Chapter 385 - Journey To The Northern Continent

“The things you obtained on the floating island, we won’t check them. You can keep them,” the red-robed elder said. “I have no intention of becoming your enemy.”

As he spoke, the powerful aura of the Empyrean Meridian Realm erupted around him, sacred pressure flooding the area.

Though he was softening toward Xu Zimo, he also used it as a warning, he wasn’t someone to be messed with.

“But we’re already enemies,” Xu Zimo said calmly.

He ignored the elder’s pressure, dragging the edge of his saber Shadow Tyrant across the deck.

The scraping sound echoed all around, and a glaring white line marked his path on the deck.

...

The ship was deathly silent.

People stood by quietly, afraid to speak, watching the confrontation.

“Are you declaring war on my Ning Clan, young master?” the red-robed elder asked, squinting.

His aura spread out like waves, swirling around him.

Xu Zimo didn’t reply. Instead, he turned to the crowd and asked, “Can any of you pilot this ship?”

After a brief silence, a man in a blue robe stepped forward.

“I can,” he said weakly.

“Good. Then I can kill them all without worry,” Xu Zimo chuckled.

Shadow Tyrant trembled in his hand, as if excited.

Xu Zimo held the curved blade, eyes locked on the red-robed elder.

His aura grew stronger, his veins unlocking one by one.

“Springwheel, Deepbone, Dawnwind, Vastsea, Bloodveil.”

And the seventh meridian gate, “Voidverge.”

The moment the seventh gate opened, sacred energy surged like a river.

The full power of the peak Empyrean Meridian Realm erupted.

The elder’s expression changed drastically.

He himself had only just entered the Empyrean Meridian level.

Seeing this scene, the red-robed elder didn’t even think about fighting back.

He turned and fled into the sky without hesitation.

He moved fast, leaving behind afterimages, fleeing like a red streak.

“You think you can run?” Xu Zimo smiled.

He swung Shadow Tyrant with incredible speed, forming a streak of light.

Endless pressure radiated from the saber.

The sky was filled with a towering blade light.

With a loud boom, the blade light descended slowly.

To the crowd, it looked like it fell in slow motion.

But space itself seemed to freeze at that moment.

No matter how hard the elder tried, he couldn’t escape the strike.

A scream echoed in the air. Even though the red-robed elder kept dodging, his body was still one-third sliced away from the left shoulder down.

The blade light didn’t slow, cutting through the sky, shattering layers of space, and slamming into the sea below.

Boom! Water exploded a hundred meters high.

Waves surged for miles. A vacuum split open across the sea.

But the red-robed elder didn’t die.

That was the strength of the Empyrean Meridian Realm, his body’s healing and endurance far exceeded ordinary limits.

As long as the soul remained intact, even the most serious injuries could slowly recover.

Xu Zimo waved his right hand. The Immortal-Suppression Chain flew out, wrapped around the red-robed elder, and dragged him back to the deck.

...

Bang!

His body slammed onto the deck, eyes half-closed, disheveled.

“Spare me. I surrender,” he shouted. “Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”

To most cultivators, the longer they lived, the more they feared death.

They had worked so hard to reach their current level, fought for their future, and enjoyed luxury and power.

All of that was reason enough not to want to die.

In truth, those who truly pursued the martial path without fear of death were rare.

“You don’t seem to have anything worth your life,” Xu Zimo said coldly.

“I’m the Second Elder of the Ning Clan. If you let me go, I still have influence,” the elder pleaded.

“Does the Ning Clan have any Immortal Path cultivators?” Xu Zimo asked.

The elder fell silent.

Immortal Path cultivators weren’t common vegetables. How could the Ning Clan have one?

In reality, on the Primordial Heartlands, most Immortals came from major powers like the Imperial Lineages.

Among rogue cultivators or small factions, becoming Immortal was nearly impossible.

Just like the saying: “It’s hard for the poor to produce champions.”

“How about we play a game? Leave it to fate?” Xu Zimo suddenly smiled.

“What game?” the elder asked warily.

Xu Zimo chuckled, then waved his hand.

The Immortal-Suppression Chain started to move, dragging the red-robed elder into the ocean behind the ship.

One end of the chain was tied to the elder, the other to the back of the ship.

As the ship moved forward, the elder was dragged through the sea like bait.

“There are a lot of terrifying creatures in the Endless Sky Sea,” Xu Zimo said. “I’ll drag you behind the ship. If you’re still alive when we reach the Northern Continent, I’ll let it go. And if something eats you… oh well, blame your bad luck.”

Saltwater poured into the elder’s nose and mouth as he screamed, “You’re vicious!”

“Good luck,” Xu Zimo said with a laugh, turning away.

...

As Xu Zimo stepped back onto the deck, the remaining passengers rushed to thank him, all trying to get on his good side.

Xu Zimo glanced at them coldly.

“I just killed him,” he said. “You think that means you’re safe? Hand over whatever you got from the floating island. Anyone who stalls, don’t expect mercy.”

The crowd’s cheerful faces immediately froze.

Everyone suddenly remembered a saying, escaped the wolf’s den, ran into the tiger’s jaws.

They had just witnessed how ruthless Xu Zimo could be.

No one dared delay. One by one, they handed over what they had taken from the island.

Xu Zimo looked through it.

Most of the items were unimpressive, just weapons or odd remnants.

But they contained demonic energy he could absorb,

helping him further understand his connection with the Hell-Suppressing Demon Body.

After collecting everything, Xu Zimo’s expression grew calm.

He walked toward the one-armed old man.

The old man was quietly watching the sea. When he saw Xu Zimo approaching, he smiled faintly.

“Every generation brings forth new talent,” he said with a slight sigh.