Chapter Twenty-Three: The Great Age Has Begun, I Shall Once Again Claim the Title of Asura...
In an instant, the air was torn by wails of despair and the shrillest screams of terror, echoing across the entire plain.
That icy inferno—Hell of Frozen Suffering—was beyond their comprehension.
It was eerie, merciless…
So overwhelming that it snuffed out even the faintest impulse to resist.
Slash after slash, the sound of flesh being torn apart rang out, and all the quasi-emperors stared in horror as their own bodies were carved away, piece by piece, by their own comrades to feed the frozen abyss.
Soon, not a single shadow remained above the glacial hell.
Then, amidst the howling of sinister winds, a figure clad in a black and gold mantle emerged slowly, radiating dominion.
Kneeling at his feet were dozens of phantasmal, ice-blue apparitions—strange beyond words.
His gaze swept over the millions of soldiers below, all of whom stood frozen with fear. As a faint, imperious aura emanated from him, the deep voice of King Chujiang rang out:
“You may ignore the laws of heaven, you may scorn gods and ghosts…”
“But the edicts of the Emperor must not be defied.”
“Today, I will mete out the ultimate punishment to your kings, as a minor warning.”
“If such things happen again, not a single living creature shall remain in the northern lands.”
With these words, King Chujiang’s profound gaze once more swept across the millions of trembling, heads-bowed soldiers. Then he turned, took a single light step, and his form slowly vanished…
Meanwhile, deep within Longevity Valley, tens of thousands of miles away.
Beside the illusory lake summoned by the Underworld Emperor, thousands of wounded ghostly soldiers gazed downward in silence; not one spoke a word.
The atmosphere was uncannily still.
By the lakeshore, the Underworld Emperor stood motionless. Beside him was Qingli, whose injuries were slowly stabilizing.
She still wore her bloodstained battle armor; her cloak, saturated with blood, was entirely crimson. Her long black hair was somewhat disheveled, and her starlit gaze held a shadow of melancholy. Her lashes trembled lightly, and though her frame was petite, she radiated an aura of killing intent.
Clearly, the recent bloody battle had pushed Qingli to her limits.
Little Jin’er and Ling Ye stood silently beside the Underworld Emperor as well.
His gaze swept over the assembly, and a profound light appeared in the Underworld Emperor’s eyes. After a brief pause, his calm voice sounded:
“Countless ages ago, the starry sky was in chaos, and all races fought for dominance.”
“Gods and demons emerged, monsters and fiends threw the world into disorder, and all living things suffered…”
“But from that turmoil, an invincible legion rose to power…”
At these words, a gleam of memory flashed deep in the Underworld Emperor’s eyes. He waved a hand and brushed the illusory surface of the lake.
Instantly, an image surfaced upon the water!
All present gazed intently.
Within the vision: endless stars, boundless continents drawing near in an instant. Scenes of burning, looting, and slaughter unfolded, involving humans, beastfolk, and many other strange races…
The scene shifted—a figure in a black and gold embroidered robe appeared, standing proud upon a dais, his back to the multitudes, radiating supreme nobility.
Below him, tens of thousands of cultivators clad in blood-red robes and wearing eerie masks knelt on one knee, right hands pressed to their chests.
The vision shifted again. Those masked cultivators entered a chaotic continent and began a massacre.
All harboring murderous intent were slain!
Blood sprayed, and hellish carnage was revealed once more.
But soon, the scene changed again.
Now, there was no more battle—yet the earth was stained red with blood.
Countless cultivators and creatures knelt, trembling, at the feet of those masked figures.
The vision paused here. A trace of nostalgia flashed in the Underworld Emperor’s eyes, and his calm voice sounded again:
“To end killing with killing is the fastest way to restore order…”
“But the path of the Asura cannot be completed by obsession alone…”
He waved his hand again, and the lake’s illusion changed.
The masked figures now sat cross-legged in the middle of a plain, surrounded by endless wind blades!
Driven by some mysterious force, the wind blades sliced rapidly across their bodies, drawing sprays of blood!
Yet the masked ones seemed indifferent, meditating as if in deep cultivation…
The scene shifted once more. Those same masked figures walked barefoot through freezing mountains and valleys…
Wind, glaciers, magma, thunder valleys—
Again and again, the visions showed those masked cultivators enduring harsh training.
Witnessing this, the ghostly soldiers’ faces grew grave, and their eyes filled with reverence.
Such cultivation was too cruel…
Ordinary people could never bear it.
The Underworld Emperor sensed their awe and sighed quietly before shaking his head. His voice sounded softly:
“To endure endless suffering without complaint—this is the path of the Asura…”
“Thus the Asura, too, possess overwhelming murderous intent…”
He paused, then, after a moment of silence, spoke again:
“They were the greatest heroes of the Age of Darkness…”
“In the name of blood, to fight until the final chapter—this was every Asura’s lifelong vow…”
“They embodied slaughter, yet also became an object of faith…”
“They represented an era revered and feared by countless beings…”
As his words echoed, the lake displayed again those masked figures, clad in murderous aura.
They strode across the heavens, rivers of blood in their wake!
They slew gods and demons, their names shaking the stars!
Fiends trembled, evil spirits recoiled!
Countless beings prostrated before them, worshipping as if they were gods!
But as each battle unfolded and ended, their numbers dwindled rapidly…
Until, at last, only a single, bizarre mask remained at the center of the illusory lake.
It was impossible to name the material of its white surface, but it was covered in intricate, blood-red lines radiating an unspeakable murderous force.
A single glance at it conjured the sense of standing amidst mountains of corpses and seas of blood.
Here, the vision froze completely.
No one could say why—whether the mask itself was mesmerizing, or if it embodied the glory all soldiers yearned for…
Thousands of ghostly soldiers stared silently at the mask in the lake, their eyes unwavering.
Qingli did the same.
Her gaze fixed on the mask, and the faint aura of slaughter around her rippled subtly…
No one’s heart was at peace.
Not even the Underworld Emperor.
“In those years, the Blood Asura were founded by my own hand.”
After a long silence, the Underworld Emperor’s gaze swept the crowd, a profound light slowly appearing in his eyes as he spoke quietly:
“Since the final battle of the apocalypse, the few Asuras who survived accompanied my departure, vanishing from the world, hidden across the boundless cosmos…”
“Now that I have returned… heaven and earth have become as they once were…”
“All races are restless, monsters throw the world into chaos, gods and demons emerge…”
“There is no peace left in the world…”
He paused, a gleam flashing in his eyes as the lake’s surface reflected all worlds and heavens. He raised a hand, pointed directly within, and spoke calmly:
“The great era has dawned. I will once again anoint the Asura!”
“They shall stride across the myriad worlds, quell monsters and fiends, and slaughter gods and demons to the last!”
“The stars shall be washed in blood…”