Chapter 114: The Throne of the Underworld Crow

In an unnamed gray space, surrounded by the bleached bones of monstrous beasts, an oppressive silence pervaded, casting a grim and eerie atmosphere. Above, a gray throne stood, intricately carved with a bird-like demon beast, strikingly similar to the Nether Crow that Lu Han had once summoned.

At the center of this space lay two figures unconscious upon the skeletal remains: a young man in white robes and a disheveled, graying-haired man. They were none other than Lu Han and that strange man.

Suddenly, a translucent figure slowly materialized above the throne. It resembled the old man Ling’s apparition but bore subtle differences. This figure appeared to be in his thirties, donned in a flowing cyan robe. His handsome face bore a gentle smile, while his sharp eyes opened, emitting an invisible aura that filled the entire space. His form fluctuated between clarity and vagueness, at times seeming almost nonexistent.

The transparent figure spread his hands and murmured, “This consciousness won’t last much longer.”

Glancing down at Lu Han, it seemed he had uncovered Lu Han’s secret.

“Is it because he has mastered our clan’s martial art? With mediocre aptitude… Hm, this is… Although altered, this aura is unmistakable.”

The figure on the throne extended a hand, and the mysterious cold pearl within Lu Han’s third eye slowly surfaced.

“No wonder many have sensed my Nether Crow Throne before. So that’s how it is. Though transformed, since you possess it, it is your destiny. Interesting. The Ice Old Monster’s ring—no wonder it feels familiar. There’s also a faint soul trapped within, but it seems severely injured.”

With that, the cold pearl twirled and returned to Lu Han’s third eye.

The figure waved a hand, releasing a surge of gray energy that struck Lu Han. His wounds visibly began to heal at an astonishing rate.

Suddenly, Lu Han’s index finger twitched, and he struggled to open his eyes, clutching his throbbing head.

“Am I dead?” he muttered, looking around at the scattered bones.

“No... that can’t be right!” Lu Han suddenly jolted awake, feeling the sharp pain in his chest. But where was he?

He recalled that when seriously wounded by Tan Jun and on the verge of death, a massive gray claw had appeared, taking him away before he lost consciousness.

Struggling to sit up, Lu Han looked up and saw the figure seated upon the throne above. For some reason, an inexplicable reverence welled up within him, urging him to kneel.

At that moment, the mysterious cold pearl in his third eye pulsed, spreading a refreshing coolness through his body, and Lu Han straightened up fully.

The figure on the throne sensed this, smiling as he shook his head.

“Poor kid, can’t let him suffer too much. After all, I did save his life.”

“Thank you, senior, for saving me,” Lu Han said, stepping forward and clasping his fists respectfully.

“Oh? This has nothing to do with me. If you must thank someone, thank it,” the figure replied with a warm smile, patting the throne beneath him.

“It?” Lu Han asked in confusion.

“Yes. This is merely a fragment of my consciousness left behind in the Nether Crow Throne. I cannot truly save you. Soon, this consciousness will dissipate completely.”

“Then why did it choose to save me?”

“Boy, don’t you realize you’ve mastered my clan’s martial art?”

“Martial art?” Lu Han quickly understood.

“Are you referring to the ‘Ten Absolute Nether Crow Finger’?” the figure smiled and nodded.

“I’m curious how you learned a martial art of my clan,” he added.

The ‘Ten Absolute Nether Crow Finger’ was something Ling the old man had once advised Lu Han to acquire; it wasn’t a secret. Lu Han recounted his experience on Trade Street.

“Only one copy? Seems my ‘Nether Crow Soul Classic’ has been shattered into fragments since ancient times,” the figure murmured.

Suddenly, within the deep blue ring on Lu Han’s finger, the old man Ling sat cross-legged, eyes closed. His transparent form was on the verge of collapse.

“Hm?” The figure on the throne sensed something and waved his hand.

Ling was forcibly drawn out from the ring, floating in midair.

“Who is this little one to you?”

“Discovered after all,” Ling thought bitterly.

He was extremely weak now; even speaking was a struggle. He had hoped that sealing himself within the ring would hide him, but evidently not.

Lu Han twitched at the nickname.

“Little one?”

His master, the old man Ling, had been imprisoned in that cavern for who knew how long, yet someone had the audacity to call him that.

“He is my master!” Lu Han declared.

“Oh? Your master’s condition seems dire. Within three days, his soul will collapse. Even exceptional talents can’t save him.”

Boom! It was like a thunderclap.

Though Lu Han always called him ‘old man Ling,’ the master was still the person he respected above all else.

“Three days? That can’t be. Master never told me this,” Lu Han said in disbelief.

The figure on the throne waved again, sending a gray energy wave toward Ling. The old man’s deteriorating form began to stabilize.

Ling felt the spiritual power within him replenished, gradually regaining vitality.

“Han, what the elder said is true. I kept it from you to prevent distraction. Now that you have the blood of the Soul-Stealing Mink, I have fewer worries,” Ling said weakly.

Ling had already left instructions—a new scroll was hidden within the blue ring, containing his origins and everything he wished to pass on to Lu Han.

“No, no, there must be a way!” Lu Han, who regarded Ling as his closest kin, struggled to accept the blow.

“Han, don’t be so pessimistic. Having you as my disciple in my final moments is a blessing from the heavens. I have no regrets,” Ling managed a faint smile.

“I say, why are you treating this place like a scene of parting between life and death?” the figure on the throne said with a peculiar expression.

“Ah!” Lu Han’s eyes brightened.

Ling was incredibly powerful; to Lu Han, he was the strongest person he had ever met. From his tone, even Earth King-level experts were beneath him. Now, Lu Han addressed him as ‘senior.’

With a sudden thud, Lu Han knelt before the figure on the throne.

“Senior, there must be a way to save my master, right? If you save him, I would gladly serve as your loyal servant.”

“Han…” Ling wanted to say something but hesitated.

“You’re a loyal and righteous boy; no wonder the Nether Crow Throne chose you,” the figure’s handsome face curved into a gentle smile.

Suddenly, the space trembled.

The figure paused, then smiled broadly.

“Xiao Xie has arrived?”