117: Chapter 117 The Demise of the Vampire Clan, Ice and Fire Cannot Coexist

Su Bai's brow furrowed slightly as he pondered in his heart.

The power of the human race was the weakest in the entire Netherworld Yang world, yet the Power Of Faith they produced was the greatest.

The Rakshasa Clan, also a branch of humanity, was second only to the humans.

Although Su Bai had always maintained a policy of governing through inaction toward the Yang world, he was unwilling to see the human and Rakshasa races disappear.

Furthermore, the Blood Ancestor's strength far exceeded that of the other races; it wouldn't be long before he likely unified the entire Yang world.

This was not what Su Bai wanted to see; he wanted to see a Netherworld Yang world with a balance of multiple races.

Thinking of this, Su Bai glanced at Meng Po, who was currently brewing soup.

Meng Po understood immediately, set down her ladle, and left the Netherworld Yin world, preparing to intervene in the Netherworld Yang world.

On the other side.

Just as Wangxiang City was on the verge of falling, the sky cracked open.

A gray-white light descended from the rift, and within the light, a hunched figure slowly stepped out.

It was Meng Po.

She was still wearing that coarse gray robe, her graying hair tied in a simple bun, her face aged and kind. In her hands, she held a bowl of soup.

It was Meng Po Soup.

Meng Po looked at the hundred-zhang-tall Blood God; there was no fear or anger in her ancient eyes, only an eternal, unchanging calm.

"Blood God..." she said softly, her voice hoarse and gentle, "You've gone a bit too far, haven't you?"

She gently tilted the bowl.

The soup in the bowl turned into a thin stream, pouring down from the sky. That stream meandered through the void like a gray-white snake, passing through the blood flames, the blood light, and the Blood God's body, landing on the altar in the Blood Sea Abyss.

The Blood God's body suddenly stiffened.

Those blood droplets, condensed from the life essence of the Blood Clan, began to dissipate the moment they touched the Meng Po Soup. It wasn't evaporation or decomposition, but forgetting.

Every drop of blood carried the memories of a Blood Clan member. Before the Meng Po Soup, those memories collapsed instantly, like sandcastles before a tsunami.

The Blood God's body began to shrink. From a hundred zhang to eighty, from eighty to sixty, and from sixty to forty. Its roars grew weaker, its blood flames grew dimmer, and its aura plummeted all the way from the peak of Rank 6 to high Rank 6, mid Rank 6, and then early Rank 6.

Six hundred and fifty thousand Blood Clan members felt that power of forgetting at the same time.

Their memories began to slip away. They forgot their own names, their identities, and their blood magic. Their bodies began to disintegrate, regressing from Blood Clan members into ordinary blood, evaporating from ordinary blood into gas, and dissipating from gas into the Yin Qi.

Arcadius stood on the altar, his blood-red eyes filled with despair.

"No... no! Blood God! Blood God, you can't..."

He did not finish his sentence, for the thin stream of Meng Po Soup had already fallen upon him.

He forgot who he was.

He forgot the Blood Clan, forgot the Blood Ancestor, and forgot the ritual to summon the Blood God.

He forgot everything.

Arcadius's body turned into a pool of blood, the blood evaporated into gas, and the gas dissipated into the Yin Qi.

The Blood God let out a final mournful wail as its body completely collapsed. Countless blood droplets scattered from the sky, falling into the Blood Sea Abyss and merging into that sea of blood eroded by Yin Qi.

The last legacy of the Blood Sea Realm, six hundred and fifty thousand Blood Clan members, completely perished before a single bowl of Meng Po's soup.

The Blood Clan was extinct.

Meng Po stood at the edge of the Blood Sea Abyss, watching the sea of blood that was now calming down, a trace of pity flashing in her ancient eyes.

"Living by blood, powered by blood," she said softly. "Unfortunately, blood also has memories. Blood that has forgotten its memories is no longer the Blood Clan."

She turned around, her hunched figure disappearing into the gray-white Yin Qi.

On that day, all the races of the Netherworld World remembered Meng Po's name.

Not because she was powerful, but because she was merciful.

Her mercy was to let her enemies forget their hatred, forget their obsessions, and forget who they were.

To die cleanly.

At the same time, the entire Netherworld Yang world understood that humans were a race that must absolutely not be touched; one could only befriend them, not make enemies of them.

Otherwise, they would all follow in the footsteps of the Blood Clan.

Thirty years after the extinction of the Blood Clan.

The conflict between the Ash Elves and the Ice Crystal Race among the nine major races finally erupted.

The Ash Elves were descendants of a fire elemental civilization. Their bodies were condensed from ash and flame, their skin was dark red and covered in cracks, with orange-red magma flowing within those cracks. Their eyes were burning coals, their hair was drifting smoke and dust, and their breath carried a scorching heat.

Nine hundred thousand Ash Elves were settled on the Ash Scorched Earth. That land was formed from the residual energy of the Ashen Realm; dark red ash covered every inch of the ground, and the air was thick with the smell of sulfur and coke.

To the Ash Elves, this was their home. But to the Ice Crystal Race, this was hell.

The Ice Crystal Race was the incarnation of extreme cold. Their bodies were condensed from pure Ice Crystals, their skin was a transparent ice-blue that shimmered with a faint, cold light in the Yin Qi. Their breath could freeze the air, their touch could solidify blood, and their very existence was a symbol of extreme cold.

One hundred and fifty thousand members of the Ice Crystal Race lived on the Extreme Cold Ice Plains. That ice plain was shaped by the original Yin Qi of the Netherworld World and the Extreme Cold Domain of the Ice Crystal Race, with temperatures constantly remaining a hundred degrees below zero.

The Ash Scorched Earth and the Extreme Cold Ice Plains were separated only by a Gray River formed by condensed Yin Qi.

In the thirty-first year, a volcano erupted on the Ash Scorched Earth.

That was no ordinary volcanic eruption, but the Ash Elves' "Forge Ritual."

Every ten years, the strongest warrior among the Ash Elves would jump into the volcano's crater, using their own life to ignite the underground magma and inject new energy into the Ash Scorched Earth. This was a tradition passed down for countless years by the Ash Elves, the fundamental basis for the continuation of their civilization.

But this time, the magma spewed from the volcano crossed that Gray River and landed on the Extreme Cold Ice Plains.

The orange-red magma collided with the ice-blue plains, erupting with a deafening roar. Steam rose, the ice cracked, and vast stretches of the ice plains melted under the scorching of the magma, turning into murky puddles.

The Ice Crystal Race was enraged.

The Frost King personally led thirty thousand Ice Crystal warriors across the Gray River and onto the Ash Scorched Earth. Their Extreme Cold Domain unfolded over the Ash Scorched Earth; frost covered the dark red ashes, freezing the flowing magma and trapping the nine hundred thousand Ash Elves within ice-sealed volcanoes.

"You have crossed the line." The Frost King hovered above the Ash Scorched Earth, his silver eyes looking down at those ice-sealed volcanoes. "The Extreme Cold Ice Plains are the territory of the Ice Crystal Race. Your magma has destroyed 30 li of our plains."

The elder of the Ash Elves stepped out from the largest volcano. His name was Jin, the most powerful existence among the Ash Elves, at the peak of Rank 5. His body was twice as large as an ordinary Ash Elf, golden magma flowed through the cracks in his skin, and his eyes were two orbs of white fire.

"Crossed the line?" Jin's voice sounded like crackling burning wood. "The Forge Ritual is the foundation of our survival as Ash Elves. We cannot control the volcanic eruptions. I regret that your ice plains were destroyed, but that was not our intention."

"Not your intention?" The Frost King's voice was as cold as iron. "Your magma destroyed our home, and then you tell us it was 'not your intention'?"

He raised his hand, and his Extreme Cold Domain condensed into an ice blade in his palm.

"Ash Elves, either retreat south of the Gray River, or die."

In Jin's eyes, the white flames flared up fiercely.

"Retreat?" His voice became low. "The Ash Scorched Earth is our only home. Where would you have us retreat to? Retreat into the Yin Qi? Retreat into the void?"

He raised his hand, and magma surged from beneath the ground, condensing into a flaming longsword in his palm.

"Ice Crystal Race, either withdraw your Extreme Cold Domain, or fight."

The Frost King did not answer. He simply swung the ice blade in his hand.

War broke out.