All five Hanming Iceflames dimmed simultaneously. Fine frost crystals even began to form at their cores. The voice itself was not loud, yet it carried a soul-piercing authority, reverberating endlessly along the ice walls—like whispers rising from the netherworld.
Yun Che took a deep breath and clasped his fists in a bow.
“This junior, Yun Che, pays respects to Senior Han Mingzi.”
The phantom continued to solidify, transforming into an elderly man with snow-white hair and beard, clad in a Azure star-patterned robe. His features were ancient and austere, his eyes deep as an abyss. When his gaze fell upon Yun Che, it felt as though nothing could remain hidden.
After a brief silence, he spoke slowly:
“Han Jue, withdraw.”
Standing to the side, Han Jue hurriedly bowed.
“This disciple obeys Senior Brother’s decree.”
His figure flickered, dissolving into icy mist that vanished into a side corridor in the blink of an eye.
Han Mingzi raised his right hand lightly. A azure light curtain spread outward from his body, instantly enveloping the entire ice hall. As it flowed, it completely severed all internal and external divine sense probing.
He let out a soft sigh, a trace of melancholy hidden in his tone.
“Yun Che, you are not a disciple of my Nine Nether Sect. There is no need for formalities. Since Junior Brother Wu Ming entrusted you to come here… he must have encountered a great calamity. There are no others present now—speak freely.”
Yun Che straightened his posture.
He had already thought this through on the way here. Before a Nascent Soul–level expert, the identity of ‘Wu Ming’s successor’ would never earn full trust. It was better to speak truthfully.
After a brief pause, he recounted his experiences within the Ancient Ice Ruins—from discovering the icy veins, encountering the blue-skinned corpse charm Ah Mei, activating the eight ice orbs and opening the Nine Nether Altar, to Wu Ming’s self-destruction of his Nascent Soul to halt the enemy and his final entrustment of the Samsara Volume jade slip…
With the exception of his Extreme Cold Force and the secrets of the stone bead, Yun Che revealed almost everything.
Han Mingzi listened silently, uttering not a word.
Only after Yun Che finished did he close his eyes briefly in contemplation.
The details this child speaks of align perfectly with Junior Brother Wu Ming’s temperament, cultivation, and even the characteristics of that ‘Minghai’ puppet… It should be true. But for my junior brother to entrust the Samsara Volume to an outsider—was it truly only to deliver a message?
His divine sense quietly swept over Yun Che, and he let out a soft sound of surprise.
Within Han Mingzi’s perception, the Nine Nether cold force circulating inside Yun Che was unbelievably pure. Though his cultivation was merely at the Foundation Establishment realm, the nature of that cold force was already faintly brushing against the threshold of the Extreme Realm!
Even more strangely, this cold force shared the same origin as the orthodox Nine Nether Sect techniques—yet carried subtle, indescribable variations beyond them.
Han Mingzi’s gaze then shifted to Ah Mei behind Yun Che.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
The nine yellowed talismans on the blue-skinned corpse charm emitted a faint trace of… ancient Netherworld contractual aura!
He withdrew his gaze, already understanding Wu Ming’s deeper intent.
This Yun Che—was a seed of inheritance his junior brother had found for the sect in the face of certain doom.
And this Ah Mei—its constitution was likely tied to a lost secret art of the Nine Nether Sect…
Han Mingzi spoke slowly.
“Yun Che, the one behind you… is the Ah Mei who accompanied Junior Brother Wu Ming for many years, is it not?”
Yun Che nodded.
“It is.”
Han Mingzi took a deep breath, then made his decision decisively.
“Yun Che, since you have inherited Junior Brother Wu Ming’s legacy and cultivate the foundational techniques of my Nine Nether Sect, you may be considered half a Nine Nether disciple already. The quality of the cold veins here far surpasses the outside world, and the Samsara Volume’s complete inheritance is available for study…”
“Would you be willing to formally enter my Nine Nether Relic Tomb, and continue this lineage?”
Yun Che had long anticipated this possibility. He did not hesitate and bowed respectfully.
“This junior is willing.”
“Good.”
Han Mingzi nodded.
“In that case, you shall inherit Junior Brother Wu Ming’s mantle and become a True Inheritance Disciple of the 373rd generation of my Nine Nether Sect.”
His tone shifted as he pointed toward Ah Mei.
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“As for Ah Mei… I must take it to the Nether Soul Hall to examine its constitution.”
Seeing hesitation flicker across Yun Che’s face, Han Mingzi smiled faintly.
“Rest assured. Ah Mei shares a deep bond with Junior Brother Wu Ming. I will not harm it. If its constitution is as I suspect… I may personally guide it, and help it awaken a higher level of intelligence.”
With a wave of his hand, a azure jade slip engraved with flowing frost-crystal patterns flew toward Yun Che.
At the same time, his left hand clenched in the air, and an invisible force wrapped around Ah Mei—
Ah Mei’s crimson eyes shrank. It let out a rapid, anxious cry, struggling briefly—only to be instantly frozen in place, as if sealed in ice.
With a flicker of Han Mingzi’s phantom, both figures vanished from the ice hall.
Yun Che caught the jade slip and swept it with his divine sense. His expression shifted slightly.
The jade slip recorded only basic ice-element techniques and the rules and commandments of the Nine Nether Sect—there was no core cultivation method.
After a moment’s thought, Yun Che understood.
This was the sect’s initial acceptance, but not yet full trust.
As he was examining it, icy mist surged from the side corridor, and Elder Han Jue emerged. Seeing that Han Mingzi had already departed, he let out a breath of relief—then froze when his gaze landed on the Azure jade slip in Yun Che’s hand.
Han Jue’s expression changed instantly. He retreated three steps and bowed deeply.
“Disciple Han Jue pays respects to Martial Uncle Yun.”
Yun Che was momentarily stunned.
“Elder Han Jue, there is no need for this. The color of this jade slip…?”
Han Jue gave a bitter smile and retrieved a pale-blue jade slip from his robes.
“Martial Uncle may not know—within the Nine Nether Relic Tomb, jade slips serve as proof of identity. They are divided into four ranks:
-
The guarding patriarchs hold Profound Nether Black Slips
-
True Inheritance Disciples and Hall Masters hold Azure True Slips
-
Elders and executives hold Pale-Blue Slips
-
Ordinary disciples hold Ice-White Slips
He pointed at Yun Che’s jade slip.
“The one you hold is a azure True Slip. According to sect law, anyone who holds it has a status equal to a Hall Master. How would this junior dare address you as a peer?”
Yun Che was about to respond when—
All five Hanming Iceflames in the hall suddenly flickered!
Several strands of blue smoke drifted from their cores, intertwining in midair and condensing into a slender thread.
Han Jue’s expression shifted. He formed a seal with his right hand and shouted softly,
“Receive!”
The smoke thread floated toward him, sank into his brow, and vanished.
Han Jue closed his eyes briefly, then smiled at Yun Che.
“Martial Uncle, Patriarch Han Mingzi has sent word. An Profound Ice Quiet Chamber has been arranged for your cultivation. Shall this junior guide you there?”
Yun Che found the sect’s “ice-smoke messaging” technique rather intriguing. He nodded with a smile.
“Much obliged.”
The two moved swiftly into the corridor, one after the other.
Along the way, Han Jue gave a brief introduction to the current state of the Nine Nether Relic Tomb. Combined with Han Shuo’s earlier hints, Yun Che gained a preliminary understanding of this subterranean sect:
The Nine Nether Relic Tomb—one of the hidden sects of the Northern Domain.
There were roughly eight hundred disciples, all residing within this underground ice city.
Except for a few executives tasked with acquiring supplies or guiding branch disciples, the vast majority of cultivators spent their entire lives in secluded cultivation here.
Contrary to the outside world’s image of a sinister, demonic sect, the Nine Nether Relic Tomb was more like a holy land of bitter asceticism.
Almost every disciple cultivated with near-mad obsession.
And behind that madness lay an extremely cruel sect system:
“Those who fail to reach Foundation Establishment in ten years, Golden Core in thirty years, or Nascent Soul in a hundred years… must all enter the Ice Coffins to slumber for a century, using their bodies as fuel to nourish the cold veins.”
Han Jue’s voice was low.
“Every year, disciples are sent into the ice coffins. Every ‘Coffin Entry Ceremony’—all sect members must attend… as a warning.”
Likewise, every year disciples were dispatched throughout the Northern Domain to seek mortals with Ice Spirit Roots or Netherworld Constitutions. No matter the means, they had to be brought back to replenish losses.
“It’s not that no one resists,” Han Jue paused, his voice dropping further.
“But upon entering the sect, every disciple has a strand of their Life-Bound Soul Thread extracted and sealed into their identity jade slip. Those who hold higher-tier slips… can decide the life or death of lower disciples with a single thought.”
He added quietly:
The Nine Nether Relic Tomb was merely one of many remnants of the Nine Nether Sect. Where the true main sect lay—no one knew.
Only that every hundred years, Upper Sect Inspectors would arrive. And the attendants by their side… all exuded Nascent Soul–level auras.
Yun Che felt a chill in his heart.
He suddenly realized—
When Han Mingzi granted him the jade slip, no soul thread had been extracted from him.
At the same time, deep within the ice city, inside a secret chamber entirely forged from Ten-Thousand-Year Profound Ice.
Han Mingzi’s phantom solidified upon landing. He casually placed the frozen Ah Mei upon a nearby ice platform, then sat cross-legged upon the central ice couch.
His right hand formed a seal and pressed against his own brow.
The next instant—his body convulsed violently!
A blurry gray shadow, radiating ancient decayed aura, was slowly peeled from within him!
The shadow hovered in midair, its form unstable, vaguely humanoid. It circled Ah Mei several times, then extended a fog-condensed arm toward Ah Mei’s forehead—
“Youhai, stop!”
Han Mingzi’s eyes snapped open. He spat out a strand of Azure Nascent Flame, which transformed into an icy fire whip and lashed viciously across the gray shadow’s arm!
“This ‘Netherworld Puppet Body’ was nurtured by Junior Brother Wu Ming with his own flesh and blood, and was a candidate he implied for succession. You are not to harm it!”
Han Mingzi’s voice was ice-cold.
The gray shadow let out a shrill, eerie laugh and withdrew its arm, drifting into a corner of the chamber.
“Han Mingzi… you and that junior brother of yours were nothing more than furnaces chosen by us.”
Its voice screeched like ice blades scraping stone.
“Back then, Wu Ming escaped quickly—before Lord Nether Sovereign’s divine sense fully awakened. How laughable, that he would still seek your aid. Pure self-destruction!”
It sneered.
“Now that you knew he was trapped in the Ancient Ice Ruins, why didn’t you assist Lord Nether Sovereign in devouring Wu Ming’s Nascent Soul?”
Han Mingzi’s expression was dark as still water.
“Before you completely devour me, do not think to command me. As for the struggle between the Nether Sovereign and Junior Brother Wu Ming… this old man aids neither. Success or failure depends on one’s own ability.”
The gray shadow chuckled coldly.
“As you wish. However, the next batch of ‘divine sense vessels’ will soon arrive—twelve this time, all carefully selected Nether Dao Bodies from the main sect. You must choose suitable furnaces…”
“Remember your identity. You are merely the Nine Nether Sect’s external executor in this world.”
It paused, turning toward Ah Mei.
“And this little thing… how do you plan to deal with it?”
Han Mingzi fell silent for a long time.
Four hundred years ago, because he possessed a Nine Nether Body, he had been brought into the Nine Nether Sect. His talent was peerless; in four centuries he reached the Nascent Soul realm.
Yet just as he was about to break through to mid–Nascent Soul, the natal puppet Youhai, which he had nurtured for centuries… developed an independent will and began eroding his soul from within!
And through that long, agonizing erosion, he learned the darkest secret of the Nine Nether Sect:
So-called “inheritance.”
So-called “cultivation.”
Were nothing more than a furnace-breeding ritual prepared for the remnants of an ancient Netherworld soul.
Cultivation.
All of it—nothing more than a furnace-breeding ritual for an ancient Netherworld remnant.
A calculated gamble?
Or the opening move of an even greater game?