The waves upon the Merciless Sea gradually subsided, yet the terror gripping every heart did not diminish by even the slightest measure. The Black Water Serpent's immense coils lay spread before them, looming there like a demon that had haunted the world since the ancient ages.
The massive serpent gave a slight tilt of its enormous head, as though it had not expected to encounter the presence of living beings down here in the Abyss of Dead Spirits. It lingered its gaze on the group for a moment, yet made no move.
Lu Xueqi, calm by nature, was the first to come to her senses. She turned her head and saw that Zhang Fan was still staring blankly upward at the Black Water Mystic Serpent, and she gently tugged at his sleeve. Zhang Fan gave a start and turned around. Lu Xueqi said quietly, "We should fall back."
Zhang Fan immediately came to his senses, nodding repeatedly as he supported Lu Xueqi and retreated. The masked woman standing to the rear beside Bi Yao caught sight of this from the corner of her eye and cried out involuntarily: "Don't move..."
Zhang Fan and Xueqi were both caught off guard, but in the very next instant, the Black Water Serpent's enormous eyes erupted with a blaze of green light — as though startled by something unseen. It let out a thunderous roar that shook the ground beneath their feet; every person present clamped their hands over their ears, yet still felt a relentless ringing echo through their skulls.
Zhang Fan was still reeling in shock when the Black Water Mystic Serpent's body suddenly stirred. Its massive tail, which had been submerged beneath the sea, swept outward in a single motion, and in an instant a wall of water rose up—several zhang tall and dozens of zhang wide—crashing down like a collapsing sky. Within the churning spray, the black serpent tail coiled through the torrent, driving boundless qi-force forward with unstoppable momentum.
The splash was still dozens of zhang away, yet the fierce wind had already slammed into him, nearly knocking him off his feet. If one were truly struck by that tsunami-like wall of water — let alone caught by the massive serpent's tail — there would surely be nothing left but shattered flesh and bone. Zhang Fan had no time to consider anything else; he swept his right arm around Xue Qi, summoned his fire-stoking staff, and flew backward with every ounce of his strength.
But the wall of water moved like the wind itself, swifter than any action he could take. Zhang Fan had not yet flown a single zhang before it caught him. The roar of water was like thunder, almost right at his ears. Every muscle in Zhang Fan's body went rigid, his mind nearly blank of all thought. In that moment between life and death, Zhang Fan let out a great cry and flew upward with every ounce of strength he possessed — yet he had barely risen more than a zhang from the ground when a bone-deep chill swept through his entire body.
*BOOM!*
He was swept helplessly into the towering waves, drenched from head to toe in an instant. He heard Lu Xueqi beside him cry out in alarm, her grip loosening — and beneath that overwhelming, unstoppable force, the two of them were torn apart.
Zhang Fan's face drained of color in alarm. He struggled desperately to push forward and grab Xueqi, but the wave's power was beyond reckoning — in a single instant, the two of them had already been swept dozens of zhang apart.
Before his eyes, the titanic waves crashed and surged with a thunderous roar. Lu Xueqi, who had been right beside him only a moment ago, vanished in an instant into the churning darkness. Zhang Fan's entire body trembled, his mind a churning chaos, as the great wave seized him and sent him tumbling forward through the crashing foam.
Just as the roar of the waves shook the air and Zhang Fan felt every inch of his body being crushed by a tremendous force, on the very verge of being torn apart, he suddenly caught a glimpse—amid the churning spray, where the thunderous crashing was fiercest, a dark shadow flashed, and the Black Water Serpent's colossal black tail came surging toward him like a mountain.
Wherever the black form swept past, water exploded outward in sheets; amid the chaos, sand and gravel went flying in every direction with a momentum beyond compare. Even if Zhang Fan had been beaten to death, he still would not have believed he could survive a direct hit from that enormous tail.
At that very instant between life and death, Zhang Fan rallied his remaining courage, and from somewhere deep within him a surge of strength welled up once more. Amid the crashing spray, a dark azure radiance rose again; Zhang Fan threw himself upon it and fled for his life, launching upward—and against all odds, he burst through the towering torrent, rising more than a zhang above the raging flood.
He was just feeling a surge of joy in his heart when suddenly he felt a torrential, unstoppable force sweep past from beneath him. His entire body shuddered in an instant — even though he had only been grazed by the aftershock, his vision went dark and he nearly lost consciousness. Had he not known that this was truly a matter of life and death, forcing himself to hold on and stay alert, he would have surely perished right then and there.
Even so, the force behind the Black Water Mysterious Snake's single tail sweep was nothing short of overwhelming. Zhang Fan's entire body shuddered violently, his bones screaming with pain as if on the verge of shattering, his whole frame threatening to be torn asunder. Caught within that surging torrent, he had not a shred of strength left to resist, and was sent hurtling far away by the monstrous force.
He was airborne, carried involuntarily straight toward the boundless darkness ahead. As his body tumbled, he looked downward, only to see the mountain-like waves and the enormous serpent's tail swallow Bi Yao and the others in an instant. The yellow-robed figures scattered in all directions, but were immediately struck down by the surging waves.
The green-robed woman shot upward into the air, her hands weaving through a series of gestures. A white radiance blazed to life—the white flower she held was raised before her, and in an instant it transformed into six wondrous blooms encircling the one at the center, each connected to it by streams of pure white light, the whole forming the shape of a luminous white wheel.
Bi Yao's face had gone deathly pale, yet her expression betrayed no trace of panic. The moment the white radiant wheel took shape, it spun upward with sudden force, its blinding brilliance rising to meet the roaring surge — and against all expectation, it held the great wave at bay. For one suspended instant in mid-air, the waters piled upon themselves like a looming mountain, their thunderous momentum verging on the terrifying.
Seizing that brief moment of respite, Biyao leaped skyward—but at that very instant, the clamor within the towering waves surged without warning, thunderous and deafening, as that enormous black serpent tail came sweeping in.
In an instant the white light wheel crumbled to dust, unable to hold for even a moment. Just as the young woman in the flower of her youth was about to be struck by that massive tail, suddenly, amid the churning spray, the masked woman appeared. The soft, pale-yellow round object in her hand flashed once through the air and, swift as lightning, darted ahead of the sweeping tail to catch Bi Yao from below.
Bi Yao barely managed to dodge the lethal object, yet the residual force still caught her — her whole body went weightless, and she drifted far away into the darkness behind her. In the next moment, the veiled woman's figure was once again swallowed by the surging, mountainous waves.
The sweeping force of the Black Water Mysterious Serpent's tail was of a might that defied all imagination. Zhang Fan hung suspended in midair, nothing but the howling roar of wind shrieking past his ears as his entire body was sent hurtling backward without end.
Should he suddenly slam into something—a sheer rock face, for instance—every bone in his body would surely be shattered to pieces. But knowing this was one thing; Zhang Fan could no longer control himself. His entire body moved beyond his will, and he had no choice but to surrender to fate.
Who would have thought the Abyss of Death was truly vast beyond all reckoning — after flying for quite some time, he had yet to encounter a single thing. Even Zhang Fan himself could feel his speed gradually slowing, and he was sinking lower and lower bit by bit; it seemed his remaining momentum was steadily fading away.
Though landing on the ground would certainly not be pleasant, coming away dusty and disheveled was still far better than crashing headlong into a wall. Zhang Fan was just feeling quietly pleased with himself when, all of a sudden, the darkness ahead seemed to congeal like a mountain, bearing straight down upon him.
A sheer cliff face, vast as a mountain, stretched across his path. Zhang Fan tucked his head down and curled his body in, then slammed into it with everything he had.
"Bang!"
Shards of stone flew in all directions and golden stars burst across his vision. Zhang Fan's entire body shuddered violently, and with a cry he spat out a mouthful of blood that splattered across the front of his robes. In that single moment, he felt as though his whole body had come apart — had it not been for the true arts of both the Daoist and Buddhist schools protecting him from within, he would have lost his life then and there.
Even so, he was in no better shape. His whole body came to a brief halt against the sheer cliff face, then slid downward helplessly. As he fell, he struck the hard stone wall several times in succession; each impact rang out with a dull thud, sending waves of agony through every inch of him. He had no idea how many bones he had broken—all he knew was that there was not a single uninjured part left in his body.
After falling like this for a while, following yet another impact, Zhang Fan tumbled outward. At that moment he had nearly abandoned all hope — yet in the midst of that spinning fall, by the faint glow emanating from the fire-poker at his chest, he dimly made out a dark shape not far below: what appeared to be an ancient tree growing from the face of the sheer cliff.
In that moment of crisis, it had never occurred to him that a tree could grow upon the unyielding stone walls of a death ground like the Death Spirit Abyss — yet on pure instinct, he reached out and seized hold of that ancient tree.
The wind howled and his descent grew faster still—yet in that split second, quick as a lightning flash, he caught hold of the ancient tree.
As his fingers made contact, there was none of the icy coldness of the cliff rock—instead, a faint warmth met his touch. But the force of his descent was immense; the old tree seemed barely rooted in place. Though Zhang Fan managed to seize the trunk, the tree shuddered violently, earth and stones raining down all around it. It swayed once, twice—then with a thunderous crack, tree and man plunged down together.
The moment he fell, Zhang Fan felt his heart drop — as if plunging into a bottomless abyss. Seized by sudden panic, his body continued its descent; yet the brief obstruction had slowed him somewhat. Then came a tremendous crash as he slammed heavily onto the ground, and he lost consciousness.
He had no idea how much time had passed. Zhang Fan stirred awake slowly, and before he even opened his eyes, searing pain flooded through his entire body—as though every bone had come apart. Yet where there was pain, there was still life, and that thought kept his heart from sinking entirely into despair.
He opened his eyes — and at what met his gaze, he couldn't help but freeze for a moment.
At this moment, he found himself in an enclosed and damp place—by the look of it, most likely a stone cave. The ceiling stood two men's heights above, yet the sides were only three feet wide, making it exceedingly narrow. The walls on both sides were of cold, hard stone, identical in appearance to the sheer cliff face from moments before. It seemed probable that this place was either within that very cliff or somewhere close by it.
However, the stones within the cave seemed to contain something luminous. Though none were particularly large, there were many of them, and one by one they shed a soft, gentle radiance that lit the entire cave quite brightly.
Zhang Fan carefully surveyed the interior of the cave. It appeared to be a passage of some kind: one end was choked with a jumble of rocks that completely sealed the way, while the other extended deeper inside, though it bent out of sight not far ahead, leaving whatever lay beyond impossible to discern.
He lay there in a daze for a moment, then moved to rise—but the instant his body stirred and his left hand pressed against the ground for support, a sudden, searing pain tore through him, wrenching an involuntary cry from his lips. His body shuddered violently, his left hand worst of all, the agony there almost unbearable.
A cold snort suddenly echoed from the depths of the cave. Zhang Fan startled and spun around, only to see a woman rounding the corner—draped in water-green robes, delicately beautiful. Who else could it be but that demoness of the Devil Sect?
The two of them had only just been locked in a standoff when Zhang Fan suddenly caught sight of this member of the demonic sect. On instinct he raised his fire poker, sharpening his focus into wary alertness—and for that moment he forgot entirely about the pain wracking his body.
To her surprise, the girl called Bi Yao shot him a sharp glare but showed no intention of striking. Her expression was strangely dejected, as though all the spirit had drained out of her. With an impatient air, she said: "Alright, alright — look at that foolish face of yours. You've got seven or eight broken bones all over your body, and you're still this lively!"
Zhang Fan furrowed his brow. Seeing that Bi Yao showed no intention of striking, he was puzzled but slowly set the fire poker down nonetheless. Yet the moment he relaxed, the pain came flooding back at once, and he could not help but cry out again.
Biyao caught sight of the righteous-path youth's comical grimace and couldn't help but burst out laughing — the tension in the air dissolved at once. Yet when the laughter faded, she let out a long sigh, tinged with a deep and sorrowful melancholy.
Zhang Fan let out a grunt. Stubborn by nature, he felt a sharp sting of humiliation at being laughed at by this young woman, and said with a flash of irritation: "What are you laughing at?"
Biyao glanced at him and laughed at you."
Zhang Fan, hearing her be so blunt without the slightest regard for his feelings, felt his anger flare even hotter. "What's so funny?" he snapped. "Try getting your chest bumped and see how you like it!"
Bi Yao's expression shifted. By her look, she was about to strike and teach this presumptuous girl a lesson — but the moment her hand stirred, all the fight drained out of her. She let out a sigh. "Neither of us has long to live. What's the point of quarreling with you?"
Zhang Fan was just about to raise his guard when he suddenly heard the woman utter such words. He couldn't help but be taken aback, and asked in surprise: "Milk what?"
Biyao shot him a glance. "There's a cave inside — can't you tell?"
Zhang Fan said: "So what? What of it?"
Bi Yao let out a cold snort and pointed toward the heap of tumbled rocks ahead. "That's the only exit — and right now it's buried under a mountain of stone. If you've got what it takes, go ahead and cleave your way out!"
Zhang Fan gaped and cast a glance at the jumble of rocks, only to find the cave entrance sealed solid by enormous boulders without a single crack left. He knew his own limits better than anyone: when it came to fighting enemies, his fire-stoking staff and his years of cultivation still counted for something—but playing the part of Yu Gong, hacking through mountains and turning up earth, was a task he was genuinely useless for.
After a moment, he suddenly thought of something important. He quickly turned his head — "I remember crashing into a sheer cliff and falling to the ground. How did I end up inside this cave?"
Biyao said lightly, "I was the one who dragged you in."
"What?" Zhang Fan was left speechless.
Bi Yao glanced at him, then her eyes landed on you lying unconscious not far away. Just then, that Black Water Mystic Serpent came charging after us again. I looked up and noticed that the old tree you had torn down was actually growing in front of a cave — with light glowing from inside, no less, and the entrance was narrow enough to hide in. So we slipped inside. Before leaving, I took pity on you and dragged you in as well. You fool!"
Zhang Fan furrowed his brows. "Why has this cave entrance been buried?"
Biyao shrugged, her face etched with resignation. "The Water Xuan Serpent couldn't get in, so in its fury it swept its tail and struck the sheer cliff — half the mountain came crashing down, burying this place, burying us all alive."
Zhang Fan stared at her for a long moment, half-convinced and half-skeptical: "Really?"
Anger flashed across Bi Yao's face. She grabbed a palm-sized stone and hurled it at him. "I deceived you? If I had known, it would have been better to let you die!"
Zhang Fan had no time to dodge and could only raise his hands to shield his head. The stone, however, struck squarely on his left hand. Pain shot straight to his core; his vision went black, and he nearly blacked out again.
From a distance, Biyao noticed Zhang Fan's face go suddenly pale, his left hand—struck by the stone—clutched tight as he grimaced in pain. Her heart gave a small jump, yet her voice came out cold: "Stop playing dead. Heh, I've seen plenty of people like you."
At this moment, Zhang Fan had no energy whatsoever to bother with her little "playing dead" act—he only felt as though he himself was truly on the verge of being killed by the pain, his entire hand having gone so numb it was beyond all sensation.
Bi Yao watched for a moment, and seeing that he did not seem to be putting on an act, stepped forward and came to Zhang Fan's side. She glanced at him twice, then, paying no mind to Zhang Fan's expression, reached out and pressed and kneaded his arm a few times.
Zhang Fan instantly broke out in a cold sweat from the pain, and roared furiously: "What the hell are you doing?!"
Bi Yao showed no anger; instead, a faint trace of apology crossed her face, her hand bones broken."
Zhang Fan let out a snort, but stubborn as he was, he said bluntly, "This was done by a Black Water Serpent—it has nothing to do with you, Grandma. Now go on, Grandma, leave me be."
Biyao gave him one more glance, let out a soft "heh," and — surprisingly — said nothing at all. She turned and walked away, taking up a position to the side, watching with cold eyes and every appearance of someone settling in to enjoy a good show.
Zhang Fan was in excruciating pain, yet no matter what, he could not lose face before this demoness. He forced himself to his feet and checked himself over, finding scrapes and bruises across his body—mostly superficial wounds, with only a broken bone in his left hand. All things considered, it was a blessing within misfortune.
Even so, the pain of broken bones was not easy to bear. Those few movements had disturbed his injuries, and cold sweat broke out once more.
Zhang Fan gritted his teeth. Drawing on the rudimentary healing arts he had learned atop Big Bamboo Peak of Qingyun Mountain, he had intended to splint his arm — yet search as he might, there was nothing around him but strangely jutting, misshapen rocks. Not a single straight length of wood was to be found, and he could not help falling into a deep, anxious fret.
Biyao, who had been standing to one side, suddenly spoke: "That staff of yours."
Zhang Fan started, then quickly caught on — the fire poker was a chi long, just the right size. He glanced at the young woman, ready to offer a word of thanks, but the look of contempt on her face made him swallow it back. He forced himself to say, "I already thought of that. It needs more milk."
Biyao pursed her lips. "What exactly are you searching all over the ground for?"
Zhang Fan said angrily, "Is it wrong for me to look for a way out? If I don't find one, are we really going to spend the rest of our lives trapped here?" At that point, he suddenly recalled something. His body gave a start, and he turned to Biyao. "Right—have you seen my fellow senior martial sister?"
Bi Yao looked at his anxious expression, froze for a moment, then shook her head. "At a time when everyone's life was at stake, who would have paid any attention to anyone else?"
Zhang Fan fell silent, his heart heavy with worry. Xueqi's poison had yet to be fully purged, and now she had suffered this calamity on top of it—he feared her life was in grave danger. At that thought, he let out a long sigh and lowered his head.
Biyao's expression softened. Watching the young man bow his head as he secured his injured arm to that unsightly fire stick, she found herself asking: "Are you very close with your Senior Sister?"
Zhang Fan started, shook his head, and said: "No, but she is after all my— why should I even tell you!" He gave a snort, and suddenly coming to his senses, Zhang Fan ignored her no more. He tore a strip from his clothing and used his mouth and right hand to bind his left hand firmly in place. Then he glanced again at the great heap of rubble piled at the cave entrance, and in the end let out a long sigh, turned, and walked back into the cave.
Watching Zhang Fan walk inside, Bi Yao couldn't help but ask: "Where are you going?"
Zhang Fan said as he walked, "I've already been buried alive in here — might as well see what's going on inside!"
Biyao let out a soft hmph, but somehow, in that deathly still cave, she followed along anyway—as though having another person beside her made the unease in her heart a little easier to bear.
Rounding the corner, Zhang Fan found himself facing a corridor much like the one he had just left, though somewhat wider. The stone walls on either side still bore their luminescence, casting the space in a fairly bright light — yet the dust underfoot lay thick, leaving clear footprints with every step he took.
In the middle of the path, a set of footprints led forward — they appeared to have been left by Bi Yao when she had entered to investigate just moments ago.
After walking for a while, the corridor reached its end — but ahead lay yet another bend, and from somewhere beyond came the faint murmur of water.
Just then, Biyao, who was walking behind him, suddenly called out: "Zhang Fan."
"What?" Zhang Fan answered on instinct, but immediately spun around—*how do you know my name?*
Bi Yao burst out laughing right here in Heyang City at me!"
Only then did Zhang Fan remember, his face flushing with embarrassment. He turned his head away and walked forward, saying at the same time, "Why would there be the sound of water up ahead?"
Bi Yao said with barely concealed irritation: "At the end of this passage there is a curtain of water falling down — beyond that there is simply no other way out. I never imagined I would actually die in a place like this."
Zhang Fan paid her no heed and walked on ahead. After a short while, the sound of water grew gradually louder, rushing and gurgling. Before long, he indeed saw at the far end of the passage a curtain of water cascading straight down from the cave ceiling, its spray scattering in all directions, crystalline and beautiful, finally falling into a pool at the passage's end. Were it not set in this desolate place, it would have made quite a scenic sight.
At that moment, however, no one could have been in any mood to appreciate the scenery. Zhang Fan walked up to the waterfall and examined it carefully, and his heart went cold.
Behind the waterfall was nothing but solid rock, no different from the stone lining either side of the passage. The pool was crystal clear, its bottom plainly visible, yet there was no sign of where the water drained away—most likely it seeped into the earth somewhere below. Above, the source of the dripping was merely the cave ceiling, a vast expanse of bare rock hung thick with water droplets that fell without cease. Where was there any way out?
Zhang Fan turned around, only to meet Bi Yao's gaze. The two exchanged a glance, and both fell silent.
Within the cave, a deathly silence suddenly fell.
Zhang Fan felt his mind thrown into utter chaos. Trapped in a desperate situation with no way out, and consumed with worry over the missing Xueqi, his heart was in complete turmoil. The wound on his left hand — whether from poor treatment or some other cause — sent wave after wave of pain crashing through him, leaving him in wretched misery.
Bi Yao watched his state, and for reasons she could not quite explain, felt a pang of reluctance stir in her heart. She said softly, "Sit down and rest for a bit first. We'll slowly think of a way out."
In this desperate place, Zhang Fan's hostility toward her seemed to have faded. In the outside world, he would naturally be at irreconcilable odds with this demoness of the Devil Sect — but here and now, with both of them on the verge of dying together, who had the luxury of caring about sectarian grudges?
Zhang Fan sat down in silence, staring blankly at his surroundings before finally turning his gaze toward the stone wall where water dripped to the ground. He thought to himself: *To think that my very first time descending the mountain would bring me so many setbacks—and now I find myself in a place of certain death. If Master were to find out, he would surely berate me again as a worthless disciple. And if Senior Sister Ling'er were to find out, I wonder if she would...* Biyao glanced over from beside him, and noticing that Zhang Fan's expression had suddenly turned rather odd, she couldn't help but ask, "What are you thinking about?"
Zhang Fan jerked awake, his face flushing red. Unwilling to tell the truth, he let his eyes dart around and hastily changed the subject. "There really are strange things everywhere in this Dead Spirit Abyss. Granny, look at the cave ceiling — there are several red patches on the rock face up there. The water droplets trickling over them make them look just like blood..."
Bi Yao suddenly leaped to her feet, her eyes wide, expression tense, and cried urgently: "You said *what*?"