Chapter 75: The Bottom of the Abyss!

Abyss of Heaven.

Jiang Yuan and Zhang Kui hovered in midair above the Abyss. As for Nezha, who knew where he’d gone, probably tearing down the highway in Jiang Yuan’s Lamborghini.

This was Jiang Yuan’s second time seriously examining the expanse below, but the sensation it gave him was no different from his first encounter. It still brimmed with an irresistible urge to explore, ancient, desolate, and shrouded in mystery.

“Zhang Kui, does this Abyss tempt you at all?” Jiang Yuan asked the man beside him.

He couldn’t say why, but from the moment he first laid eyes on the Abyss, Jiang Yuan had felt an overwhelmingly strong pull. Every time he saw it, he was compelled to venture down and discover its secrets.

Zhang Kui regarded Jiang Yuan with curiosity and replied, “Though this Abyss is suffused with some sort of vast, primeval aura, to me, that’s all there is. It holds no special allure.”

Jiang Yuan’s brows furrowed slightly—this was worth pondering. Zhang Kui wouldn’t lie to him; if that was truly the case, then it seemed as if the Abyss itself was deliberately calling out to him. Could it be that whatever secret lay at the bottom was somehow connected to him?

Involuntarily intrigued, Jiang Yuan’s desire to descend only grew stronger.

“Come, let’s go down first. Did Grand Preceptor Wen ever mention anything about the Abyss to you?” Jiang Yuan asked.

“Never,” Zhang Kui shook his head.

Jiang Yuan quickly summarized the key points about the Abyss for Zhang Kui, but this was not the time for such a discussion. His heart was burning with the urge to investigate what lay below.

The two of them descended faster and faster, and after about half a day, Jiang Yuan began to pay attention to their surroundings. If they truly were caught in a supernatural maze, by now the landscape around them should have ceased to change.

And indeed, as he’d expected, once they reached this depth, the scenery stabilized—no matter how much further they flew down, nothing around them changed in the slightest.

It seemed they’d reached the spot Grand Preceptor Wen had spoken of.

Jiang Yuan called for Zhang Kui to stop and said calmly, “Let’s not go any further.”

He halted in place and began to scrutinize the environment.

“Is this the limit Grand Preceptor Wen mentioned?” Zhang Kui asked, puzzled.

Jiang Yuan couldn’t help but complain inwardly—what a clever one you are. If I told you to keep flying down, you’d just keep your head down and charge straight ahead? At least take a look around to see if anything’s changed, you brute!

Still, it was precisely this sort of brute force that Jiang Yuan needed. One clever powerhouse like Wen Zhong was enough—if there were more, even he wouldn’t be able to keep up.

An errand boy didn’t need so many opinions; as long as he could fight and take hits for him, that was enough.

“There’s no need to go further,” Jiang Yuan explained. “Look around—the scenery doesn’t change no matter how far we descend.”

Zhang Kui didn’t doubt him for a second and didn’t bother to continue flying. Whatever the king said was the truth.

A loyal lackey had to have a loyal lackey’s mentality.

“What do we do now, my king?” Zhang Kui asked.

If you’re asking me, who am I supposed to ask? It’s my first time in this dungeon, too!

“I’ll observe for a while,” Jiang Yuan replied, maintaining a calm demeanor for the sake of his image.

Zhang Kui nodded and asked no more. Following the king had its perks—no need to think.

Jiang Yuan’s mind was racing. What exactly was this Abyss, and why did it draw him so irresistibly? Zhang Kui was more powerful than he was, yet felt nothing. What set them apart?

The dog system?

That seemed unlikely. The system was his golden finger, brought from his transmigration. He didn’t know whether the thing had a true form or not, but it was certainly shrouded in mystery. No one else had detected its presence—not even the omniscient semi-saint Bai Ze.

Which meant the system’s level was extremely high; the Abyss shouldn’t be able to detect it.

What else about himself was unique?

After pondering a while, Jiang Yuan’s eyes suddenly lit up. Of course! He was the Human Sovereign—the only one of his kind in the entire world!

He carried the fate of the Human Sovereign within him, a quality no one else possessed. Even the saints were wary of his destiny.

That alone spoke volumes about its uniqueness.

With this thought, Jiang Yuan immediately summoned his imperial aura—a golden dragon coiled around him.

Zhang Kui watched with curiosity, unsure why his king would suddenly call forth such power, but he didn’t interrupt.

The moment Jiang Yuan summoned the Human Sovereign’s aura, he felt the Abyss’s call intensify. The urge to descend grew overwhelming; his whole body yearned to fall.

Had he not fought against it with all his strength, he would have plummeted straight down already.

Seeing Jiang Yuan’s tightly furrowed brow, Zhang Kui asked anxiously, “My king, what’s wrong?”

Just as Jiang Yuan was about to answer, a mysterious, ethereal voice suddenly sounded within his heart.

“Do not resist. Come to the bottom of the Abyss.”

Jiang Yuan was stunned—besides the dog system, was there actually someone else who could speak directly into his mind?

He replied inwardly, “May I bring someone down with me?”

“May I?” The voice seemed puzzled.

“It is the title of the Human Sovereign,” Jiang Yuan explained.

The owner of the voice seemed to ponder this for a moment, then finally replied, “You must come alone.”

“Very well, senior. Allow me a moment to make arrangements,” Jiang Yuan answered.

“Granted.”

With that single word, the voice faded into silence.

Jiang Yuan turned back to Zhang Kui and said calmly, “I must go to the very bottom of the Abyss. You are to remain here and wait for me.”

Zhang Kui’s face filled with worry. “Let me accompany you, my king.”

Jiang Yuan shook his head. “You cannot follow. Stay here. If I do not return within a day, go and bring reinforcements.”

Of course, he knew that if he really couldn’t return, reinforcements would be useless. He just wanted to reassure Zhang Kui. Judging from the voice’s tone, it didn’t seem to harbor ill will toward him.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have agreed to descend. He’d been in this world for so long and still knew nothing of its deeper secrets. Though he feared death, an opportunity this mysterious was too good to pass up.

In any case, he still had a resurrection coin. If he was afraid of death, how could he call himself a true successor of the revolution?

With that thought, Jiang Yuan didn’t wait for Zhang Kui’s reply. He instantly released all resistance, and the imperial aura vanished into thin air.

His body plummeted downward!

Zhang Kui tried to follow, but no matter how he chased, he could only watch as his king grew farther and farther away, until at last he had no choice but to give up.

He didn’t know how long it took, but eventually Jiang Yuan felt solid ground beneath his feet. He knew he had reached the bottom of the Abyss at last.