204: Chapter 23 Nine Heavens Thunder Lord

The wind in Falling Eagle Ravine blew for three days and nights before mostly dispersing the smell of char, death, and the faint, fresh scent of air purified by lightning.

The cliff walls, plowed over by the "Nine Heavens Tribulation Light," were pitch-black and bare, like two massive chunks of charcoal scorched by heavenly fire, silently facing the bottomless abyss.

The debris shaken loose at the bottom of the ravine had piled into new mounds. Occasionally, a loose stone or two would roll down with a "gulu-gulu" sound, sending back a hollow echo that added to the desolation.

Chen Zilong lay for two whole days in a stone hollow at the bottom of the ravine, which he had hastily blasted out to serve as a makeshift windbreak.

He was like a ragdoll drained of all life; his face looked worse than a corpse's, and his breath was so faint it was almost imperceptible.

His meridians felt as if they had been trampled by ten thousand horses, the pain of every inch being fractured never ceasing. The golden Nascent Soul in his Dantian sat cross-legged with its head drooping, its light so dim it seemed it might go out at any moment.

Most critical was his Primordial Spirit, which was covered in spiderweb-like cracks. Even a slight thought caused him so much pain that his vision went dark and stars danced before his eyes.

If not for the life-saving pills he had instinctively shoved into his mouth before losing consciousness—their medicinal power protecting his heart's blood and the last bit of his Primordial Spirit's essence—and the resilient Buddhist foundation of the "Vajra Demon Subduing Scripture" keeping him hanging on, he might have truly rotted away silently in these wild mountains.

At noon on the third day, a faint sliver of sunlight struggled through the thick dust and fog at the mouth of the ravine, shining on his eyelids. Chen Zilong's eyelids flickered a few times, and with extreme difficulty, he opened a crack.

His vision was blurry and the world was spinning; it took a long time before he could finally focus.

He tried to move his fingers, and a piercing pain immediately shot from his fingertips to his shoulder, making him groan involuntarily.

"Still... alive..."

His throat was parched and smoking, his voice raspy like two pieces of sandpaper rubbing together.

This feeling was no better than when he was waiting for death in the Western Desolate Desert ten years ago.

No, it might be worse. Back then, only his physical body was on the verge of collapse; now, even the foundation of his Primordial Spirit had almost been ruined by his own "Nine Heavens Tribulation Light."

He didn't dare move recklessly and could only, like a snail moving house, use the faint trace of divine sense he could still barely operate to inspect his internal condition.

The situation...

Was terrible.

His spiritual power was nearly exhausted, his meridians were repairing slowly, and the injury to his Primordial Spirit was the most severe. Without specialized heavenly treasures to nourish the Primordial Spirit or a long period of quiet cultivation, he feared it would leave permanent damage, perhaps even affecting his future path.

"Damn... I overdid it..."

Chen Zilong cursed inwardly, but the corner of his mouth pulled into a grimace that looked worse than crying.

To take down a Nascent Soul Late Stage cultivator, and the Great Sect Master of a Xuan Yin Sect branch at that—this deal...

Didn't seem like too much of a loss?

At least, for a short time, no one should dare to bother him again, right?

That old monster Huang Chen only had his Primordial Spirit left to flee. Even if he succeeded in Possession and rebirth, he wouldn't dream of recovering his strength for at least a hundred years, let alone coming back for revenge.

He painfully shifted his eyes to look around.

The overlord cauldron had shrunk to the size of a fist and lay quietly by his hand, its surface dull and clearly heavily damaged.

The five thunders heavenly heart armor had automatically vanished, but he could feel that the armor's own spirituality had also taken a hit.

The only thing still intact was the Vajra Puppet, standing silently at the entrance of the stone hollow like an iron tower, guarding him.

This hunk of metal was certainly tough; besides a few more scratches on its surface, its crimson eye sockets still flickered alertly.

"This time... I really lost big."

Chen Zilong sighed and forced himself to calm down.

The priority now was to heal and regain some mobility as quickly as possible.

Falling Eagle Ravine was not a place to stay for long. Although remote, the commotion of the previous battle was too great; there was no guarantee it wouldn't attract curious or ill-intentioned individuals.

In his current state, even a Golden Core Cultivator could finish him off.

Enduring the intense pain, he slowly pulled things out of his storage ring.

Healing pills, spiritual liquids to nourish the Primordial Spirit, ointments and powders to repair meridians...

Fortunately, he had previously raided the Wang family and the Xuan Yin Sect branch's dens in Qingyan City, and had obtained some storage bags from Tian Yin and Huang Chen; the stock inside was quite plentiful.

Especially the Xuan Yin Sect—though their cultivation methods were sinister.

They had collected quite a few heavenly treasures, including many Yin-attribute spiritual items that were remarkably effective at stabilizing the Primordial Spirit.

He could use the "Heaven Swallowing Demonic Art" to carefully refine them, taking the essence and discarding the dregs to nourish himself.

For the next half month, Chen Zilong was like a heavily wounded beast, hiding in the stone hollow and licking his wounds.

He didn't dare use his full power, only cautiously guiding the medicinal strength to slowly repair his meridians and nourish his Primordial Spirit.

The process was slow and painful, but things were finally moving in a positive direction.

Some color gradually returned to his face, and his breathing stabilized. Although he was far from recovering his combat strength, he could at least barely stand and move around slowly.

While Chen Zilong was struggling to recover in Falling Eagle Ravine, tens of thousands of miles away.

Deep within the "Nine Nether Mountains," which were shrouded year-round in dark clouds as thick as ink and where the Xuan Yin Sect's main headquarters was located, a small storm was brewing.

Xuan Yin Sect Main Headquarters.

Mingsha Hall.

This hall was more than ten times larger than the one in the Heisha Mountain Branch Sect.

It was cast entirely from a black metal called "Nether Profound Iron," and it was bone-chillingly cold.

Pale green ghost fires burned year-round within the hall, casting flickering shadows across the vast space, creating an atmosphere so oppressive it was hard to breathe.

At the end of the hall, atop nine steps, there was not a seat but a massive, slowly rotating grey-black vortex, as if it were an entrance to the Nine Nether Hells.

In front of the vortex, suspended in the void, were three tall bone thrones.

Currently, the thrones on the left and right were empty, with only a figure sitting on the middle one.

This person was entirely shrouded in a wide, dark-gold cloak embroidered with writhing ghostly shadows. His face was hidden, and only two crimson, blood-like points of light could be seen beneath the hood.

He was one of the three Vice Sect Masters of the Xuan Yin Sect main headquarters, in charge of punishment and conquest—"Vice Sect Master Xue Ming."

Below him in the hall knelt an extremely dim, grey-white Primordial Spirit light that looked like it might dissipate at any moment. It was none other than Huang Chen, who had fled back to the headquarters with only his Primordial Spirit!

The current Huang Chen's Primordial Spirit had none of the composure and depth he displayed at Falling Eagle Ravine; only endless terror, weakness, and...

Malice remained.

"...And that is how it happened."

Huang Chen's Primordial Spirit's voice was weak and trembling as he reported in detail the destruction of the Qingyan City branch, the fall of the four "heaven and earth limitless" elders, his battle with Chen Zilong in Falling Eagle Ravine, and how his physical body was finally shattered by that bizarre "Nine Heavens Tribulation Light."

Naturally, he couldn't help but embellish the story, depicting Chen Zilong as even more arrogant and brutal.

Meanwhile, he portrayed himself as having "fought hard but failed," "losing narrowly to the opponent's sinister schemes and suspected ancient forbidden techniques."

The hall was deathly silent, save for the "crackle" of the ghost fires and the low hum of the massive vortex's slow rotation.

After a long time, Vice Sect Master Xue Ming's crimson gaze fell upon Huang Chen's Primordial Spirit like something physical. His voice was dry and cold, devoid of any emotion:

"Huang Chen, you have been in charge of the Heisha Mountain Branch Sect for centuries, yet you allowed the branch's foundation to be destroyed, the four guardian elders to be lost, and even your own physical body to be shattered... Do you plead guilty?"

Huang Chen's Primordial Spirit trembled violently and he hurriedly touched his head to the ground:

"This subordinate... this subordinate pleads guilty!"

"This subordinate was incompetent and failed the sect's nurturing!"

"But that Chen Zilong..."

"Is truly bizarre!"

"His cultivation methods seem to fuse the three paths of Dao, Demon, and Buddha. His lightning techniques possess earth-shattering power, and he can even trigger the 'Nine Heavens Tribulation Light,' which is close to the power of a Heavenly Tribulation!"

"This subordinate suspects..."

"He very likely obtained some kind of ancient lightning dao inheritance, or perhaps..."

"It is related to the long-missing 'Nine Heavens Thunder Venerable'!"

"If this child is not eliminated, he will surely become a major threat to our Xuan Yin Sect!"