Chapter 258: Blood River
Chapter 258: Blood River
Cheng Lingyu halted. The Fang Tian Bao Yin flew from his left palm, hovering overhead as countless beams of light formed a powerful defense against the blood energy’s assault.
Hu Yuer frowned. “What’s this treasure? I’ve never heard of it.”
Xiao Lingfeng, Han Zhen, and the other three gaped at the Fang Tian Bao Yin. Though clueless about its origins, they marveled at its power.
Protected by the artifact, Cheng Lingyu pressed forward. Though the blood energy’s weapon projections couldn’t pierce his defense, their shockwaves battered him relentlessly, slowing his progress to a crawl.
Near the blood river, evil energy howled like flesh-rending winds. Cheng Lingyu strained until he froze three zhang from the river’s edge.
“My Realm remains too low,” he muttered bitterly. Despite his fearsome combat power, his cultivation level lagged far behind others.
Broken spirit artifacts occasionally surfaced in the churning blood like silvery fish, vanishing as quickly as they appeared.
Cheng Lingyu tried summoning one, but his energy tendrils disintegrated instantly beyond the artifact’s protective glow.
After long consideration, he tried again – this time unleashing a cave heaven. From it emerged a palace etched with crescent patterns: the Yin Lock Immortal Palace, Weapon Soul of the Ten Immortal Souls.
The palace shuddered violently under the blood energy’s assault yet held firm, drifting toward the river. As a Weapon Soul, it possessed innate power to bind spirit artifacts.
Cheng Lingyu aimed to harvest the river’s treasures – intact artifacts for himself, broken ones to feed the Ghostly Magic Blade and break its third seal.
The endless blood river teemed with restless souls forming monstrous faces – Blood Souls fused from corpses, bones, and artifacts that could rival Immortal Souls.
Weaker Soul Martial Realm cultivators would perish instantly here.
Guiding the trembling palace, Cheng Lingyu retrieved five broken artifacts before recalling his Weapon Soul. The pieces proved to be degraded exceptional-grade spirit artifacts, now barely high-grade and dripping with lethal blood energy.
Combining Destruction of Space Divine Thought Wave with Dreamy Magic Eyes, Cheng Lingyu analyzed the energy.
“Creating a Soul Domain Avatar requires a sturdy soul vessel. Most use five elements energy to fuse Immortal Souls, but that foundation only holds two Immortals and seven martial souls – useless for me.”
At Soul Martial Sixth Realm’s Soul Domain stage, Cheng Lingyu faced his inevitable next challenge. With Ten Cave Heavens and Ten Immortal Souls, forging his unique Golden Body Avatar would be a hundredfold harder than normal.
The blood river’s energy – fused from Spirit Master Level corpses and exceptional-grade artifacts (maybe even Holy Artifacts) – sparked an audacious idea. This corrosive mix of power could be key to his unprecedented cultivation path.
What would happen if one could extract the Essence of the blood river and refine the Soul Domain Avatar?
Cheng Lingyu pondered this. He’d witnessed the river’s horrors firsthand, yet knew the more dreadful a force, the greater its Power when merged through cultivation.
Hu Yuer, Xiao Lingfeng, Han Zhen, and others stared anxiously at Cheng Lingyu’s silhouette, baffled by his sudden stillness.
Cheng Lingyu felt their gazes carrying thoughts and emotions—something he couldn’t perceive before unless meeting eyes directly. But after grasping the basics of the Destruction of Space Divine Thought Wave, even with his back turned, he now sensed their mental fluctuations. A strange yet fascinating ability.
Retrieving the Fang Tian Bao Yin, he returned to Hu Yuer’s side. “This eerie blood river warrants caution. Let’s follow it downstream while scouting for other cultivators.”
No one objected. The six kept a safe distance from the blood-red waters as they moved.
The valley held no Life—no plants, no animals, not even a speck of green. Gray skies loomed over barren mountains, suffocating the land in silence.
The river raged like a massive crimson serpent, its waves crashing violently. Cheng Lingyu studied it intently, analyzing its origins.
Hu Yuer’s mesmerizing eyes narrowed. “Others flee this river, yet you’re fascinated. What schemes brew in that mind?”
“Aren’t you here for schemes of your own?” he countered.
She huffed. “I accompany you out of respect. Others beg for my company and are refused.”
“Then I should praise your taste in heroes,” he teased.
“My taste rarely falters,” she sniffed. “Any errors reflect poorly on you.”
“So my praise was wasted,” he sighed.
“Not wasted,” she chuckled. “I still chose you, didn’t I?”
Xiao Lingfeng and Han Zhen exchanged baffled glances during this verbal sparring, unable to decipher the pair’s relationship. Cheng Lingyu shot Hu Yuer an exasperated but amused look. Her banter made the journey less dreary—Life needed such lively contrasts.
Descending further, they crossed a peak into another valley where movement flickered.
“People ahead,” Xiao Lingfeng announced, taking point. Han Zhen guarded Cheng Lingyu’s flank while Zuo Yi watched their rear.
Hu Yuer frowned. “Strange. Our detection waves couldn’t penetrate that mountain’s barrier.”
“This river’s length complicates matters,” Cheng Lingyu mused. “Not knowing our location breeds uncertainty.”
“Those ahead might have answers,” Han Zhen suggested cautiously—prudent advice for their small, modestly skilled group.
Xiao Lingfeng sent Chen Song to scout. The valley sprawled wide, cliffs flanking the mist-shrouded river where blood energy pulsed.
Cheng Lingyu sensed Blood Martial Realm experts ahead—their vital forces cutting through the blood mist. Chen Song soon returned, confirming: “Over a dozen from Tianhua City’s Zhan Wumen, all Blood Martial Realm.”
“What draws them?” Hu Yuer asked.
“A magical artifact emerged from the river,” Chen Song reported. “They struggle to claim it.”
Xiao Lingfeng grimaced. “Plucking treasures from this river’s maw won’t be simple.”
“Their strength?” Cheng Lingyu pressed.
“Fifteen or sixteen. Highest around Blood Martial Third Level,” Chen Song estimated.
Hu Yuer nodded. “In these ancient ruins, few surpass Blood Martial Fifth Level except the Three Saints and Four Peerless. Even the Red Feather Spirit Master’s disciples rarely reach fifth level before thirty-five without being unparalleled geniuses.”
“Elder Brother Xiao’s at fifth level,” Zuo Yi noted. “Unless they match him, numbers won’t matter.”
“Let’s greet them,” Cheng Lingyu said, a faint smile touching his lips as memories surfaced—Luo Binghe’s sword striking him down at Guishun Valley when he’d merely been True Martial Realm. That humiliation still burned.