Chapter 153: The Lady of the Underworld Wants to Drink Oil
The man named Zhao Gao wore black court robes, ornate to the point of arrogance. His crown and belt ornaments alone declared an origin beyond the reach of ordinary officials.
And yet, before the figure seated above, Zhao Gao did not dare raise his voice by even half a beat.
Because no matter how extraordinary his standing was, no matter that he served within Great Qin's inner court and oversaw the imperial carriages, he was still nothing more than a firefly trying to compete with the moon.
The person before him was the King of Qin.
The young sovereign who intended to bring all under Heaven beneath one law.
Zhao Gao lowered his head, his respectful reply echoing through the vast hall.
"This humble servant once heard that before the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors, there existed an age of myth. Mystery was abundant, spirits and gods walked openly, and humans and the divine shared the same horizon."
"Later, after Emperor Zhuanxu severed the connection between Heaven and Earth, the divine retreated. It is said they withdrew beyond the seas, to immortal isles such as Penglai, hiding from the mortal world. Only a small portion remained to walk among men."
He paused, then continued carefully.
"And after the fall of Shang and the rise of Zhou, even those who still wandered among humanity faded from sight. Later generations call it the Investiture, when the old names were set in order and the path between men and gods grew distant."
Even so, he did not dare imply certainty. In matters of myth, certainty could be a blade that cut the speaker first.
"Yet seekers of immortality have never ceased."
"It is said that in the State of Qi there is a fangshi named Xu Fu, skilled in talismans and the reading of omens. She often sails east to search for the immortal isles. Recently, she departed again, and has yet to return."
"Penglai…" the King of Qin repeated softly.
A faint amusement tugged at the edge of his young yet solemn face.
"This Xu Fu is interesting. Keep an eye on her. If the opportunity arises, bring her to Xianyang."
Then, his gaze sharpened, as if the sword in his words had already been drawn.
"Tell me."
"If This King unifies the Nine Provinces, and then points the Qin sword at the immortals and gods, what will happen?"
Zhao Gao's heart tightened. He knew what answer was required, and he knew what kind of man sat above him.
"My King is magnificent."
The King of Qin laughed, the sound rolling through the hall like a chariot passing over stone.
"Magnificent or not will depend on whether This King's sword is sharp enough."
He stepped forward. Each footfall struck Zhao Gao's nerves with the certainty of a drumbeat.
"Send word to Li Si. Summon the generals. Li Xin, Wang Jian, Meng Tian. Have them set the strategy."
"Within ten years, This King wants to see Great Qin's banners sweep east and subjugate the realm."
"And then…"
His voice lowered, but the ambition only grew heavier.
"We will look beyond the realm."
"We will reach the immortal isles."
"We will make even the hidden ones submit."
"Long live the King. Long live Great Qin!"
The acclamations rose like a tide.
Outside the palace, the rising sun poured its brilliant morning light over Xianyang, turning its terraces and halls into a sea of gold.
On the shore of the Eastern Sea, beneath a morning mist that refused to lift, ancient trees swayed in vague silhouettes.
A person rubbed her ruby red eyes, long black hair spilling out like ink.
"It's morning…"
"This sleep lasted a very, very long time…"
…
Within the Primordial Highest Heaven, Rowe opened his eyes.
Having become a true primordial existence and reached the planet's apex, he should not have been able to dream. Dreams were the leftover weakness of living consciousness.
And yet, for a brief instant, he had dreamt.
A dream that would have been a nightmare for anyone else.
For him, it was a good omen.
In the dream, he died.
Crushed into dust by chaotic and unknowable light and shadow, his body erased, his soul shattered, even the outer shell of his existence peeled away layer by layer until only a pure imprint remained, a single spiritual core etched into the void.
It was a dream.
And also a premonition.
Rowe steadied his breathing and held onto that sensation for a moment longer, savoring it like a taste that promised a future meal.
Then a voice, worried and soft, pulled him back.
"Rowe… is something wrong?"
He met a pair of eyes full of confusion and concern.
Ereshkigal leaned slightly forward, her red shawl swaying with the motion. With her legs crossed, her waist wrapped in black fabric, her posture made it seem as though she might lose balance at any second.
The Underworld Goddess of Mesopotamia stared at him as if he might break.
"Are you alright?"
She hesitated, searching for the ways humans checked one another's health.
Then, with a seriousness that did not match the clumsy tenderness of the act, she brought her forehead forward and pressed it to his.
Warmth passed between them.
Rowe froze.
Ereshkigal was too close. Her face, exquisitely beautiful, was within reach. Her red lips looked dangerously soft.
"Ugh!?"
The girl blanked out for an instant, then abruptly realized how improper her actions were.
Her body tensed. She tried to pull away.
Rowe did not let her.
He tilted his face upward.
"Ugh!?"
Their lips met.
Firm, sudden, invasive.
The Underworld Goddess' face turned a scorching red. She struggled slightly, but her hands did not push him away with any conviction.
A moment later, they parted, both of them breathing a little too quickly.
Rowe laughed, low and satisfied.
"Something was wrong just now. It's fine now."
He looked at her with a calmness that was, frankly, unfair.
"It's fine with you here."
"You hateful guy…" Ereshkigal's voice shook.
Heat seemed to rise from the top of her head.
Rowe was not the one in trouble.
Now it was her.
And yet, if it was this kind of trouble, she was not entirely opposed to it happening again.
Rowe stood and pulled up the limp Ereshkigal.
She swayed, still not steady, and ended up leaning against him without even pretending it was an accident.
"Where is Mother?"
"Mother… went to sleep," Ereshkigal answered, quieter.
Rowe lifted an eyebrow.
"Sleep? Is she transforming?"
He looked around.
The chaotic environment of the Primordial Highest Heaven had stabilized compared to before. More lava had cooled. The mist was settling, and something like circulation was beginning to form, as if the world was finally learning how to breathe.
Tiamat was a primordial Mother Goddess, the Sea of Chaos itself. Even living things evolve. The earliest life crawled out of the ocean and multiplied into countless species.
Gods could evolve too.
Most primordial gods simply never lived long enough to reach that point.
Tiamat had been betrayed and exiled by the gods of Mesopotamia, denied the chance to awaken fully.
But this Primordial Highest Heaven had given her another path.
As the environment stabilized, she stabilized with it.
So she slept, rarely waking.
"I envy Mother's ability to grow stronger…" Ereshkigal muttered.
The primordial Mother Goddess was already far stronger than her, yet still had room to become stronger.
As an established goddess of the Underworld, Ereshkigal felt her growth had become narrow over the long years.
She was still one step away from the seat of a regional God King.
"There will be a chance," Rowe said, tone casual, then added without thinking, "and I won't dislike you for being weak."
Ereshkigal's eyes narrowed.
"You still think I'm weak."
Rowe looked at her as if the answer was obvious.
"Otherwise?"
"You…"
Ereshkigal did not finish.
Because Rowe stole her mouth again.
When they parted, her cheeks were blazing.
"If you weren't weak, how could I bully you like this?" Rowe said, pleased with himself.
Ereshkigal bared her teeth, furious and flustered all at once.
"When I get stronger," she declared, voice trembling with stubborn pride, "I'll do this to you too!"
Rowe blinked, then burst into laughter.
He took her hand and began to walk forward.
There was no scenery worth praising in this half formed world of mist and molten land, but Ereshkigal still thought the moment was beautiful.
After a while, she spoke again, gaze turned slightly aside.
"Are you leaving?"
"Mm," Rowe said. "There are things I still need to do."
"Is it something I can't help with?" The disappointment in her voice was small, but honest.
"Mm." Rowe nodded again, then paused and added more quietly.
"Your existence is my greatest help."
He pulled her into an embrace, slow and deliberate.
"Because with you in this world, I have a home."
"And I will make you stronger."
Ereshkigal's heartbeat went wild. The happiness in her eyes was undeniable.
Only when Rowe's figure vanished, and only when his voice drifted back with the words, "Help me bid farewell to Mother while she sleeps. I'll be back soon," did Ereshkigal finally jolt.
Something about his phrasing felt… dangerous.
Rowe, already gone, did not know the Underworld had quietly gained a new kind of threat.
…
Leaving the Primordial Highest Heaven, Rowe appeared above the planet's atmosphere.
The newborn morning sun cast shimmering light over the sea. Seagulls cut through the clouds.
Rowe stood suspended, though in truth he existed within an interlayer, a seam between the world and what lay beside it.
The dream still clung to him. The sensation of death was a hook in his mind, and the danger promised in that dream was precisely what he desired.
That danger was in the East.
In Shenzhou.
In China.
Even if this was another world, similar only on the surface, the pull was still there.
His thoughts drifted.
His body descended.
He crossed dimensions and the atmosphere that wrapped the planet, heading toward the Eastern Sea of Shenzhou.
The currents below were swift and violent. Schools of fish rolled like shadows. Giant sharks circled.
Occasionally, a sky reaching Kun erupted from the waters, raising a pillar of sea that seemed to connect heaven and earth.
Then, a crash.
The machina god manifested.
The sea surface stilled, and all life fell silent.
Rowe's machina body descended onto the sea, landing on the head of the Kun.
The Kun screamed.
Its massive form shattered into cloud vapor, dispersing like a false image collapsing under the weight of truth.
Rowe released a satisfied breath.
"As expected."
That Kun had been an illusion, woven from mist and vapor like a mirage. Only by tearing it apart could he expose what lay behind it.
Engines roared. Heat like molten flame rose from within him.
Rowe spread his hands, seized the remaining cloud layer, and pulled.
A creaking sound echoed, like a door being forced open.
The clouds peeled back.
And behind them stood a tree.
A divine tree rooted in the sea, its canopy flourishing with crystalline branches that shimmered with golden light. Its presence dragged soil into existence, a land woven from roots.
Rowe stepped onto that ground and looked up.
Even as a towering machina god, he was still far shorter than this tree.
Undeniably divine.
"Myths say that to the east of Shenzhou stands the Fusang," Rowe murmured, memories surfacing.
"The place where the sun rises…"
Was this the source of the danger he sensed?
Before he could decide, a small, furious voice reached him.
"You… you bastard… let me out…"
Rowe paused.
Then slowly lifted his foot.
"Under your foot, you bastard!"
"Oh." Rowe finally reacted.
His gaze dropped.
At his feet lay a young woman, beautiful in a way that felt unreal. Ink black hair, ruby eyes, white brocade clinging to her form.
Yet Rowe knew at once.
She was neither human nor god.
Her existence resonated with the planet itself.
"A materialized land spirit," Rowe said. "My apologies. You were too small. I didn't notice."
"Insolent giant." She clicked her tongue. "Are you some Highest God from who knows where? Hmph. Never mind."
"I just woke up and you stepped on me."
"So annoying. So annoying. So annoying."
Then she bared small fangs and made an outrageous demand with complete confidence.
"If you want to apologize, give me some of your blood."
"I'm hungry anyway. Out of respect for you being a Highest God, I'll reluctantly accept that as compensation!"
Rowe's expression turned strange.
"My blood?" he repeated.
"Are you sure?"
"Hmph, unwilling? Then forget it!" Her temper flared instantly. "Highest Gods or whatever, I've seen plenty. I'm not unfamiliar with the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors."
"I don't care about your blood at all!"
Rowe hesitated.
Then chose to indulge her.
He extended a finger.
A single drop of golden yellow liquid formed at the tip.
Divinity overflowed.
The girl's face froze, instinct taking over. She licked her lips and caught the drop carefully.
"Good. At least you're sensible."
She swallowed it.
Then immediately spat it out like she had swallowed fire.
"What is this!?"
Rowe laughed.
Soft at first.
Then louder.
So loud it carried over the sea.
"A strange request," he said, amused. "I've truly never seen one."
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