THE BOY THEY CALLED A JINX BECAME THE SUPREME CULTIVATOR

6 - ABYSSAL II

A fresh, massive cloud of crimson spilled out from his ribs, billowing up into the dark current like a blossoming flower.

Zhentian slumped forward, his forehead resting against a smooth piece of petrified bone as his vision began to darken at the edges.

The pain was overwhelming, but it was nothing compared to the suffocating despair of knowing his cultivation journey was over before it ever truly began.

He would never fly across the heavens, he would never wield a profound weapon, and he would never stand before Mo Wudi as an equal again.

"You are forcing a broken tool to do the work of a master craftsman," Ye Canghai said, shaking his head slowly.

"I have to stop the bleeding," Zhentian gasped, his breath hitching as the icy water rushed directly into the open wound.

"Using a Yellow Root to circulate Qi in this environment is like using a dry twig to stop a rushing river," the old man noted calmly.

"It is only going to snap and cause you more pain."

"Then what do you suggest I do?" Zhentian demanded, his voice cracking as the cold sank deeper into his core.

"I suggest you learn how to die quietly," Ye Canghai replied, finally setting his whetstone aside.

The old man stood up from his throne of skulls, wrapping his tattered dark robes tightly around his shoulders.

He did not walk toward Zhentian, choosing instead to step backward into the deeper shadows of the trench wall.

"Why are you moving away?" Zhentian asked, his instincts flaring despite the haze of blood loss clouding his brain.

"Because you just rang the dinner bell," Ye Canghai answered, pointing a scarred finger at the thick cloud of blood drifting above Zhentian's head.

"And I have no intention of getting my boots dirty when the guests arrive."

Zhentian frowned, turning his head slightly to look out into the vast, lightless expanse of the ocean floor.

The water around him suddenly grew noticeably colder, carrying a foul, sulfurous stench that cut right through the smell of his own blood.

He felt a strange vibration trembling through the mud beneath his hands, rhythmic and heavy.

It was a slow, deliberate thudding, growing louder and more pronounced with every passing second.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The vibrations rattled the loose stones and small bones scattered across the seabed, sending them skittering away into the dark.

Zhentian tried to push himself backward, desperate to put some distance between himself and whatever was approaching.

His broken collarbone screamed in protest, forcing him to drop flat against the mud once again.

"What is that?" Zhentian hissed, his eyes scanning the impenetrable blackness for any sign of movement.

"That is a Blind Abyssal Crawler," Ye Canghai supplied helpfully from the safety of the shadows.

"They cannot see a thing, but they can smell a single drop of fresh blood from a dozen miles away."

The heavy water shifted violently, a massive current sweeping over Zhentian and nearly lifting him off the seabed.

Two massive, glowing red orbs suddenly ignited in the darkness, hovering just ten yards away.

They were not eyes, but bioluminescent lures dangling from the front of a horrifying, armored face.

The Crawler stepped into the faint blue light radiating from Ye Canghai's previous position, revealing its sheer, terrifying scale.

It was the size of a small house, covered in thick, jagged plates of black chitin that looked dense enough to deflect a broadsword.

Dozens of multi-jointed legs stabbed into the mud as it moved, propelling the massive beast forward with unnerving speed.

Its mouth was a gaping, circular nightmare filled with rows of rotating, razor-sharp teeth designed to grind bone into paste.

Thick strands of acidic saliva trailed from its mandibles, dissolving the small rocks on the seabed wherever they landed.

The beast paused, swinging its massive, eyeless head back and forth as it tasted the blood-tainted water.

It locked directly onto Zhentian's position, the glowing red lures twitching with predatory excitement.

"It seems to like the smell of your pathetic Yellow Qi," Ye Canghai remarked, sounding mildly amused by the impending slaughter.

Zhentian ignored the old man, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.

He frantically searched the ground around him for anything he could use as a weapon.

His hand brushed against the smooth petrified ribcage he had rested his head on moments ago, but it was deeply embedded in the mud.

He had no sword, no dagger, and absolutely no Qi left to reinforce his fragile mortal skin.

He could not run, he could not hide, and he certainly could not fight.

The Crawler let out a low, deafening hiss that vibrated through the water, sending a shockwave that made Zhentian’s ears ring.

It reared back on its hind legs, exposing a pale, heavily scarred underbelly as it prepared to launch itself forward.

"Stand up, boy," Ye Canghai said, his voice dropping the casual mockery and taking on a sharp, commanding edge.

"I can't," Zhentian gritted out, his fingers digging uselessly into the freezing dirt.

"If you lie there on your stomach, you die as prey," Ye Canghai stated coldly.

"If you stand up, you die facing the teeth."

The words cut through the paralyzing terror gripping Zhentian's mind, striking a chord deep within his bitter soul.

He refused to let Mo Wudi win so easily, and he refused to let this arrogant old hermit watch him cower in his final moments.

With a guttural roar of pure, unadulterated defiance, Zhentian planted his good hand in the mud and shoved himself upward.

The pain in his shoulder was blinding, threatening to send him straight into unconsciousness, but he forced his knees under his chest.

He staggered to his feet, swaying heavily in the dark current as his blood poured freely from his open ribs.

He stood alone in the dark, a broken, crippled boy facing a monster straight out of a nightmare.

He did not raise his hands to defend himself, knowing his frail bones would snap like dry twigs against the beast's armor.

He simply stared up at the massive, rotating teeth, his dark eyes filled with a cold, terrifying wrath that had absolutely nowhere to go.

The Abyssal Crawler lunged, its massive jaws snapping wide open as it charged through the freezing water directly at his face.