Chapter 1186: Answering the Calamity

Chapter 1186: Bearing the Calamity

The River of Divine Blood was formed from the blood of countless deities slain long ago in the Fifth Star Ring. Within it lay not only the Divine Flame Realm but also numerous divine altars—and even true gods had perished here in great numbers.

Several Sovereign Deities themselves remained entombed within!

Thus, this river brimmed with an intensely concentrated foreign essence, steeped in overwhelming divine resentment and deathly aura.

Though the entire blood river was suppressed by seals along both banks—like a vengeful dragon chained—it remained utterly confined to this place.

This prevented its corrupting essence and malevolence from spreading outward or invading the surrounding realms. Yet…

any cultivator who dared enter its waters would inevitably be assailed.

Their body and soul would become tainted, and worse—they might incur karmic entanglements with fallen deities, casting long shadows over their future.

Only those who had attained the realm of Quasi-Immortal Emperor possessed the bare qualification to cross the Divine Blood River without a vessel.

But even that was merely a qualification.

For such a crossing carried immense peril.

One danger stemmed from the river’s contaminating divine essence; the other arose from the river’s own uncanny anomalies.

So many gods had died here. Over countless eons, no one knew whether monstrous abominations—divine spawn born of corruption—had emerged within these crimson depths.

Or perhaps something even more terrifying had awakened.

Thus, even Quasi-Immortal Emperors crossed this river with utmost caution, ever vigilant.

Unless absolutely necessary, none would willingly choose this path.

Of course, when passage became unavoidable, boarding a Ferryboat was naturally the wisest choice.

Hence arose the Ferryman.

Yet their role was not truly to ferry—but to patrol.

And the Ferryboat itself was their instrument!

Each vessel was a supreme treasure specially forged to subdue divine entities.

As it sailed upon the blood river, it naturally emanated a suppressing aura, veiled yet potent.

To pilot this boat, patrol the river, and suppress divine abominations—that was the Ferryman’s purpose here.

It was also their path of atonement.

And now, before Xu Qing floated precisely such a Ferryboat—a gift left for him by Linghuang Immortal Maiden!

Crafted long ago by her father, the Nine-Shore Immortal Sovereign, for his beloved daughter.

Gazing upon the vessel, Xu Qing’s eyes grew deep and thoughtful.

He understood the true meaning behind Linghuang’s gift.

“A way out… for me,” he murmured inwardly.

This Ferryboat conferred an identity—the identity of a Ferryman seeking redemption.

Though Xu Qing was not yet a Ferryman, should he one day commit some grave transgression within the Fifth Star Ring…

Then this very boat, forged by the Nine-Shore Immortal Sovereign, might become his sole chance for survival.

After a long silence, Xu Qing drew a deep breath and bowed toward the heavens.

Then he stepped forward—placing his foot upon the dark, weathered deck of the vessel.

The moment he stood upon it, the boat trembled, releasing thick black vapors that enveloped him completely.

An incense stick’s time passed—until man and vessel seemed fused as one.

Xu Qing then took up a straw raincoat and draped it over himself, picked up a bamboo hat, and settled it upon his head.

He sat down cross-legged.

An aura of ancient time seeped from the raincoat and hat, mingling with the black mist to shroud him entirely, concealing all traces of his presence.

From afar, he now appeared indistinguishable from a true Ferryman—utterly still, unmoving.

He waited—to see if any fish might truly take the bait.

At the same time, he probed the vessel’s inner structure and essence. Boats were no strangers to him.

Thus time flowed. Ten days passed.

Along the banks of the Divine Blood River, a brilliant arc of light tore through heaven and earth at astonishing speed—

Within that radiance stood a young man.

Pale-faced and frail, his body weakened—he was none other than Xinghuanzi!

In the end, he had chosen this path—the Divine Blood River. Though not the only route available, something deep within him whispered that this was the safest, most reliable way.

So he came.

As he drew nearer, that sense of safety and certainty grew stronger—especially when he spotted a Ferryboat moored at the riverbank. A faint sigh of relief escaped his heart.

His flight had exhausted him utterly—body, cultivation, and spirit alike.

Though his Star Pagoda had twice taken death in his stead, each resurrection left him weaker than before.

Especially the second death—it had been deliberate.

Suspecting Xu Qing had somehow locked onto him, he’d decisively sacrificed a life to sever their karmic thread and erase all traces.

To make it convincing, the price he paid that time had been especially steep. Even after ten days, he had yet to recover.

“Though my cultivation grants me the right to cross this river unaided, my current weakness leaves me vulnerable to its corruption. And should dangers arise from the river itself, I lack the strength to suppress them.”

“Thus, boarding a Ferryboat is my best option.”

“Fortunately, I’ve never ridden one before.”

With these thoughts swirling in his mind, Xinghuanzi did not slow his pace. In a flash, the radiant streak he rode vaulted across space—appearing atop the riverside pier. With a single step, he boarded the Ferryboat.

The instant he set foot aboard, an overwhelming sense of absolute safety washed over him, and he exhaled a long, relieved breath.

He then respectfully bowed toward the figure seated ahead—cloaked in straw, shrouded in black mist.

“Respected elder, I beg you to set sail.”

The cloaked figure said nothing—but the boat gave a slight shudder, drifting slowly from the shore and gliding into the blood-red river.

Gradually, it pulled away from the pier.

Deeper and deeper it sailed—until the riverbank vanished entirely from view.

Amidst churning crimson waves, howling gales outside the hull, and the suffocating miasma of divine corruption, Xinghuanzi finally let his guard fall completely.

Seated there, he turned to gaze westward toward the Western Star Domain, his eyes sharpening with resolve.

He whispered softly:

“Xu Qing… our battle is not yet finished.”

“You’re absolutely right.”

The figure in the straw rain cape spoke, his voice faint.

At those words, Xinghuanzi froze for a moment—then whipped his head around, his expression transforming instantly. Within him surged disbelief and terror, rising like a tidal wave.

He shot to his feet from his cross-legged position. “Your voice… you… you…”

The figure in the straw rain cape removed his bamboo hat. Black mist roiled outward from his body, revealing his face.

“I’ve been waiting for you a long time.”

A thunderous roar exploded inside Xinghuanzi’s mind. In that instant, the sound of crashing waves, the howl of wind across heaven and earth—all vanished. Only the deafening detonation remained, as if millions upon millions of celestial thunderbolts had shattered at once.

He could not believe it. He dared not believe it. A sense of utter absurdity gripped him.

The man before him was none other than Xu Qing!

And deep within the unseen currents of fate, that earlier premonition—that his journey toward the Divine Blood River would be safe—resurfaced once more.

But this time… within that intuition echoed an ancient, achingly familiar voice:

“Face your tribulation.”

One moon’s abode.

On the southern shore of the Divine Blood River,

a black, battered ferry drifted silently into dock beside the pier.

From it stepped only Xu Qing.

Faintly visible, drifting about him, was a single speck—floating, sinking—the dust of Heavenly Principle.

This volume, Winter Solstice, concludes.

The next volume, titled Grain in Ear, requires organizing its outline and clarifying its direction. I shall take a day off tomorrow.