Yun Che stared at the choice thrown before him by the dried corpse man, his thoughts racing.

  The temptation of the Nine Nether Samsara Codex was overwhelming. Yet the corpse wraith’s warning glance, coupled with the terrifying might of that earlier palm strike, filled him with a deep sense of unease. This ancient existence was by no means benevolent—any所谓“sharing the inheritance” was more likely poison wrapped in honey.

  Just as Yun Che hesitated—

  The corpse wraith suddenly let out a shrill, piercing scream!

  Nine yellowed talismans pasted across its body ignited simultaneously in blue-gray flames. In an instant, it transformed into a streak of blue light and lunged straight toward Yun Che! Ignoring the lingering spatial rifts around it, the wraith forcibly tore open a gap, seized Yun Che, and dragged him toward the base of the statue below!

  The dried corpse man snorted coldly.

  “Stubborn fool.”

  He raised a hand and pressed down. A massive palm woven from violet-black lightning reappeared, slamming down from above!

  This time, however, the phantom of the Nine Nether Venerable standing atop the statue suddenly solidified by several degrees. The broken spear in its hand lifted and thrust upward—

  Clang!!!

  A deafening clash of metal rang out! At the point where spear tip met palm seal, blinding light erupted. The violent shockwave hurled Yun Che and the corpse wraith away, smashing them heavily against the statue’s base.

  At the instant of impact, the corpse wraith hastily formed an ancient hand seal and pressed it against a relief carved into the statue’s pedestal.

  Click…

  The relief sank inward. A narrow slit—barely wide enough for one person—silently opened in the pedestal, from which an幽蓝 glow spilled forth.

  Without hesitation, the corpse wraith dragged the unsteady Yun Che and plunged straight into the gap!

  “Seeking death!”

  Violet-black lightning flared wildly in the dried corpse man’s eyes as his body transformed into a bolt of lightning, diving downward!

  Yet the Nine Nether Venerable’s phantom swept its spear sideways like a roaming dragon, forcing him to halt mid-charge.

  In that brief delay, the slit in the statue’s base had already sealed shut.

  The dried corpse man stared at the pedestal, now restored as if nothing had happened, his expression dark as storm clouds. Slowly, he raised his hand, violet-black lightning serpents writhing madly between his fingers.

  “A mere remnant of will dares block me? Today, I’ll refine even this statue itself!”

  …

  Inside the statue.

  Yun Che steadied himself. His divine sense spread instantly, taking in his surroundings.

  This was a sealed space roughly thirty meters across. The four walls were not solid, but flowing curtains of Spectral Azure Ice Arrows light. Countless ancient runes flickered upon them, radiating an incomparably pure Nine Nether cold force.

  At the center of the space floated a crystal core the size of a fist. Within it sat a cross-legged, illusory figure—an elderly man with gaunt features and white hair and beard. His appearance bore a seven-tenths resemblance to the statue outside.

  Surrounding the crystal core floated dozens of “memory ice crystals” of varying sizes, each sealing a fragment of moving imagery.

  Upon entering, the corpse wraith immediately prostrated itself, repeatedly kowtowing toward the elderly phantom within the crystal, emitting pitiful, garbled cries as if begging forgiveness.

  The elderly phantom slowly opened his eyes. His gaze first fell upon the corpse wraith, flickering with complicated emotion, before turning to Yun Che.

  “Young friend, there is no need to be nervous,”

  his voice echoed directly within Yun Che’s sea of consciousness, gentle yet exhausted.

  “I am Wu Ming, the three hundred seventy-second Transmission Elder of the Nine Nether Sect. The one outside… was once my natal puppet general, ‘Nine Nether.’”

  Yun Che did not lower his guard. The Blood-Fiend Sword hovered before him, its tip faintly aimed at the crystal core.

  “Why did senior bring me here?”

  Wu Ming’s phantom smiled bitterly.

  “It was not I who led you—it was Ah Mei acting on its own.”

  He glanced at the corpse wraith, sighing softly.

  “Ah Mei was originally my physical body. Three hundred years ago, I failed while attempting to break through to the mid-Nascent Soul stage here. My body was eroded by Nine Nether cold force and mutated, unexpectedly giving birth to intelligence, becoming a ‘Cold Corpse Wraith.’ My Nascent Soul was gravely wounded, leaving me no choice but to seal myself within this ‘Nine Nether Soul Crystal’ and cling to life.”

  Yun Che’s gaze swept over the light curtains.

  “This statue…”

  “This is the Nine Nether Sect’s Inheritance Altar,” Wu Ming explained.

  “Back then, I fled here with part of the sect’s inheritance, hoping to heal myself using the ‘Heaven-Tier Cold Vein’ beneath this place and to find a suitable successor. Unfortunately…”

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  He paused.

  “My puppet general ‘Nine Nether’ was corrupted by an ‘Ancient Nether Will’ deep within the cold vein while guarding me. It betrayed me, turned on its master, and grievously wounded me.”

  Yun Che’s heart stirred.

  “The one outside—is that puppet turned traitor?”

  “Yes, and no.” Wu Ming shook his head.

  “The puppet’s original consciousness has been erased. What now controls that body is the Ancient Will itself. It calls itself ‘Minghai.’ It seeks to devour my Nascent Soul, completely seize the Nine Nether puppet body, and claim the Nine Nether Samsara Codex sealed within this altar.”

  A dull booming suddenly echoed from outside. The entire space trembled violently. The runes on the light curtains flickered rapidly, as though enduring tremendous strain.

  Ah Mei anxiously pointed outside, then at the crystal core, gesturing frantically.

  Wu Ming’s expression grew solemn.

  “Minghai is forcibly attacking the altar’s defenses. This Nine Nether Venerable Statue is a sect treasure, imbued with the protective will of successive sect masters. But after three hundred years of consumption, very little remains… at most, it can hold for half an hour.”

  He looked at Yun Che earnestly.

  “Young friend, since you can cultivate the Nine Nether Cold Prison Art, you are fated with the Nine Nether Sect. Your cold force is exceptionally pure, already touching the threshold of the extreme realm, and you have just formed dual cores… you are the most suitable candidate to inherit the Nine Nether Samsara Codex.”

  Yun Che fell silent, then asked suddenly,

  “Why doesn’t senior cultivate it himself? As a Transmission Elder, you should possess the complete art.”

  Wu Ming’s phantom revealed a bitter smile.

  “My Nascent Soul is shattered; my foundation is ruined. There is no hope for further advancement in this life. The Nine Nether Samsara Codex is the sect’s supreme inheritance—it requires the ‘Nine Nether Netherbody’ as its foundation. My body is gone, my Nascent Soul crippled… I am no longer qualified.”

  He raised a hand. A beam of Spectral Glow shot from the crystal core and sank into Yun Che’s brow.

  Yun Che did not resist—for within that light was no malice, only information.

  Nine Nether Samsara Codex · General Outline

  “Nine Nether is the extreme of the netherworld, the beginning of samsara.

  One who cultivates this art must forge the Nine Nether Netherbody, open nine yin apertures, and condense the Nine Nether Samsara Core…

  On the day the core is formed, one may glimpse reincarnation, grasp life and death, and commune with the netherworld.”

  The information cut off abruptly—clearly only a fragment.

  Yet even this fleeting glimpse caused Yun Che’s mind to quake violently. This technique… directly pointed to the Dao of Samsara itself! Far beyond the Nine Nether Cold Prison Art!

  Wu Ming continued,

  “The Nine Nether Samsara Codex has nine volumes. The complete inheritance is sealed within the altar’s core. If you are willing to help me, I can open the inheritance for you. In exchange…”

  He looked at Ah Mei.

  “Please take Ah Mei away from here. Though it is a Cold Corpse Wraith, it retains a trace of my former goodwill. It should not perish here.”

  Ah Mei shook its head frantically, pointing at the crystal core and crying out. There was even a glimmer of tears in its eyes—an emotion rarely possible for a corpse wraith.

  Yun Che’s gaze shifted between the crystal core and Ah Mei. Suddenly, he asked,

  “Senior said Minghai must devour your Nascent Soul to fully control the puppet body?”

  “Yes,” Wu Ming nodded.

  “The Nine Nether puppet is bound to me by a natal contract. Though it has been seized, the bond remains. Only by consuming my Nascent Soul can it sever the last connection and gain true freedom.”

  “Then,” Yun Che said slowly,

  “why didn’t it attack earlier? Why wait until the altar was activated?”

  Wu Ming froze.

  Yun Che stared at him.

  “Or rather… what restriction does this altar place on it? Or more precisely… what restriction does it place on a Nascent Soul body?”

  The space fell deathly silent.

  Outside, the bombardment grew increasingly violent. Runes shattered one by one across the light curtains.

  After a long pause, Wu Ming let out a deep sigh.

  “Young friend is sharp indeed… correct. This altar does restrain Nascent Soul bodies. If Minghai were to force its way in, it would need to corrupt the altar core with nether intent—a dangerous process. The simplest method…”

  He looked at Yun Che, his gaze complicated.

  “…is to have a living person below the Nascent Soul realm open the altar seal from within.”

  A flash of cold light crossed Yun Che’s eyes.

  “So from the very beginning, Ah Mei bringing me here was part of your arrangement? The inheritance, saving Ah Mei… all bait to make me willingly open the seal?”

  Ah Mei jerked its head up, shaking violently. It pointed at Wu Ming, then outside, desperately gesturing “danger” and “leave quickly.”

  Wu Ming smiled bitterly.

  “Ah Mei truly did not know. Its mind is simple—it only knew I was trapped and sought help. As for the inheritance, I did not lie. If you open the seal, I will immediately pass you the first three volumes of the true codex. As for the remaining six…”

  He gestured toward the floating memory ice crystals.

  “You must reach the corresponding cultivation realms and personally break their seals.”

  Yun Che sneered.

  “And if I refuse?”

  “Half an hour later, the altar will fall and Minghai will enter,” Wu Ming said calmly.

  “My Nascent Soul will be devoured, the inheritance seized, and Ah Mei will surely die. As for you…”

  He paused.

  “You possess Nine Nether cold force and are alive—you are the vessel Minghai desires most.”

  He added quietly,

  “Though Minghai is an ancient will, it has weakened without a physical body. It urgently needs a vessel compatible with nether power… and you—cultivator of the Nine Nether Cold Prison Art, dual cores newly formed, extreme realm within reach—are its ideal dwelling.”

  Yun Che fell into silence.

  The bombardment outside now roared like thunder. Nearly half the runes on the light curtains had shattered. The space shook violently; the Spectral Azure

  crystal core flickered unstably.

  Ah Mei tugged anxiously at Yun Che’s sleeve, then pointed desperately at an inconspicuous memory ice crystal beside the core.

  Yun Che followed its gesture—and saw within the crystal a scene: Wu Ming injecting a faint light into Ah Mei’s brow, Ah Mei falling asleep, then being sent out of the altar…

  “This is…?” Yun Che looked at Wu Ming.

  Wu Ming appeared startled, then relieved.

  “Ah Mei still remembers… that was my final arrangement three hundred years ago. If things became impossible, it would be sent away.”

  Softly, he said,

  “Young friend, time is short. I can swear a Nine Nether Oath—if you open the seal, I will transmit the first three volumes of the true codex and ensure Ah Mei’s safe departure. As for my Nascent Soul…”

  He smiled faintly.

  “It is already broken. If it can delay Minghai and buy you time to escape, that will be a worthy end.”

  Yun Che stared at him and suddenly asked,

  “One final question: why didn’t you detonate your Nascent Soul and perish together with Minghai?”

  Wu Ming was silent for a long time.

  Finally, he sighed faintly.

  “Because… I owe the Nine Nether Sect an inheritance. Three hundred years ago, what I carried out was not only the Nine Nether Samsara Codex, but also the sect’s final ‘spark.’ I cannot let them… be buried here.”

  He raised his hand. The crystal core blazed with light!

  All the memory ice crystals trembled at once. One shattered with a loud crack, revealing a jade slip the size of a palm, glowing with幽蓝 light.

  Three ancient seal characters surfaced upon it—

  Samsara Volume · Upper

  “This is the first volume of the true codex,” Wu Ming’s phantom said, his aura rapidly weakening.

  “Young friend… the choice is yours.”

  Wu Ming’s cold, calculated choice for the sect’s final legacy,

  or Ah Mei’s clumsy yet genuine devotion?

  Nine Nether Samsara Codex,

  is opening the altar an act of acceptance—or the first step into a deeper trap?

  If it were you… would you open it, or walk away?