Chapter 7 Death God Douluo, Ye Xishui.
Feiyan heard this and her scarlet eyes instantly ignited with a furious flame. As the third elder of the Holy Spirit Sect, who dared to disrespect her like this?
The terrifying soul power fluctuations around her were about to erupt, but suddenly froze.
This voice... why does it sound so familiar?
A fear originating from her life instinct poured down like ice water, instantly extinguishing her boiling killing intent.
She turned her gaze with difficulty, looking at the source of the voice—only to see that, without her noticing, a stunningly beautiful and graceful figure had quietly stood before Xia Die.
The person wore a simple black dress, with an unparalleled beauty, but her temperament was as unfathomable as an abyss. Just by standing there, the surrounding light seemed to be swallowed up, and space itself seemed to distort slightly.
The moment Feiyan saw the person's face clearly, fine beads of cold sweat instantly appeared on her forehead, and her petite body even trembled uncontrollably.
Almost reflexively, she bowed deeply, her voice filled with unprecedented awe and fear:
"Greetings, Supreme Master!"
The trembling members of the Holy Spirit Cult beside her also knelt, heads bowed, utterly respectful.
The newcomer was none other than the pillar of the Holy Spirit Cult, one of its true controllers, a level 99 Limit Douluo—the Death God Douluo, Ye Xishui.
Ye Xishui didn't even glance at Fei Yan, who remained bowed. Her deep gaze, now filled with an almost gentle scrutiny, fell upon Xia Die, who was barely standing, a trace of blood still clinging to the corner of her mouth.
"Child," Ye Xishui's voice softened considerably, a stark contrast to the soul-stirring authority of moments before.
"Tell me, are you willing to become my disciple?"
From Fei Yan's respectful address and attitude, Xia Die instantly understood the identity of the stunningly beautiful woman before her.
The supreme leader of the Holy Spirit Cult, a Limit Douluo standing at the pinnacle of the continent.
Her heart pounded violently in her chest.
Xia Die's thoughts raced in a flash.
Becoming an evil soul master was absolutely not her wish; stepping into this filthy, dark lair was the worst possible misfortune.
But she knew even more clearly what an unyielding will lay behind Ye Xishui's seemingly gentle inquiry.
Don't be fooled by her current amiable demeanor; if she dared to utter a single word of refusal, her fate would be a thousand times more miserable than becoming an evil soul master.
As far as she knew, this Death God Douluo's temperament could no longer be judged by ordinary standards; his current regard stemmed solely from her talent and her terrifyingly fragile physique.
Discretion is the better part of valor.
This principle, in any world, is an ironclad law of survival.
Becoming an evil soul master didn't necessarily mean following that bloody and cruel path of cultivation, feeding on the souls and flesh of the living.
She had her bottom line, and her reliance—the existence of the Death Ruler, Ronawa, and the death authority represented by Xia Die herself, which might allow her to forge a different path.
More importantly, the Holy Spirit Cult's influence was deeply entrenched, spreading across the continent, with countless powerful figures.
If she could establish herself here as Xia Die, even attaining a high position, it might provide unexpected assistance and intelligence to her original self, Yin Chen, who was far away in the Star Luo Empire, of low status and with almost no background.
After all, her original self possessed almost nothing except a seemingly astonishing talent.
And a genius is only worthy of being called a genius once they live to mature.
All the weighing was completed in an instant.
Xia Die raised her pale face, her amethyst eyes meeting Ye Xishui's unfathomable gaze. Without hesitation, she endured the pain from the impact and respectfully replied, "Disciple Xia Die is willing to become the disciple of the Supreme Master."
She knelt, about to perform the disciple-acceptance ceremony to Ye Xishui.
Ye Xishui looked at Xia Die's resolute posture, a genuine smile of pleasure appearing on her beautiful face.
She gently raised her hand, a soft yet irresistible force supporting Xia Die's kneeling figure.
"Very good."
Ye Xishui's voice was filled with satisfaction.
"From this day forward, you will be my last disciple, Ye Xishui's last disciple."
Her gaze swept over Fei Yan, who remained bowed and dared not even breathe, and the surrounding evil spirit masters who were trembling with fear, and she said indifferently, "Disperse, all of you. Fei Yan, I've taken your disciple, you won't have any objections, will you?"
"Fei Yan wouldn't dare."
Fei Yan quickly lowered her head and said, how could she dare to complain? She could distinguish between her disciple and her life.
Ye Xishui said no more, gently taking Xia Die's small hand in hers—she was clearly prepared, a faint halo of light swirling around her fair fingertips, skillfully isolating her from the terrifying corrosive power of death.
She had obviously witnessed Fei Yan's earlier disarray and knew to avoid physical contact with Xia Die.
Although she was curious about Xia Die's peculiar constitution, even if she were to test it, it had to be done when no one was around. What would become of her dignity as the Supreme Leader if things went wrong?
"Come with me." As soon as she finished speaking, their figures blurred like ghosts, disappearing from the spot in the next instant, leaving behind a group of shaken evil spirit masters and Fei Yan with complex expressions, standing there, unable to calm down for a long time.
Ye Xishui, holding Xia Die's hand, took a step forward, and the surrounding scenery distorted and shifted like ripples on water.
No longer was it the oppressive dark green of the Demon Forest; instead, there was a wide but eerie passageway extending downwards.
The walls were inlaid with phosphorescent flint that emitted an eerie green or pale white glow, illuminating the path ahead like a road to the underworld.
The air was thick with the stench of blood, the bitterness of herbs, and a faint, almost imperceptible, murmur of resentment, like the weeping of countless souls—a chilling stench.
Occasionally, they encountered black-robed evil spirit masters along the way. Upon seeing Ye Xishui, they all froze, heads bowed low, even their breathing cautious, only daring to move slightly after the two had walked for some time.
They passed through archways built of white skeletons, crossed channels flowing with a dark red, viscous liquid, and finally arrived at a vast underground space.
It resembled an inverted demon city, with countless bizarre buildings constructed primarily of obsidian and bone, standing side by side. At the center, a towering black hall, like a lurking beast, exuded a terrifying pressure.
This was the true core of the Holy Spirit Cult—the underground headquarters, Netherworld City.
Ye Xishui didn't linger, directly leading Xia Die into the most magnificent black hall.
The hall's interior was extremely spacious, with a high-hanging dome adorned with enormous murals depicting death, slaughter, and dark rituals.
Two rows of evil soul masters, each with a different form but exuding a powerful and sinister aura, stood solemnly on either side. At the far end of the hall, atop a throne carved from a complete dragon's skull, sat a middle-aged man in a dark gold robe with a sinister face. Beside him stood a woman in black, with a bewitching beauty and sharp eyes.
(End of Chapter)