Chapter Three: The Black-Armored Demon Scorpion

It may seem mystical, but in reality, it is merely the collision of yin and yang; there is nothing remarkable about it. Zhang Xiao leaped onto his skateboard, a wave of his sleeve conjuring a breeze that propelled him across the Styx. The Styx, stretching a thousand miles, was in truth a river of Nine-Nether Netherfire. This puzzled Zhang Xiao; the Nine-Nether Netherfire was a top-tier demonic flame within the path of magic. Why would such a vast expanse of it exist here, and who possessed the power to summon so much of it?

Riding his skateboard, Zhang Xiao contemplated these questions as he traveled along the river. "Roar!" Just as he was about to reach the bank, a shrill cry erupted. Zhang Xiao’s expression shifted, and he instantly unleashed the Heavenly Demon Phantom. Twelve afterimages flickered as he leaped onto the shore with swift and clean precision.

But no sooner had he landed than twelve spears struck exactly where his shadows had been, piercing through them. Had he not been so fast, he would surely have been wounded. With a sweep of his divine sense, he immediately identified the attacker: a massive scorpion, its spears being the stingers on its tail. A sharp glint flashed in Zhang Xiao’s eyes. He dissolved into a shadow and surged toward the creature. Sensing the approaching aura, the giant scorpion panicked, firing a volley of pitch-black stingers from its tail. However, the Heavenly Demon Phantom rendered Zhang Xiao’s form into a series of uncanny shadows, making the stingers useless.

Zhang Xiao opened his mouth, and the Heavenly Yang Sword shot out like a white rainbow, transforming into a silver beam that pierced through the surrounding trees and struck the scorpion’s carapace. While this beast’s strength was equal to that of a cultivator in the early Nascent Soul stage—an opponent that even an average mid-stage Nascent Soul expert without a supreme magic treasure could not defeat—Zhang Xiao was no ordinary person. Although his cultivation was only at the mid-Nascent Soul stage, his true power rivaled that of the early Spirit Refinement stage. Compared to the elites and sect leaders of the nine great sects, whose cultivation speed was slower than his, the so-called late-stage Nascent Soul experts were nothing but motley scum in his eyes.

Even with the vast resources of their sects, they could never compare to someone like him, who had forged his own strength through every tribulation. The Heavenly Yang Sword sliced through the giant scorpion like a blade through tofu, severing it in two. Simultaneously, the intense pure-yang sword energy incinerated the carcass to ash. After retrieving his sword, Zhang Xiao checked the sheepskin map.

Once his direction was confirmed, he set off, sneering to himself, "Hmph! Using me as a vanguard? Your plans are well-calculated, but even the best plans cannot keep up with my changes. If you can keep up, perhaps I’ll leave you some scraps." With that, he vanished, speeding toward the location marked on the map.

Meanwhile, in the city-state of Radel, a group of people rode their exclusive mounts through the bustling streets, knocking aside pedestrians who could not dodge in time. While such injuries were trivial after the Great Change, being struck down while walking peacefully was unpleasant for anyone. However, upon seeing the black robes of the riders, the onlookers' expressions changed, and they knelt in haste, filled with trepidation. Only the devout followers of Anubis, the god of death, wore such robes. In the Ramesside Empire, the underworld was far more popular than heaven, and the god of death held far more prestige and deterrent power than any angel.

The party raced out of the city gate, heading north toward the Styx. "Priest Kama, are we not arriving a bit too late?" It was true; while it was not yet dark, night was approaching, and the hour was indeed late.

But Kama, seated on his mount, laughed. "Rest assured. The ferry to the land of the dead only appears on the Styx at night when the moon rises high. Otherwise, even if he had wings, he could not cross." Hearing Kama’s confident tone, the others eased their worries and rode on in silence.

Zhang Xiao, however, encountered trouble. A swarm of giant scorpions emerged from their burrows, eyeing him menacingly, their stingers poised. Behind them stood a massive, pitch-black palace, as seamless as if carved from a single great stone. The entrance was a gate carved with a three-headed hellhound. This was, without a doubt, the palace of Anubis, containing the Water of Rebirth needed to mend the soul. With it, Ziyan could be saved.

"Whoosh! Whoosh!" The sound of air being torn apart pulled Zhang Xiao back to reality. Unflustered, he unleashed the Heavenly Yang Sword. "Boom!" The intense pure-yang sword energy transformed into a silver dragon, sweeping through the swarm and turning the stingers into wisps of green smoke. "You ant-like creatures dare to block my path?"

Zhang Xiao roared, shifting like lightning through the scorpions. Every strike of his sword claimed a life. There was no blood, no screams—only slaughter. In a few breaths, half the swarm lay dead. The Heavenly Yang Sword glowed with such intense energy that its form was obscured in silver light; any scorpion touched by it was incinerated into smoke, vanishing from the world.

"Roar!" Realizing his might, the scorpions bellowed as if calling for reinforcements. Zhang Xiao redoubled his efforts, his blade and free hand carving out silver, peony-like sword auras that filled the beasts with terror.

As he cut through the swarm, the ground began to tremble. A dense, almost tangible demonic aura emerged. Zhang Xiao grew vigilant. He had never seen such potent energy. Suddenly, a massive scorpion claw burst through the soil, lunging at him.

"Boom!" Zhang Xiao dodged a hundred meters away as the earth heaved and overturned. A colossal scorpion, as large as a small building, crawled out. Compared to this monster, the scorpions he had just slain were merely toys. Its pitch-black, mirror-like carapace made it look like a masterpiece of black crystal.

Zhang Xiao’s expression grew grave. This was a beast of at least the early Spirit Refinement stage. Although his own strength rivaled that level, there was still a gap. Even with his Profound Turtle Transformation, his odds were no better than fifty-fifty. Under normal circumstances, he would have fled, but for Ziyan’s sake, he had no choice but to fight.

Scales erupted across his skin. Unlike before, since his fall from Buddhism into the demonic path, these scales were now pitch-black, wreathed in serpent-like demonic energy. A black halo appeared behind his head—the once-golden wheel of wisdom now entangled with malevolent darkness, radiating an aura of utter destruction. Amidst the swirling demonic energy, Zhang Xiao stood like a Demon Lord risen from the depths of hell.