Tens of thousands of skeletons and zombies surged forward like a tide, with Quinn Shepherd at their center, sweeping eastward and drowning everything in their path.
The Doomlands truly brimmed with all manner of uncanny entities—most born from the resentments or remnant souls of gods, demons, and slain cultivators. These beings, fused with the final divine arts unleashed in their dying moments, were often monstrously powerful and grotesquely bizarre.
That war had been so brutal that the gods, demons, and cultivators who died here unleashed every negative emotion as they fell. Divine and demonic blood mingled, giving rise to this warped land—and its inhabitants were all twisted in mind as well as form.
Along the way, Quinn saw all sorts of bizarre and uncanny abominations: meat-mountains fused from god and demon flesh, bone-centipedes with hundreds of heads, skeletal hands scuttling about, and monsters with dragon heads, horse bodies, long tails, and bones for skin.
Yet no matter how fearsome these inauspicious beings, faced with Marshal Lyle Wei’s Seven-Kill Star Lord army, they could only await death—swept aside by the jubilant tide of skeletons and zombies.
The vastness of the Doomlands defied imagination. Even at their rapid pace, it took Quinn and his undead escort more than two days to reach its eastern edge.
"Quinn, my young friend, go any farther and you’ll leave the Doomlands behind. We can only escort you this far."
Marshal Wei halted, cupped his fists, and saluted: "Farewell, then."
Quinn returned the salute. "Farewell. Once I reach Nether City, I’ll ask Lord Hades if there’s a way to find you all a proper resting place. Wait for my word." With that, he turned and departed.
Marshal Wei watched him go, then suddenly called out in a loud voice, "Quinn, you bear the Keane surname—what’s your relation to the Pioneer Emperor?"
Quinn glanced back and waved. "The Pioneer Emperor is my first ancestor!"
"No wonder, no wonder..."
Marshal Wei paused, then suddenly grew excited, shouting, "Boys, let’s go! We’ll conquer the Doomlands, rule its inauspiciousness, and await the Pioneer Emperor’s arrival!"
Countless skeletons and zombies followed his roar, charging deep into the demon-qi-filled heart of the Doomlands.
Quinn stepped out of the Doomlands and looked back. Within, terrifying tremors erupted—surely Marshal Wei’s legion attacking other inauspicious beings.
"Fighting fiercely even after death, white bones repaying their lord’s kindness. True heroes, every one!"
He continued east through the gloom, thinking that perhaps the Doomlands would become Marshal Wei’s domain—a territory right in the heart of demon lands, a hidden nail hammered into the demons’ side.
"Huh, I still remember those Netherworld words!"
Quinn blinked. The Netherworld Tongue in his mind hadn’t faded at all. Had the Doomlands’ uncanny influence stuck with him?
More than that, he could still see another Spirit Embryo Treasury gate, standing opposite his original one.
"So I’ve somehow mastered the Netherworld Tongue—this is getting strange..."
He once again assumed his Earth Star Lord form. The Gate of Bearing Heaven appeared, along with that ancient scroll. Quinn opened the scroll—not to recite aloud, but to silently memorize its Netherworld script, page by page.
Half an hour later, he had memorized every Netherworld word in the scroll. Only then did he relinquish his Earth Star Lord form, and the Gate of Bearing Heaven vanished behind him.
"I’ve only ever seen the Gate of Bearing Heaven once before—on that suspected Overlord Body statue beneath Nethergloom Ravine. But that statue didn’t hold a scroll. Of all the divine beings and cultivators I’ve observed, only when I manifest as Earth Star Lord does an ancient scripture appear in my hands."
Quinn pondered deeply. After a moment, he figured it out: "That Overlord Body statue beneath Nethergloom Ravine, and Victor Bloom, are both false Overlord Bodies—just like Virtual Blossom. Only a true Overlord Body naturally manifests such an ancient scripture! I’ll have to ask Village Chief about this later; he knows far more than I do."
Relieved to grasp this key, Quinn put the matter aside and resumed chanting Netherworld devil-speech from memory as he ran eastward, reciting the scroll’s contents under his breath.
Waves of demon qi surged in, pouring into the center of his brow and sending his demonic cultivation soaring.
This time, no corpses came back to life. That anomaly must have been caused by the scroll itself. Quinn relaxed—so long as he didn’t physically summon the scroll, chanting its Netherworld Tongue was a marvelous cultivation method, with no need to worry about disturbing the Netherworld or drawing the wrath of Underworld Couriers.
He raced on, drawing demon qi in his wake like a long, straight column of smoke—less like a cultivator, more like a great demon charging across the land.
Suddenly, he stopped chanting Netherworld devil-speech. Instead, he began to intone profound, obscure god-speech, using it to ram his demonic yuanqi against the unopened gate of his demonic Spirit Embryo Treasury. Instantly, strange Netherworld devil-sounds echoed in his mind, as if rising from the depths of the Nine Springs—eerie, unpredictable, interfering with his demonic yuanqi and trying to block the breakthrough.
The god-speech in his mouth was imbued with strange power, clashing fiercely with the sudden surge of devil-speech.
Back when Quinn first broke open his Spirit Embryo Treasury, a god-speech had seemed to descend from the nine heavens, interfering with his breakthrough. He’d only managed to force his way through by borrowing devil-speech and Buddha-speech, finally forging his spirit embryo.
That time, it was sheer luck.
Now, repeating the process, his mastery of god-speech far surpassed that earlier attempt. Using divine language to suppress the devil-speech rising from the Nine Springs, he opened a clear channel for his demonic yuanqi to batter the wall—smoothly and with full control.
Boom—
A thunderous crash erupted inside him as he blasted open his second Spirit Embryo Treasury. His demonic cultivation exploded; demon qi flooded in, and the devil-speech from the depths of the Nine Springs abruptly ceased.
"There’s no demonic spirit embryo in this treasury!"
Quinn was startled. His demonic Spirit Embryo Treasury was empty—just a single spiritual platform, etched with all sorts of strange demonic runes.
"Overlord Three-Core Art!"
Quinn activated the Overlord Three-Core Art. Demonic yuanqi surged within him, pouring into the demonic treasury. Suddenly, a flash of light—his spirit embryo appeared inside, seated on the platform, breathing in and out, absorbing demonic power.
The spirit embryo exhaled demonic yuanqi, weaving a demonic sun and demonic moon in the air.
"Village Chief really is remarkable! The Overlord Three-Core Art he taught me can even cultivate the demonic path!"
Quinn couldn’t help but be moved, deeply admiring Village Chief. "When will I ever have his breadth of vision and insight?" he thought silently.
The Overlord Three-Core Art and his Netherworld devil-speech worked in perfect harmony—one driving demonic yuanqi, the other guiding demon qi into his body. His demonic cultivation grew stronger and deeper by the moment. Soon, the demonic sun and moon within his treasury stabilized, mirroring the great sun and bright moon of his other Spirit Embryo Treasury, like a reflection in a darkened pool.
Once Quinn felt his cultivation was complete, he immediately attacked the Five Luminaries Treasury. With a thunderous boom, he broke open the demonic Five Luminaries Treasury—five demonic stars hanging overhead, shining with eerie, magical light.
Running the Overlord Three-Core Art became ever more intricate. Demonic yuanqi linked the five luminaries, circulating in strange patterns, and his demonic cultivation grew ever more profound.
"At this rate, in just a few days, my demonic cultivation will catch up to my divine path!"
There were still many demon experts searching for him in the demon lands, hunting in groups. Many saw Quinn from afar but paid him no mind—never suspecting that the one who looked even more like a demon than they did was the very Quinn Shepherd they were after.
Unhindered, Quinn pressed ever eastward for six or seven days. Suddenly, a point of light appeared in the sky.
He looked up and saw the light growing larger and brighter—a perfect, round sun rising in the sky, bringing daylight to the demon lands.
Quinn’s heart soared and he let out a long breath. "This sun is round, not flat! The Grandmaster really is extraordinary!"
He studied the sun’s rising position, measured the shadow on the ground, then dashed twenty more miles, recalculated the angle, and thought, "I’m still over ten thousand miles from where the sun rises. Bindra really has immense power—to have dragged me so far!"
The round, radiant sun in the sky made him feel as if the clouds had parted—a bright new day. His spirits lifted considerably.
Suddenly, a divine city appeared ahead, bustling with demons all around.
Teams of demonfolk searched every direction, stopping passersby for inspection. Quinn frowned and decided to skirt around the city.
Suddenly, hoofbeats thundered—a squad of demons galloped over, spotting him from afar and shouting, "Halt!"
Quinn stopped. The lead rider said, "Not him. Let’s go!" With that, they and their fellow demon cultivators sped away.
Quinn let out a sigh of relief. Just then, a familiar voice called out, "Hey kid, I need an attendant. Come here and be my attendant!"
Quinn paused, following the voice. Not far away stood a youth with a demon blade strapped to his back, waving at him—it was Zechariah Lee.
Quinn walked over. The hilt of Zechariah Lee’s demon blade suddenly opened its demon eye, spinning and glowing red, staring at Quinn in excitement. After a moment, the demon eye snapped shut.
Zechariah Lee strode ahead. "Keep up," he said.
Quinn followed him east, passing through the divine city. There were many demon enforcers checking travelers, wave after wave, but at the sight of Zechariah Lee, they let Quinn pass without question.
A hundred miles east of the city, Zechariah Lee stopped and said coolly, "Keep heading east."
Quinn did as instructed, but suddenly felt a gaze fall on him—like two blades piercing his body!
His muscles stiffened, then twitched twice, shattering the blade intent.
As the blade intent shattered, it even rang out with a crisp, metallic clang.
Zechariah Lee’s voice came from behind: "So it really is you."
Quinn dispersed the demon qi around him, turned and smiled. "Zechariah Lee, your swordsmanship has improved a lot."
Zechariah Lee’s eyes were like blades, forcing Quinn to shatter the blade intent. Clearly, since the battle at Departure City, his sword arts had advanced greatly!
"Brother Quinn, to escape from Mong City and cross the Doomlands alive is truly remarkable. Since our parting at Departure City, I studied your sword technique—the Cataclysm Sword Art. It really is powerful, but I’ve gained some insights of my own."
Zechariah Lee said coolly, "I won’t let anyone else kill you. If anyone does, it’ll be me! All the disciples of the demon gods in Grand Emperor Heaven are hunting for you—don’t die on the road."
"Thank you." Quinn bowed.
Zechariah Lee ignored the gesture and vanished in a flash.