Beyond the Timescape

Chapter 83: Deep Sea Dragon Shadow

The tales warned every disciple of Seven Blood Eyes: if they ever encountered this bizarre phenomenon at sea, they were to take no action, make no contact, and above all, cause no disturbance.

Xu Qing remained silent.

Records from the Sea Chronicles Pavilion surfaced in his mind as he sat cross-legged within his Dharma Boat. Above him, countless ferocious spirits ascended in clustered hordes, their piercing shrieks tearing through the night.

“The key point in the Sea Chronicles isn’t the tale itself,” Xu Qing thought, his gaze fixed on the heavens as a bone-deep chill settled over the world. “It’s the fact that they categorized it as a ‘story,’ not a ‘legend.'”

“Legends are myths. Stories are histories.” Xu Qing took a slow breath, his eyes scanning the dark horizon.

The sky teemed with vicious ghosts, their mournful wails rising and falling in an endless, suffocating tide. It was a cosmic horror that would leave the faint-hearted trembling in abject terror.

But Xu Qing was accustomed to nightmares.

He had looked into the eyes of a god. He had survived for weeks in a ruined city crawling with mutated beasts and anomalies. He had grown up in the slums, steeped in the darkest dregs of human nature, where life was cheap and death was a daily transaction.

Forged in the meat-grinder of the forbidden jungles and the ruthless syndicate of Seven Blood Eyes, he knew that lethal threats were not limited to the supernatural. In this world, everything was trying to kill you.

While others might cower before the ascending spirits, Xu Qing remained perfectly still. Through the cacophony of shrieking ghosts, his hyper-focused senses caught something else—a faint, lingering melody drifting through the dark.

He closed his eyes, motionless, tuning out the noise to isolate the sound.

From afar, his Dharma Boat was nothing but a speck on the vast, black ocean, swaying as the Hundred Ghosts Night Walk threatened to swallow it whole. Yet the eerie tune in Xu Qing’s ears only grew clearer, echoing with a deep, cosmic melancholy.

The Hundred Ghosts Night Walk. The Hundred Ghosts Night Dance. The Hundred Ghosts Night Song.

The night bled away. Zhao Zhongheng spent it in a state of nervous panic, Xu Qing in silent listening, and Senior Sister Ding in deep curiosity over Xu Qing’s trance.

When dawn finally broke, the spectral song dissipated. Xu Qing opened his eyes, the final notes still echoing faintly in his mind.

Ding Xue’s gaze lingered on him. “Junior Brother Xu, were you listening all night? Did you hear something?”

Xu Qing ignored her. He disliked having his focus broken. Without so much as a blink, he remained immersed in the fading resonance.

His silence only fueled her curiosity. Tapping her Storage Bag, she produced a jade box and held it out. “Junior Brother Xu, this is a Clarifying Pill. It’s excellent for nourishing the soul. It’s yours, if you just tell me what you heard.”

Aboard the Phoenix Bird, Zhao Zhongheng’s eyes bulged. His breathing hitched, a jealous fire threatening to consume him. That Pill was a gift he had given Ding Xue earlier to soothe her impatience. Now, just because Xu Qing looked slightly annoyed, she was re-gifting it to him?

The sheer injustice of it drove Zhao Zhongheng mad.

“A Clarifying Pill?”

Xu Qing’s attention snapped to the jade box. He knew of this Pill and its considerable value; it was a rare find. Surprised, he turned, took the box, opened it to inspect the contents, and after verifying its authenticity, tucked it into his pocket.

Seeing Xu Qing accept it, Ding Xue beamed, her eyes sparkling. “Junior Brother Xu, please tell me. I know the Sea Chronicles mention that few can hear the Hundred Ghosts Night Song—only those with exceptionally sharp perception.”

Xu Qing nodded, a flicker of nostalgia in his eyes. “I heard the patient, guiding voice of my teacher instructing me in the ways of herbs and plants.”

“Junior Brother Xu, you even know the path of herbs and plants? How impressive!” Ding Xue gushed with admiration. On the Phoenix Bird, Zhao Zhongheng snorted in disdain, muttering under his breath, “Anyone can boast!”

Ignoring the jealous Zhao Zhongheng, Ding Xue eagerly hovered near Xu Qing, peppering him with questions about herbalism. Out of gratitude for the Clarifying Pill, Xu Qing, though slightly annoyed, offered a few curt replies.

In the days that followed, Zhao Zhongheng grew increasingly frantic. To win back Senior Sister Ding’s attention, he showered her with gifts and flattery. Yet Ding Xue mostly brushed him off with a cold shoulder, only reluctantly accepting a few items when pressed. She showed no intention of returning to his boat, instead spending her time on Xu Qing’s Dharma Boat, her laughter ringing out like silver bells—a sound that set Zhao Zhongheng’s insides ablaze with fury.

Over those few days, Ding Xue laughed more around Xu Qing than she had in a whole year with Zhao Zhongheng. Often, Zhao Zhongheng watched as she initiated conversations with Xu Qing, asking about herbs and medicinal plants—topics he knew she had zero interest in. And if Xu Qing remained silent, she’d offer another gift as a consultation fee, gifts that Zhao Zhongheng had originally given her.

This scene left Zhao Zhongheng dazed, a vague sense of familiarity washing over him. It seemed he and Senior Sister Ding were… somewhat similar. The realization filled him with sorrow, but he couldn’t bring himself to give up. Gritting his teeth, he tried to join in, striving to keep pace.

In a desperate bid to capture Ding Xue’s attention, Zhao Zhongheng unleashed his cultivation, hunting various sea beasts along the way and inviting her to taste them. This tactic did yield a slight response, rekindling a flicker of hope in his heart.

Until noon on the third day, as Xu Qing’s Dharma Boat and the Phoenix Bird sailed on, a sharp screech pierced the sky from above.

Seated cross-legged on his boat, Xu Qing looked up to see a pseudodontorn circling overhead. Its massive, slender wings spanned over two zhang, its bluish body speckled with mud. Most striking was its terrifying beak, resembling two giant iron clamps, hinting at a crushing bite force.

The sea at that moment was eerily calm, a vast, black mirror stretching to the horizon. In the sky, seabirds dotted the expanse—the pseudodontorn was just one among many distant black specks hunting for prey at midday.

This pseudodontorn, circling high above, seemed to have fixed its sights on Xu Qing’s group, trailing them closely. Yet, sensing danger, it began to veer away after a few loops.

Xu Qing glanced at the pseudodontorn, then down at the tranquil sea, a glint of alertness in his eyes. He chose not to act.

But on the Phoenix Bird, Zhao Zhongheng’s eyes lit up with excitement. Noticing Ding Xue observing the sky, he called out cheerfully, “Senior Sister Ding, the Sea Chronicles say this pseudodontorn tastes quite good. I’ll catch it for you—we can have it for lunch!”

“Junior Brother Xu, would you like some pseudodontorn for lunch?” Ding Xue stood up, gazing at the bird with a sweet smile directed at Xu Qing.

Xu Qing held some goodwill toward Ding Xue. Her eagerness to learn reminded him of his younger self. Though her questions about herbalism were frequent, she always paid for the answers, with gifts totaling nearly 200 Spirit Stones by now.

Over these past few days, Xu Qing had gained a deeper impression of these two core disciples from the Seventh Peak. Yet he wouldn’t hastily judge all core disciples based on these two. Core disciples were human, and humans varied—some were clever, some foolish, some cautious, some reckless.

Thus, among core disciples, there were surely naive ones, just as there were those as ruthless as the gray-robed cultivators emerging from the harsh environments below the mountain, steeped in killing intent. Xu Qing figured he simply hadn’t encountered many core disciples yet.

Zhao Zhongheng wasn’t inherently bad, just profoundly foolish—a “useless sack,” as the captain had labeled him.

Ding Xue wasn’t stupid either; she’d merely been overly sheltered, out of sync with this chaotic world. But that very fact hinted at a formidable background, a point reinforced by Zhao Zhongheng’s deferential attitude toward her.

Especially recalling how during the Hundred Ghosts Night Walk, her hand had never left her Storage Bag, Xu Qing was certain she possessed astonishing life-preserving means, which explained why her elders allowed her to venture to sea.

So, Xu Qing offered a warning. “The sea is too calm. Something’s off.”

“Coward!” Zhao Zhongheng sneered from the Phoenix Bird, raising his hands to unleash a technique and capture the pseudodontorn.

But at that moment, the pseudodontorn, sensing Zhao Zhongheng’s intent, turned aggressive. Instead of fleeing, it banked sharply and dove like a meteor from the sky, streaking toward the three from behind their boats with a piercing shriek.

From a distance, its form cut through the air, creating sonic booms that testified to its staggering speed.

“Perfect timing!” Zhao Zhongheng laughed, leaping into the air from his boat, poised to strike.

Xu Qing, however, grew alert. He rose, looking toward the sea behind the boats. There, over a span of several dozen zhang, the water began churning violently as the pseudodontorn hurtled closer.

It was as if something massive was racing toward the surface from the depths!

A cold glint flashed in Xu Qing’s eyes. He swiftly formed hand seals, and in an instant, his Dharma Boat shifted into a defensive stance.

Just as this transformation completed, through his connection with the boat, he glimpsed a colossal shadow surging from the seabed at breakneck speed. In the blink of an eye, it breached the surface.

Boom!

With a deafening roar, the sea behind the boats exploded across a hundred-zhang radius.

A massive, pitch-black head, covered in scales and resembling a cross between a dragon and a crocodile, erupted from the waves, radiating unprecedented ferocity and savagery.

The stench of decay instantly filled the air, and towering waves roiled. The creature’s maw gaped wide, swallowing the approaching pseudodontorn whole in one gulp. The bird, large as it was, seemed a mere snack compared to that cavernous mouth. With another thunderous crash, the head vanished back into the sea.

The resulting tidal waves surged outward, tossing Xu Qing’s Dharma Boat and Zhao Zhongheng’s Phoenix Bird like leaves in a storm. The former maintained controlled retreat, while the latter teetered on the brink of chaos.

Zhao Zhongheng’s face paled instantly, terror etched in his features. He had already launched into the air, but luckily, he hadn’t gained much altitude. Had he been any closer to the pseudodontorn, he might have shared its fate.

The brush with death sent his heart pounding. Soaked by the spray, he stumbled back frantically, landing on the deck of the Phoenix Bird, his body trembling uncontrollably. He feared that if he retreated too slowly, that monstrous maw might resurface.

Yet, as a disciple of the Seventh Peak, his basic training kicked in. Instinctively, he regained control of his boat, steadying it gradually.

“That was… a plesiosaur! Senior Sister Ding, come to my boat quickly! We need to leave this area now!” Zhao Zhongheng shouted urgently from the rocking Phoenix Bird, maneuvering the vessel.

“Shut up! If you hadn’t foolishly provoked the pseudodontorn, it would have flown away and not attacked! The Sea Chronicles record that pseudodontorns are the plesiosaur’s favorite prey. Clearly, it was drawn by the bird in the sky. If you hadn’t acted recklessly, the plesiosaur would have followed it away,” Ding Xue retorted, her expression grim. For disciples of the Seventh Peak, among the hunters of the forbidden sea, plesiosaurs weren’t the strongest, but any creature thriving in these Mutagen-infested waters was notoriously vicious. Their threat level couldn’t be judged by cultivation rank alone—their sheer size often tipped the scales in their favor unless there was a vast disparity in power.

Zhao Zhongheng wanted to argue, but words failed him. He could only mutter bitterly, “Maybe it’ll leave soon…”

Ding Xue, clearly more composed than Zhao Zhongheng, steadied herself despite the shock. She channeled her cultivation energy, drew a green sword, and prepared for combat. Her right hand rested on her Storage Bag, ready to deploy a trump card at any moment, her eyes fixed warily on the sea.

In contrast, Xu Qing remained remarkably calm. He’d sensed the sea’s abnormality earlier and had preemptively shifted his Dharma Boat to defense mode. Now, as colossal waves crashed like giant fists against his boat, it was carried backward by the surge. Yet, thanks to its stability, it didn’t spiral out of control but retreated in an orderly fashion with the tide.

His composure helped soothe Ding Xue’s nerves, her gaze sharpening with resolve.

“It hasn’t left!” Xu Qing’s eyes gleamed with intensity as he spoke in a low voice.