The spatial rifts within the Netherworld Battlefield existed because countless ages of war had pushed this realm to the brink of collapse. If not for the Cultivation Alliance reinforcing it periodically with grand spells, it would have long ago crumbled into nothingness.

  Those rifts connected to a dark star-sea—boundless and endless—filled with violent Nether energy and innumerable mysterious creatures.

  It was not that no one had ever entered a rift and returned. But those Nascent Soul experts who did so would immediately teleport out upon entering, before the terrifying suction within the rift fully activated.

  The true horror of the Netherworld rifts lay precisely in that suction—so dreadful that even Nascent Soul masters turned pale at its mention. Under its pull, even the Nether-origin energy within one’s body could be forcibly extracted, let alone escape.

  And that was only part of it.

  No one knew where those rifts truly led. From the experts who returned, it was known only that inside was utter darkness—nothing visible. Divine consciousness was completely suppressed, unable to extend outward.

  Within one such rift, a faint Azure point of light appeared, drifting slowly in the void.

  Within that light flickered a weak flame of soul.

  Time passed—who knew how long.

  The light drifted endlessly. The soul flame began to dim.

  Ages passed in the blink of an eye. The light faded almost entirely; only a frail spark remained.

  One day, a vast shadow floated near.

  It was a massive corpse.

  It resembled a Nether Ruins clansman, yet upon its forehead was not the familiar Azure skull—but a pitch-black bone scythe.

  A black bone scythe.

  Any Nether Ruins clansman would immediately recognize it: the mark of the Ancestor Nether—an ancient Nether race being.

  The moment it touched the light, a wisp of smoke emerged from the corpse, forming a horned phantom creature midair. It stared greedily at the light and lunged.

  This was a unique lifeform of the rifts—Nether Soul Phantoms. They devoured everything: corpses, treasures, souls.

  But as it pounced—

  It shrieked.

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  In an instant, it was absorbed into the light and vanished.

  The Azure light brightened.

  The soul flame grew stronger.

  At that moment—

  Yun Che awakened.

  More precisely, his soul awakened.

  At first, he had no awareness—only a flame. A profound coldness permeated his consciousness.

  Then he sensed a vast source of fire nearby. Though it emitted evil aura, he did not hesitate.

  The Azure light flashed and drilled into the giant corpse’s forehead.

  Wrapped in Netherfire-like substance, the cold faded. He drifted in slumber again.

  Time passed—far longer than before.

  The corpse floated endlessly.

  Perhaps because Yun Che’s consciousness resided within it, countless Nether Soul Phantoms manifested nearby and rushed toward him like moths to flame.

  All were devoured.

  His consciousness grew stronger.

  More creatures came.

  To them, the corpse glowed like a beacon in the dark abyss.

  Yun Che did not know how long passed.

  He devoured endlessly.

  Each devouring sharpened his clarity.

  Until one day—

  He remembered.

  His birth.

  Sixteen years with his parents.

  The small courtyard of Hanshui Town.

  The Profound Ice Sword Sect.

  And finally—

  Teng Huayuan.

  Sorrow rippled through him.

  He understood everything.

  Li Han had risked everything to save him and brought him into the Netherworld Battlefield—into the rift.

  At the instant of entry, the Heavenly Nether Pearl had changed.

  It vanished.

  Yet it had not disappeared.

  It had fused into his soul.

  Melted.

  Interwoven with him.

  That was why he could devour the powerful Nether Soul Phantoms.

  Li Han had not died—but entered eternal slumber.

  Before sleeping, he had wrapped Yun Che’s parents’ souls within his Nascent Soul.

  They could not be resurrected.

  Yun Che knew this.

  He only wished to keep their souls near him.

  As his memories fully returned, his consciousness had grown enormous.

  The giant corpse began collapsing under the strain.

  He left.

  The cold returned.

  He wandered the void, seeking new corpses to inhabit.

  This cycle repeated for ages.

  Eventually, devouring became instinct.

  From passive to active.

  He had been here too long.

  Long enough to analyze every choice he had ever made.

  Long enough to re-derive every formation from the Nine Nether Formation Compendium he once obtained.

  Long enough to exhaust even thought itself.

  He had seen exits appear in the rifts.

  But his consciousness was too vast to pass through.

  Yet every collision weakened them slightly.

  Once or twice was not enough.

  So he devoured more.

  Until—

  The Nether Soul Phantoms vanished entirely.

  Then one day—

  He encountered another consciousness equal to his own.

  “You have crossed the boundary,” a vague voice transmitted.

  “How do I leave?” Yun Che replied.

  “Leave? Why leave? This place cannot be left…”

  The presence withdrew.

  Yun Che realized—

  There were territories here.

  Beings like him.

  Perhaps stronger.

  After meeting three such presences, he understood—

  He could not shatter a rift with one or two strikes.

  But his resolve to return was unbreakable.

  He conceived a mad plan.

  He spread his consciousness across his entire territory.

  Wherever fluctuations intensified—

  A tiny rift formed.

  Without hesitation, he severed a strand of his consciousness and sent it in.

  Severed.

  Over and over.

  Each cut was agony beyond flesh.

  But each cut brought hope.

  Until one day—

  When another rift appeared—

  He severed not a strand—

  But one-third of his consciousness.

  It rushed into the rift.

  The rift trembled violently but did not collapse.

  At the final instant—

  His remaining consciousness slammed forward—

  BOOM.

  The rift shattered.

  A fist-sized opening appeared.

  Without hesitation—

  All of Yun Che surged toward it—