Starting as the heir of a marquis's mansion, I gained access to a summoning system.

Bibo Island Pier.

Yang Dingtian stood with his hands behind his back at the highest point of the dock steps, his robes clinging to his body in the wind, yet he remained motionless.

Behind him, four Yin generals stood on either side. Dai Qisi had snow-white hair, Yin Tianzheng's tiger-like eyes held a fierce power, Xie Xun closed his eyes and listened intently, and Wei Yixiao was hunched over like a leopard. The four of them occupied their respective positions, their auras connected, subtly forming a battle formation.

"Eighty warships and more than two thousand men."

Dai Qisi's voice remained calm. "Sha Tongtian himself is a Grandmaster Level Two, and he has at least five Grandmaster-level experts under his command. King Biancheng, how do we fight this battle?"

Yang Dingtian didn't turn around, only saying four words: "Defend the dock to the death."

Yin Tianzheng frowned deeply and took a step forward: "King Biancheng, the enemy has a Grandmaster! The five of us Grandmasters can hold them off for a while, but not for long. Once the dock falls, our brothers on the island—"

"I can manage."

He didn't turn around, but just turned his head slightly and glanced at an inconspicuous stone house on the island.

The warships of the Sea Sand Gang are getting closer and closer.

The flagship "Breaking the Sea" took the lead, its bow cutting through the waves with a deep, rumbling roar.

Standing at the bow of the ship was a short, stocky man named Sha Tongtian. He wore a dark blue sharkskin armor, the scales gleaming with a cold, bluish light in the sunlight.

A heavy sword hung at his waist, its blade twice as wide as an ordinary longsword, its back as thick as the edge of a palm, and its hilt wrapped with a dark red sharkskin rope.

Behind him, Vice Leader Han Tao and five Grandmaster-level elders stood in a row, each wearing a water robe and exuding a deep and composed aura.

"Chief," Han Tao lowered his voice, his gaze sweeping over the row of low defensive fortifications on Bibo Island, "the Underworld's core fighting force consists of only Yang Dingtian and four Yin Marshals. Five Grandmasters, plus a few hundred or so gang members, can't withstand a single charge from us."

Sha Tongtian grunted in response but didn't speak. His gaze swept across the dock and landed on the wooden stakes on the island's shore—Han Dali and Liu Wuchang's heads were still hanging there, dried by the sun and rain, now just two black lumps of bones.

His eyelid twitched.

"Take those heads off."

"Then hang up all the heads of the living people on Bibo Island."

Eighty warships were deployed in the waters near Bibo Island, their sails forming a continuous line that obscured half the sky. The dark shadows of the ships pressed down on the sea like a large net being tightened.

The Po Hai was the first to dock.

The moment Sha Tongtian stepped onto the dock, cracks erupted from the point of his landing, spreading outwards in a ring of fissures. The sound of the planks breaking echoed as the cracks spread like a spiderweb in all directions, finally stopping at Yang Dingtian's feet.

The Grandmaster's oppressive aura spread out without reservation, like an invisible mountain pressing down from above. The weaker gang members on the dock trembled, sweat rolling down their foreheads, and some even staggered back a couple of steps involuntarily.

Yang Dingtian looked up at him, without taking a single step back. His feet seemed rooted to the spot, the stone slab beneath his feet remaining completely still.

Sha Tongtian didn't even look at him. The grandmaster's gaze passed over Yang Dingtian, past the four Yin generals, and landed on the row of human head stakes on the dock.

"Han Dali has been with me for eighteen years." Sha Tongtian's voice was flat, as calm as if he were saying that the sea wasn't rough today. "He took three knife wounds for me and saved my life twice. You hang his head on the dock as a post."

He slowly withdrew his gaze and finally looked at Yang Dingtian. In those piercing eyes, killing intent surged like a tide.

"Today, all of you will be buried with him."

His right hand rested on the hilt of the knife.

"Let's do it!"

Before the words were even finished, five figures simultaneously shot out from behind Sha Tongtian—Han Tao and the five Grandmaster-level elders each displayed their movement techniques, their sword and palm strikes raining down on the dock like a storm. In an instant, true energy surged, and the sea surface was pressed into a huge dent by the shockwave, with waves crashing back.

Yang Dingtian pushed his Qiankun Great Shift to its limit.

With a swift movement of his hands, he deflected three blade beams simultaneously. Two of them crashed into the sea, creating towering columns of water, while the third flew out and cleaved a mast at the dock. Behind him, the four Yin Generals each faced their opponents—Dai Qisi's soft sword coiled around one like a snake, Yin Tianzheng's iron palm forcefully repelled another, Xie Xun's long roar echoed like a tidal wave, and Wei Yixiao moved like a ghost at the edge of the battle.

More than a dozen bursts of true energy erupted on the dock in an instant, mixing wood chips, gravel, and seawater together, blotting out the sky.

But Sha Tongtian did not move.

He stood there, hands crossed on the hilt of his sword, his gaze coldly sweeping across the battlefield. He was waiting—waiting for Yang Dingtian to reveal his trump card. He didn't believe the Underworld would dare to use five Grandmasters to directly confront his army; there must be some other trick up their sleeve.

However, at that very moment, a hand patted Sha Tongtian on the shoulder from behind.

The hand patted very lightly and casually, like a greeting between old friends reuniting after a long separation.

Sha Tongtian's pupils contracted to their limit in that instant—he was a Grandmaster. No one within a radius of several hundred feet could escape his perception; he could even sense the heartbeat of a seagull flying by.

But he hadn't noticed when this person appeared behind him at all. There were no footsteps, no breathing, no fluctuations of inner energy—nothing at all. It was as if this person had always been standing behind him, only he hadn't turned around to look.

Sha Tongtian didn't turn back. He charged forward, simultaneously drawing his heavy sword from its sheath in a backhand motion—a flash of light, and a water-blue sword aura tore through the air and slashed backward. This strike was the culmination of Sha Tongtian's lifelong cultivation, the Sea-Splitting Sword Aura, which had once slain a Grandmaster of the same rank in the East Sea.

Where the blade's energy passed, the thick wooden planks on the dock silently split in two, the cracks revealing the dark water beneath. Half a breath after the energy had passed, the planks finally cracked with a loud popping sound.

Then the knife was caught by a hand.

The hand's five fingers were spread out, the knuckles thick and powerful, and the fingertips were condensed with deep purple true energy. The true energy condensed into the shape of an eagle claw, forcefully grasping the azure blue blade energy that was powerful enough to split the sea.

The blade's energy struggled wildly within the Eagle Claw's true force, emitting a piercing metallic scraping sound, like a ferocious beast trapped in an iron cage. Deep purple and aquamarine light collided violently, scattering countless tiny specks of light.

Then, the blade's energy shattered like a piece of glass being crushed, breaking into pieces from the middle. The fragments fell to the ground, burning charred holes in the wooden planks.

Sha Tongtian finally turned his head.

He saw a tall, imposing man with a square and dignified face. His aura was so deep it was unsettling, like a stagnant pool or a bottomless well.

Ouyang Feiying.

He released his grip, and shattered fragments of the blade's energy slipped from his fingers, clattering and clanging against the wooden board.

"Chief Sha," Ouyang Feiying's voice was as calm as if he were exchanging pleasantries with someone in a teahouse, "your knife is too slow."

Sha Tongtian's pupils suddenly contracted. Although that attack hadn't been delivered with full force, anyone who could catch it bare-handed was no ordinary person. He didn't rush to attack, but instead asked in a deep voice, "Who are you?"

"One of the Ten Kings of Hell, King Qin Guang, Ouyang Feiying."

Sha Tongtian's pupils contracted sharply, then trembled violently—the Ten Kings of Hell. There were ten of them.

The man who caught his Sea-Splitting Blade Qi with his bare hands was just one of them. The other nine were at least of the same level.

He said nothing more. He took a deep breath, pushing his Grandmaster-level true energy to its limit. A massive whirlpool swirled around him on the sea, the water churning and rumbling. The Water Martial Arts technique triggered a celestial phenomenon—dark clouds gathered from all directions, waves crashed one after another, and the sky near Azure Wave Island instantly darkened, as if a solar eclipse had occurred.

He struck a second time.

This strike had no blade energy. He transformed into a deep blue streak of light, becoming one with the blade, carrying the force of a thousand tons of seawater, and crashed straight into Ouyang Feiying. The aftershock of this strike carved a three-zhang-deep trench into the sea behind him, and the seawater surged and exploded to both sides, forming two walls of water.

Ouyang Feiying did not retreat.

He made a fist with his right hand, and true energy condensed in his palm, causing a huge, deep purple eagle claw phantom to materialize out of thin air. This eagle claw was no longer a phantom but solidified—each claw joint gleamed with a dark metallic luster, and the hooks at the fingertips were slightly curved, as if they could tear the sky apart.

The eagle's claws met the flash of the blade.

Two forces exploded in front of the dock—the dock was broken in two, wood chips flew everywhere like a rainstorm, a deep crater five zhang in diameter was blasted into the sea, and the backflowing seawater created waves several zhang high that crashed onto the shore, uprooting the remaining wooden piles on the dock.

Sha Tongtian's swordsmanship was continuous and relentless, each strike heavier than the last. His Water Martial Arts style had the advantage of the sea, each strike carrying the force of the ocean, leaving long-lasting cracks in the surface. He fought faster and faster, his sword light almost merging with the waves, his entire being seemingly becoming one with the sea itself—surging, violent, and endless.

Ouyang Feiying, however, remained as steady as a rock.

His eagle claw technique continuously tore through the blade's energy, each claw aimed directly at Sha Tongtian's vital points, forcing the opponent to expend more energy on defense. His steps were small and his movements minimal, but each step landed on the weakest point of Sha Tongtian's blade attack.

But more importantly—his face remained completely expressionless.

The two fought from the dock to the sea, and from the sea to the low sky. Blades and eagle claws clashed and collided between the sea and the sky, each impact creating a visible shockwave.

The sky near Bibo Island was stirred up by the Grandmaster's duel, with mist filling the air. The gang members watching from the shore had already retreated more than a hundred feet away—the aftershocks of a battle between Grandmasters were enough to shatter the internal organs of a martial artist. Several Sea Sand Gang henchmen were too slow to retreat and were swept by a stray blade of energy, instantly coughing up blood and collapsing to the ground.

Sha Tongtian grew increasingly alarmed as the fight progressed.

This King Qin Guang's true qi was comparable to his own, both being Grandmaster Level Two, but his combat experience was far more ruthless—he never held back in his attacks, and every exchange of blows was a matter of trading injury for injury. If Sha Tongtian slashed at him, he would tear apart a piece of Sha Tongtian's protective true qi; if Sha Tongtian avoided vital points, he would chase after him and bite.

No retreat, no yielding, no dodging, no evasion. Fight with all your might.

What chilled Sha Tongtian even more was that this person was "one of" the real person.

There are nine more lunatics like this in the underworld.

It was just a fleeting moment of hesitation.

Ouyang Feiying seized upon the flaw that was not even a flaw—Sha Tongtian's sword strike slowed down by half a beat, and the flow of true energy showed a negligible delay.

He slipped inside.

A palm struck Sha Tongtian's chest. The Eagle Claw True Energy penetrated his body, and the true energy between his five fingers was like five sharp blades, instantly tearing apart the protective true energy in Sha Tongtian's chest.

Sha Tongtian's sternum caved in, making a cracking sound. He spat out blood, which exploded into a cloud of mist in the air. He was sent flying backward, his heavy sword slipping from his hand, tumbling several times in the air before landing in the sea, splashing up a small spray.

Sha Tongtian struggled to stand up. His hands were braced in the soft, wet sand, his knuckles sinking deep into the mud, and his arms trembling violently.

But all he saw was a figure walking on the waves.

Ouyang Feiying looked down at him expressionlessly. The sea breeze made his dark purple brocade robe flutter gently. He lowered his head, looking down at this once arrogant maritime tyrant.

Then stomp down.

The sound of bones breaking was drowned out by the waves.

Sha Tongtian's wide eyes slowly lost focus. His pupils still reflected Ouyang Feiying's expressionless face, but the light was gradually fading.

Until his last breath, those four words echoed in his mind—the Ten Kings of Hell.

He was unwilling to accept it. But it was too late.

Ouyang Feiying turned around and waved at the completely chaotic Hai Sha Gang warships. The gesture was casual, like shooing away a swarm of flies.

"Kill them all."

The entire underworld was mobilized.

Ouyang Feiying raised his right hand and made a grabbing motion in the air.

A deep purple eagle claw phantom appeared out of thin air ten feet away, its five fingers closing together and crushing Han Tao's throat. Han Tao's body fell from mid-air, crashing into the sea and splashing up a spray of bloody water.

The remaining grandmasters were also killed one by one in a short period of time—in front of a great grandmaster, a grandmaster's resistance was like a child waving a wooden sword, commendable in courage, but the outcome was inevitable.

Of the eighty warships, a dozen or so took advantage of the chaos to hoist their sails and escape into the distance with the help of the sea breeze. The rest all became spoils of war for the Underworld—the flags of the Sea Sand Gang on the sails were torn off and thrown into the sea, and replaced by the black banners of the Underworld, fluttering in the salty sea breeze.

The pier on Bibo Island was stained dark red with blood. Scrap planks, broken knives, tattered flags, and countless corpses floated on the sea.

Ouyang Feiying stood on the edge of the broken dock, his hands behind his back, looking at the dozen or so sails that drifted further and further away where the sea and sky met, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"Run," he muttered to himself, his voice carried away by the sea breeze.

"You can run away from the monk, but you can't run away from the temple."

He turned and walked toward the island. Not a drop of blood stained his dark purple brocade robe, and his steps were as unhurried as if he had just come out of a teahouse.

Behind them, the seawater was slowly washing away the bloodstains on the dock. But what it couldn't wash away was the sentence etched into this sea today—

The underworld has arrived.