Immortal and Martial Dual Cultivation Chapter 2377 Epilogue 2 : Son of the Flood Dragon Humans, Part Two
Previously on Immortal and Martial Dual Cultivation...
In the Central Great Realm stretched a vast river. Upon the surface, it bore names like the Raging River at times, or the Heavenly River, or even the Icy River.
Myriad powerful nations and sects arose along its banks. Eternal dynasties flourished there as well.
Boundless lifeforce and Luck flowed from it. Only the top factions of the Central Great Realm could claim territories beside this river.
Different regions on the surface bestowed various names upon this river.
Yet, as it plunged into the Abyssal Underworld, a single name echoed through all nine layers. Every race knew it as the Underworld River.
All the sin and resentment from the Great Thousand Realms gathered in the Underworld River, linking the nine layers of the Abyssal Underworld. The deeper it delved, the thicker the resentment and sin became.
By the time it arrived at the ninth layer of the Abyssal Underworld, not even Sovereign Emperors dared traverse it with ease.
Finally, it poured into an endless blood sea.
This endless blood sea had lingered since the Martial Epoch's dawn, absorbing the world's sin and resentment. Darkness shrouded everything here, swarming with evil spirits.
Over one thousand years, ten thousand years, a hundred thousand years, even millions of years of buildup, the immense resentment and sin birthed the dreaded Asura Hell, whose mere name struck terror into the hearts of the Abyssal Underworld's denizens.
The Asura Hell!
Across every layer of the Abyssal Underworld, the mention of Asura Hell sent shivers through all who heard it.
The ultimate horror in the Abyssal Underworld was to have one's cultivation crippled before exile into the Asura Hell.
Such brutality evoked bone-chilling dread. It perfectly captured a fate worse than death itself.
Yet, genuine experts confronted their terrors head-on, shattering them to emerge as the new source of fear.
Though a forbidden zone in the Abyssal Underworld, the Asura Hell served as a trial ground for true powerhouses.
Legends whispered that survivors emerging from the Asura Hell's far side would rise as mighty experts, forged by endless near-death ordeals.
This tale had long spurred the daring warriors of the Abyssal Underworld onward.
Still, only a handful ever made it through. Those who lived to describe the blood sea's opposite shore could be tallied on one hand.
Vast numbers of cultivators venturing into the Asura Hell for trials perished in the blood sea, morphing into vengeful spirits ensnared by sin, forever merging into that endless expanse. Scant few beheld the wonders beyond the blood sea or the Asura Hell's terminus.
On this fateful day, at the Asura Hell's farthest edge, two gravely injured young men sprawled on the ground, laughing wildly.
“Hahahaha! Yan Cangming, we've escaped alive! We're out! Truly out!”
The young man on the left sported a shaved head, faint monastic scars still visible. He was the Buddhist sect renegade, Zhen Yuan.
The companion was none other than the Flood Dragon Humans’ young master, Yan Cangming.
Strangers at first, they crossed paths amid the endless blood sea. Initial encounters brimmed with suspicion and caution.
But the Asura Hell offered eternal gloom without sunlight, haunted by roaming malicious spirits.
Together they braved life-and-death struggles, slaying foes en route. Bonds formed only after repeated mutual rescues.
Once they bared all truths to each other, Yan Cangming fell silent for ages. He never imagined... that Zhen Yuan had inherited the Black Dragon King’s karma.
Yan Cangming had teetered on death's edge in the Asura Hell when Zhen Yuan burst forth to save him.
Before, every attempt by Yan Cangming to cross the endless blood sea ended in failure midway.
This time, however, they journeyed side by side, surviving countless deadly perils to finally breach the endless blood sea and arrive at the Asura Hell's conclusion.
It seemed almost predestined. The heavens pitied the Flood Dragon Human's endless torment, granting Yan Cangming an encounter with Zhen Yuan within the Asura Hell.
“Yan Cangming, may I pose a question? These past years, you've repeatedly plunged into the Asura Hell for life-and-death trials, flirting with death time and again. Why endure such grueling existence?” Zhen Yuan murmured, gazing skyward after the wild laughter faded.
Far more exhausting than this was groveling beneath the other Abyssal Underworld races.
Zhen Yuan understood that truth but held his tongue.
“Why?”
Gazing upon the pitch-black sky, a flicker of grief surfaced on Yan Cangming's resolute visage. He whispered, “I don’t know why. I only know that the Flood Dragon Humans cannot continue living like this.
“What about you? Why did you betray the Buddhist sect?”
Zhen Yuan fell silent at those words. Then, a hazy white silhouette materialized in his thoughts, gradually sharpening to reveal Xiao Chen’s face.
A surge of uncontrollable killing intent flared in his heart right away, prompting him to banish the image. Rising to his feet, he shifted the subject. “Who would have thought such stunning blooms exist at the fringes of the Asura Hell.
Yan Cangming lifted his gaze and spotted a path stretching ahead beneath the gloomy heavens.
Scarlet blossoms lined both sides of the path, their soft crimson radiance lending them a lively, alluring sway in the breeze.
Prior to arriving here, Yan Cangming could never have envisioned that the vast blood sea, steeped in eons of sin and grudge, would nurture such heartrending flowers.
“Come on, let’s proceed. I’m eager to witness the vista at this shoreline’s end.”
Eagerness and thrill sparked in Zhen Yuan’s eyes; he was itching to advance.
As the pair wandered along the broad, shadowy road, the undulating, heart-wrenching, blood-hued Paramita Flowers appeared to halt time itself.
No one could tell how long they traveled—it seemed like a full year, yet merely a moment. Abruptly, a brilliant glow erupted ahead, sharp and blinding.
Once the radiance faded, the landscape before them transformed entirely.
Zhen Yuan lowered his shielding hand from his eyes, peering through narrowed lids. His face twisted in shock moments later.
In the distance, Zhen Yuan beheld a Buddha statue, one depicting Kāśyapa that he had never encountered before.
The statue radiated solemn majesty, its face impassive and detached.
It regarded all worldly things as mere insects, devoid of the typical compassion and mercy.
“This... this is Spirit Vulture Mountain!”
Zhen Yuan scanned the environs and recognized the familiar landmarks. He swiftly realized they stood in Spirit Vulture Mountain.
Zhen Yuan’s thoughts blanked out. Acceptance eluded him, leaving an overwhelming sense of oppression.
Now, conviction struck him: he faced the true Kāśyapa Buddha.
This defied the sutras Zhen Yuan recited daily and the Buddhist Cultivation Techniques he practiced—utterly inverted.
Even more astonishing, the Buddhist sect’s sacred ground, Spirit Vulture Mountain, which he coveted in his dreams, presented itself in this form.
The far shore beyond the Asura Hell’s endless blood sea turned out to be Spirit Vulture Mountain.
Yan Cangming stayed composed. Glancing back, he noted they lingered at the base of a dark mountain.
Towering Demonic Qi loomed over the ebony peak.
Myriad Demonic Dao fruits sprouted amid the roadside thickets.
Some even ripened over ten thousand years, possessing priceless worth.
Delight flooded Yan Cangming instantly. He murmured, “Zhen Yuan, we’ve arrived at the perfect spot! This has to be the Demonic Dao’s sacred peak. What a fortune!”
“This is Spirit Vulture Mountain. We need to depart at once. Otherwise, escape might prove impossible.”
Zhen Yuan regained his poise, dousing Yan Cangming’s elation with cold reality.
“Spirit Vulture Mountain?”
Yan Cangming’s brows furrowed faintly. Startlement hit him next. That signified they were deep in Hidden Spirit Temple domain.
Disaster!
Both men’s faces paled simultaneously. A formidable presence swept across them, igniting terror.
Staying longer was untenable.
“Let’s go!”
The duo shared a glance before their forms blurred, fleeing in unison.
---
“Young Master! Young Master!”
Shouts of “Young Master” echoed through the ninth layer of the Abyssal Underworld, snapping Yan Cangming from his memories to the present.
Yan Cangming occupied a elevated vantage, overseeing hordes of Flood Dragon Humans below as they shifted in clusters.
After interring Zhen Yuan within Profound Light Temple, Yan Cangming had hurried back to the Abyssal Underworld, rallying every Flood Dragon Human scattered across it.
The Black Dragon King’s demise stripped Yan Cangming of his strongest ally in the Underworld God Hall.
Chaos gripped the entire Abyssal Underworld now. Various factions schemed to exploit the Faux Gods’ downfall, aiming to revive the Underworld God Hall and claim dominion over the Abyssal Underworld.
Against the other deeply entrenched Abyssal Underworld races with vast legacies, the Flood Dragon Humans drifted like rootless weeds.
The Flood Dragon Humans stood no chance in resistance. Survival in retreat remained uncertain.
“Young Master.” The Flood Dragon Human cultivator next to Yan Cangming spoke in haste, “Clansmen handling the rear sent a message. King Luohou rallied the nine great races of the Abyssal Underworld and launched pursuit. We’ve lost touch with the scout ahead...I fear...our whole Flood Dragon Human Race faces encirclement.”
Yan Cangming kept his face serene as he answered gently, “I know. Stay calm. You can pull back first.”
King Luohou? The fresh King Luohou who claimed the ancient Demonic Sovereign’s inheritance and got rescued by Xiao Chen?
Fierce murderous intent surged across Yan Cangming’s harsh visage at once. He had chosen retreat, abandoning the fight for rule over the Abyssal Underworld. Yet this brash young King Luohou aimed to wipe them out completely, offering no shred of mercy.