Chapter 256 — The Spirit Tablet

At that moment, the group over there—who looked somewhat like a patrol detail of Nether King Sect disciples—also noticed the two standing here, and all turned and walked toward them. Daoist Cangyan went to meet them and called out in a clear voice, "I am Cangsong. What has happened here?"

Jin Pingyue said nothing. She cast a deep look at the distant red blood-shadow that draped over the abyss like a dome of light, then silently followed behind Daoist Cangyan, her brows tightly knit, watching the approaching Nether King Sect disciples.

The two sides drew near. Those several dozen men were indeed disciples of the Nether King Sect. Their leader nodded to Cangsong and bowed slightly—yet for some reason his movements seemed somewhat stiff—and said, "Greetings... uh... Daoist..."

Daoist Cangyan frowned. The Nether King Sect disciple's manner of speech was rather odd, halting and jerky, and matched with his somewhat rigid movements, he seemed like a wooden puppet. Who knew where this man had been transferred from, to be so utterly unpresentable.

But just now Daoist Cangyan could not be bothered with such trifles. He said directly, "Where is the Nether King? We have matters to report to him."

The Nether King Sect disciple still wore that wooden expression, slowly turned and pointed deep into the red glow, and said, "The Sect Master... uh... is inside... uh... has been waiting for you a long time... uh."

Daoist Cangyan was thoroughly impatient. Listening to this man speak a single sentence truly cost one enormous effort. He waved his hand and said, "Enough. Lead the way."

The Nether King Sect disciple nodded, turned, and walked off, saying slowly, "Yes... uh!"

The party set off again toward the abyss. Daoist Cangyan had originally wanted to ask what this sudden tremendous upheaval was all about, but the few exchanges just now had completely exhausted his patience. Questioning such a wooden Nether King Sect disciple was sheer torment—better to ask the Nether King directly later.

Jin Pingyue followed behind them, walking slowly, her gaze quietly fixed on the Nether King Sect disciples around her. At first glance they seemed no different from ordinary people apart from slightly stiff movements, with nothing strange about them at all—yet the inexplicable vigilance in Jin Pingyue's eyes only grew heavier.

As they gradually drew nearer the abyss and closer to the red blood-radiance, Jin Pingyue suddenly noticed that a faint red was slowly emerging in the eyes of the Nether King Sect disciples walking beside her, like dark crimson blood. And the movements of all of them as they walked were no longer stiff—they were slowly becoming light and brisk.

It was as though that blood-red glow had given them some kind of power.

Closer and closer to that uncanny red dome of light—barely two zhang away now—when a sudden unease swept through Daoist Cangyan's heart. Yet he could not put into words what this abrupt feeling was about. Just then, a soft cry came from behind him. They all turned, and saw Jin Pingyue, who had been perfectly fine a moment ago, suddenly sitting on the ground, clutching her chest, gasping and coughing loudly, her face ashen—a picture of great distress.

Daoist Cangyan was startled. "What is it?"

Jin Pingyue gasped a few breaths, shook her head with a bitter smile, and said, "It is an old ailment of mine. Sometimes it comes on like this—a sudden stabbing pain in my chest that lasts nearly half an hour before it passes, and then I am as right as rain. It has not troubled me for years; I never thought it would flare up again today."

Daoist Cangyan was taken aback for a moment. "Then what will you... do now?"

Jin Pingyue looked utterly weary and said in a low voice, "I will be fine. A little rest and I will recover. How about this: you go on ahead and report to the Nether King; I will follow shortly."

Daoist Cangyan frowned, pondered a moment, then nodded. "That is the only way, then. Rest well yourself."

Jin Pingyue smiled weakly. "Thank you, Daoist."

Daoist Cangyan gave a grunt, turned, and walked on ahead. Jin Pingyue's sudden interruption had made him forget the unease he had felt moments before. Behind him, however, the several dozen Nether King Sect disciples seemed to fall into some small confusion—it appeared that though their bodies were no longer stiff, their minds were still far from sharp. Their red-glowing eyes swept this way and that, and in the end most of them followed Daoist Cangyan onward, leaving only two standing beside Jin Pingyue.

Jin Pingyue sat on the ground, coughing and gasping, and watched the great crowd escort Daoist Cangyan into that expanse of blood-red glow. After that, there was no sound at all.

Her head slowly drooped, and her breathing slowly grew rapid again—but the gaze she kept hidden downward suddenly became incomparably clear and bright. Daoist Cangyan did not know that, not long before, in that valley, behind the woods upstream of the brook, Jin Pingyue had seen the corpses of Nether King Sect disciples—and the manner of their deaths was something she would never forget.

Because she had seen it long ago, with her own eyes, in that great catastrophe of beast-demons that had swept across the world.

And now, the blood-red glimmer faintly showing in the eyes of these Nether King Sect disciples beside her was almost exactly like that of those maddened beast-demons of years past. Though she did not know why, and though these Nether King Sect disciples had not gone berserk as the beast-demons had, Jin Pingyue had already resolved in her heart that she must never enter that red glow.

Inside it was something terrible.

This was her intuition.

Jin Pingyue's gasping grew louder and louder, yet the two Nether King Sect disciples standing beside her seemed utterly indifferent, as though numb to all around them. But a moment later, a strange noise suddenly came from behind them—like a stone striking the ground. Jin Pingyue happened to be facing the direction of the sound, and her expression changed drastically. She stood up and cried out in alarm, "What—you came too?"

Both Nether King Sect disciples were startled. Seeing Jin Pingyue so astonished, they could not help turning to look—but when they turned, they saw only emptiness behind them. Nothing at all—not a shadow of a person, not even a shadow of a stone. It was as if they had seen a ghost. Utterly baffled, they turned back to question Jin Pingyue—but in turning, they found that Jin Pingyue, who had been standing behind them, had vanished as well, as though she had never appeared in this place at all, leaving only a stretch of empty ground.

The two Nether King Sect disciples were greatly alarmed and stared at each other. Then they began shouting—but the sounds they made were not like human voices at all; they were more like the roars of wild beasts. After circling twice on the spot, the two turned and charged into the red blood-radiance.

In the distance, Jin Pingyue slowly emerged from behind a large boulder. That escape had looked simple, but she had in truth spent every ounce of her cunning and cultivation on it. Only now did she slowly let out a breath—and only now did she realize that her brow was covered in cold sweat.

But before she could relax, suddenly, from deep within the red glow, came a cry of extreme agony—it was Daoist Cangyan's voice. Jin Pingyue's whole body shook, and she immediately shrank back behind the boulder to hide. Daoist Cangyan's cry, though shrill, quickly weakened and died away, and what rose in its place was a rumbling, mad laughter—a sound full of insanity, as though all things in this world would be trampled beneath his feet. Even the mountains trembled, and the echoes rolled like thunder.

Jin Pingyue's face was pale, and her body actually began to tremble slightly. Though the voice had altered somewhat, she recognized it clearly—it was the Nether King's laughter.