Blood-red sky, crimson earth. In the distance a waterfall pours down from the heavens—its flow a blackish-red blood. The stench of blood is everywhere, so strong it seems to stab at the soul; even sealing the five senses is useless against it. Lin Moyu's Soul World is protected by Heaven's Primordial Qi, and Little Tree is isolating it with spacetime power—defense even surpassing a Supreme—yet the reek still can't be fully screened out. After all, he can't sever his soul entirely from the outside world—he'd lose all perception. Besides, he still needs to observe the Dao here.
The notes had said the Lower Domain's Dao is "treacherous." Only by stepping into it do you grasp what that means. The Dao here is riddled with impurities and surging with killing intent; countless chaotic thoughts congeal within it and refuse to disperse. Training here leads to only two outcomes: either you lose reason and become a blood-mad husk, or you overcome the Dao's thirst for slaughter and your Dao-heart becomes rock-solid, your combat power eclipsing your peers. That's why the Lower Domain's folk hit so hard. Those two possibilities apply to natives. For outsiders, the local Dao is poison. Soaked in it for ages, even the materials of the Lower Domain carry the taint—useless to cultivators from the other extreme domains. Of the Four Extremes and Three Domains, the Lower Domain is the most peculiar.
"There's Skyscreen Beast blood flowing here," Little Tree said.
"You mean the Lower Domain was evolved out of the Skyscreen Beast?" Lin asked.
Little Tree sensed for a while, then shook his head. "Not entirely. It isn't only the Skyscreen Beast's blood."
"You don't quite get this; let me," Chaoszi cut in. Little Tree didn't argue and let him explain.
"The Skyscreen Beast had an inner world. He dragged enemies into it and there created layer after layer of space to trap and kill them. After he killed those guys, their blood, flesh, and will remained in his inner world, and he could use it. The more he devoured, the stronger he became; correspondingly, his blood accumulated countless impurities. Those impurities didn't hinder him.
"Now the Skyscreen Beast is dead; his hide became a spatial barrier, and the blood-flesh-will of the other beings inside his inner world burst out together with his own blood. If I'm not mistaken, this Lower Domain is actually the Skyscreen Beast's inner world from back then."
Chaoszi has an inner world and knows its rules intimately, so his analysis is likely right. The Lower Domain being the Skyscreen Beast's inner world sounded very plausible.
"If the Lower Domain is his inner world, and the barrier is his hide, then what about the Central and Upper Domains?" Lin asked.
"The Central Domain is just ordinary chaos-space—nothing special. It sits at the former chaos center, so it gathers every Dao—balanced and even," Chaoszi said. "As for the Upper Domain, we'll have to go see. Judging by its people alone, it probably has nothing to do with the Skyscreen Beast."
"We'll take a look later," Lin said. "This place gathers the Skyscreen Beast's own will plus the blood-flesh and wills of everything he swallowed. Those beings died steeped in hatred—no wonder it's like this. The records say the Lower Domain is also mostly human; to cultivate smoothly here, a human's Dao-heart must be far sturdier than their peers elsewhere. The Calamity Supreme's array is at the very center. In such a jumbled environment, what power is his array drawing on—and how?"
"Space power, most likely," Chaoszi said. "Within the Skyscreen Beast was the Space God-Mountain—that was the space-beast's true body, the source of the chaos-wilderness's space power. The Space Dao came from it. In the ancient era, some beings truly stood above Daos; some Daos only formed after those beings died. The Skyscreen Beast's body was the Space God-Mountain, the source of space power."
Little Tree also wielded space power, but differently: his leaned toward piercing space, while the Skyscreen Beast's was comprehensive—piercing, creating independent spaces, expanding and compressing them, and more. What Little Tree knew, the Beast knew; what the Beast knew, Little Tree might not.
"Let's go," Lin said, looking into the distance. Soul-flames flickered—someone was coming, and a pre-Supreme at that.
He activated the Hidden Spirit Pearl; Lin vanished into the void and shifted ten thousand li away. Ten breaths later a black-clad man arrived—black hair, razor-sharp eyes, a powerful aura. He scanned the area and found nothing, frowning. "Gone?"
He raised a hand and rewound time; what had happened here replayed. Lin was surprised—he hadn't thought of erasing the time imprint. In the rewind, Lin's figure appeared. Thankfully he'd done nothing—just stood there—then disappeared under the Pearl. Even time reversal couldn't touch the Pearl; the trail was lost.
"A human at Chaos Realm—Great Completion, looks Central Domain," the man murmured, sounding slightly more at ease. The Central and Lower Domains get along—on paper they're allies—so a Central cultivator here isn't odd. He relaxed a bit and left.
"The Lower Domain's on edge," Lin muttered. He'd only been here moments and a pre-Supreme had rushed over. Those aren't common foot soldiers—you don't just snap your fingers and one appears. Something must be going on.
Woom! Space rippled—visible waves spread from afar, racing on in all directions.
"What is that?" Lin frowned.
"Skyscreen space power," Little Tree said. "Something happened at the Space God-Mountain. I don't know what."
"Xiaopeng, go!" Lin pointed, and they shot off.
The Lower Domain isn't as big as the Central; among the Four Extremes and Three Domains, it's the smallest. And Lin hadn't arrived at the edge, so with Xiaopeng's speed they could reach the center in at most two months. Along the way, wave after wave of spatial ripples flared—intervals inconsistent, sometimes minutes, sometimes days, each stronger than the last.
They passed many behemoths—flying or pounding along the ground—heading the same way. Lower-Domain beasts were bizarre in form and without exception black-red, as if bathed in blood. They were stronger than beasts elsewhere; the closer to center, the more numerous.
A month in, Xiaopeng had covered half the distance when a violent energy surge erupted ahead. Blood arrowed like spears; space twisted; the blood warped through the folds and fell as a torrential rain. Each droplet from the giants was a river, sweeping toward them. The Hidden Spirit Pearl hides you; it doesn't make you non-existent—blood could still hit them, though on contact the Pearl would make it disappear. Careful eyes could spot that flaw.
There's a fix. Little Tree shifted them into another spacetime layer; the blood streamed through them as if they weren't there.
Bloody Milky-Way waterfalls scoured heaven and earth. The blood that struck the ground was quickly drunk by the earth and vanished, thickening the nauseating reek.
Soon Lin saw the combatants: a group of gigantic, grotesque Lower-Domain creatures besieging a human woman from the Lower Domain. She was at the Perfection tier and fought well above a normal Perfection, close to a top-tier Perfection. Lower-Domain strength truly lived up to its name. Surrounded by several titans, she didn't yield; her sword ripped the void, sending out countless blades of qi that carved deep, hundred-meter gashes—mere scratches to bodies a hundred thousand meters long. Blood geysered; the power on her sword kept the wounds from closing.
Lin watched for a moment, intending to leave—this level of fight was merely a spectacle to him.
"One Sword Cleaves the Heavens!" she cried. A terrifying phantom blade split sky and earth; before it fell, the ground had already cracked, and the besieging beasts shattered under its force.
"This one has a connection to my sister—or the Lower Domain's inheritance is tied to her." That sword was plainly Lin Mohan's, and more orthodox than the Wine Venerable's version back then—like she had the true transmission. The Wine Venerable's strike looked formidable mainly because he was formidable; he'd grasped some of the blade's truth, but compared to this woman, he fell short—like a pilfered style versus a complete lineage.
If Lin Mohan had left an inheritance here, it wouldn't be impossible.
He'd meant to go, but now he was interested.
The beasts' bodies fell in pieces; blood rained. The woman stood bathed in it, and red mist rose from her—a filtrate of impurities she'd extracted from the blood; she took only the essence and rejected the dregs. There was too much blood on the ground to absorb; it pooled into a sea. She tossed her sword into it.
"Refine!"
With a low command the sea boiled; torrents of blood were drawn into the sword. Her soul force surged into the blade in resonance. Blood spiraled skyward and blanketed the land. Within that canopy a blood-colored sword faintly appeared, humming as its sword-will grew.
"She tempers a sword with blood. Rapid growth, but ultimately external power." Lin shook his head. "Seems my sister's inheritance isn't complete."
He knew what Lin Mohan was like: she never looked twice at outside power; like Lin himself, she sought strength from within. As a sword-cultivator, she was purer still. If she saw this, she'd likely cut the woman down on the spot, so as not to sully her sword-dao.
Lin didn't intervene; this clearly wasn't her first time, and she was practiced at condensing a blood-sword. Stopping her now was pointless.
He recalled what the Blue-Robe had said—no one would be there to protect him anymore. He'd scoffed then, but later saw he had been protected: first by the System in the Life-Forbidden Zone, later by Lin Mohan. She rarely struck, but at crucial moments she always appeared. Seemingly coincidence, it wasn't. Knowing her special identity now, he was sure: becoming his elder sister was no accident, but inevitability. It didn't matter; what mattered was that they were siblings—before and after.
The woman finished draining the blood-sea; the sword-will subsided, its essence exhausted, leaving only dregs. She retrieved her blade and was about to leave when Lin's voice sounded at her ear:
"Your method is wrong."
"Who?!" she snapped, bristling, eyes sweeping the surroundings as her vast soul power churned the void and the leftover blood coiled upward. She found nothing—no one was there.
The voice sounded again: "Don't be nervous. I mean you no harm."
Lin dropped the Pearl's veil and appeared—less than a thousand meters away, practically face to face.
Her sword tip leveled at him. "You're from the Central Domain?"
"Grand Elder Lin Moyu of the Central Alliance, at your service," he said pleasantly. You don't hit a smiling man. Given his courtesy—and his status—she couldn't stay hostile. She glanced at his waist token and saw it was genuine. She dipped her head slightly.
"Youkui of the Lower Domain, well met."
"I didn't mean to peep," Lin said. "It's just that your method of condensing sword-will has some problems."
"You understand swords?" Youkui frowned.
"I do not," Lin said.
"Then why say my method has problems?"
"I don't understand swords—but I understand the Great Sword Sovereign," Lin replied.
"Chaos-Realm Great Completion… I don't know how you became a Grand Elder, but to claim you 'understand' the Great Sword Sovereign—ridiculous," she sniffed.
"I'm only telling the truth—believe it or don't," Lin smiled. "If I'm not mistaken, your inheritance is missing pieces. That method for condensing sword-will—you made it up yourselves. It isn't in the original teachings."
Her brow tightened—he was right. Lin saw her look and knew he'd hit the mark.
"I have some ties to the Great Sword Sovereign," he said, "so I'll offer a word. If you don't care to hear it, I'll be on my way."
He turned as if to leave.
"Elder Lin, wait," Youkui blurted. "Please… enlighten me."
Right or wrong, she lost nothing by hearing him out.
"It's simple," Lin said. "The Great Sword Sovereign had one defining trait: she never borrowed from outside—she sought everything from herself. In all things."