Chapter Eleven: The Art of Derivation, The Gathering Storm

"Let us wait a while longer. Soon, it will be time for us to act as well..." Gazing into the illusory waters of the lake, the Celestial Emperor of Shadows remained utterly impassive, his voice calm and void of any trace of emotion.

Yet upon hearing this, King Chujiang's eyes flickered with a barely perceptible gleam. He hurriedly knelt, bowing solemnly to the Emperor of Shadows. "Your servant is willing to brave boiling cauldrons and raging fires for Your Majesty's sake. Though old and worn, I shall yet slaughter ten thousand foes."

The Emperor of Shadows only shook his head slowly. With a wave, a current of spiritual energy lifted King Chujiang gently to his feet. After a brief pause for thought, the emperor inquired, "How fare matters in the Eastern Domain?"

"Your Majesty," King Chujiang replied with a respectful bow. "After the utter destruction of the twelve Sacred Lands, the remaining sects have shown clear signs of submission. It seems the Eastern Domain is already pacified."

The Emperor of Shadows said nothing for a long while. At last, a cold glint flashed in his deep eyes. He spoke coolly, "Deliver all the imperial weapons we seized to Mo Yuan. In three days, he shall lead his former subordinates to establish a new sect in the Eastern Domain, and oversee the region as well."

"As for the snowy northern frontier, leave only those two Quasi-Emperors."

"Human desire is endless. The bitter fruit of peace gained too easily, we have tasted enough. From today forth, our only task is to subdue and suppress."

"Those with divided hearts—kill them. If they are loyal to our Underworld, they will not mind such measures."

"Yes, Your Majesty," King Chujiang answered, bowing low. Having followed the Emperor of Shadows for many years, he knew his sovereign's temperament well. Since Mo Yuan was to withdraw from the Eastern Domain, new hands would inevitably take his place. Such matters were not for subordinates to question.

"Go and see to it," came the emperor's quiet instruction. He spoke no more, his gaze fixed on the illusory lake before him, lost in unknowable thoughts.

King Chujiang offered a deep bow and withdrew in silence.

...

Night deepened, the moon growing ever more veiled. The midnight breeze wound its way across the endless wilds, swirling through forested lands before finally reaching the Valley of Longevity.

Ripples stirred the surface of the phantom lake as the Emperor of Shadows slowly opened his profound eyes.

"Tens of thousands of Yin soldiers are far from enough... The Book of Life and Death is no longer at my side... In the Register of Shadowed Spirits, the divine lights of the other Yama Kings and Judge Cui all grow dim..."

"The Yellow Springs Road will soon extend into the Seven Great Star Seas... When that time comes, the strength of the Yin soldiers will rise considerably..."

"Perhaps this method is somewhat forced, but..." Murmuring thus, the Emperor of Shadows slowly closed his eyes, lapsing into a long silence.

"The Ten Courts of Yama and the endless Yin spirits are still the pillars of the Underworld... King Jiang must not be allowed to repeat past mistakes..."

"The Code of Shadows must be perfected, but the Ten Lords of Yama must realize their own paths..."

"A divine office is, after all, but a temporary post..."

Thinking thus, the emperor opened his eyes once more. He raised his left hand, and in his palm appeared a vision of endless, chilling infernal ice—a howling wind arose, and snow began to fall!

Though it should have been a scene of utter desolation, within the emperor's hand there now emerged a fierce vitality interwoven with the power of death—as if the forces of life and annihilation had become perfectly fused!

"This method is only one possible path..."

"For King Chujiang, it is the most fitting..." Suddenly, a smile curved the emperor's lips. With a quiet murmur, he turned his hand and the infernal ice vanished, replaced by a reckless, all-devouring killing intent that shattered all barriers—

The Realm of Mara's Slaughter!

Countless figures flickered within his palm, shadowy chains glinting in and out of view...

...

Time passed quickly; in the blink of an eye, the night was gone.

When dawn broke the next day, the Emperor of Shadows transmitted to King Chujiang the perfected True Law of the Frozen Hell, instructing him carefully. After a final glance at Qing Li, source of the Yellow Springs, he entered seclusion.

Cultivating the Code of Shadows required a vast quantity of Yin source in the early stages to open up the Sea of Suffering. Upon laying the foundation, one would forge divine arts, fusing them with the core to condense the Supreme Yin Law Pill.

Afterward, the Law Pill would take root, sinking into the Sea of Suffering.

With time and nurture, nine types would manifest, opening the Other Shore and forging nine Supreme Yin Spirits!

When these Dao Spirits arose, they would form a Rainbow Bridge—leading directly to the Ultimate Other Shore!

With the Dao achieved, one could transcend saints, attaining the imperial throne!

At that point, with the Dao fully integrated, one would attain immortality at last!

Such a cultivation system was devised by the Emperor of Shadows specifically for his own unique nature.

By this path, breaking through the ancient limits layer by layer, he would surely surpass his former self before the cycle of reincarnation—by far!

On the other hand—

The Lord of the Celestial Dynasty had been beaten by his own hands into something like a stray dog. Having now seized the position of Supreme Ruler of the Cosmos, he was bound to be more cautious than ever! Even if he did not disperse his cultivation and begin anew, at the very least, he would surely refine his arts and body once again.

Given time, he might well step into the realm of Half-Transcendence.

If he were to confront such an opponent with only his old strength from before reincarnation, it would be difficult indeed.

But if he followed his present plans, at the imperial level he could battle a Quasi-Immortal King unaided by any external force!

After all, though he could slay Immortal Kings even now, it was ultimately by relying on the Yellow Springs that he had forged with his own blood, and the arrangements he had made before reincarnation...

Discarding all of that, he was at best a peerless genius seen once in countless ages.

In this chaotic and infinite cosmos, even his own survival would be uncertain.

How laughable.

At this, the Emperor of Shadows ceased his idle thoughts and began to focus, infusing the Dao of Mara's Slaughter into his first foundation stone...

Time flowed by, and three days soon passed.

A gentle breeze swept the land, warm sunlight bathed the earth, and the entire Valley of Longevity was vibrant with life.

Throughout those three days, the Emperor of Shadows never ceased refining the essence of his Dao. Now, he had reached the final stage.

Yet he did not force the process, choosing instead to let things proceed naturally.

"Mo Yuan, greets my lord."

Before long, the void beside the phantom lake quivered, and a blurred figure clad in heavy armor strode forth, bowing deeply to the Emperor of Shadows.

"The six thousand newly recruited Yin soldiers from Cold Moon Kingdom have taken their posts, ready to be dispatched at your command!"

Mo Yuan's expression was calm and respectful, betraying no emotion, yet the faint tremor of excitement in his eyes did not escape the Emperor of Shadows' notice.

"The order has been given. You are to depart at once," the emperor intoned, lifting him gently with a flow of spiritual energy and offering no further words.

Mo Yuan bowed once more, accepted the command, and withdrew.

"Three years have passed. I wonder, has your obsession been moved at last..."

Paying no further heed to Mo Yuan's departure, the Emperor of Shadows swept a hand before him. As his voice drifted out, the space not far away rippled like water—

With a gentle splash, a spectral gateway appeared, and the sound of flowing water—like the primordial current at the dawn of all things, surging toward the very end of time—rose softly in the air.

A faint hum echoed forth, and from the portal emerged a graceful maiden, clad in a form-fitting palace dress of blue brocade, her three thousand strands of jet-black hair cascading freely about her shoulders...