksha, quick as lightning, who snatched him from the air.

Raksha, bewildered by the sudden turn of events, was about to chase the green vine when the current churned and then vanished into thin air right before their eyes.

“What happened? Where did Brother Lanpo go?” Raksha blurted out.

“If you don’t know, how would I?” Modo replied, still shaken, eyes darting about nervously. “This is too bizarre…”

The two exchanged glances, at a loss for what to do next.

* * *

Shi Jun and Hu Hai were plunged into darkness, the wind howling past their ears as the tendrils bound them tightly. Even within the flower bud, they could sense the vine speeding through the current, heading for some distant destination, filling them with dread.

Hu Hai wanted to ask Shi Jun if he had any idea what was going on, but as soon as he opened his mouth, the fierce wind stole his breath, forcing him to clench his eyes shut and endure in silence.

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Shi Jun was equally perplexed. Hadn’t they made peace with these currents during their last encounter in the river? Why would they attack now? And he’d never seen a current manifesting strange tendrils like this before. If only he’d been more cautious. What puzzled him most was why his underworld token hadn’t protected them with a barrier, as it had before. Could this be linked to the nature of this peculiar current?

He and Hu Hai were swept along, powerless against the relentless force. Who knew how long they were carried forward—until, at last, the wind began to subside. Shi Jun finally managed to open his eyes and peer into the gloom.

It was still pitch black. He and Hu Hai were bound together by thick green tendrils, sliding forward inexorably. As their speed slowed, a faint sound of zither music came from ahead. Shi Jun tried to listen more closely, but it faded instantly, impossible to discern.

Still puzzled, Shi Jun heard Hu Hai’s voice: “Hey, Old Shi, did you hear something just now?” His tone was low, almost conspiratorial, as if afraid of being overheard.

“You too?” Shi Jun replied, relieved to know he hadn’t imagined it.

“I think someone’s here—otherwise…” Hu Hai’s words echoed in the darkness, making him fall silent before finishing his sentence.

Shi Jun was also anxious, but seeing how frightened Hu Hai looked, he deliberately laughed aloud. “Ha! Can’t you keep your mouth away from my face when you talk? Your breath is killing me.”

“As if I want to be so close! If my girlfriend saw us in this compromising position, she’d question my orientation!” Hu Hai, coaxed into laughter, bantered back, “And you haven’t washed your hair in at least three days. You dare criticize my breath?”

Shi Jun couldn’t help but laugh as well. “This is manly, you know? Washing your hair every day saps your strength!”

“Yeah, right!” Hu Hai responded in a low, joking voice. “I bet that weird sound was made by some thousand-year monster, who, upon witnessing my unparalleled talent, decided to take me as a disciple. You’re just lucky to be along for the ride!”