Chapter Forty-Seven: The Struggle for the Divine Earth! River God, Evil God!

Soon after, the group began to scatter along the banks of the Clear River. Eventually, they gathered together once more, realizing that the ominous energy detected by their measuring devices was gradually diminishing. This suggested that the monster responsible for Wang Tianchao’s murder had likely met its end. Yet, with the monster’s death, a new mystery arose: surveillance footage revealed a strange, swift shadow pursuing the fearsome beast.

The most pressing concern was now to determine whether that shadow was human, or simply masquerading as one. The energy detectors could register all sorts of energies; if the reading was ominous, it would show as such, but it could also reveal other types.

Before long, Master An and his companions sensed their devices were now picking up a different kind of energy. They searched along the river, splitting up and scouring the banks, but found no answers. When they regrouped on the shore, their instruments suddenly began beeping frantically—there was a massive fluctuation of energy precisely where they had first stood.

Quickly, they switched off their detectors and relied on their own senses. They could feel a surge of pure, radiant energy erupting from that very spot, tinged with the faint aura of Buddhist and Daoist power.

“Could it be,” someone exclaimed, “that the person we saw just now was a monk? Incredible! When we first arrived, there was nothing, but after we left, such power flared up and already faded. To still sense it now—this must have been the work of a true master!”

“Not necessarily,” said another. “I found some stray fish scales in the river, tainted with ominous energy, but also carrying a trace of pure, radiant power. It feels somewhat Daoist, but also similar to orthodox martial techniques.”

“With such overwhelming energy, whoever left this behind is certainly above our level—could it be one of those legendary grandmasters?”

As they speculated about this mysterious expert, suddenly, Master Mu bent down. Producing a folding military shovel from his belongings, he began to dig into the earth.

“To reach beyond the realm of a grandmaster is to wield supernatural powers,” he mused aloud. “Even the slowest of minds, upon passing that threshold, will gain a new ability. Who knows—perhaps something left here could help me break through. I’ll take this soil with me!”

His words caught the attention of the others, and their eyes lit up. Without hesitation, everyone produced their own tools. Those without simply used their hands, hardened by their inner power to the strength of steel, clawing at the earth.

“You old fox! You’re digging up the richest soil for yourself! Hand it over, or you’ll regret it!”

“This soil is for everyone! Aren’t you digging, too? Why do you want mine? No way!”

And so, a fight broke out. Over a bit of soil, the elders began to brawl.

If Lin Yi knew the relic he had tossed would cause such a commotion, he might never have thrown it in the first place. Would he let two old men come to blows over a handful of dirt? Or perhaps, magnanimous as he was, he might have ground the relic into the earth a little more, sharing its blessing, and preventing the fight altogether.

Lin Yi had already emerged from the water. Memories of the deformed demon fox were now etched indelibly in his mind.

Scene One.

“Vile beast! That’s what you are. Kill them all!” roared a mustachioed priest, leading a band of men. Stones and clubs in hand, they mercilessly battered a den of fox cubs. Most perished; only one, bloodied and mangled, survived.

That night, the wounded cub dragged itself to a fox graveyard. As it whimpered, bathed in moonlight, a patch of luminous black earth caught its eye—an irresistible draw. Pulling its crippled body closer, the cub devoured the earth as if it were a priceless elixir. Upon closer inspection, the soil gleamed from the countless drops of blood it had absorbed—blood of unknown age.

Soon, the fox cub consumed the entire patch. With a series of sickening cracks, its body began to change. Year after year, it grew into a grotesque, deformed creature. Its offspring were equally monstrous, as was the mate that joined it—a whole line of malformed demon foxes.

Scene Two.

One fox cub grew up, spoiled by its parents and picky in its diet, craving only fresh meat. Yet its hideous appearance made it self-conscious, and the rest of the tribe mocked it.

“Look at that ugly fox. Its fur is matted with flesh—disgusting.”

“Just seeing it makes me lose my appetite.”

Finally, after years of rejection, the fox realized that only strength mattered. It pestered its mother for the herbs she gathered, and in time, it grew powerful. It slaughtered many of its peers, devouring their flesh and using their pelts to disguise itself as a normal fox.

Gradually, it learned that eating human flesh would make it even stronger. Thus began its bloody path.

Scene Three.

Red lanterns hung high, drums and firecrackers filled a small village with noise and festivity—a wedding was being celebrated. The malformed demon fox, draped in a beautiful pelt, arrived unseen.

It saw the bride. How lovely she was—if I could wear her skin, wouldn’t I be beautiful too?

That night, there were no screams—only the sound of blood gurgling like a river. The bride’s heart exploded, her body drained to a husk. The demon fox tore off its fox disguise, finally donning the bride’s coveted skin.

“So beautiful… so beautiful…”

Scene Four.

On a rainy night, it exchanged a knowing smile with a burly man. The man raised a fingernail to his forehead, sliced it open, and peeled away his skin—revealing himself as another deformed demon fox.

The new skin fit perfectly. That demon fox had become a Skinwalker.

These memories surged through Lin Yi’s mind. He suddenly understood: the deformed demon fox he had slain was the mate of the Skinwalker haunting Caizi Jiayuan.

Though, in these memories, the Skinwalker had not yet entered Caizi Jiayuan, its movements circled that area.

“Heart-corrupting sorcery is truly terrifying. Thank goodness I didn’t spare that demon fox. Though weaker than its partner, even a single spell could have meant disaster for countless innocents. What a stroke of luck,” Lin Yi murmured.

But soon, he sensed something amiss.

The Clear River, though man-made, was the only river flowing through all of Shengjing City. Usually, its waters moved slowly, sometimes barely at all—like a still lake where the flow was controlled.

Yet now, as Lin Yi prepared to come ashore, the river suddenly roared and surged. Countless splashes rippled across the surface.

Something unnatural was happening—something was approaching.

Though there was a trace of ominous energy, there was also a sense of something grand and righteous. It left Lin Yi neither comfortable nor uneasy, but rather in a state of awkward uncertainty.

He drew out his energy detector, which began to beep and fluctuate wildly.

At that very moment—

The pages of the Divine Execution Sutra began to turn.

As they turned, Lin Yi’s vision was drawn into them.

“Avatar of the Lingtian River God: The Lingtian River God, once a giant python who attained spirit form, gained immense power after accidentally swallowing a Flood Dragon Pill. He declared himself River God and took possession of the River God’s Seal from his predecessor, granting him control over part of the river’s waters. However, with a demonic seed growing inside, he cannot presently wield the Seal. Cultivation: 1,762 years. Kills: 13,607. An evil god—must be slain! This is but a water avatar.”

A series of images flashed past: endless surging waters, children, elders, and adults crying for help within the torrent. A kindly looking old man broke into a sinister smile.

In a gray-toned vision, the old man wore a black robe embroidered with golden serpents, exuding both dignity and the aura of an immortal. The riverbank was littered with corpses. The old man transformed into a massive black python, slithering among them, devouring body after body—crunch, crunch, crunch.

The River God!

Lin Yi was shocked. According to the Divine Execution Sutra, the entity approaching was none other than the River God himself—a python spirit who, upon consuming the Flood Dragon Pill, had ascended to power and claimed the title of River God. Yet, with a demonic seed festering inside, he had turned into an evil god, having cultivated for over seventeen centuries and killed more than thirteen thousand people. A true menace!

Everything was revealed within the pages of the Divine Execution Sutra.

This River God was far stronger than Lady Huang Jiu.

But wait—at that moment, Lin Yi noticed something odd. The energy detector showed only a little over eight thousand units—far below what one would expect from the River God.

There was something strange afoot. Could it be, as the Sutra suggested, that the demonic seed had crippled his power, preventing him from wielding the River God’s Seal and reducing his strength to a mere shadow of its former self?

No, that couldn’t be the whole explanation. Lin Yi shook his head—there had to be more.

Just then, he watched as the churning waves assembled into the form of a kind-faced old man.