Volume One: The Hidden Dragon in the Abyss Chapter 51: The Sacred River

“What a ruler who dominated the ages! But what happened afterward? In that great battle, our clan suffered countless deaths and injuries, and even those who later went to the land of the Divine Clan—none of them ever returned!” The Demon Lord sneered coldly. “So what if we cling to life? At least we’re still alive, still have a chance to lead our people back to the days when we ruled all realms! Xu Sheng, and don’t you forget—who nurtured you since childhood, who brought you to where you are today, ruling a sect? Our clan spent countless resources on you, and yet you show not a trace of gratitude.”

“We were just cannon fodder. Of the hundred of us back then, only nine finally set foot on the Divine Continent. I’ve always understood this: from the moment I set out, life and death mattered no more, the past was wiped clean! I am not who I once was. And after joining the Sacred Demon Sect, all I have done over the years—even bringing you here today—is more than enough.” Xu Sheng sighed. “So-called survival—now the mighty Demon Lord is no match for a mere mortal, yet shamelessly asks for my help?”

“It was all an accident! Who knows what strange tricks Wang Chuan used!” The Demon Lord almost leapt up, furious. “Xu Sheng, don’t think you can escape this. Once a demon, always a demon—the clan runs through your veins for eternity. Do you still dream of attaining sainthood?”

“My path is mine alone!”

Xu Sheng raised a hand, drawing torrents of demonic energy from between heaven and earth, tempering his demonic tower again and again.

The Demon Lord’s body visibly trembled at the sight, disbelief shining in his eyes.

Neither of them had reached godhood or sainthood, but at their level, they could see Wang Chuan’s situation clearly.

What he hadn’t expected was that Xu Sheng had also reached this level.

He had taken that step.

Though neither of them were gods or saints, they wielded powers of the divine and the sacred. Mortal bodies, yet not quite mortal.

Had this been in ancient times, they would have long since shattered their shackles!

Ascended to the realm of myth!

That was what made him wary: both of them possessed the courage to prove the Dao with their bodies, unafraid to perish for their path.

If he wished to erase them, it would cost him dearly, beyond imagination.

Could it be, as Xu Sheng said, that he was truly afraid? Had he grown cowardly?

As Xu Sheng activated the demonic tower, a subtle spatial power rippled, flowing through every inch of his flesh, his aura coursing through him as if each part of his body was an independent space, operating under the laws of space. This was something no ordinary mythic figure could compare to.

“Xu Sheng, what is it you want, then? What do you seek?” the Demon Lord asked curiously.

He had sensed the other’s transformation, and after a moment of shock, his expression grew grave, his words now carried the weight of equals.

So he had truly reached this level.

Before, no matter how brilliant or astonishing Xu Sheng was, in their eyes he was just a prodigious disciple, a junior. But now, Xu Sheng’s cultivation had reached this height.

In the Divine Continent, with its profound roots and deep reserves, who knew what he had gained?

All these changes stemmed from power.

Wang Chuan had long understood this, feeling ever more keenly that in all the myriad realms, seniority, morality, human relationships, sect dogma—they were all paper-thin. Only power was truly unbreakable!

“Power reigns supreme! That is the eternal law!” Wang Chuan sighed.

“Whoever has the might to suppress the myriad realms—that one is Heaven, that one is the law, that one determines right and wrong!” Xu Sheng sneered as well. “Heaven and earth are merciless, treating all things as straw dogs; the sage is merciless, treating all beings as ants. Who is the dragon, who is the ant? Who do we wish to become?”

Such a stark and brutal reality.

“That is why we must become strong!” The two shared the same thought.

“Demon Lord, you ask what I want? For those who walk the great Dao, all we seek is to follow our hearts. You wouldn’t understand.” Xu Sheng gazed at him calmly.

As a murderous intent welled up, a sharp, cold aura emanated from his body.

Wang Chuan, standing nearby, felt a sudden chill, as if the very gods and demons of heaven and earth were about to descend and annihilate everything.

This Xu Sheng was a man who defied all bounds, daring to face down the Demon Lord himself.

Whoever blocked his path, he would cut down without hesitation!

“Follow your heart? Ridiculous. Martial cultivators must defy fate, compromise again and again to achieve greatness.” The Demon Lord mocked. “The path you walk was wrong from the start.”

“Whatever the case, it is my path—no one else has the right to judge. And you, clinging to your last breath, what right have you to question me?” Xu Sheng sneered. “You can’t even handle a mere mortal!”

“Enough! Xu Sheng, go ahead and try!” The Demon Lord roared.

Wang Chuan was not so easily dealt with. He had struggled and fought, done so much, and still he had lost.

This man truly seemed favored by fate. He could well afford to lie low for now.

He had not lost yet—there would be another chance.

He only had to wait for the arrival of the demon world’s hosts, and then he could seize control of all things once more.

“Enough of this chatter, both of you.” Wang Chuan watched coldly from the sidelines, utterly uninterested in their affairs. His palms moved in tandem, continuing to refine heaven and earth.

Ancient and profound pure yang energy surged forth, like the breath of spring after rain.

High above, the sky began to tilt and press down, floods raging and magma spewing.

The earth erupted with molten rock, melting all in its path.

“Wang Chuan, do you juniors really think you can run wild and do as you please?” The Demon Lord had never seen such brazen insolence, nor the likes of Xu Sheng defying his elders.

Did they truly believe, just because he was only an avatar, that they could stand against the ancient giants?

Suddenly, a thunderous shout exploded between heaven and earth.

A massive hand descended, grasping fiercely.

“Is your Dragon-Seizing Claw so remarkable?” The Demon Lord sneered.

In the palm of that great hand, a black and white twin vortex of true energy spun, devouring all in its path.

Yin and yang in harmony, mastery over heaven and earth.

Such power was no longer tolerated by the world—the entire realm seemed on the verge of collapse.

Even control over the Demon Lord’s legacy was slipping away, as if everything was being reset.

This was enough to crush Wang Chuan into dust.

A technique of ages past—one that destroyed both spirit and flesh.

“Demon Lord, you court death!”

Wang Chuan was unfazed, without a trace of fear.

He roamed the world freely, with hardly any force left that could threaten him.

Suddenly, his hands formed seals in rapid succession. With a single strike, a poisonous mist billowed, serpents of venom rising, coalescing into form, roaring ceaselessly, tearing at space as they struck at his foe.

“This world belongs to our generation now. Your era, the age of the old demon lords, is over—it’s finished.” Wang Chuan sneered.

Heroes rise with every age.

This was their time.

The best of times!

“Wang Chuan, it seems you must die! This one cannot be allowed to live—his future is limitless!”

Suddenly, a fierce force tore through space, descending.

It ripped open a fissure, into which Wang Chuan’s attack was drawn, vanishing to who knows where.

The man had not yet appeared, but his voice had arrived.

And his aura swept the heavens, effortlessly nullifying Wang Chuan’s strike.

Suddenly, winds howled and strange phenomena appeared.

At that moment, a roaring river burst from the void, crossing the sky in a devastating charge.

The great river stretched for a thousand miles, surging toward Wang Chuan.

“To move mountains and shift rivers—what kind of power is this? Who has come?” Wang Chuan could not help but wonder.

He did not attempt to dodge.

Battles among warriors were contests of will.

Now was not the time to yield.

Even knowing that taking this attack head-on would bring grave harm, he cared not.

This was what set Wang Chuan apart from the Demon Lord—a creature steeped in decay, always seeking to avoid a strong foe.

“Would you not like to see my Dragon-Seizing Claw?”

Wang Chuan’s five fingers closed, seizing forth!

Vast demonic energy surged like a river, flowing into the sea.

From all directions, power gathered and surged.

With an outstretched hand, Wang Chuan’s fingers closed from afar, grasping the oncoming force.

Xu Sheng watched, his body trembling. He saw the great river surging forward, its waters flowing mid-air like a dragon, twisting and turning, shrouded in mist.

Yet Wang Chuan reached out to seize it.

The Dragon-Seizing Claw, said to capture all things with form.

But that was only a figure of speech.

If insufficient strength, how could one seize the dragon?

The Demon Lord had already mentioned the flaw: with Wang Chuan’s current cultivation, he could not wield it. It was like a child faced with a peerless weapon—lacking the strength even to lift it, let alone swing it.

This was Wang Chuan’s situation. He was neither god nor saint.

If seizing a dragon required a hundred thousand units of strength, and he had but ten thousand, how could he succeed?

He could not bring forth the true power of this ancient art.

“This is… our clan’s Sacred River?” Xu Sheng gasped in shock.

At last, he realized this was no ordinary river.

In another moment, he almost called for Wang Chuan to stop.

They had no hope!

“So what? What of the Sacred River?” Wang Chuan was unconcerned. It was but a river.

Moving mountains and shifting seas—he could do that now.

With the Dragon-Seizing Claw unleashed, the two forces struggled.

Wang Chuan seized it with ease.

His opponent, too, remained calm, slowly revealing himself.

“The Sacred River is one of our clan’s holy sites, nurturing countless prodigies, its depths built over millions of years, and the resting place of innumerable demon clansmen—it is of profound significance,” Xu Sheng muttered in astonishment. “How could the Sacred River be moved here? How can anyone wield it?”

The Sacred River was laced with countless seals, its own power immense. Even the Demon Lord would find it nearly impossible to approach, yet someone had driven it here—traversing the void, crossing the stars, into the Demon Lord’s legacy.

Xu Sheng continued, explaining that, though the river now looked only a few thousand feet long, in truth it was a thousand miles in length, according to the texts he had read. It was forged from the waters of a river ten thousand miles long, and its weight was greater than hundreds of mountains combined!

In the Demon Realm, it served as a mighty defense.

If one could raise this river, a single sweep could shatter mountains!

Today, he had truly witnessed it.

But what shocked him most was that Wang Chuan had seized it with the Dragon-Seizing Claw...

“So powerful!” Wang Chuan nodded, his eyes firm, raising them slowly to the void, toward the one about to arrive.

His hand moved ceaselessly, still grasping the surging river!