The Immortal Emperor Returns

Chapter 423 Rising to the Challenge

Demons and devils, the very paragons of death and brutal carnage.

But one mention of Chu Xun, the Devil, invoked more fear and terror than the usual demons and other creatures of darkness.

First, he single-handedly destroyed the Broken Souls Cult, then he laid waste to the once-illustrious House of Zang of Yanxue City.

If anything, these incidents demonstrated Chu Xun’s propensity to tie up loose ends without any qualm or hesitation.

Hardly anyone could claim to be undaunted by such brutalness.

Even as the mutants of Lost Races busied about preparing their trap, they could not help feeling uneasy.

Nothing is certain. Nothing at all.

As much as they were confident that their plan to slay Chu Xun would be a success, no one could say for sure that there would be no surprises.

One should never neglect how it is always better to be safe than sorry.

If they won, they would triumph in killing Chu Xun.

But what if they lost? The wrath of the Devil would incinerate them all into ruin.

The entire cyberspace was quiet, like the stillness before a storm

“Send a reply. I shall be on time on July the fourteenth,” said Chu Xun without a single rise in his tone.

“But Master! It’s too dangerous!” Wu Busi urged strongly.

“I’m against you going too,” added Jing Hong.

Chu Xun gave no lengthy explanation. Curtly, he said, “I need to go, or humans will never long be able to live with their heads held high.”

Jing Hong fell silent.

Chu Xun’s trouncing of the Wingeds and his savage defeat of the Zombies were intended as a message: a message that humans belonged here.

More and more alien races were emerging amidst the anomalies ravaging Earth and if he gave up now, all the work and results that he had accomplished before would be for naught.

Chu Xun’s brutal and ruthless ways were the one thing that the mutants of the Lost Races were afraid of, that they had to pace down their cruelty towards other humans. The Peacock race, for one, stopped massacring humans in the huge magnitude they once did before.

That Chu Xun to show any signs of weakness would only embolden the mutants.

Hence, it was crucial that he appeared.

“All right, so be it then,” said Jing Hong.

Wu Busi gritted his teeth. He had been imprisoned by the Broken Souls Cult during Chu Xun’s battles against the alien races and hence, he understood little of the latter’s reason.

His lips quivered as he struggled to voice out another word of objection before Chu Xun’s hand shot up to stop him.

“Wait. Perhaps I should do it myself.”

Chu Xun logged on to his account in the Martial Tao forum.

“I shall be there. July the fourteenth it is.”

The short and concise reply kicked up a storm.

The Devil would be meeting his foes at Nether Mountain!

...

Nether Mountain, a summit-ringed hilly marshland filled with desolate barrenness and venomous vermins everywhere.

At this hour, Nether Mountain was far from silent and deserted; the mutants of the Lost Races had occupied the place to set its trap for Chu Xun.

In most other times, the Lost Races were a motley band of divided alien races. But just this time, they brokered a short parlay in order to put down their common enemy: Chu Xun.

Makeshift structures clustered at the peak of Nether Mountain.

The higher echelons of each race congregated at the largest temporary building.

“Will the Devil be here?” said a gaunt and scrawny elderly man with hair of sand brown and eyes as tiny as peas that conveyed a wicked character.

This was Huang Ji, a member of the Mustelid mutant race and the strongest of the Mustelids who emerged in the human world, a Ninth-grade Beast Lord.

He looked like a feeble and dirty old man, but no one dared to clap eyes on him. Mustelid mutants possessed a great mastery of psychological magic that allowed them to control the minds of others to manipulate or hypnotize them.

“Knowing the Devil, I’m sure he would. He gave his word,” said the Ninth Presbyter of the Wingeds whose memory of how he barely escaped Death under Chu Xun’s hands was still fresh in his mind.

“They say the Winged Legion was easily destroyed by the Devil, that even your Tenth Presbyter was killed? Is he really that powerful?” asked another man. At a towering height of mere inches shy of three meters, the dark-skinned stranger sat on his chair like an obsidian edifice and his sonorous voice only enhanced his impressive stature.

This was Hei Teng, the strongest mutant of the Draconians who had emerged.

Unfazed, the Ninth Winged Presbyter gave Hei Teng a curt look and smirked, “The Devil slew a black dragon not far by the borders of Huaxia not long ago. I’d suggest that you refrain from fighting him alone unless you want him to be more famous for killing you.”

A boiling presence of anger rose from Hei Teng as he seethed at the Winged’s jeering remark, his eyes glaring at him angrily.

“Hubris will cost you, Hei Teng,” said the best Zombie champion somberly, “This is best illustrated by the many deaths of my kin as the price paid for underestimating Chu Xun.”

“Indeed. Never make light of the Devil’s might. We have the Broken Souls Cult and the Zang Family as prime examples. We can have no margin for error,” interjected a handsome middle-aged man, the greatest champion of the Peacock race.

Everyone present was the greatest champions of their kind.

“This is true. We need to deal with him in one fell stroke. There cannot be any opening for him to retaliate or exploit,” said the Lycan champion. With the greatest loathing for humans, he detested his present humanoid appearance.

Therefore, he maintained his wolf head. If not for the restricted space indoors, he would not have agreed to turn into humanoid form.

“What a shame that I have my own task to carry out. I would have enjoyed pitting against the Devil to see if he’s really as good as they claim,” commented Hei Teng.

The light from the doorway darkened suddenly, blotted by the silhouette that had appeared out of nowhere.

It was a common-looking youth, although he looked rather smug and proud.

Everyone got to their feet and bowed respectfully to him.

The wry-looking youth strode casually past them and lowered himself into the chair at the head of the table with the smug grin still stuck on his face like glue.

He gazed at every face at the table and said nonchalantly, “There’s nothing to feel pity about, everyone. Each of us is assigned our individual tasks. What’s more, the Devil is beyond your abilities to handle; leave him to me.”

Not a sound of protest. There was nothing but an air of mysterious enigma about this youth, more so with his peculiar name: Wu Kejin.

No one knew about his origins. He came from nowhere and began challenging the champions of the Lost Races to a string of duels.

The terms that he offered to them: a high-grade Relic for any victor who defeated him and those that he defeated would owe him a favor.

No one won. He defeated every one of the finest and best that the Lost Races could offer and here they were today.

The favor that he demanded of the greatest champions of the Lost Races was a simple one: to serve him in a crusade against Chu Xun, the Devil.

The Lost Races’ collective hatred for the Devil made it a favor that their champions gladly obliged to.

On the surface, it looked like the Peacock race were the ones assembling the Lost Races for this crusade when in truth, it was Wu Kejin who had been pulling the strings from behind the scenes.

“There’s no need for any more bicker, everyone. The Devil is nowhere near as strong as you thought him to be. He’s just an insect in my eyes. He may grow into a butterfly but he’d only still be a weakling to me,” said Wu Kejin with venom and scorn.

No one dared to contradict him for if anyone could defeat the Devil, it could only be him.

After all, he had easily won his duels against every champion present here with only one blow each.

“Master Wu is right, we’ve been worrying too much,” chuckled the Peacock race champion.

“Eat and rest for the next few days. Seven days from now, the Devil and his band of merry men shall all be wiped off the face of the Earth,” said Wu Kejin with a disconcerting indifference.

“If I may ask, Master Wu. What quarrel do you have against Chu Xun?” Hei Teng asked with as much politeness as he could muster by keeping his rancorous air and disposition in check.

“Good question,” Wu Kejin chuckled, rather surprised by the question. He paused a beat as if to think, before answering sardonically, “Nothing. But since I want to kill him, I suppose I’ll need a reason. Let’s go with my dislike of how he insists that humans are the true rulers of Earth.”

Hei Teng and every champion at the table could hardly believe the impromptu and flippant manner of his answer. Yet, they detected not a word of a lie from him.

“The anomalies now going on everywhere will bring about the renaissance of the former glories of Earth. Fortunes and opportunities shall abound in every corner of the Earth shortly. How could we allow humans to rule over such a bountiful planet blessed with abundant resources? I call that a joke,” said Wu Kejin in a dangerously quiet voice.

Hei Teng, Huang Ji, and the rest of the champions shared furtive looks.

“Master Wu’s right. With our advent and Earth’s restoration to its former glory, we cannot let humans rule these lands.”

“I hate them. Foolish vermins with incredible fertility. They should be at the bottom of our food chain.”

“Humans are tasty. The last time I feasted on them I was only half-full. Pity. But I’ll be able to enjoy them again after we’ve dealt with Chu Xun.”

“What are you thinking about?” asked Jing Hong when she found Chu Xun mulling in contemplative silence.

“I’m getting the feeling that something is afoot,” said Chu Xun. His mastery of the Evocation of Heavenly Secrets gave him an unusually keen sixth-sense and it was giving him a strange and dreadful sensation of foreboding.

“Me too. I’ve learned something called the Evocation of Heavenly Secrets before. It allows me to pick up accurate premonitions from time to time,” said Jing Hong.

“It was given to you by me,” revealed Chu Xun, chuckling.

Jing Hong stared at him, visibly surprised. She had always remembered learning the Evocation, but she could remember nothing about Chu Xun. Hence she did not know from where and from whom she learned it – until now.

“How about…” Jing Hong gasped, but she stopped midway.

She wanted to urge Chu Xun to reconsider going to Nether Mountain. But she knew the burden he carried. He had given his word; renege on his promise and the Devil’s name shall forever be held in contempt and ridicule.

“Let’s meet Teacher then,” said Jing Hong.

Chu Xun nodded, he had been thinking the same too.

“I wish to first go to Qianlong Mountain.”

“I’ll meet you at the capital then.”

Chu Xun nodded. Jing Hong took Long Yi and the others back to the capital while he went to Qianlong Mountain alone.

For it was the only place he called Home.

“At long last, you’re back, you useless runt!” Liu Ran pinched Chu Xun’s ears viciously as she hurled barbed words at her prodigal son.

Chu Tianhe did not miss the chance to give his son a good earful as well.

This time, Liu Ran saw no reason to protect Chu Xun from his father’s fierce admonishment, in fact, she joined his side.

The great and mighty Devil could only hang his head meekly like a timid lamb before the hailstorm of berates his parents hurled at him. The best he could do was bob his head and grin like a silly boy.

Chen Hanlong and the others watched with glee.

Chu Xun could not help feeling emotional. Twenty years had passed since he returned and the first person he took under his wing was Chen Hanlong.

But he was too late to start; after so long, he was still languishing in the latter parts of the Qi Refinement Stage.

Zheng Qian, on the other hand, was a stark contrast. He had made good progress all thanks to the supplies that Chu Xun had left them and the rich natural energies of Qianlong Mountain, both of which were the prime reasons he had reached the mid-Foundation Stage.

As for Sun Ying, Titan, Zheng Guangyi; their progress was no different from Chen Hanlong.

“When can we fight alongside you in battle, sir?” Titan asked in his raspy and deep voice, still looking as enthusiastic as Chu Xun last recalled.

Chu Xun giggled. “With your present strengths, I’d rather not. Any champion outside now could easily send you to meet your maker.”

Dissatisfied with Chu Xun’s answer, Titan said, “I, Chen, Sun, and Zheng were in town just a few days ago where we encountered this prickly and arrogant young man, the son of a wealthy family. We gave him quite a beating. His bodyguards and chaperons were all warriors too, but none of them could take not so much as a punch from us.”

Unfazed, Chu Xun lifted a finger and poked lightly on Titan and he crashed backward to the ground, befuddled and dazed.

Chen Hanlong and the others all swallowed hard while feeling lucky that they had not been the one to speak to Chu Xun.

“Wait till you can at least endure that, then we’ll talk about fighting in battle beside me,” said Chu Xun, bursting into laughter.