Two weeks later, Jack’s eyes slowly opened. He sensed the restlessness in the camp surrounding him. He smiled.
“It’s time.”
He got up and opened the tent flap—they’d occupied the tents of the defeated disciples—to witness a camp in the middle of deconstruction. Disciples and Elders alike walked with grim faces as if going to war. They waved their hands, sucking the tents into their space rings, then wiping the ground clean of all disturbance.
That last act took Jack by surprise. The space monsters, who cared only about themselves, would wipe the ground after them? Was it manners, or just respect for the Dark Canal?
“What are you looking around for?” Strawpin’s voice reached Jack’s ears. He looked up to find her floating over him. “Gather your tent. We’re departing!”
He smiled, sucking it into his ring like everyone else was doing. Nearby, Brock and Starhair did the same. The three of them took to the air, not forgetting to wipe the ground behind them, and joined the growing lineup of the Great Silver faction.
More so than when they fought the other disciples, Jack had a chance to observe everyone. Besides the three of them, there were six more disciples, all at the peak B-Grade. Ten Elders accompanied them—the peak A-Grade Grand Elder, two late A-Grades, three middle A-Grades, and four early A-Grades. Nineteen people in total. In any other part of the world, their combined auras alone would have devastated the landscape. Here, they only summoned a strong breeze.
The camp was completely recovered in a matter of seconds. The ground was pristine, like they were never there—with the sole exception of the wooden cabin, which even now remained unmoved. Just as everyone gathered in the sky, the cabin door opened. A lone figure stepped out.
It looked similar to the last time Jack had seen it, except smaller. Silver scales, flexible whiskers, deep eyes, sharp teeth and claws. This was Great Silver—a silver dragon, one of the two Overlords of the Space Monster World. His aura was deep like the world. His Dao resonated in a deep bass. He was…irreproachable.
Probably stronger than Archon Summer Noon.
He was also far smaller than last time. His avatar in the Immortal Summit had been huge—right now, he was small enough to fit through the cabin’s door.
Crownbeast could also change his size, Jack realized. Is it an ability of all space monsters? Or just a few?
Great Silver flew to the head of his faction, growing in size to become like a truck. “Let’s go,” he rumbled, not sparing anyone a second look. He shot into the distance—everyone followed.
Their camp had been situated at the edge of the Dark Canal. A vertical cliff awaited just to the side, descending a hundred miles into the darkness. They flew over it. As soon as they passed the edge, Jack felt a cold current flowing from below, infiltrating even his extreme physique. He caught some of the weakest disciples shivering.
Great Silver led the way at a speed that was neither fast nor slow, letting them savor the experience. Endless darkness spread below their feet. Not even Jack’s perception could penetrate it—for the first time since reaching the D-Grade, he felt fear of the dark, as part of the nearby world was hidden from him. The Dark Canal seemed like the place nightmares crawled out of—everything children imagined hid in the dark, it existed in the Dark Canal.
“Spooky,” Brock said in a low voice.
“Damn right,” another disciple replied. “And we haven’t even entered.”
A third disciple piped up. “You should be careful down there, bros. Almost every threat is Autarch-level.”
“Then why are we going in?” Starhair asked.
“We have the Elders. They’ll keep us safe.”
Jack smirked. Brock hadn’t been idle these past two weeks. Every other disciple and even a couple of low-level Elders had been initiated into brohood. The only disciples still resisting were Starhair and Strawpin, who considered brohood distasteful.
“Cringe,” was all Strawpin said.
The Dark Canal was over a thousand miles wide, but they were fast. Only a few minutes later, Jack sensed another group heading their way. He saw them soon after—twenty monsters, just like them, headed by a heavily muscular, gray-skinned humanoid with fierce claws, sharp teeth, and a thick tail swishing behind his back. The lovechild of Predator and Frieza. If devils had a king, this would be him—and he was aptly called the Fiend King.
“Great Silver,” Fiend King called out.
“Fiend King.”
As the two Overlords neared each other, their auras clashed—not aggressively, they were just too great not to rub against each other. The sky was split in two, one half silver and the other dark red, before nature rebalanced itself.
Each Overlord swept his gaze over the other’s disciples.
Jack held his breath. Unless one of the Overlords decided to really scrutinize him, his disguise should hold—but, if it didn’t, he’d die here.
Thankfully, nothing happened. Fiend King’s gaze only stopped on him briefly before moving on.
“New faces,” he said in his dark, sharp voice.
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“We had quite a few talents recently,” Great Silver replied.
“I hope they perform well in the Hall of Trials.”
“So do I, Fiend King.”
As the two Overlords stood face-to-face, their Daos warring routinely in mid-air, the differences between them were sharp. Great Silver was old, wise, and thoughtful. The Fiend King was aggressive, deadly, brutal. So was the group following him. Contrary to the Great Silver faction, the Fiend King elites were made up of devilish monsters, most sporting sharp claws or deadly, drooling fangs. In comparison, Great Silver’s group looked random and mismatched—though they didn’t lose out in actual strength.
The two people Jack paid special attention to were a yellow-eyed, hellhound-looking monster—the Fiend King’s Grand Elder—as well as a humanoid devil similar to Fiend King in appearance, except instead of demonic he was extraordinarily handsome.
“Listen up,” Strawpin said, arriving to Jack’s side. “That guy over there is Fiend Prince, their head disciple. His father is Fiend King, and he’s said to be the future of the faction. His talent is extreme. People say his battle power is already at the early Autarch level, though I don’t believe that. Be careful of him. His schemes run deep.”
“Got it,” Jack replied. If this guy was at the early A-Grade level at most, he wasn’t a threat. Since Strawpin found that level of strength hard to believe, neither was she. His real opponents would be the Elders.
Strawpin kept giving him a rundown of the enemy forces, but nothing he paid attention to. The disciples were unremarkable, besides the Fiend Prince, and there was no one too special among the Elders either.
He did appreciate her advice, though. Maybe she was less of a bitch than he thought.
As long as I don’t run into the Overlords or Grand Elders, I have room to struggle, he planned. For the late A-Grades, I’ll have to judge case-by-case. I can probably escape some of them, but not all. As for the middle A-Grades, even if I can’t beat them, I can still run away. Just need to take care of Brock and Starhair.
I’ve come a long way, haven’t I?
Fiend King and Great Silver had exchanged a few more words before returning to their respective factions. It was a good reminder that they weren’t really enemies, only rivals—at least, while the Second Crusade roamed outside their world.
“Listen up,” Great Silver said. Watching a dragon speak was more surreal than Jack expected. “We will descend into the Dark Canal now. I want everyone to remember their missions. Elders, travel in your assigned teams and gather as many resources as possible. For this particular delve, I expect you to take more calculated risks than usual. Disciples, remember that even the weakest creatures down there can threaten your lives. Remain close to your accompanying Elders at all times and be extremely careful until you reach the Hall of Trials. After that, your fate will depend on you.”
“Yes, Overlord!” everyone shouted at once.
“Finally, leaving the Canal alone is dangerous, so we’ll meet up at the entrance location in ten years. I’ll escort you all out. If you miss that appointment, you’re on your own.”
“Yes, Overlord!”
“Good.” The dragon’s face warped in an ancient smile. “I wish you all luck, and a bountiful harvest.”
The Fiend King was already done talking to his faction. Whatever he’d said to them—his words had been isolated by a sound barrier—the devils looked ready to go.
“Let’s go,” Great Silver said, and both factions dove into the darkness.
***
After all those descriptions and warnings, Jack expected the Dark Canal to be a zone of death, a monster-infested world where only A-Grades could survive.
Yet, reality betrayed expectations. As they descended lower and lower into the darkness, they came upon a scene of desolation. The ocean cut through the canal like a raging river. The water was black and frothing, shooting into the sky every time it met rock. Stone islands rose from the water, stubbornly standing against the river flow, but they were empty. There were no creatures, no plants, no buildings, no monsters in sight besides themselves.
The deeper they went, the denser the darkness. By the time they landed on the very first stone island, Jack’s mighty perception couldn’t spread further than a mile from his body. He was practically blind. As for the Dao pressure, it had shot up tremendously. Anyone below the peak B-Grade would simply be unable to fly, and even a less talented peak B-Grade might struggle.
In a Dao thousands of times denser than normal, any lower level cultivators would either implode or be completely immobilized. The air here was harder than regular concrete.
Jack turned to the woman beside him. “I have so many questions.”
“Shoot,” Strawpin said, looking around warily.
“Why did we all enter from the same spot? Wouldn’t it be safer for us disciples to go directly to that Hall of Trials?”
“We can’t. The rules governing the Dark Canal are mysterious and strict. All we know is that this island below us is the starting point—the people who attempt to enter from anywhere else simply disappear. Even the two ends of the canal, where the water goes in and out, are dead zones. Don’t go that way. And, this goes without saying, but don’t enter the water either. It’s much more dangerous than the islands. Also pointless—there’s nothing down there.”
“I see,” Jack replied. He was glad he ran into the once-in-a-thousand-years Canal Delve. Otherwise, he would have arrived here by himself at some point, and he might have had an accident trying to enter.
Then again, maybe not. He’d be prudent enough to gather information first.
“Just how powerful is this place?” he asked. “Autarchs stand at the top of the world, but I feel like they’re considered normal here.”
“The Dark Canal is the origin and core of our entire world,” Strawpin replied, the reverence evident in her voice. “It’s only natural for this place to be made for Autarchs, isn’t it?”
“I guess… What about that Hall of Trials?” he asked the burning question. “What’s that?”
Strawpin gave him a piercing look. “You don’t know?”
“It never came up.”
Calculations shone in her eyes, She stared for a few moments before looking away and replying, “The Hall of Trials is the world’s greatest cultivation haven. Every monster who knows about it yearns to enter, but almost nobody can. According to legend, it was established by the creator of our world, and it contains inheritances at the absolute highest level. Everyone who enters is transformed. It is no exaggeration to say that a monster’s level of success in the Hall of Trials shapes their entire future.”
“I see. So, it’s kind of a big deal.”
She once again glared at him. “Yes, Jack. It’s kind of a big deal.”
“Jack!” Venerable Saint Thousand Shell screamed in his mind. “She mentioned the creator of this world! Ask her more!”
“I was planning to,” he replied, then turned back to Strawpin. “You mentioned the creator of this world,” he said. “So, it really was created by someone?”
She chuckled. “Well, that’s just the legend. I don’t know if it’s true or not. All I can tell you is that, while our world and its entrance seal could be natural, the Hall of Trials is definitely not. Someone made it—and they were far stronger than even the current Overlords.”