Chen Weichen looked at the pond again.

There was a vague attraction in the center of the pond, beckoning him over.

Perhaps it wasn't just the pond.

The entire Xingluo Abyss resounded with a faint clamor, rising and falling like waves.

--Come back, come back.

Lightning flashed, tearing through the thick night.

The sound of rustling clothes and footsteps lightly rose behind him. The Demon Emperor's voice carried a smile, with a hint of low hoarseness: "A guest from afar, I have yet to ask, who are you--are you even human?"

Young Master Chen thought his own pretentious and mysterious ways were already at their peak, but today he encountered someone who was his equal.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, his fingertips slid lightly across the sword's edge, the slow motion carrying a murderous air.

"In twenty years, you are the twenty-third person who wanted to kill me, and the first to reach the mountain peak." The Demon Emperor looked at the sky. "Unfortunately, you're still not the one I'm waiting for."

Chen Weichen's smile was extremely faint. "No need to wait long, it must be lonely."

"Yes," the Demon Emperor sighed. "I sensed someone coming up the mountain and thought the person I was waiting for had finally arrived."

--He had disappointed him.

Chen Weichen did not reply. The sword light in his hand flashed, spinning into a cold sword flower, and in the blink of an eye pressed close to the Demon Emperor's neck.

The Demon Emperor was not surprised. In his hand was a jet-black long flute. In an instant, he raised it to block, his figure shifting mysteriously, borrowing force like ripples on water to leap back a few steps, the flute playing a melody brimming with killing intent.

The surrounding energy was stirred and surged by the music. When it reached Chen Weichen, it was an assault on the ears.

Chen Weichen did as Ye Jiuya had done that day, tapping his sword with his fingers, the clear sword chime carrying a cold clarity, cutting across the flute's sound.

Just then, dazzling white lightning flashed in the sky, illuminating the Demon Emperor's face. The corner of his mouth lifted in a thoroughly wicked smile. "A person of the demon path, yet wielding a demon-slaying sword. I underestimated you, brother."

With that, his figure in the deep purple robe leapt high, using the flute as a sword, attacking Chen Weichen like a slithering snake.

He used a flute. If Chen Weichen had countered with a fan, it would have been an elegant affair. However, Young Master Chen's cultivation was actually shallow, and he had to borrow the cultivation contained in the sword from Ye Jiuya.

Moreover, according to that person, the sword energy transcending the body's constraints would be a whole realm higher than before.

Young Master Chen's swordsmanship flowed like clouds and water, with a hint of unorthodox wickedness, while the Demon Emperor's techniques were extremely fast and strange, ever-changing and unpredictable.

A gale rose on the mountain peak. In the flashes of lightning, only fluttering robes could be seen.

After a dozen or so exchanges like this, Chen Weichen narrowed his eyes slightly.

The Demon Emperor's fighting style always seemed restrained; despite clearly possessing cultivation rivaling the third level of the immortal realm, he only displayed the battle power of the peak of the second level.

As his figure shifted, he deliberately showed an obvious opening. If the Demon Emperor could use his left arm to block, taking a moderate injury, he would be able to attack the empty gate on the right and determine the victor.

But the Demon Emperor only defended and did not attack, choosing instead to use his right hand to block the sword.

If it wasn't a special fetish of not wanting to be injured, then there must be a reason he could not be injured.

After Chen Weichen discovered this, he probed even more intently.

He had just used the sword tapping technique learned from Ye Jiuya. This time, he switched to the style of the South Sea Sword Platform. Its moves were numerous and dense, the silver light of his blade enveloping his opponent like a storm. It was not easy to determine the victor, but it was not difficult to inflict some light injuries.

The Demon Emperor's techniques changed several times, using the flute's sound to break the momentum, blocking this round of attacks like a sudden rainstorm. He retreated a few steps and glanced at Chen Weichen, his voice carrying a hint of lazy ease: "Tired, don't want to fight anymore--I concede."

"Concede the Demon Emperor's position to me?"

"If you want it, we'd still have to fight." The Demon Emperor sighed lightly. "But from your sword energy and techniques, you don't seem like those who want to take my life and monopolize the spring."

"What a coincidence," Chen Weichen laughed. "I'm precisely the one who came to monopolize the spring."

The Demon Emperor examined him carefully again, a hint of charming laziness between his brows. "I quite like you, but if you want to discuss the Dao or compare swords with me, that's fine. The spring is not possible--if you really want it, you'll have to die."

Chen Weichen also looked at him with a calm gaze, stepping forward, the sword tip pressed against the Demon Emperor's slender neck. "What is Your Majesty hiding?"

The Demon Emperor smiled unconcernedly. "Just come at me."

His neck was quite fair. Getting closer, faint blue veins could be vaguely seen.

Veins.

He sensed a hint of flowing energy.

The Demon Emperor said, "You really want to? Regardless of the consequences?"

Chen Weichen made an "mm" sound.

The Demon Emperor waved his hand. "I'm kindhearted. You can leave your last words."

Chen Weichen did not speak. The sword edge moved forward, slicing the neck, blood flowing along the blade in a crimson line.

The circulating energy poured out.

--It was precisely what he wanted.

From the Demon Emperor's "have you thought it through" when he was about to touch the spring, or even earlier, from Chi Juntian's "bear the demon realm's fate", signs of what the Nine Nether Heavenly Spring truly was had already emerged.

When the whales, giant salamanders, and flood dragons died, they formed the Annihilation Incense. A fire burned away the dynasty's wealth and glory, leaving the Jinxiu ashes.

And the Nine Nether Heavenly Spring was just a quietly existing pool. Something must happen to it, involving a great fate, for it to bear the energy of rise and fall.

For example, helping generations of demon cultivators--these heaven-defying ones who should die escape the heavenly tribulation lightning.

Just now, when he dipped the grass blade into the spring, the grass dissolved into wisps of turbid demonic energy, precisely because the spring could alter fate and seize destiny. Marquis Youshui carried a bottle filled with spring water, but did not drink it, probably fearing she could not withstand such power.

And since the Demon Emperor could be the head of the demon realm, if he could not withstand it, no one else could.

Presumably, over these years, monopolizing the Nine Nether Heavenly Spring, he had gained great benefits from the spring water--for example, his flesh and blood had fused with the spring, achieving cultivation that did not fear heavenly retribution.

The blood flowing from the sword had become the true Nine Nether Heavenly Spring.

As the blood dripped, he took out the jade bottle Marquis Youshui had presented earlier, emptied the spring water, and collected the crimson blood.

The Demon Emperor remained motionless, letting him do as he pleased. When it was done, he even licked his lower lip suggestively. "What are you trying to do?"

"I promised someone." Chen Weichen finished drawing blood and kindly wiped away the remaining blood stains on his wound. Perhaps due to his body being nourished by the Nine Nether Heavenly Spring, he had an extraordinary physique, and the bleeding stopped after a short while.

Young Master Chen sincerely said, "Brother Xing, thank you."

"I just told you that Xingluo Abyss is at the end of the world." The Demon Emperor looked at the sky.

"Yes."

The Demon Emperor: "Then beyond Xingluo Abyss..."

Chen Weichen expressionlessly said, "It should be outside the world."

"That's right, I think so too." The Demon Emperor nodded. "You saw that the Nine Nether Heavenly Spring condenses from the mist in Xingluo Abyss, so it must also be from outside this world. That's probably why it can resist the Heavenly Dao."

Chen Weichen looked at him.

"You are a very interesting person, and your realm is comparable to mine. I'm bored fighting the Heavenly Dao alone. I originally thought we could be intimate Dao companions," the Demon Emperor sighed. "But you want the spring water—which is fine—but you also want to cut my neck for blood, so I'm afraid I must disappoint you."

Chen Weichen slightly narrowed his eyes and saw demonic and turbid qi crazily entangling and gathering around the Demon Emperor, his dark eyes like deep abysses.

"I've been with the Nine Nether Heavenly Spring for twenty years and have provoked some incredible things," his voice began to become intermittent, "Be careful."

After he finished speaking this sentence with difficulty as if he were dying, he suddenly closed his eyes, the qi around him crazily circulating. In an instant, when he opened them again, his eyes were all black without any whites, like lightless abysses.

Those scarlet lips curled into a chilling smile, his figure as strange as a snake slithering in the sky like lightning. His five fingers became claws, slashing towards Chen Weichen in the air.

Chen Weichen immediately held his sword horizontally, but after all, his mortal body that had been pampered and spoiled dragged him down, far less agile and nimble than those cultivators who entered the Dao through martial arts. He could exchange and replay moves slowly with Ye Jiuya, and he had fought the Demon Emperor evenly just moments ago with his peerless sword. But he had no time to react in an instant the naked eye could not capture. The Demon Emperor, already extremely fast, was now even faster—who knew what he had become? The turbid qi around his body was ten times stronger than the thing encountered in Jinxiu City.

Chen Weichen was grabbed by the neck, those pale fingers extremely forceful, effortlessly lifting him into the air.

Chen Weichen felt a suffocating, sharp pain in his neck.

The Demon Emperor stiffly tilted his head a little, the movement carrying a strange innocence.

Then, as if dispatching a helpless animal, he exerted his strength and fiercely slammed him to the ground.

Chen Weichen's back was in severe pain, his internal organs churning into a mess, and the taste of blood immediately welled up from his throat.

He used his sword to prop himself up from the ground, barely standing up, his figure swaying a few times before stabilizing.

"Not dead." The Demon Emperor's voice was hoarse and stiff as he walked towards him step by step, his loose black hair and wide robe sleeves fluttering in the wind, accompanied by the thundering sounds in the sky, like a demon coming to claim his life.

His strength at this time was a whole major realm higher than before, and his body had also grown much taller. His complexion was pale with a tinge of ashen gray. Looking down at Chen Weichen from above, the frenzied aura in his eyes lessened slightly, his voice low: "You are..."

At this time, there was not a single part of Chen Weichen's body that did not hurt. Only the cold and tranquil sensation of the sword in his hand sustained the clarity of his mind, preventing him from losing consciousness. Under these circumstances, he still laughed clearly, pulling at his injuries. He bent over and coughed a few times, fresh blood flowing from the corner of his mouth, and he reached out to wipe it away.

He raised his head to look at the Demon Emperor who had completely changed into another person, his voice weak and hoarse, yet carrying a certain nonchalance of having a sure win.

"Both of us are things that can't be seen by others," he coughed a few more times, his voice intermittent, "This brother, why the hurry to fight each other."

The Demon Emperor raised his hand, his fingers slowly pointing towards the space between his brows.

Chen Weichen used the last of his strength to thrust his sword straight at his heart. The Demon Emperor immediately wanted to block it with his arm, but half of his arm was cut off by that gleaming sword light. The cut was neat, the flesh and bones all black. Thick black blood splashed onto the grass, the green grass and white flowers all dissipating into black qi, exposing the mountain rocks and soil.

The Demon Emperor frowned, his other arm swift as lightning, grabbing his collar and lifting him up again. He walked a few steps to the edge of the spring pool: "The human realm cannot be stayed in for long."

Chen Weichen coughed up another mouthful of blood, trying to break free from him, but had no strength left: "It's none of your business if I die."

The Demon Emperor was unmoved and let go. Chen Weichen fell into the water.

He let out a muffled groan, unexpectedly choking on water. The pain from where his body touched the spring water was a hundred times more intense than before, surpassing the pain of Ye Jiuya forcibly changing his bones.

His consciousness was hazy amidst the surging pain, without any strength to struggle. The spring water submerged him, and he sank. In the end, he only vaguely saw the thing the Demon Emperor had turned into also wading into the spring pool.